Page 101 of Postscript

‘Hold on a minute,’ Mathew interrupts Ciara’s celebration. ‘You were dead against this at the start of the year, why are you now all, “Yes”’ He imitates her high-pitched tone.

‘Because,’ she says, widening her eyes at everyone as if I can’t see or hear her, ‘because nobody wanted her to do it last time and she did it anyway, and had a psychological crisis, so let’s support her.’

‘Ah, come on, so you don’t think it’s a good idea?’ I ask.

‘It’s wonderful,’ Mum says.

‘Good for you!’ Dad says, mouth filled with potato.

‘I’d like to volunteer,’ Ava says suddenly, and Gabriel looks at her in surprise. ‘Well, you said I needed a job. This sounds cool.’

‘But I can’t pay you, sweetie,’ I say sadly, so honoured she’d offer.

‘You can pay her if you get funds,’ Richard says. ‘If you register the PS, I Love You Club as a foundation or charity, then you can fundraise for the resources you need. You should also gather a team, for example, an accountant, a business adviser to help with the paperwork and legal obligations. Everybody would have to give their time on a voluntary basis.’

‘Really? You really think I should?’ I look around the table at them all.

‘I could do the bookkeeping for you,’ Richard offers. Before he began his landscaping business, he was an accountant.

‘I would love to help with fundraising,’ Abbey says.

‘I say a raise of hands for yes,’ Ciara declares.

They all raise their hands. All apart from Gabriel.

‘It’s a big undertaking,’ he says.

‘She can do it, Dad,’ Ava says, nudging him.

‘Yeah, Dad,’ Jack says, imitating Ava.

‘Yeah, Dad,’ the rest of them say in unison, and crack up laughing.

As the conversation turns into the usual noisy brawl, Gabriel wraps his arm around my shoulder and leans close. ‘I know you can,’ he whispers, and kisses me gently.

Excitement builds inside me. All this time I was thinking of it as a club, but it could be more. With enough support, we could help more people. I could dedicate more time to the people who need me to properly observe their life and help construct and distribute their letters. The PS, I Love You Club could become a nationwide foundation or a charity, helping those who are terminally ill finally reclaim their goodbyes. And all because of Gerry.

My phone rings; I don’t recognise the number. ‘Hello?’

‘Hi, is that Holly Kennedy?’ a young male voice asks.

‘Yes. This is Holly.’

‘Uh, I got your number from, er, Maria. Maria Costas? She told me about your club.’

‘Yes, this is the PS, I Love You Club,’ I say, standing up to leave as everyone hushes around the table.

‘Ssh,’ Jack starts, childishly, to Declan.

‘Ssh,’ Declan replies.

‘Ssh,’ Mathew continues it, nudging Ciara, who’s not saying anything at all.

I press a finger into my ear and leave the room.

When I end the call, I see Gabriel standing at the door, watching me.

‘I have a client,’ I say happily, then wipe the smile off my face, uncertain that my happiness is fair to Philip’s predicament. ‘But don’t say anything, you know what they’re like.’