Cecelia Ahern 2-Book Valentine Collection: PS I Love You, Where Rainbows End. Cecelia Ahern

each brush of wind that passed her face the sweet scent of the tiger lilies filled her nostrils. She felt so … happy, so free.

      Suddenly the sky darkened as the Caribbean sun disappeared behind a looming grey cloud. The wind picked up and the air chilled. Around her all the petals of the tiger lilies were racing through the air wildly, blurring her vision. The once spongy ground was replaced with sharp stones that cut and scraped her feet with every step. The birds had stopped singing and instead perched on their branches and stared. Something was wrong, and she felt afraid. Ahead of her in the distance a grey stone was visible amidst the tall grass. She wanted to run back to her pretty flowers, but she needed to find out what was ahead.

      As she crept closer she heard BANG! BANG! BANG! She quickened her pace and raced over the sharp stones and jagged-edged grass that tore at her arms and legs. She collapsed to her knees in front of the grey slab and let out a scream of pain as she realised what it was. Gerry’s grave. BANG! BANG! BANG!

      He was trying to get out. He was calling her name; she could hear him!

      Holly jumped from her sleep to a loud banging on the front door.

      ‘Holly! Holly! I know you’re there! Please let me in!’ BANG! BANG! BANG!

      Confused and half asleep, she made her way to the door to a frantic-looking Sharon.

      ‘Christ! What were you doing? I’ve been banging on the door for ages!’

      Holly looked around outside, still not fully alert. It was bright and slightly chilly – must be morning.

      ‘Well, aren’t you going to let me in?’

      ‘Yeah, Sharon, sorry. I was just dozing on the couch.’

      ‘God, you look terrible, Hol.’ Sharon studied her face before giving her a big hug.

      ‘Wow, thanks.’ Holly rolled her eyes and turned to shut the door. Sharon was never one to beat about the bush, but that’s why she loved her so much. That’s also why Holly hadn’t been around to see Sharon for the past month. She didn’t want to hear the truth. She didn’t want to hear how she had to get on with her life; she just wanted … oh, she didn’t know what she wanted. She was content to be miserable. It somehow felt right.

      ‘God, it’s so stuffy in here. When’s the last time you opened a window?’ Sharon marched around the house, opening windows and picking up empty cups and plates. She brought them into the kitchen where she placed them in the dishwasher and then proceeded to tidy up.

      ‘Oh, you don’t have to do it, Sharon,’ Holly protested weakly. ‘I’ll do it …’

      ‘When? Next year? I don’t want you slumming it while the rest of us pretend not to notice. Why don’t you go upstairs and shower, and we’ll have a cup of tea when you come down?’

      A shower. When was the last time she had even washed? Sharon was right, she must have looked disgusting, with her greasy hair, her dark roots and dirty robe. Gerry’s robe. But that was something she never intended to wash. She wanted it exactly as Gerry had left it. Unfortunately, his smell was beginning to fade, replaced by the unmistakable stink of her own skin.

      ‘OK, but there’s no milk. I haven’t got around to …’ Holly felt embarrassed by her lack of care for the house and for herself. There was no way she was letting Sharon look inside that fridge or she would definitely have her committed.

      ‘Ta-da!’ Sharon sang, holding up a bag Holly hadn’t noticed her carry in. ‘Don’t worry, I took care of that. By the looks of it you haven’t eaten in weeks.’

      ‘Thanks, Sharon.’ A lump formed in Holly’s throat and tears welled in her eyes. She was being so good to her.

      ‘Hold it! There will be no tears today! Just fun and laughter and general happiness, my dear friend. Now shower, quick!’

      Holly felt almost human when she came back downstairs. She was dressed in a blue tracksuit and allowed her long blonde (and brown at the roots) hair to fall down on her shoulders. All the windows downstairs were wide open and the cool breeze rushed through Holly’s head. It felt as though it was eliminating all her bad thoughts and fears. She laughed at the possibility of her mother being right after all. Holly snapped out of her trance and gasped as she looked around the house. She can’t have been any longer than a half an hour but Sharon had tidied and polished, vacuumed and plumped, washed, and sprayed air freshener in every room. She followed the humming noise she could hear to the kitchen where Sharon was scrubbing the hobs. The counters were gleaming; the chrome taps and draining board sparkling.

      ‘Sharon, you absolute angel! I can’t believe you did all this. And in such a short time!’

      ‘Ha! You were gone for over an hour. I was beginning to think you’d fallen down the plughole. You would and all, the size of you.’ She looked Holly up and down.

      An hour? Once again Holly’s daydreaming had taken over her mind.

      ‘OK, so I just bought some vegetables and fruit, there’s cheese and yogurts in there, and milk, of course. I don’t know where you keep the pasta and tinned foods so I just put them over there. Oh, and there’s a few microwave dinners in the freezer. That should do you for a while, but by the looks of you it’ll last you the year. How much weight have you lost?’

      Holly looked down at her body. Her tracksuit was sagging at the bum and the waist tie was pulled to its tightest, yet still drooped to her hips. She hadn’t noticed the weight loss at all.

      She was brought back to reality by Sharon’s voice again: ‘There’s a few biscuits there to go with your tea. Jammie Dodgers, your favourite.’

      That did it. This was all too much for Holly. The Jammie Dodgers were the icing on the cake. She felt the tears run down her face. ‘Oh, Sharon,’ she wailed, ‘thank you so much. You’ve been so good to me and I’ve been such a horrible, horrible bitch of a friend.’ She sat at the table and grabbed Sharon’s hand. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you.’ Sharon sat opposite her in silence, allowing her to continue. This is what Holly had been dreading, breaking down in front of people at every possible occasion. But she didn’t feel embarrassed. Sharon was just patiently sipping her tea and holding her hand like it was normal. Eventually the tears stopped falling.

      ‘Thanks.’

      ‘I’m your best friend, Hol; if I don’t help you then who will?’ Sharon said, squeezing her hand and giving her an encouraging smile.

      ‘Suppose I should be helping myself.’

      ‘Pah!’ Sharon spat, waving her hand dismissively. ‘Whenever you’re ready. Don’t mind all those people who say that you should be back to normal in a month. Grieving is all part of helping yourself, anyway.’

      She always said the right things.

      ‘Yeah, well, I’ve been doing a lot of that. I’m all grieved out.’

      ‘You can’t be!’ said Sharon, mock disgusted. ‘And only a month after your husband is cold in his grave.’

      ‘Oh, stop! There’ll be plenty of that from people, though, won’t there?’

      ‘Probably, but screw them. There are worse sins in the world than learning to be happy again.’

      ‘Suppose.’

      ‘Promise me you’ll eat.’

      ‘Promise.’

      ‘Thanks for coming round, Sharon. I really enjoyed the chat,’ Holly said, gratefully hugging her friend. ‘I feel a lot better already.’

      ‘You know it’s good to be around people, Hol. Friends and family can help you. Well, actually, on second thoughts, maybe not your family,’ she joked, ‘but at least the rest of us can.’

      ‘Oh, I realise that now. I just thought I could handle it on my own at first.’

      ‘Promise me you’ll call round. Or at