P.S. I Love You

P.S., I LOVE YOU

Cecelia Ahern

A wonderfully warm and heartfelt debut from a stunning new talent.

“Remember our wonderful memories, but don’t be afraid to make some more…” Holly and Gerry had the perfect life. Happily married, living in Dublin close to their friends and family, and with a brilliant social life, they had the world at their feet. Or so they thought. When Gerry dies, Holly is devastated.

On the eve of her 30th birthday, the man who was her lover, her best friend, her rock, has left her. But Gerry promised he’d always be there for Holly. And he is: his last bequest to her is The List, a bundle of notes which form a monthly mission for Holly to get her life back on track.

As the notes are gradually opened, and as the year unfolds, Holly is both cheered up and challenged. The man who knows Holly better than anyone sets out to teach her that life goes on. With some help from her friends, and her noisy and loving family, Holly finds herself laughing, crying, singing, dancing — and being braver than ever before. Life is for living, she realises — but it always helps if there’s an angel watching over you.

Charming, heartfelt and funny, this debut novel celebrates life, love and friendship and proves that true love never dies.

For David

ONE

H
OLLY HELD THE BLUE COTTON sweater to her face and the familiar smell immediately struck her, an overwhelming grief knotting her stomach and pulling at her heart. Pins and needles ran up the back of her neck and a lump in her throat threatened to choke her. Panic took over. Apart from the low hum of the fridge and the occasional moaning of the pipes, the house was quiet. She was alone. Bile rose to her throat and she ran to the bathroom, where she collapsed to her knees before the toilet.

Gerry was gone and he would never be back. That was the reality. She would never again run her fingers through his soft hair, never share a secret joke across the table at a dinner party, never cry to him when she got home from a hard day at work and just needed a hug; she would never share a bed with him again, never be woken up by his fits of sneezes each morning, never laugh with him so much her stomach would ache, never fight with him about whose turn it was to get up and turn the bedroom light off. All that was left was a bundle of memories and an image of his face that became more and more vague each day.

Their plan had been very simple. To stay together for the rest of their lives. A plan that anyone within their circle would agree was accomplishable. They were best friends, lovers and soul mates destined to be together, everyone thought. But as it happened, one day destiny greedily changed its mind.

The end had come all too soon. After complaining of a migraine for a few days, Gerry had agreed to Holly’s suggestion that he see his doctor. This was done one Wednesday on a lunch break from work. The doctor thought it was due to stress or tiredness and agreed that at the very worst he might need glasses. Gerry hadn’t been happy with that. He had been upset about the idea he might need glasses. He needn’t have worried, since as it turned out it wasn’t his eyes that were the problem. It was the tumor growing inside his brain.

Holly flushed the toilet, and shivering from the coldness of the tiled floor, she shakily steadied herself to her feet. He had been thirty years old. By no means had he been the healthiest man on the earth, but he’d been healthy enough to…well, to live a normal life. When he was very sick he would bravely joke about how he shouldn’t have lived life so safely. Should have taken drugs, should have drunk more, should have traveled more, should have jumped out of airplanes while waxing his legs…his list went on. Even as he laughed about it Holly could see the regret in his eyes. Regret for the things he never made time to do, the places he never saw, and sorrow for the loss of future experiences. Did he regret the life he’d had with her? Holly never doubted that he loved her, but feared he felt he had wasted precious time.

Growing older became something he wanted desperately to accomplish, rather than merely a dreaded inevitability. How presumptuous they both had been never to consider growing old as an achievement and a challenge. Aging was something they’d both wanted so much to avoid.

Holly drifted from room to room while she sobbed her fat, salty tears. Her eyes were red and sore and there seemed to be no end to this night. None of the rooms in the house provided her with any solace. Just unwelcoming silences as she stared around at the furniture. She longed for the couch to hold out its arms to her, but even it ignored her.

Gerry would not be happy with this, she thought. She took a deep breath, dried her eyes and tried to shake some sense into herself. No, Gerry would not be pleased at all.

Just as she had every other night for the past few weeks, Holly fell into a fitful sleep in the early hours of the morning. Each day she found herself sprawled uncomfortably across some piece of furniture; today it was the couch. Once again it was the phone call from a concerned friend or family member that woke her up. They probably thought that all she did was sleep. Where were their phone calls when she listlessly roamed the house like a zombie searching the rooms for…for what? What was she expecting to find?

“Hello,” she groggily answered. Her voice was hoarse from all the tears, but she had long since stopped caring about maintaining a brave face for anyone. Her best friend was gone and nobody understood that no amount of makeup, fresh air or shopping was going to fill the hole in her heart.

“Oh sorry, love, did I wake you?” the concerned voice of Holly’s mother came across the line. Always the same conversation. Every morning her mother called to see if she had survived the night alone. Always afraid of waking her yet always relieved to hear her breathing; safe with the knowledge her daughter had braved the ghosts of the night.

“No, I was just dozing, it’s OK.” Always the same answer.

“Your dad and Declan have gone out and I was thinking of you, pet.” Why did that soothing, sympathetic voice always send tears to Holly’s eyes? She could picture her mother’s concerned face, eyebrows furrowed, forehead wrinkled with worry. But it didn’t soothe Holly. It made her remember why they were worried and that they shouldn’t have to be. Everything should be normal. Gerry should be here beside her, rolling his eyes up to heaven and trying to make her laugh while her mother yapped on. So many times Holly would have to hand the phone over to Gerry, as her fit of giggles would take over. Then he would chat away, ignoring Holly as she jumped around the bed pulling her silliest faces and doing her funniest dances just to get him back. It seldom worked.

She ‘ummed’ and ‘ahhed’ throughout the conversation, listening but not hearing a word.

“It’s a lovely day, Holly. It would do you the world of good to go out for a walk. Get some fresh air.”

“Um, I suppose.” There it was again, fresh air — the alleged answer to all her problems.

“Maybe I’ll call around later and we can have a chat.”

“No thanks, Mum, I’m OK.”

Silence.

“Well, all right then…give me a ring if you change your mind. I’m free all day.”

“OK.”

Another silence.

“Thanks, though.”

“Right then…take care, love.”

“I will.” Holly was about to replace the phone when she heard her mother’s voice again.

“Oh Holly, I almost forgot. That envelope is still here for you, you know, the one I told you about. It’s on the kitchen table. You might want to collect it, it’s been here for weeks now and it might be important.”

“I doubt it. It’s probably just another card.”

“No, I don’t think it is, love. It’s addressed to you and above your name it says…oh, hold on while I get it from the table…” The phone was put down, the sound of heels on the tiles toward the table, chairs screeched against the floor, footsteps getting louder, phone being picked up…

“You still there?”

“Yeah.”

“OK, it says at the top ‘The List'. I’m not sure what that means, love. It’s worth just taking a…”

Holly dropped the phone.

TWO

“
G
ERRY, TURN OFF THE LIGHT!” Holly giggled as she watched her husband undress before her. He danced around the room performing a striptease, slowly unbuttoning his white cotton shirt with his long slender fingers. He raised his left eyebrow toward Holly and allowed the shirt to slide from his shoulders, caught it in his right hand and swung it around over his head.

Holly giggled again.

“Turn off the light? What, and miss all this?” he grinned cheekily while flexing his muscles. He wasn’t a vain man but had much to be vain about, thought Holly. His body was strong and perfectly toned. His long legs were muscular from hours spent working out in the gym. He wasn’t a very tall man, but he was tall enough to make Holly feel safe when he stood protectively beside her five-foot-five body. Most of all she loved that when she hugged him her head would rest neatly just below his chin, where she could feel his breath lightly blowing her hair and tickling her head.

Her heart leapt as he lowered his boxers, caught them on the tips of his toes and flung them at Holly, where they landed on her head.

“Well, at least it’s darker under here anyway,” she laughed. He always managed to make her laugh. When she came home tired and angry after work he was always sympathetic and listened to her complain. They seldom fought, and when they did it was over stupid things that made them laugh afterward, like who had left the porch light on all day or who had forgotten to set the alarm at night.

Gerry finished his striptease and dived into the bed. He snuggled up beside her, tucking his freezing cold feet underneath her legs to warm himself up.

“Aaaagh! Gerry, your feet are like ice cubes!” Holly knew that this position meant he had no intention of budging an inch. “Gerry,” Holly’s voice warned.

“Holly,” he mimicked.

“Didn’t you forget something?”

“No, not that I remember,” he answered cheekily.

“The light?”

“Ah yes, the light,” he said sleepily and pretended to snore loudly.

“Gerry!”

“I had to get out of bed and do it last night as I remember.”

“Yeah, but you were just standing right beside the switch a second ago!”

“Yes…just a second ago,” he repeated sleepily.

Holly sighed. She hated having to get back out of bed when she was nice and snug, step onto the cold wooden floor and then fumble around in the darkness on the way back to the bed. She tutted.

“I can’t do it all the time you know, Hol. Someday I might not be here and then what will you do?”

“Get my new husband to do it,” Holly huffed, trying her best to kick his cold feet away from hers.

“Ha!”

“Or just remember to do it myself before I get into bed.”

Gerry snorted. “Fat chance of that happening, my dear. I’ll have to leave a message on the light switch for you before I go just so you’ll remember.”

“How thoughtful of you, but I would rather you just leave me your money.”

“And a note on the central heating,” he continued on.

“Ha-ha.”

“And on the milk carton.”

“You’re a very funny man, Gerry.”

“Oh, and on the windows so you don’t open them and set the alarm off in the mornings.”

“Hey, why don’t you just leave me a list in your will of things for me to do if you think I’ll be so incompetent without you?”

“Not a bad idea,” he laughed.

“Fine then, I’ll turn off the bloody light.” Holly grudgingly got out of bed, grimaced as she stepped onto the ice-cold floor and switched off the light. She held out her arms in the darkness and slowly began to find her way back to the bed.

“Hello?!!! Holly, did you get lost? Is there anybody out there, there, there, there?” Gerry shouted out to the black room.

“Yes, I’m hhhhowwwwwwcch!” she yelped as she stubbed her toe against the bedpost. “Shit, shit, shit, fuck, bastard, shit, crap!”

Gerry snorted and sniggered underneath the duvet. “Number two on my list: Watch out for bedpost…”

“Oh, shut up, Gerry, and stop being so morbid,” Holly snapped back at him, cradling her poor foot in her hand.

“Want me to kiss it better?” he asked.

“No, it’s OK,” Holly replied sadly. “If I could just put them here so I can warm…”

“Aaaaah! Jesus Christ, they’re freezing!!”

“Hee-hee-hee,” she had laughed.

So that was how the joke about the list had come about. It was a silly and simple idea that was soon shared with their closest friends, Sharon and John McCarthy. It was John who had approached Holly in the school corridor when they were just fourteen and muttered the famous words, “Me mate wants to know if you’ll go out with him.” After days of endless discussion and emergency meetings with her friends, Holly eventually agreed. “Aah, go on, Holly,” Sharon had urged, “he’s such a ride, and at least he doesn’t have spots all over his face like John.”