It felt like only yesterday that Holly had had her own hen party, but in fact it was more than seven years ago. She had flown over to London with a group of ten girls for the weekend to party hard, but she ended up missing Gerry so much she had to speak to him on the phone every hour. Back then she had been so excited about what was to come and the future had looked so bright.
She was to marry the man of her dreams and live and grow with him for the rest of their lives.
For the entire weekend she was away she counted the hours until she could return home. She was so excited on the flight back to Dublin. Although they had been apart for only a few days, it had felt like an eternity. He had been waiting for her at arrivals with a huge board in his hand saying MY FUTURE WIFE. She had dropped her bags when she saw him and run into his arms and hugged him so tight. She had never wanted to let go; what a luxury it was for people to be able to hold their loved ones whenever they wanted. The scene at the airport seemed like a scene from a movie now, but it had been real: real feelings, real emotions and real love, because it was real life. Real life had become a nightmare for her.
Yes, she had finally managed to drag herself out of bed every morning, yes, she even managed to get dressed most of the time. Yes, she had succeeded in finding a new job where she had met new people, and yes, she had finally started buying food again and feeding herself. But no, she didn’t feel ecstatic about any of these things. They were just formalities, something else to check off on the “things that normal people do” list. None of these things filled the hole in her heart; it was as if her body had become one great jigsaw, just like the green fields with their pretty gray stone walls connecting the whole of Ireland. She had started working on the corners and the edges of her jigsaw because they were the easy bits, and now that they were all in place she needed to do all the bits in between, the hard parts. But nothing she had done so far had managed to fill that hole in her heart; that piece of the jigsaw had yet to be found.
Holly cleared her throat loudly and pretended to have a coughing fit just so the girls would wake up and talk to her. She needed to talk, she needed to cry and she needed to vent all her frustrations and disappointments about her life. But what more could she say to Sharon and Denise that she hadn’t said before? What more advice could they give her that they hadn’t given her before? She repeated the same old worries over and over. Sometimes her friends would succeed in getting through to her and she would feel positive and confident, only to find herself thrown back into despair days later.
After a while Holly tired of staring at the four walls, threw on a tracksuit and made her way back downstairs to the hotel bar.
Charlie groaned with frustration as the table down the back of the bar began to roar with laughter again. He wiped down the bar counter and glanced at his watch. Five-thirty and he was still here working and he couldn’t wait to go home. He had thought he was so lucky when the girls from the hen party had eventually gone to bed earlier than expected, and he was about to tidy up and go home when another gang arrived at the hotel after a nightclub had finished in Galway city. And they were still here. In fact, he would have preferred if the girls had stayed up instead of the arrogant crowd sitting down the back. They weren’t even residents of the hotel, but he had to serve them because the group included the daughter of the owner of the hotel, who had brought all her friends back to the bar. She and her arrogant boyfriend, and he couldn’t stand them.
“Don’t tell me you’re back for more!” the barman laughed as one of the women from the hen party walked into the room. She walked toward the bar, bumping into the wall many times as she tried to make her way to the high stool. Charlie tried not to laugh. “I just came down for a glass of water,” she hiccuped. “Oh my God,” she wailed, catching sight of herself in the mirror over the bar. Charlie had to admit that she did look a bit shocking; a bit like the scarecrow in his dad’s farm. Her hair looked like straw and was sticking out in all directions, her eyes had black circles around them from smudging her mascara, and her teeth were stained from the red wine.
“There you go,” Charlie said, placing a glass of water on a beer mat in front of her.
“Thanks.” She dipped her finger into her glass and wiped the mascara from her eyes and rubbed the wine stains from her lips.
Charlie began to laugh and she squinted at his name tag.
“What are you laughing at, Charlie?”
“I thought you were thirsty, but I would have given you a facecloth if you’d asked for one,” he chuckled.
The woman laughed and her features softened. “I find the ice and lemon helps my skin.”
“Well, that’s a new one.” Charlie laughed and continued to wipe down the counter. “Did you girls have fun tonight?”
Holly sighed, “I suppose.” Fun wasn’t a word she often used anymore. She had laughed along with the jokes all night, she had felt excited for Denise, but she didn’t feel like she was completely there. She felt like the shy girl at school who was always just there but never spoke and was never spoken to. She didn’t recognize the person she had become; she wanted to be able to stop staring at the clock whenever she went out, hoping the night would soon be over so she could go home and crawl into bed. She wanted to stop wishing time would pass and instead enjoy the moment. She was finding it hard to enjoy moments.
“Are you OK?” Charlie stopped wiping the counter and watched her. He had a horrible feeling she was going to cry, but he was used to it at this stage. A lot of people became emotional when they drank.
“I miss my husband,” she whispered, and her shoulders trembled.
The corners of Charlie’s lips turned into a smile.
“What’s so funny?” She looked at him angrily.
“How long are you here for?” he asked.
“The weekend,” she told him, twisting a worn tissue around her finger.
He laughed. “Have you never gone the weekend without seeing him?”
He watched the woman frown. “Only once before,” she finally replied, “and that was at my own hen party.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Seven years ago.” A tear spilled down the woman’s face.
Charlie shook his head. “That’s a long time ago. Well, if you did it once, you can do it again,” he smiled. “Seven years lucky, isn’t that what they say?”
Holly snorted into her drink. Lucky her arse.
“Don’t worry,” Charlie said gently. “Your husband’s probably miserable without you.”
“Oh God, I hope not.” Holly’s eyes widened.
“Well then, see?” he replied. “I’m sure he hopes you’re not miserable without him either. You’re supposed to be enjoying your life.”
“You’re right,” Holly said, perking up. “He wouldn’t want me to be unhappy.”
“That’s the spirit.” Charlie smiled and jumped as he saw his boss’s daughter coming toward the bar with one of those looks on her face.
“Hey Charlie,” she yelled. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for ages. Maybe if you stopped chatting to the customers at the bar and did a bit of work, me and my friends wouldn’t be so thirsty,” she said bitchily.
Holly’s mouth dropped open with shock. That woman had a nerve speaking to Charlie like that, and her perfume was so strong it made Holly start to cough lightly.
“I’m sorry, do you have a problem?” The woman’s head darted toward Holly, and she looked her up and down.
“Yes, actually,” Holly slurred, taking a sip of her water. “Your perfume is disgusting and it’s making me want to throw up.”
Charlie dropped to his knees behind the counter to pretend to look for a lemon to slice and started laughing. He tried to block out the sounds of the two women snapping at each other so he would stop laughing.
“What’s the delay here?” a deep voice inquired. Charlie shot to his feet at the sound of her boyfriend’s voice. He was even worse. “Why don’t you sit down, honey, and I’ll bring the drinks over,” he said.
“Fine, at least someone is polite around here,” she snapped, looking Holly up and down once more before storming off to her table. Holly watched her hips go boom-boom-boom as they went from side to side. She must be a model or something, Holly decided. That would explain the tantrums.
“So how are you?” the man beside Holly asked, staring at her chest.
Charlie had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying anything as he poured a pint of Guinness from the tap and then allowed it to sit on the counter for a while. He had a feeling the woman at the bar wouldn’t succumb to Stevie’s charms anyway, especially as she seemed to be so head over heels about her husband. Charlie was looking forward to seeing Stevie being ceremoniously dumped.
“I’m fine,” Holly replied shortly, staring straight ahead, deliberately avoiding eye contact.
“I’m Stevie,” he said, holding out his hand to her.
“I’m Holly,” she mumbled and took his hand lightly, not wanting to be overly rude.
“Holly, that’s a lovely name.” He held her hand for much too long and Holly was forced to look up into his eyes. He had big blue sparkly eyes.
“Eh . . . thanks,” she said, embarrassed by his compliment, and her face flushed.
Charlie sighed to himself. Even she had fallen for it, his only hope of satisfaction for the night gone.
“Can I buy you a drink, Holly?” Steve asked smoothly.
“No thanks, I have one here.” She sipped on her water again.
“OK, well, I’m just going to bring these drinks down to my table and then I’ll be back to buy the lovely Holly a drink.” He smiled at her creepily as he walked away. Charlie rolled his eyes as soon as he turned his back.
“Who the hell is that eejit?” Holly asked, looking bewildered, and Charlie laughed, delighted that she hadn’t fallen for him. She was a lady with sense even if she was crying because she missed her husband after only one day of separation.
Charlie lowered his voice, “That’s Stevie, boyfriend of that blond bitch who was here a minute ago. Her dad owns this hotel, which means I can’t exactly tell her where to go, although I would love to. Not worth losing my job over.”
“Definitely worth losing your job over, I should think,” Holly said, staring at the beautiful woman and thinking nasty thoughts. “Anyway, good night, Charlie.”
“You off to bed?”
She nodded. “It’s about time; it’s after six,” she tapped on her watch. “I hope you get home soon,” she smiled.
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” he replied and watched her leave the bar. Stevie followed after her and Charlie, thinking this was suspicious, made his way closer to the door just to make sure she was OK. The blonde, noticing her boyfriend’s sudden departure, left her table and arrived at the door with Charlie at the same time. They both stared down the corridor in the direction Holly and Stevie had headed.
The blonde gasped and her hand flew to her mouth.
“Hey!” Charlie called out angrily as he witnessed a distressed Holly pushing a drunken Stevie away from her. Holly angrily wiped her mouth, disgusted with his attempts to kiss her. She backed away from him. “I think you’ve got the wrong idea here, Stevie. Go back to the bar to your girlfriend.”
Stevie wobbled slightly on his feet and slowly turned to face his girlfriend and an angry Charlie, who was charging toward them.
“Stevie!” she shrieked. “How could you?!” She ran from the hotel with tears streaming down her face. She was closely followed by a protesting Stevie.
“Uggghh!” Holly said with disgust to Charlie. “I did not want to do that at all!”
“Don’t worry, I believe you,” Charlie said, placing his hand comfortingly on her shoulder. “I saw what happened through the door.”
“Ah well, thanks very much for coming to my rescue!” Holly complained.
“Got here too late, sorry. But I must admit, I did enjoy her witnessing that,” he laughed, referring to the blonde, and bit his lip feeling guilty.
Holly smiled as she stared down the corridor at Stevie and his frantic girlfriend screaming and fighting with each other.
“Oops,” she said, smiling at Charlie.
Holly knocked into everything in the bedroom as she tried to make her way back to her bed in the darkness. “Ouch!” she yelped, stubbing her toe on the bedpost.
“Sshhh!” Sharon said sleepily and Holly grumbled all the way to her bed.
She tapped Denise on the shoulder continuously until she woke up.
“What? What?” Denise moaned sleepily.
“Here.” Holly forced a mobile phone in Denise’s face. “Phone your future husband, tell him you love him and don’t let the girls know.”
The next day Holly and Sharon went for a long walk on the beach just outside Galway city.
Although it was October, the air had warmth in it and Holly didn’t need her coat. She stood in a long-sleeved top and listened to the water gently lapping. The rest of the girls had decided to go for a liquid lunch and Holly’s stomach wasn’t quite ready for that today.
“Are you OK, Holly?” Sharon approached her from behind and wrapped her arm around her friend’s shoulders.
Holly sighed. “Every time someone asks me that question, Sharon, I say, ‘I’m fine, thank you,’
but to be honest, I’m not. Do people really want to know how you feel when they ask how are you? Or are they just trying to be polite?” Holly smiled. “The next time the woman across the road from my house says to me, ‘How are you?’ I’m going to say to her, ‘Well, actually I’m not very well at all, thank you. I’m feeling a bit depressed and lonely. Pissed off at the world.
Envious of you and your perfect little family but not particularly envious of your husband for having to live with you.’ And then I’ll tell her about how I started a new job and met lots of new people and how I’m trying hard to pick myself up but that I’m now at a loss about what else to do. Then I’ll tell her how it pisses me off when everyone says time is a healer when at the same time they also say absence makes the heart grow fonder, which really confuses me, because that means that the longer he’s gone the more I want him. I’ll tell her that nothing is healing at all and that every morning I wake up in my empty bed it feels like salt is being rubbed into those unhealing wounds.” Holly took a deep breath. “And then I’ll tell her about how much I miss my husband and about how worthless my life seems without him. How uninterested I am in getting on with things without him, and I’ll explain how I feel like I’m just waiting for my world to end so that I can join him. She’ll probably just say, ‘Oh that’s good,’ like she always does, kiss her husband good-bye, hop into her car and drop her kids at school, go to work, make the dinner and eat the dinner, and go to bed with her husband and she’ll have it all done while I’m still trying to decide what color shirt to wear to work. What do you think?” Holly finally finished and turned to Sharon.
“Oooh!” Sharon jumped and her arm flew away from Holly’s shoulders.
“Oooh?” Holly frowned. “I say all that and all you can say is ‘Oooh’?”
Sharon placed her hand over her bump and laughed. “No, you silly, the baby kicked!”
Holly’s mouth dropped open.
“Feel it!” Sharon giggled.
Holly placed her hand over Sharon’s swollen belly and felt the tiny little kick. Both their eyes filled with tears.
“Oh Sharon, if only every minute of my life were filled with perfect little moments like this I would never moan again.”
“But Holly, nobody’s life is filled with perfect little moments. And if it were, they wouldn’t be perfect little moments. They would just be normal. How would you ever know happiness if you never experienced downs?”
“Oooh!” they both shrieked again as the baby kicked for a third time.
“I think this little boy is going to be a footballer like his daddy!” Sharon laughed.
“Boy?” Holly gasped. “You’re having a boy?”
Sharon nodded happily and her eyes glistened. “Holly, meet baby Gerry. Gerry, meet your godmother Holly.”