Chapter 3
One Month Before the Party
‘Sloane, can you turn the printer on please?’ Holly asked as she did the finishing touches to her birthday invitations.
‘My nails are still damp, sorry,’ Sloane muttered, and Holly couldn’t help but think she didn’t sound particularly sorry, as her friend blew lightly across her nails. Sloane didn’t even glance in Holly’s direction when she spoke.
‘No problem.’ Holly disentangled herself from her desk, and clambered over Sloane who was splayed out across her bedroom floor.
Her best friend had come back for the weekend to visit.
At first, Holly had been so excited to spend time with her, but something wasn’t right.
And if she was being honest with herself, it hadn’t been for a while now.
When Sloane had first gone away to Uni, nearly three years ago, the change hadn’t been so noticeable.
Her friend had quickly adjusted to her new position as the more successful of the two, and Holly had accepted the change in their dynamics.
Sloane had never been an easy friend. But at least when things were good, they were really good.
That memory of happier times had always kept things OK when things weren’t so good.
This weekend though, there had been a marked shift.
There was a bitterness to Sloane’s tone Holly hadn’t heard before.
But when she’d tried to broach it, Sloane had laughed at her.
With a gentle push of a button, the printer whirred to life, but instead of the reassuring sound of the paper being sucked into the heart of the machine, it beeped three times then fell silent.
A single red flashing light told her it was out of paper.
As she made her way downstairs to the office behind the bar, to get more paper, her parents’ hushed voices pulled her up short.
‘Mike, don’t, someone will hear us,’ her mum giggled and Holly felt a bit sick.
‘So what if they hear us, we’re doing nowt wrong.’
At her dad’s words, her mum giggled again.
Holly coughed loudly outside the office door.
‘Please don’t be naked in there,’ she called out as she pushed open the door with one hand covering her eyes; just in case.
Silently she said a quick prayer that she wasn’t about to walk in on something that would scar her for life.
‘No-one’s naked, Holly Berry,’ Sandra Loxley cooed at her daughter, gently prying her hand from her face. Her mum was telling the truth. No-one was naked, but her parents were dressed as Sonny and Cher.
‘What are you wearing?’ Holly managed to ask, as she took in the ridiculous outfits, complete with wigs.
‘Our karaoke outfits for tonight,’ her dad replied as if what she was seeing was perfectly normal.
‘The karaoke isn’t for hours though. You two are so weird,’ she moaned.
‘But you love us anyway,’ her dad said, wiggling his eyebrows at her as she swished his ridiculous wig.
‘That might have to go under advisement - especially if you start singing together tonight,’ at the sheepish look that flashed between her parents, Holly baulked, ‘No, please. No singing,’ she pleaded. ‘You promised us hosting the karaoke nights would not result in either of you two singing!’
‘But your mother has the voice of an angel, and I think the whole village needs to hear it,’ her dad countered, looking deadly serious despite wearing a long brown wig that fell like curtains framing his face.
‘Quit teasing, Mike. Don’t panic, there’ll be no singing,’ her mum reassured her.
‘Promise?’
‘Cross my heart. We just like getting into the spirit of things.’
Holly nodded, she trusted her mum to keep her word. Her dad - never, but always her mum.
‘Did you need something?’ her mum asked, pushing away from her dad’s hold.
‘Some paper for my printer. I’ve finished my birthday invites.’
‘Did you decide on the venue?’
‘The Dolphin.’
‘Not here?’ her dad sounded offended.
‘I’m here all the time, Dad. I wanted somewhere different for my 21st.’
‘Stop it, Mike. We talked about this,’ her mum’s tight tone brokered no arguments.
‘Fine,’ he huffed, moving to sit on the desk.
‘How’s Sloane?’ her mum’s questions caught her off guard. Holly was still taking in her dad’s sullen expression so she didn’t school her features quickly enough to hide her feelings. ‘That bad, huh?’
‘No. No, she’s being a bit more distant than usual.’
‘She’s often like that in the run up to your birthday, darling. Don’t take it to heart,’ her mum said at the same time her dad offered, ‘Want me to throw her out? I can do that as the landlord.’
Holly laughed. ‘Thanks, Mum,’ and with a playful glare in her dad’s direction she added, ‘Not necessary, Dad.’
With a small ream of paper in hand, Holly took the stairs two at a time to get back up to her room. Muffled giggles had resumed from the office, and Holly wanted to get as far away from her parents as she could.
‘Got some pa–’ the words died on her lips as she saw Sloane riffling through her desk.
Sloane stilled, and took a few seconds before she turned to face Holly.
‘Just looking for a pen,’ she threw her explanation out, taunting Holly with the ridiculous excuse.
Holly’s pens were strewn across the carpet that Sloane would have stepped over to reach Holly’s desk.
As her mind processed the lie and what it could mean, she made a decision.
It would have been easy to call her out, to scoff at the blatant fabrication.
But the fallout would be too much. Holly didn’t want an argument today.
Arguments, with anyone other than her older brother, sapped her happiness and she avoided them at all costs.
Instead, Holly chased joy with every fibre of her being.
As she took in Sloane’s tight stare, any ember of fight in her shrivelled back, not wanting to be drawn out.
Whatever was going on between her and Sloane would pass.
And then she’d have her friend back. So she nodded.
‘I just caught my parents in their Sonny and Cher outfits for later,’ Holly distracted them both from Sloane’s lie with her own confession.
‘Urgh. They are so embarrassing.’
Holly laughed along, but it hurt her to do so.
Each forced laugh was a little stab in her chest. It was a betrayal to her beautiful parents.
When she’d called them weird, minutes earlier, it had been said with love, in the way only a child can say to their parents, when not actually meaning it.
When what she actually meant was, God I love you, don’t ever change. Sloane, however, meant it.
‘Are you coming to the karaoke tonight?’ Holly asked to steer the conversation away.
‘That would be a no. Who wants to sit in a pub and listen to bad singers murder songs all night? I’ve rented The Departed. Oh you could join us if you want?’
‘Us?’
‘Yeah. Didn’t I tell you? Seb is home for the weekend too. When he heard I was coming back, he tagged along. Something about wanting to see Dylan.’
‘Danny.’
‘What?’
‘Danny. Seb’s brother is called Danny.’
‘Oh, you knew who I meant.’ Sloane dismissed Holly’s correction with a flick of her wrist.
‘How is Seb doing?’ she asked, trying to sound aloof, but obviously failed if the gleam in Sloane’s eyes were anything to go by.
‘Oh you’re not still crushing on him are you?’ When Holly didn’t reply, Sloane laughed. ‘Oh God, you are? Holly, he is so out of your league. You should see the girls who are into him at Uni.’
Tears stung at the apex of Holly’s nose at Sloane’s cruel words, but she willed them away. She told herself Sloane’s mocking tone was rooted in something else, and she was just on the receiving end. But no matter how firmly she told herself that, those taunting words cut deep.
She chose to ignore the jab about Seb, instead replying, ‘I’ll pass on the film, I read the reviews and it sounds a bit intense for me.’
Without allowing Sloane an opening to say anything else disparaging, she added, ‘And anyway, it’ll be busy in the pub tonight, so I’ll probably have to help out anyway.’
‘Suit yourself.’ And with that, she peeled away from Holly’s desk and made her way out of the room. ‘See you later,’ she called from the doorway without looking back.
Now alone, Holly looked through her desk to try and work out what Sloane had been looking for.
And then it struck her. She always kept her diary in that drawer.
Just this last week though, she’d spilt hot chocolate on it and had ruined it - not only were the pages stained, but stuck together.
Right now, it was somewhere in the depths of the Spital Bridge Recycling Centre.
Holly breathed a little easier in the knowledge Sloane wasn’t in possession of her diary.
She’d been brought to tears when throwing it away - but if the alternative was Sloane reading it, she was much happier with it being where it was.
The pages weren’t only filled with her feelings for Seb, she used the blank page to work through her insecurities about her friendship with Sloane and her disappointment with her failed A-Levels.
With Sloane behaving how she was right now, if she had read Holly’s words, she didn’t think she’d recover from how they’d be used against her.
A shudder ran down her neck at the near miss.
*
Elton John, Mariah Carey, and someone who could have been Robbie Williams stood outside The Smuggler’s Inn, smoking, as Holly settled herself at the door waiting to collect the ￡2 entrance fee.
She had called her parents weird earlier, but honestly, she loved that they and everyone else dressed up for the monthly karaoke night.
Tonight, Holly had transformed herself into Avril Lavigne - complete with fishnet tights, a tartan skirt, white t-shirt, and her converse high tops.
She hadn’t had to do anything with her hair; her long blonde locks were perfect for the look.
But although she looked the part, she was freezing.
Her dad had offered her his Del Boy style sheepskin coat, and even though it would have kept her warm, it would have ruined her look.
So she’d refused; happy instead to suffer for her fashion choices.
With each bite of the chilly February wind though, she was reevaluating that decision.
‘Shall we go and say hi to Holly?’ Seb’s warm voice reached Holly before she saw him, and the hairs on the back of her neck rose in anticipation of seeing him. He was pushing Danny’s wheelchair up the sloping path towards her, bending his head to speak directly into his brother’s ear.
‘Danny, my favourite Walker brother,’ she said, smiling at him as he turned his face towards her voice.
Seb laughed at her words, but the sound spluttered out as he took her in.
‘Holly,’ he gulped, ‘that’s some outfit you’re wearing.’
‘Not every day you get to wear fishnets - you have to make the most of all the opportunities.’
‘It suits you.’ He gulped again, and Holly couldn’t stop tracking the movement of his Adam’s apple.
Forcing herself to look away from Seb, she focussed her attention back on his brother. ‘Danny, I’m disappointed in you and your brother. Where are your costumes for tonight?’
With her eyes solely on Danny, she was able to appreciate the full smile her attention brought forth.
‘Sorry, I forgot it was this weekend,’ Seb apologised.
Holly was surprised to see he looked genuinely sorry. She knew he had never planned to join the karaoke night, but couldn’t resist teasing them both.
‘Shall we let him off?’ she asked Danny, tearing her gaze away from Seb.
Danny’s smile seemed to grow impossibly wider and the affection in his eyes made her heart swell.
‘He really likes you, Holly,’ Seb added, looking between Holly and his brother.
‘Well the feeling is mutual.’
A crash from inside the pub snagged Holly’s attention at the same time little hands grabbed at the bowl of sweets her dad have given her to sweeten the deal for being on the door tonight. The sneak attack caused the bowl to crash to the ground, scattering sweets everywhere.
‘Oi! Peter! I know that’s you,’ she shouted out at a retreating figure who had scarpered with as many sweets as he could stuff in his coat pockets. She’d recognise his yellow coat anywhere.
Holly knelt down at the same time as Seb as she tried to pick up the remaining chocolates. Their fingers brushed each other and she stilled at the contact.
‘Holly–’ he said at the same time as her dad’s voice called out from inside the pub.
‘Holly Berry, I can’t get this stupid microphone to stay in the stand.’
‘Sorry, it sounds like I’m needed inside.
’ Holly hated that their first interaction for weeks had to be cut so short, but she could just imagine how frustrated her dad would be getting with the microphone and it was always better to step in quickly with him.
Especially if they still wanted an intact microphone stand.
He wasn’t an angry man, but when things frustrated him, he had a habit of accidentally breaking them.
‘Sure. Of course. I’ll pick up the rest of these for you,’ Seb said, and Holly could have sworn he looked just as disappointed as she felt.
‘Thanks. Oh and Danny, if you catch up with Peter, get Seb to give him a stern talking to.’