Part 16 (1/2)
”That'll be twenty cents please.”
Holly sighed loudly and reached into her bag, searching through the mess to find her money again. Another queue formed behind her.
”Mark, take over the till again, will you?” he said snidely.
Holly took the coin out of her purse and slammed it down on the counter and began to fill the bag with her items.
”Next,” he said again, looking over her shoulder. Holly felt under pressure to get out of the way and began stuffing the bag full in panic.
”I'll wait till the lady here is ready,” the customer said politely.
Holly smiled at him appreciatively and turned to leave the shop. She walked away grumbling to herself till Mark, the boy behind the counter, startled her by yelling, ”Hey, I know you! You're the girl from the telly!”
Holly swirled around in surprise and the plastic handle broke from the weight of all the newspapers. Everything fell onto the floor and her chocolate, sweets and crisps went rolling in all directions.
The friendly customer got down on his knees to help her gather her belongings while the rest of the shop watched in amus.e.m.e.nt and wondered who the girl from the telly was.
”It is you, isn't it?” the boy laughed.
Holly smiled up weakly at him from the floor.
”I knew it!” He clapped his hands together with excitement. ”You're cool!” Yeah, she really felt cool, on her knees on the floor of a shop searching for bars of chocolate. Holly's face went red and she nervously cleared her throat. ”Em...excuse me, could I have another bag, please?”
”Yeah, that'll be -”
”There you go,” the friendly customer interrupted him, placing a twenty-cent coin down on the counter. The newsagent looked perplexed and continued serving the customers.
”I'm Rob,” the man said, helping her put all her chocolate back into the bag, and held his hand out.
”I'm Holly,” she said, a little embarra.s.sed by his overfriendliness as she took his hand. ”And I'm a chocoholic.”
He laughed.
”Thanks for the help,” she said gratefully, getting to her feet.
”No problem.” He held the door open for her. He was good-looking, she thought, a few years older than her, and had the oddest colored eyes, a kind of a gray-green color. She squinted at him and took a closer look.
He cleared his throat.
She blushed, suddenly realizing she had been staring at him like a fool. She walked out to her car and placed the bulging bag in the backseat. Rob followed her over. Her heart did a little flip.
”Hi again,” he said. ”Em...I was wondering if you would like to go for a drink?” Then he laughed, glancing at his watch. ”Actually, it's a bit too early for that, how about a coffee?”
He was a very confident man and he rested himself coolly against the car opposite Holly, his hands sat in the pockets of his jeans with his thumbs resting outside, and those weird eyes just stared back at her. However, he didn't make her feel uncomfortable; in fact, he was acting very relaxed, as though asking a stranger out for coffee was the most natural thing in the world. Was this what people did these days?
”Em...” Holly thought about it. What harm could it do to go for a coffee with a man who had been so polite to her? The fact that he was absolutely gorgeous also helped. But regardless of his beauty, Holly really craved company and he seemed like a nice, decent man to talk to. Sharon and Denise were at work and Holly couldn't keep calling over to her mother's house, Elizabeth had work to do too. Holly really needed to start meeting new people. Many of Gerry and Holly's other friends had been Gerry's friends from work and from various other walks of life, but once he had died all those 'friends' of theirs hadn't been much of a familiar feature around her house. At least she knew who her true friends were.
She was just about to say yes to Rob when he glanced down at her hand and his smile faded. ”Oh sorry, I didn't realize...” He backed away from her awkwardly, as if she had some kind of disease. ”I have to rush off anyway.” He smiled quickly at her and took off down the road.
Holly stared after him, confused. Had she said something wrong? Had she taken too long to decide? Had she broken one of the silent rules of this new meeting-people game? She looked down at the hand that had caused him to run away from her and saw her wedding ring sparkle back at her. She sighed loudly and rubbed her face tiredly.
Just then the teenager from the shop walked by with a gang of friends and a cigarette in his mouth and snorted at her.
She just couldn't win.
Holly slammed the door of her car and looked around. She wasn't in the mood to go home, she was sick of staring at the walls all day every day and talking to herself. It was still only ten o'clock in the morning and it was beautifully sunny and warm outside. Across the road her local cafe, the Greasy Spoon, was setting up tables and chairs outside. Her stomach grumbled. A nice big Irish breakfast was exactly what she needed. She took her sungla.s.ses from the glove compartment of her car, carried her newspapers with both hands and wandered across the road. A plump lady was cleaning the tables. Her hair was tied back tightly in a large bun and a bright red-and-white checked ap.r.o.n covered her flowery dress. Holly felt like she had walked straight into a country kitchen.
”Been a while since these tables have seen sunlight,” she said happily to Holly as she approached the cafe.
”Yeah, it's a beautiful day, isn't it?” Holly said, and the two of them stared up at the clear blue sky. It was funny how good weather in Ireland always seemed to be the conversation of the day with everyone. It was such a rare sight that everyone felt blessed when it finally arrived.
”You want to sit out here, love?”
”Yes I do, might as well make the most out of it, it'll probably be gone in an hour,” Holly laughed, taking a seat.
”You need to think positively, love.” She busied herself around Holly. ”Right, I'll get you the menu,” she said, turning to leave.
”No, it's OK,” Holly called after her, ”I know what I want. I'll have the Irish breakfast.”
”No problem, love.” She smiled, and her eyes widened when she saw the pile of newspapers on the table. ”You thinking of starting your own newsagents?” she chuckled.
Holly looked down at the pile and laughed at the sight of the Arab Leader lying on the top. She had grabbed every single paper and hadn't even thought to check what they were. She doubted very much the Arab Leader contained any articles about the doc.u.mentary.
”Well, to tell you the truth, love,” the woman said, cleaning the table beside her, ”you'd be doing us all a favor if you put that miserable ol' b.a.s.t.a.r.d out of business.” She glared across the road to the newsagent. Holly laughed as the woman waddled back into the cafe.
Holly just sat there for a while watching the world go by. She loved catching snippets of people's conversations as they walked by; it gave her a sneaky peek into the lives of others. She loved to guess what people did for a living, where they were headed to as they rushed by, where they lived, if they were married or single...Sharon and Holly loved going for coffee in Bewley's cafe overlooking Grafton Street, as it was the best place for people-spotting.
They would create little scenarios in their heads to pa.s.s the time, but Holly seemed to be doing this very regularly these days. Just another demonstration of how her mind was caught in other people's lives instead of focusing on her own. For example, the new story she was creating involved the man walking down the path holding hands with his wife. Holly decided that he was secretly gay and the man headed toward them was his lover. Holly watched their faces as they approached each other, wondering if they would make eye contact. They went one better than that and Holly tried not to giggle as the three of them stopped just in front of her table.
”Excuse me? Have you got the time?” the lover asked the secretly gay man and his wife.
”Yes, it's a quarter past ten,” the secretly gay man answered him, looking at his watch.
”Thanks a lot,” the lover said, touching his arm, and walked on.
Now it was as clear as day to Holly that that had been secret code for a rendezvous later. She continued her people-spotting for a little while longer until she eventually got bored and decided to live her own life for a change.
Holly flicked through the pages of the tabloids and came to a small article in the review section that caught her eye.
GIRLS AND THE CITY A HIT IN THE RATINGS.
by Tracey Coleman For any of you unfortunate people who missed out on the outrageously funny TV doc.u.mentary 'Girls and the City' last Wednesday, do not despair, because it will be back on our screens soon.
The hilarious fly-on-the-wall doc.u.mentary, directed by Irishman Declan Kennedy, follows five Dublin girls out for a night on the town. They lift the lid on the mysterious world of celebrity life in trendy club Boudoir and provide us with thirty minutes of stomach-aching laughter.
The show proved to be a success when first aired on Channel 4 last Wednesday, the latest TAM ratings revealing 4 million people tuned in in the UK. The show is to be repeated again Sunday night at 11 P.M. on Channel 4. This is must-see TV, so don't miss it!
Holly tried to keep her cool as she read through the article. It was obviously great news for Declan but disastrous for her. Having that doc.u.mentary aired once was bad enough, never mind a second time. She really needed to have a serious talk with Declan about this. She had let him off lightly the other night because he had been so excited and she didn't want to make a scene, but at this stage she had enough problems on her plate without having to worry about this too.
She flicked through the rest of the papers and saw what it was Sharon was ranting about. Every single tabloid had an article about the doc.u.mentary and one had even printed a photograph of Denise, Sharon and Holly from a few years ago. How they got their hands on it she did not know. Thank G.o.d the broadsheets contained some real news, or Holly would have really worried about the world. However, she wasn't too happy with the use of the words 'mad girls', 'drunken girls&rsquo, and the explanation from one of the papers of how they were 'well up for it&rsquo. What did that even mean?