Chapter 8
Five Days Before the Party
As the credits to The Lake House scrolled up the screen in the living room above the pub, Holly didn’t bother trying to stop the tears tracking down her cheeks.
‘Oh God, are you actually crying?’ Sloane scoffed as she side-eyed her.
Feeling embarrassed at her reaction, Holly hastily swiped away the tears.
‘It’s just a film, Holly.’
‘I know, but I was so worried.’
‘You’re such an idiot.’ Holly tried to find the humour that would sometimes be present in Sloane’s put downs.
But she struggled to find much kindness in her tone these days.
Today the absence of any affection in her words, when Holly had been upset, jarred.
It didn’t matter she was upset about a film, she’d wanted her friend to understand her.
‘Want anything to eat?’ she asked, as a distraction.
‘I could go for some crisps.’
Holly ducked out of her room and joined her parents behind the bar to raid their snack supplies.
‘Good film?’ her mum asked.
‘Loved it - made me cry though.’
‘Oh I like it when a film makes me cry - tells me I’ve made an emotional connection. Tells me they did something right.’
Holly nodded, ‘Yeah, I guess.’
With her stolen snacks safely tucked against her chest, she made to head back upstairs.
It was time for Sloane’s pick for their movie night.
When they’d planned this, it had turned out Seb and Sloane hadn’t watched The Departed last month, and although Holly was worried she’d find it too stressful, she’d agreed to watch it.
‘Hold up, Holly Berry,’ her dad said, reaching out his hand as her foot reached for the first step of the stairs.
‘I’ll pay for the crisps, Dad,’ Holly sighed with her eyebrows raised. But he laughed.
‘Don’t worry about the crisps.’ He shifted a little before continuing, which made Holly turn back to face him properly - he was nervous. And he was never nervous. ‘Your mum told me about the uni course.’
Holly’s heart sank. She’d been dreading this conversation. She hated she was making her parents worry about affording something that really wasn’t necessary. ‘It’s too much money, Dad. Don’t worry.’
‘How about if we pay half?’
‘I still can’t afford the other ￡650 though, Dad. Honestly, let’s forget about it.’
‘Or you could apply to the Prince’s Fund? You’d get ￡500 towards it,’ he casually dropped the amount in gently, as if he didn’t know how much of a game changer this information was.
At those soft words, hope rose in Holly’s chest. She could afford ￡150.
‘Your Dad sent the paperwork off yesterday,’ her mum added with a wide smile, ‘hopefully we’ll hear back soon.’
Holly set the crisps down onto the bar and pulled her parents in for a tight hug, feeling so lucky to have them in her corner.
*
Later that night, as Holly got herself ready for bed, she padded over to her window to draw her curtains closed.
Just as the fabric came together, the last vestige of the moonlight caught on the pile of envelopes that were tucked into the corner of her bureau.
Letters. Holly couldn’t remember the last time she’d written a letter.
It was probably a thank you card her parents had made her write for a birthday present.
She wasn’t sure whether it was the image of Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock writing to each other in The Lake House, or the fact she was so excited to see Seb next week - but either way she found herself needing to write to him.
She wanted to write a letter to tell him all the things she wasn’t able to say to his face.
Which was why, instead of slipping under her covers and going to sleep, she pulled out her chair and set to pouring her heart out onto her 120gsm lavender infused paper.
*
The following morning, she woke to her mum gently shaking her.
‘Holly, darling, Sloane’s downstairs. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see her yet?’
As she rubbed away the last of her sleep, she took in the unspoken message in those words.
The real question wasn’t whether she wanted to see her yet, it was whether she wanted to see her at all.
She was giving her an out. The movie night had ended abruptly, when Sloane had got a message from her dad and had left halfway through The Departed.
Holly’s mum had assumed there must have been some argument, and no amount of denial had sufficed to curb her suspicions.
‘No, that’s alright. Send her up, I’ll just go and brush my teeth so I don’t fog her with my morning breath.’
Her mum nodded. She wasn’t Sloane’s biggest fan.
Wasn’t a fan of her at all really. But she didn’t know her like Holly did.
She didn’t know how good their friendship could be.
What was happening now, was a phase Holly needed to weather.
Whilst they’d been watching The Departed last night, it was almost like having the old Sloane back - they’d had fun - until Sloane had upped and left without an explanation.
Holly pushed herself out of bed and padded down the hallway to the bathroom.
Five minutes later, she returned to her room to see Sloane at her desk, again. Except this time she’d found something to occupy her.
‘Oh, Holly. I knew you had it bad, but please tell me you aren’t planning on giving this to Seb?’
As she took in the letter in Sloane’s hand, the words from her friend’s lips caused Holly’s brain to engage. She lunged over, swiping the letter out of Sloane’s fingers.
‘You were!’ Sloane’s laugh was full bodied, and cruel.
‘I just–’ she couldn’t finish the sentence any more than stop the blush that exploded across her face.
‘You just wanted to come across as an absolute idiot?’ Sloane finished Holly’s sentence with an interpretation of what she hadn’t been able to explain.
‘I wanted to get my feelings down on paper. I thought it would be an easy way to let him know how I felt.’ Her defense came out stronger and more forceful than she intended.
‘Yeah… if you’re ten,’ Sloane scoffed.
Holly shoved the letter back inside the envelope and threw it onto her bed. When Sloane went to take it again, she flicked it further away where it hit the wall and slipped down the side of her bed. Lost to the abyss down there.
‘I wasn’t even sure if I was going to give it to him.
I wanted to get my feelings straight,’ Holly replied, desperate to justify her actions.
That sharp, defensive tone to her voice had stayed, and she hated hearing this side of herself.
She hardly ever spoke to Sloane like this, and could see the surprise - just momentarily - in her best friend’s eyes.
It only lasted for a second, and then she schooled her features.
‘Sorry.’
The word shocked Holly more than finding her at the desk.
‘What?’
‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have read it - or teased you about it.’ Sloane’s tone was friendlier now. It was nearly nice.
‘Oh, right. Thanks.’
‘But it’s such a bad idea. Tell you what, how about I tell Seb what you’d written in that letter?
I’ll be your wingwoman.’ At Holly’s confused face, she explained, ‘I’ll be the go-between.
I’ll tell him you fancy him and see if he wants to go out with you.
I’ll even tell him the sappy suggestion of meeting you at the pub before the party. ’
The turn around in Sloane’s demeanor gave Holly whiplash. But this was the Sloane of years ago. Before Uni. Before things started getting strained. This was the Sloane she’d missed.
‘You’d do that for me?’
‘To stop you handing out letters like we’re still at primary school - yes, Holly. I’ll gladly do that for you.’
‘You can’t do it too soon though. It has to be on the day.’ Holly wasn’t sure why she was so adamant about this, but she was. She’d built herself up to telling him on that particular day.
‘No problem. I’ll find him in the afternoon on your birthday, and confess your undying love for him.’
And because she always caved to Sloane’s whims and wishes, Holly not only found herself agreeing, but also thinking this was a much better idea than the letter she’d written.
*
That night, when she passed her parents’ room on her way to the bathroom, Holly overheard them whilst they watched Lewis, a new detective drama they’d been excited about.
‘I worry about her, Mike.’
‘She’s fine.’
‘I don’t think she is. All her friends have left for uni and she’s stuck here with us.’
‘It’s what she wanted to do though, and ‘appen she’ll get the grant so she can get that certificate.’
‘I know. I know…’
‘But…’
‘But, she needs something more.’
‘More? Surely the course will keep her busy enough?’
There was a pause, and Holly found herself leaning closer to their bedroom door.
‘Can you show her the ropes at the brewery?’ her mum’s tentative question sat in the air and Holly held her breath as she waited for her dad to reply.
‘I could. For a price…’
‘Ya daft beggar…’ her mum’s giggles abruptly pulled her away from the doorway and back on course to the bathroom, like a magnet desperately seeking north.
As the toothpaste frothed in her mouth, Holly smiled at her mum’s idea.
She was right. Holly did need more than what she was currently doing.
Luke had the garage. He’d always been so driven.
He knew he didn’t want to work at the pub, and by the age of 24 he’d carved a life for himself as a mechanic.
But Holly had never really thought about the microbrewery as something to get involved with.
Her dad’s hobby with brewing had resulted in being able to brew his own award winning ales.
It was something he’d done with his friends until it had grown into something more than a hobby.
Maybe it would be a good thing for her to get involved with.
Plus, it was an excuse to spend more time with her dad.
It was always easier for Holly and her mum to spend time together; it just seemed to occur naturally.
But now, the prospect of focussed time with her dad felt special; like a little unexpected gift.