OLLY WAS RUNNING LATE AS she rushed around her bedroom trying to get dressed for the ball. She had spent the past two hours applying her makeup, crying and smudging it and then reapplying it. She rolled the mascara brush over her eyelashes for the fourth time, praying the tear reservoir had run dry for the night.

An unlikely prospect, but a girl could always hope.

"Cinderella, your prince has arrived!" Sharon yelled upstairs to Holly.

Holly's heart raced, she needed more time. She needed to sit down and rethink the idea of going to the ball all over again, as she had completely forgotten her reasons for going. Now she was faced with only the negatives.

Reasons not to go: She didn't want to go at all, she would spend all night crying, she would be stuck at a table full of so-called friends who hadn't talked to her since Gerry had died, she felt like shit, she looked like shit and Gerry wouldn't be there.

Reasons to go: She had an overwhelming feeling that she needed to go.

She breathed slowly, trying to prevent a whole new batch of tears from appearing.

"Holly, be strong, you can do this," she whispered to her reflection in the mirror. "You need to do this, it will help you, it will make you stronger." She repeated this over and over again until a creak at the door made her jump.

"Sorry," Sharon apologized, appearing from around the door. "Oh Holly, you look fabulous!" she said excitedly.

"I look like shit," Holly grumbled.

"Oh, stop saying that," Sharon said angrily. "I look like a blimp and do you hear me complaining? Accept the fact that you're a babe!" She smiled at her in the mirror, "You'll be fine."

"I just want to stay home tonight, Sharon. I have to open Gerry's last message." Holly couldn't believe the time had come to open the last one. After tomorrow there would be no more kind words from Gerry, and she still felt that she needed them. In all her excitement back in April, she couldn't wait for the months to pass so that she could rip the envelopes open and read that perfect handwriting, but she had wished the months away all too quickly and now it was the end. She wanted to stay in that night and savor their last special moment.

"I know," Sharon said, understanding. "But that can wait for a few hours, can't it?"

Holly was just about to say no when John shouted up the stairs. "Come on, girls! The taxi's waiting! We have to collect Tom and Denise!"

Before Holly followed Sharon downstairs she slid open the drawer of her dressing table and took out the November letter from Gerry she had opened weeks ago. She needed his words of encouragement to help her out now. She ran her fingers over the ink and pictured him writing it. She pictured the face he made when he wrote that she always used to tease him about. It was a face of pure concentration; his tongue even licked his lips as he wrote. She loved that face. She missed that face. She slid the card from the envelope. She needed strength from this letter, and she knew she would find it. Every day, she read: Cinderella must go to the ball this month. And she will look glamorous and beautiful and have the time of her life just like always . . . But no white dresses this year . . .

PS, I love you . . .

Holly took a deep breath and followed Sharon downstairs.

"Wow," Daniel said, his mouth dropping open. "You look fabulous, Holly."

"I look like shit," Holly grumbled, and Sharon shot her a look. "But thanks," she quickly added. John Paul had helped her choose a simple black halter-neck dress, with a split to the thigh up the middle. No white dresses this year.

They all piled into the seven-seater taxi, and as they approached each set of traffic lights Holly prayed that they would turn red. No such luck. For once the traffic on the streets of Dublin cleared, and after picking up Tom and Denise, they made it to the hotel in record time. Despite her prayers, a mud slide didn't cascade down the Dublin Mountains and no volcano erupted. Hell refused to freeze over too.

They stepped up to the table just inside the door of the function room and Holly looked to the ground as she felt all eyes in their direction from the women eager to see how the newcomers were dressed. When they were satisfied that they were still the most beautiful people there, they turned away and continued their conversations. The woman sitting behind the desk smiled as they approached her. "Hello Sharon, hello John, hi Denise . . . oh gosh!" Her face might actually have gone whiter under her streaky fake-tanned face, but Holly couldn't be sure. "Oh hello, Holly, it's so good of you to come considering . . ." She trailed off and quickly flicked through the guest list to tick off their names.

"Let's go to the bar," Denise said, linking her arm in Holly's and dragging her away from the woman.

As they walked across the room to the bar a woman Holly hadn't spoken to for months approached her.

"Holly, I was sorry to hear about Gerry. He was a lovely man."

"Thank you." Holly smiled and was dragged away again by Denise. They finally reached the bar.

"Hi there, Holly," a familiar voice behind her said.

"Oh hello, Paul," she said, turning to face the large businessman who sponsored the charity. He was tall and overweight with a bright red face, probably due to the stress of running one of Ireland's most successful businesses. That and the fact that he drank too much. He looked like he was choking underneath the tightness of his bow tie and he pulled at it, looking uncomfortable. The buttons on his tuxedo looked like they were about to pop any moment. Holly didn't know him very well; he was just one of the people she knew from meeting at the ball every year.

"You're looking as lovely as always." He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Can I get you a drink?" he asked, holding his hand up to attract the barman's attention.

"Oh no, thanks," she smiled.

"Ah let me," he said, taking his bulging wallet out of his pocket. "What'll you have?"

Holly gave in, "A white wine then, please, if you insist." She smiled.

"I might as well get a drink for that miserable husband of yours," he laughed. "What's he having?" he asked, searching the room for him.

"Oh, he's not here, Paul," Holly said, feeling uncomfortable.

"Ah why not? The dryshite. What's he up to?" Paul asked loudly.

"Em, he passed away early in the year, Paul," Holly said gently, hoping not to embarrass him.

"Oh," Paul reddened even more and he cleared his throat nervously. He stared down at the bar. "I'm very sorry to hear that," he stuttered and looked away. He pulled at his bow tie again.

"Thank you," Holly said, counting the seconds in her head till he made an excuse to leave the conversation. He left after three seconds, saying he had to bring his wife her drink. Holly was left standing at the bar alone, as Denise had made her way back to the group with their drinks. She picked up her glass of wine and headed over.

"Hi, Holly."

She turned to see who had called her name.

"Oh, hello, Jennifer." She was faced with another woman she knew only from attending the ball. She was dressed in an over-the-top ball gown, dripping in expensive jewelry, and she held a glass of champagne between the thumb and forefinger of her gloved hand. Her blond hair was almost white, and her skin was dark and leathery as a result of too much sun.

"How are you? You look fab, the dress is fab!" She sipped on her champagne and looked Holly up and down.

"I'm fine, thank you, you?"

"I'm just fab, thanks. Gerry not with you tonight?" she looked around the room for him.

"No, he passed away in February," she repeated gently.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry to hear that." She placed her glass of champagne down on the table next to them and her hands flew to her face, her forehead creasing with worry. "I had no idea. How are you keeping, you poor love?" she reached out and placed her hand on Holly's arm.

"I'm fine, thank you," Holly repeated, smiling to keep the atmosphere light.

"Oh, you poor thing." Jennifer's voice was hushed and she looked at her pityingly. "You must be devastated."

"Well yes, it is hard, but I'm dealing with it. Trying to be positive, you know?"

"Gosh, I don't know how you can be, that's awful news." Her eyes continued to bore into Holly. She seemed to look at her differently now. Holly nodded along and wished this woman would stop telling her what she already knew.

"And was he ill?" she probed.

"Yes, he had a brain tumor," she explained.

"Oh dear, that's awful. And he was so young." Every word she emphasized became a high-pitched screech.

"Yes he was . . . but we had a happy life together, Jennifer." She once again tried to keep the atmosphere positive, a concept she didn't think this woman was aware of.

"Yes you did, but what a shame it wasn't a longer life. That's devastating for you. Absolutely awful and so unfair. You must feel miserable. And how on earth did you come here tonight? With all these couples around?" She looked around at all the couples as though there were suddenly a bad smell in the air.

"Well, you just have to learn to move on," Holly smiled.

"Of course you do. But it must be so difficult. Oh, how awful." She held her gloved hands up to her face, looking appalled.

Holly smiled and spoke through gritted teeth, "Yes, it's difficult, but like I said you just have to stay positive and move on. Anyway, speaking of moving on, I better go and join my friends," she said politely and dashed off.

"You all right?" Daniel asked as she joined her friends.

"Yes I'm fine, thank you," she repeated for the tenth time that night. She glanced over at Jennifer, who was in a huddle with her female friends talking and staring over at Holly and Daniel.

"I have arrived!" a loud voice announced at the door. Holly turned around to see Jamie, the party animal, standing at the door with his arms held high in the air. "I have once again dressed in my penguin suit and I am ready to partaaay!" He did a little dance before joining the group, attracting stares from around the room. Just what he wanted. He made his way around their circle greeting the men with a handshake and the women with a kiss on the cheek, sometimes "hilariously" switching the gesture. He paused when he got to Holly and he glanced back and forth from Holly to Daniel a couple of times. He shook Daniel's hand stiffly, pecked Holly on the cheek quickly as though she were diseased, and rushed off. Holly tried to swallow the lump in her throat angrily. That had been very rude.

His wife, Helen, smiled timidly over at Holly from across the other side of their circle but didn't come over.

Holly wasn't surprised. It had obviously been too difficult for them to drive ten minutes down the road to visit Holly after Gerry died, so she would hardly expect Helen to take ten steps toward her to say hello. She ignored them and turned to talk to her real friends, the people who had supported her for the past year.

Holly was laughing at one of Sharon's stories when she felt a light tapping on her shoulder. She turned around mid-laughter to face a very sad-looking Helen.

"Hi, Helen," she said happily.

"How are you?" Helen said quietly, touching Holly gently on the arm.

"Oh I'm fine," Holly nodded. "You should listen to this story, it's very funny." She smiled and continued to listen to Sharon.

Helen left her hand on Holly's arm and eventually tapped her again after a few minutes. "I mean, how are you since Gerry . . ."

Holly gave up listening to Sharon.

"Since Gerry died, do you mean?" Holly understood that people sometimes felt awkward about these situations. Holly often did too, but she felt that if someone had brought the subject up themselves they could at least be adult enough to carry the conversation through properly.

Helen appeared to wince at Holly's question. "Well yes, but I didn't want to say . . ."

"It's OK, Helen; I've accepted that that's what happened."

"Have you?"

"Of course I have," Holly frowned.

"It's just that I haven't seen you for a very long time so I was beginning to get worried . . ."

Holly laughed. "Helen, I still live around the corner from you in the same house as before, my home phone number is still the same, as is my mobile number. If you were ever that worried about me I was never that difficult for you to find."

"Oh yes, but I didn't want to intrude . . ." She trailed off as if that were her explanation for not seeing Holly since the funeral.

"Friends don't intrude, Helen," Holly said politely, but she hoped she had gotten her message across.

Helen's cheeks blushed slightly and Holly turned away to answer Sharon.

"Keep me a seat beside you, will you? I just need to run to the ladies again," Sharon asked, doing a little dance on the spot.

"Again?" Denise blurted out. "You were just there five minutes ago!"

"Yes, well, this tends to happen when you have a seven-month-old baby pushing down on your bladder," she explained before waddling off to the toilet.

"It's not actually seven months old, though, is it?" Denise said, scrunching her face up. "Technically it's minus two months, because otherwise that would mean that the baby would be nine months old when he was born and then they would be celebrating his first birthday after only three months. And usually babies are walking by the time they're one."

Holly frowned at her. "Denise, why do you torment yourself with thoughts like that?"

Denise frowned and turned to Tom, "I'm right though, aren't I, Tom?"

"Yes love," he smiled sweetly at her.

"Chicken," Holly teased Tom.

The bell was rung, signaling that it was time to take their places in the dining area and the crowds began to swarm in. Holly took her seat and placed her new handbag down on the chair beside her to reserve it for Sharon. Helen wandered over and pulled out the chair to sit down.

"Sorry Helen, but Sharon asked me to save this seat for her," Holly explained politely.

Helen waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, Sharon won't mind," she said, plonking herself down on the chair and squashing Holly's new handbag. Sharon made her way over to the table and stuck out her bottom lip in disappointment. Holly apologized and motioned over to Helen as her excuse. Sharon rolled her eyes and stuck her fingers in her mouth and pretended to gag. Holly giggled.

"Well, you're in high spirits," Jamie announced to Holly, sounding very unimpressed.

"Is there any reason why I shouldn't be?" Holly replied tartly.

Jamie answered with some smart retort that a few people laughed at because he was "so funny," and Holly ignored him. She didn't find him funny anymore, though she and Gerry had always been among those people who hung on his every word. Now he was just being stupid.

"Are you OK?" Daniel asked quietly from beside her.

"Yes I'm fine, thank you," she replied, taking a sip of wine.

"Oh, you don't have to give me that bullshit answer, Holly. It's me," he laughed.

Holly smiled and groaned. "People are being very nice and all by offering me their sympathies," she lowered her voice to a whisper so Helen couldn't hear, "but I feel like I'm back at his funeral again. Having to pretend to be all strong and superwoman-like even though all some of them want is for me to be devastated because it's so awful." She mimicked Jennifer and rolled her eyes. "And then there are the people who don't know about Gerry and this is so not the place to have to tell them." Daniel listened to her patiently.

He nodded when she finally stopped talking. "I understand what you're saying. When Laura and I broke up I felt that for months everywhere I went I was telling people that we had broken up. But the good thing is that eventually word goes around so you can stop having those awkward conversations with people all the time."

"Any word on Laura by the way?" Holly asked. She enjoyed having bitching sessions about Laura even though she had never met her. She loved to hear stories about her from Daniel and then the two of them would spend the night talking about how much they hated her. It passed the time, and right now Holly really needed something to avoid having to talk to Helen.

Daniel's eyes lit up. "Yes, actually I do have a bit of gossip about her," he laughed.

"Oooh good, I love a bit of gossip," Holly said, rubbing her hands together with delight.

"Well, a friend of mine named Charlie who works as a barman in Laura's dad's hotel told me that her boyfriend tried to come on to some other woman who was a guest in the hotel and Laura caught him, so they split up." He laughed evilly and had a twinkle in his eye. He was delighted to hear of her heartbreak.

Holly froze because that story sounded rather familiar. "Eh . . . Daniel, what hotel does her father own?"

"Oh, the Galway Inn. It's a real kip of a place but it's in a nice area, across the road from the beach."

"Oh." Holly didn't know what to say and her eyes widened.

"I know," Daniel laughed. "It's brilliant, isn't it? I can tell you, if I ever met the woman who split them up I would buy her the most expensive bottle of champagne I could find."

Holly smiled weakly, "Would you now . . ." He better start saving his money then . . . Holly stared at Daniel's face curiously, interested to know why on earth Daniel had once been interested in Laura. Holly would have bet all her money against those two ever being together; she didn't seem his type, whatever his "type" was.

Daniel was so easygoing and friendly and Laura was . . . well, Laura was a bitch. Holly couldn't think of any other word to describe her.

"Em, Daniel?" Holly nervously tucked her hair behind her ears, preparing herself to question him on his choice of women.

He smiled at her, eyes still twinkling from the news of his ex-girlfriend and ex–best friend's breakup. "Yes, Holly."

"Well, I was just wondering. Laura seems to sound like a bit of a . . . em . . . a . . . bitch, to be honest." She bit her lip and studied his face to see if she had insulted him. His face was blank as he stared at the candlesticks in the center of the table and listened. "Well," she continued, feeling as though she had to tiptoe carefully around this subject, knowing how badly Laura had broken Daniel's heart. "Well, my question is really, what ever did you see in her? How could you two ever have been in love? You're both so different, well, at least you sound like you're so different." She backpedaled fast, remembering she wasn't supposed to have ever met Laura.

Daniel was silent for a moment and Holly feared she had stepped into the wrong territory.

He dragged his eyes away from the flame dancing around on the candlestick to face Holly. His lips broke into a sad smile. "Laura isn't really a bitch, Holly. Well, for leaving me for my best friend she is . . . but as a person, when we were together, she was never a bitch. Dramatic, yes. A bitch, no." He smiled and turned his body around to face Holly properly. "You see, I loved the drama of our relationship. I found it exciting; she enthralled me." His face became animated as he explained their relationship and his speech quickened with the excitement of the memory of his lost love. "I loved waking up in the morning and wondering what kind of mood she would be in that day, I loved our fights, I loved the passion of them and I loved how we would make love after them." His eyes danced. "She would make a song and dance about most things, but I suppose that's what I found different and attractive about her. I used to always tell myself that as long as she kept making a song and dance about our own relationship, then I knew she cared. If she hadn't, then it wouldn't have been worth it really. I loved the drama," he repeated, believing himself even more this time. "Our temperaments contrasted, but we made a good team; you know what they say about opposites attracting . . ." He looked into the face of his new friend and saw her concern. "She didn't treat me badly, Holly, she wasn't a bitch in that way . . ." He smiled more to himself. "She was just . . ."

"Dramatic," Holly finished for him, finally understanding. He nodded.

Holly watched his face as he got lost in another memory. She supposed it was possible for anybody to love anybody. That was the great thing about love; it came in all different shapes, sizes and temperaments.

"You miss her," Holly said gently, putting her hand on his arm.

Daniel snapped out of his daydream and stared deeply into Holly's eyes. A shiver went down her spine and she felt the hairs on her arms stand up. He snorted loudly and twisted back around in his chair, "Wrong again, Holly Kennedy." He nodded his head and frowned, as though she had said the most bizarre thing ever.

"Completely and utterly wrong." He picked up his knife and fork and began to eat his salmon starter. Holly gulped back some cool water and turned her attention to the plate that was being set before her.

After dinner and a few bottles of wine Helen stumbled over to Holly, who had escaped over to Sharon and Denise's side of the table. She gave her a big hug and tearily apologized for not keeping in touch.

"That's OK, Helen. Sharon, Denise and John have been very supportive friends, so I wasn't alone."

"Oh, but I feel so awful," Helen slurred.

"Don't," Holly said, anxious to continue her enjoyable conversation with the girls.

But Helen insisted on talking about the good old times when Gerry was alive and when everything was rosy.

She talked about all the times that she and Gerry had shared together, which were memories that Holly wasn't particularly interested in. Eventually Holly had enough of Helen's tearful whinging and realized that all her friends were up having fun on the dance floor.

"Helen, please stop," Holly finally interrupted. "I don't know why you feel you have to discuss this with me tonight when I am trying to enjoy myself, but you obviously feel guilty for not keeping in touch with me. To be honest, I think that if I hadn't come to this ball tonight I still wouldn't have heard from you for another ten months and more. And that's not the kind of friend I need in my life. So please stop crying on my shoulder and let me enjoy myself."

Holly felt that she had phrased it reasonably, but Helen looked like she had been slapped in the face. A small dose of what Holly had felt for the past year. Daniel appeared out of nowhere, took Holly by the hand and led her to the dance floor to join all her friends. As soon as they reached the dance floor the song ended and Eric Clapton's "Wonderful Tonight" began. The dance floor began to empty out bar a few couples and Holly was left facing Daniel. She gulped. She hadn't planned on this. She had only ever danced with Gerry to this song.

Daniel placed his hand lightly on her waist and gently took her hand and they began to circle around. Holly was stiff. Dancing with another man felt wrong. A tingle went down her spine and she shuddered. Daniel must have thought she was cold and he pulled her closer to keep her warm. She was led around the floor in a trance until the song ended and she made the excuse of having to go to the toilet. She locked herself in the cubicle and leaned against the door taking deep breaths. She had been doing so well up until now. Even with everyone asking her about Gerry she had remained calm. But the dance had shaken her. Perhaps it was time to go home while the going was good. She was about to unlock the door when she heard a voice outside say her name. She froze and listened to the women chatting outside.

"Did you see Holly Kennedy dancing with that man tonight?" a voice asked. The unmistakable whine of Jennifer.

"I know!" another voice spoke with a tone of disgust. "And her husband not yet cold in his grave!"

"Ah leave her alone," another woman said lightheartedly, "they could just be friends."

Thank you, Holly thought.

"But I doubt it," she continued and the women giggled.

"Did you see the way they were wrapped around each other? I don't dance with any of my friends like that,"

Jennifer said.

"That's disgraceful," another woman said. "Imagine flaunting your new man in a place you used to come to with your husband in front of all his friends. It's disgusting." The women tutted and a toilet flushed in the cubicle beside Holly. She stood frozen in her position, shocked by what she was hearing and embarrassed they were saying it where others could hear.

The toilet door opened beside her and the women were silenced. "Would you bickering old bitches ever go and get yourselves lives?" Sharon's voice yelled. "It is absolutely no business of yours what my best friend does or does not do! Jennifer, if your life was so bloody perfect then what are you doing sneaking around with Pauline's husband?"

Holly heard someone gasp. It was probably Pauline.

Holly covered her mouth to stop herself from laughing.

"Right, so keep your noses in your own business and piss off the lot of you!" Sharon yelled.

When Holly felt she had heard everyone leave she unlocked the door and stepped outside. Sharon looked up at her from the sink in shock.

"Thanks, Sharon."

"Oh Holly, I'm sorry you had to hear that," she said, giving her friend a hug.

"It doesn't matter, I couldn't give a crap what they think," Holly said bravely. "But I can't believe Jenny is having an affair with Pauline's husband!" Holly said, shocked.

Sharon shrugged, "She's not, but it'll give them something to bitch about for the next few months."

The girls giggled.

"I think I'll go home now, though," Holly said, glancing at her watch and thinking about the final message from Gerry. Her heart sank.

"Good idea," Sharon agreed. "I didn't realize how shite this ball was when you're sober."

Holly smiled.

"Anyway, you were great tonight, Holly. You came, you conquered, now go home and open Gerry's message.

Ring me and let me know what it says." She hugged her friend again.

"It's the last one," Holly said sadly.

"I know, so enjoy it," Sharon smiled. "But memories last a lifetime, remember that."

Holly made her way back to the table to say good-bye to everyone and Daniel stood up to leave with her.

"You're not leaving me here on my own," he laughed. "We can share a cab."

Holly was slightly irritated when Daniel hopped out of the taxi and followed her to her house, as she was looking forward to opening the envelope from Gerry. It was a quarter to twelve, which gave her fifteen minutes. She hoped he would drink his tea and be gone by then. She even called another taxi to arrive at her house in half an hour, just to let him know he couldn't stay too long.

"Ah, so this is the famous envelope," Daniel said, picking the tiny envelope up from the table.

Holly's eyes widened; she felt protective over that envelope, and she wasn't happy with him touching it, removing Gerry's trace from it.

"December," he said, reading the outside and running his fingers along the lettering. Holly wanted to tell him to put it down but didn't want to sound psychotic. Eventually he placed it back on the table and she breathed a sigh of relief and continued to fill the kettle with water.

"How many more envelopes are left?" Daniel asked, taking his overcoat off and walking over to join her at the kitchen counter.

"That's the last one." Holly's voice was husky and she cleared her throat.

"So what are you going to do after that?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, feeling confused.

"Well, as far as I can see, that list is like your bible, your ten commandments. What the list says goes, as far as your life is concerned. So what will you do when there aren't any more?"

Holly looked up at his face to see if he was being smart, but his blue eyes twinkled back at her.

"I'll just live my life," she replied, turning her back and flicking the switch on the kettle.

"Will you be able to do that?" he walked closer to her and she could smell his aftershave. It was a real Daniel smell.

"I suppose so," she replied, confused and uncomfortable by his questions.

"Because you will have to make your own decisions then," he said softly.

"I know that," she said defensively, avoiding eye contact with him.

"And do you think you'll be able to do that?"

Holly rubbed her face tiredly. "Daniel, what's this about?"

He swallowed hard and adjusted his stance before her, trying to make himself comfortable. "I'm asking you this because I'm going to say something to you now, and you are going to have to make your own decision."

He looked her straight in the eye and her heart beat wildly. "There will be no list, no guidelines; you will just have to follow your own heart."

Holly backed away from him a little. A feeling of dread pulled at her heart and she hoped he wasn't going to say what she thought he was about to say.

"Em . . . Daniel . . . I d-don't think that this is . . . the right time to . . . um . . . we shouldn't talk about . . ."

"This is a perfect time," he said seriously. "You already know what I'm going to say to you, Holly, and I know you already know how I feel about you."

Holly's mouth dropped open and she glanced at the clock.

It was twelve o'clock.