“CIARA, GET THE DAMN DOOR!”
“NO, I SAID! I . . . AM . . . BUSY!” she yelled back.
“WELL, SO AM I!”
Holly rang the doorbell again just to add fuel to the fire.
“DECLAN!” Ouch, that was a bloodcurdling scream.
“GET IT YOURSELF, YOU LAZY COW!”
“HA! I’M LAZY?!”
Holly took out her mobile phone and rang the house.
“CIARA, ANSWER THE PHONE!”
“NO!”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Holly snapped loudly and hung up the phone. She dialed Declan’s mobile number.
“Yeah?”
“Declan, open the goddamn fucking door now or I’ll kick it in,” Holly growled.
“Oh, sorry Holly, I thought Ciara had answered it,” he lied.
He opened the door in his boxer shorts and Holly stormed in. “Jesus Christ! I hope you two don’t carry on like that every time the doorbell rings.”
He shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. “Mum and Dad are out,” he said lazily and headed up the stairs.
“Hey, where are you going?”
“Back to bed.”
“No you are not,” Holly said calmly. “You are going to sit down here with me,” she said, patting the couch, “and we’re gonna have a nice long chat about ‘Girls and the City.’ ”
“No,” Declan moaned. “Do we have to do this now? I’m really, really tired.” He rubbed his eyes with his fists.
Holly had no sympathy for him. “Declan, it’s two o’clock in the afternoon, how can you still be tired?”
“Because I only got home a few hours ago,” he said cheekily, winking at her. Now she definitely had no sympathy for him, she was just plain jealous.
“Sit!” she said, ordering him onto the couch.
He moaned again and dragged his weary body over to the couch, where he collapsed and stretched out along the entire thing, leaving no room for Holly. She rolled her eyes and dragged her dad’s armchair closer to Declan.
“I feel like I’m with a shrink,” he laughed, crossing his arms behind his head and staring up at her from the couch.
“Good, because I’m really going to pick your brains.”
Declan whinged again, “Oh Holly, do we have to? We just talked about this the other night.”
“Did you honestly think that was all I was going to say? ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Declan, but I didn’t like the way you publicly humiliated me and my friends, see you next week’?”
“Obviously not.”
“Come on, Declan,” she said, softening her tone, “I just want to understand why you thought it would be such a great idea not to tell me you were filming me and my friends.”
“You knew I was filming,” he said defensively.
“For a documentary about club life!” Holly raised her voice with frustration at her younger brother.
“And it was about club life,” Declan laughed.
“Oh, you think you’re so bloody clever,” she snapped at him, and he stopped laughing. She counted to ten and breathed slowly to prevent herself from attacking him.
“Come on, Declan,” she said quietly. “Do you not think that I am going through enough right now without having to worry about this as well? And without even asking me? I cannot for the life of me understand why you would do it!”
Declan sat up on the couch and became serious for a change. “I know, Holly, I know you’ve been through hell, but I thought this would cheer you up. I wasn’t lying when I said I was going to film the club because that’s what I had planned on doing. But when I brought it back to college to begin the edit, everyone thought that it was just so funny that I couldn’t not show it to people.”
“Yeah, but you put it on TV, Declan.”
“I didn’t know that was the prize, honestly,” he said, wide-eyed. “Nobody knew, not even my lecturers! How could I say no to it when I won?”
Holly gave up and ran her fingers through her hair.
“I honestly thought you would like it,” he smiled. “I even checked with Ciara and even she said you’d like it. I’m sorry if I upset you,” he eventually mumbled.
Holly continued nodding her head through his explanation, realizing he genuinely had had good intentions, however misguided. Suddenly she stopped. What had he just said? She sat up alert in her seat. “Declan, did you just say that Ciara knew about the tape?”
Declan froze in his seat and tried to think of a way to back himself out of it. Coming up with nothing, he threw himself back onto the couch and covered his head with a cushion, knowing he had just started World War III.
“Oh Holly, don’t say anything to her, she’ll kill me!” came his muffled reply.
Holly bounded out of her seat and stormed upstairs, thumping her feet on every step to show Ciara she was really mad. She yelled threats at Ciara all the way up and pounded on her bedroom door.
“Don’t come in!” yelled Ciara from inside.
“You are in so much trouble, Ciara!” Holly screamed. She opened the door and burst her way in, putting on her most terrifying face.
“I told you not to come in!” wailed Ciara. Holly was about to start screaming all sorts of insulting things at her sister but stopped herself when she saw Ciara sitting on the floor with what looked like a photo album on her lap and tears streaming down her face.
Twenty-one
“OH CIARA, WHAT’S WRONG?” HOLLY said soothingly to her younger sister. Holly was worried; she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen her cry, in fact, she didn’t know Ciara even knew how to cry. Whatever had reduced her strong sister to tears must be something serious.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Ciara said, snapping the photo album shut and sliding it under her bed. She seemed embarrassed to be caught crying, and she wiped her face roughly, trying to look like she didn’t care.
Downstairs on the couch, Declan peeped his head out from under the cushion. It was eerily quiet up there; he hoped they hadn’t done anything stupid to each other. He tiptoed upstairs and listened outside the door.
“Something is wrong,” Holly said, crossing the room to join her sister on the floor. She wasn’t sure how to deal with Ciara like this. This was a complete role reversal; ever since they’d been kids it was always Holly who had done all the crying. Ciara was supposed to be the tough one.
“I’m fine,” Ciara snapped.
“OK,” Holly said, looking around, “but if there’s something on your mind that’s upsetting you, you know you can talk to me about it, don’t you?”
Ciara refused to look at her and just nodded her head. Holly began to stand up to leave her sister in peace when all of a sudden Ciara burst into tears. Holly quickly sat back down and wrapped her arms protectively around her younger sister. Holly stroked Ciara’s silky pink hair while her sister cried quietly.
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” she asked softly.
Ciara gurgled some sort of reply and sat up to slide the photo album back out from under the bed. She opened it with trembling hands and flicked a few pages.
“Him,” she said sadly, pointing to a photograph of her and some guy Holly didn’t recognize. Holly barely recognized her sister. She looked so different and so much younger. The photograph was taken on a beautiful sunny day on a boat overlooking the Sydney Opera House. Ciara was sitting happily on the man’s knee with her arms wrapped around his neck, and he was staring at her with a huge smile on his face. Holly couldn’t get over how Ciara looked. She had blond hair, which Holly had never seen on her sister before, and a great big smile on her face. Her features looked much softer and she didn’t look like she was going to bite someone’s head off for a change.
“Is that your boyfriend?” Holly asked carefully.
“Was,” Ciara sniffed, and a tear landed on the page.
“Is that why you came home?” she asked softly, wiping a tear from her sister’s face.
Ciara nodded.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
Ciara gasped for breath. “We had a fight.”
“Did he . . .” Holly chose her words carefully. “He didn’t hurt you or anything, did he?”
Ciara shook her head. “No,” she spluttered, “it was just over something really stupid and I said I was leaving and he said he was glad . . .” She trailed off as she started sobbing again.
Holly held her in her arms and waited till Ciara was ready to talk again.
“He didn’t even come to the airport to say good-bye to me.”
Holly rubbed Ciara’s back soothingly as if she were a baby who had just drunk her bottle. She hoped Ciara wouldn’t throw up on her. “Has he called you since?”
“No, and I’ve been home for two months, Holly,” she wailed. She looked up at her older sister with such sad eyes Holly almost felt like crying. She didn’t like the sound of this guy at all for hurting her sister. Holly smiled at her encouragingly. “Then do you think that maybe he’s not the right kind of person for you?”
Ciara started crying again. “But I love Mathew, Holly, and it was only a stupid fight. I only booked the flight because I was angry, I didn’t think he would let me go . . .” She stared for a long time at the photograph.
Ciara’s bedroom windows were wide open and Holly listened to the familiar sound of the waves and the laughter coming from the beach. Holly and Ciara had shared this room while they grew up, and a weird sense of comfort embraced her as she smelled the same smells and listened to the familiar noises.
Ciara began to calm down beside her. “Sorry, Hol.”
“Hey, you don’t need to be sorry at all,” she said, squeezing her hand. “You should have told me all this when you came home instead of keeping it all inside.”
“But this is only minor compared to what’s happened to you. I feel stupid even crying about it.” She wiped her tears, angry with herself.
Holly was shocked. “Ciara, this is a big deal. Losing someone you love is always hard, no matter if they’re alive or . . .” She couldn’t finish the sentence. “Of course you can tell me anything.”
“It’s just that you’ve been so brave, Holly, I don’t know how you do it. And here I am crying over a stupid boyfriend I only went out with for a few months.”
“Me? Brave?” Holly laughed. “I wish.”
“Yes you are,” Ciara insisted. “Everyone says so. You’ve been so strong through everything. If I were you, I’d be lying in a ditch somewhere.”
“Don’t go giving me ideas, Ciara.” Holly smiled at her, wondering who on earth had called her brave.
“You’re OK, though, aren’t you?” Ciara said worriedly, studying her face.
Holly looked down at her hands and slid her wedding ring up and down her finger. She thought about that question for a while and the two girls became lost in their own thoughts. Ciara, suddenly calmer than Holly had ever seen her, sat by her side patiently awaiting Holly’s reply.
“Am I OK?” Holly repeated the question to herself. She looked ahead at the collection of teddy bears and dolls that their parents had refused to throw out. “I’m lots of things, Ciara,” Holly explained, continuing to roll her ring around on her finger. “I’m lonely, I’m tired, I’m sad, I’m happy, I’m lucky, I’m unlucky; I’m a million different things every day of the week. But I suppose OK is one of them.”
She looked to her sister and smiled sadly.
“And you’re brave,” Ciara assured her. “And calm and in control. And organized.”
Holly shook her head slowly. “No Ciara, I’m not brave. You’re the brave one. You were always the brave one. As for being in control, I don’t know what I’m doing from one day to the next.”
Ciara’s forehead creased and she shook her head wildly. “No, I am far from being brave, Holly.”
“Yes you are,” Holly insisted. “All those things that you do, like jumping out of airplanes and snowboarding off cliffs . . .” Holly trailed off as she tried to think of more crazy things her little sister did.
Ciara shook her head in protest. “Oh no, my dear sister. That’s not brave, that’s foolish. Anybody can bungee jump off a bridge. You could do it.” Ciara nudged her.
Holly’s eyes widened, terrified at the thought, and she shook her head.
Ciara’s voice softened. “Oh, you would if you had to, Holly. Trust me, there’s nothing brave about it.”
Holly looked at her sister and matched her tone. “Yes, and if your husband died you would cope if you had to. There’s nothing brave about it. There’s no choice involved.”
Ciara and Holly stared at each other, aware of the other’s battle.
Ciara was the first to speak. “Well, I guess you and I are more alike than we thought.” She smiled at her big sister and Holly wrapped her arms around her small frame and hugged her tightly. “Well, who would have thought?”
Holly thought her sister looked like such a child with her big innocent blue eyes. She felt like they were both children again, sitting on the floor where they used to play together during their childhood and where they would gossip when they were teenagers.
They sat in silence listening to the sounds outside.
“Was there something you were going to scream at me about earlier on?” Ciara asked quietly with an even more childish voice. Holly had to laugh at her sister for trying to take advantage.
“No, forget about it, it was nothing,” Holly replied, staring out at the blue sky. From outside the door, Declan wiped his brow and breathed a sigh of relief; he was in the clear. He tiptoed silently back into his bedroom and hopped back into bed. Whoever this Mathew was, he owed him big-time. His phone beeped, signaling a message, and he frowned as he read the message: Who the hell was Sandra? Then a grin crept across his face as he remembered the night before.
Twenty-two
IT WAS EIGHT O’CLOCK WHEN Holly finally drove up her driveway, and it was still bright. She smiled, the world never felt quite so depressing when it was bright. She had spent the day with Ciara chatting about her adventures in Australia. Ciara had changed her mind at least twenty times in the space of a few hours about whether or not she should call Mathew in Australia. By the time Holly left, Ciara was adamant she would never speak to him again, which probably meant she had already called him by now.
She walked up the path to the front door and stared at the garden curiously. Was it her imagination or did it look a little tidier? It was still a complete mess with weeds and overgrown shrubs sprouting up everywhere, but something about it looked different.
The sound of a lawnmower started and Holly spun around to face her neighbor, who was out working in his garden. She waved over to thank him, presuming it was he who had helped her, and he held his hand up in response.
It had always been Gerry’s job to do the garden. He wasn’t necessarily a keen gardener, it was just that Holly was an incredibly unkeen gardener, so somebody had to do the dirty work. It had been agreed between them that there was no way in the world Holly was going to waste her day off toiling in the sand. As a result, their garden was simple; just a small patch of grass surrounded by a few shrubs and flowers. As Gerry knew very little about gardening, he often planted flowers during the wrong season or put them in the wrong place; they just ended up dying. But even their patch of grass and few shrubs now looked like nothing more than an overgrown field. When Gerry died, the garden had died along with him.
