"You know?" he asked, surprised.

She nodded. "You have a huge talent, and I'm going to pay you every single penny you deserve as soon as I find a job."

Her brother's face relaxed into a shy smile.

They got into their cars and drove back to Portmarnock to the house they'd grown up in.

Two days later Holly looked at herself in the toilet mirror of the office building where her first job interview was taking place. She had lost so much weight since she had last worn her old suits that she had had to go out and purchase a new one. It was flattering to her new slim figure. The jacket was long and went to just above her knees, and it was fastened tightly by one b.u.t.ton at the waist. The trousers were just the right fit and fell perfectly over her boots. The outfit was black with light pink lines going through and she matched it with a light pink top underneath. She felt like a hotshot advertising businesswoman in control of her life, and all she needed to do now was to sound like one. She applied another layer of pink lip gloss and ran her fingers through her loose curls, which she had decided to allow to tumble down her shoulders. She took a deep breath and headed back out to the waiting area.

She took her seat again and glanced down at all the other applicants for the job. They seemed far younger than Holly and they all seemed to have a thick folder of some kind sitting on their laps. She looked around and started to panic...sure enough everybody had one of these folders. She stood up from her seat again and headed over to the secretary.

"Excuse me," Holly said, trying to get her attention.

The woman looked up and smiled, "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I was just in the toilet there and I think I must have missed being given a folder." Holly smiled politely at her.

The woman frowned and looked confused. "I'm sorry, what folders were handed out?"

Holly turned around and pointed to the folders sitting on the other applicants' laps and turned to face the secretary with a smile on her face.

The lady smiled and motioned her to come closer with her finger.

Holly tucked her hair behind her ears and moved nearer. "Yes?"

"Sorry honey, but they're actually portfolios that they brought themselves," she whispered to her so that Holly wouldn't be embarra.s.sed.

Holly's face froze. "Oh. Should I have brought one of them with me?"

"Well, do you have one?" the lady asked with a friendly smile.

Holly shook her head.

"Well then, don't worry about it. It's not a requirement, people just bring these things to show off," she whispered to her and Holly giggled.

Holly returned to her seat and continued to worry about this portfolio business. n.o.body had said anything to her about any stupid portfolios. Why was she the last to know everything? She tapped her foot and looked around the office while she waited. She got a good feeling from the place, the colors were warm and cozy and the light poured in from the large Georgian windows. The ceilings were high and there was a lovely feeling of s.p.a.ce. Holly could sit there all day thinking. She suddenly felt so relaxed that her heart didn't even jump as her name was called. She walked confidently down toward the door of the interview office and the secretary winked at her to wish her good luck. Holly smiled back at her; for some reason she already felt part of the team. She paused just outside the door of the office and took a deep breath.

Shoot for the moon, she whispered to herself, shoot for the moon.

THIRTY-FOUR.

HOLLY KNOCKED LIGHTLY ON THE door and a deep gruff voice told her to enter. Her heart did a little flip at the sound of his voice, feeling as if she had been summoned to the princ.i.p.al's office at school. She wiped her clammy hands on her suit and entered the room.

"h.e.l.lo," she said more confidently than she felt. She walked across the small room and held out her hand to the man who had stood up from his chair and was extending his hand to her. He greeted her with a big smile and a warm handshake. The face didn't seem to match the grumpy voice at all, thankfully. Holly relaxed a little at the sight of him, he reminded her of her father. He looked to be in his late fifties with a big cuddly bear physique, and she had to stop herself from leaping over the desk to hug him. His hair was neat and almost a sparkling silver color and she imagined he had been an extremely handsome man in his youth.

"Holly Kennedy, isn't it?" he said, taking his seat and glancing down at her CV in front of him. She sat down in the seat opposite him and forced herself to relax. She had read every interview technique manual she could get her hands on over the past few days and had tried to put it all into practice, from walking into the room to the proper handshake to the way she positioned herself in her chair. She wanted to look like she was experienced, intelligent and highly confident. But she would need more than a firm handshake to succeed in proving that.

"That's right," she said, placing her handbag on the ground beside her and resting her sweaty hands on her lap.

He put his gla.s.ses on the end of his nose and flicked through her CV in silence. Holly stared at him intently and tried to read his facial expressions. It wasn't an easy task, as he was one of those people who had a constant frown on his face while he read. Well, it was either that or he wasn't at all impressed by what he was seeing. She glanced around at his desk and waited for him to start speaking again. Her eyes fell upon a silver photo frame with three pretty girls close to her age all smiling happily at the camera. She continued to stare at it with a smile on her face, and when she looked up she realized he had put the CV down and was watching her. She smiled and tried to appear more businesslike.

"Before we start talking about you, I'll explain exactly who I am and what the job entails," he explained.

Holly nodded along with him, intending to look very interested.

"My name is Chris Feeney and I'm the founder and editor of the magazine, or the boss man as everyone likes to call me around here," he chuckled, and Holly was charmed by his twinkling blue eyes.

"Basically we are looking for someone to deal with the advertising aspect of the magazine. As you know, the running of a magazine or any media organization is hugely reliant on the advertising we receive. We need the money for our magazine to be published, so this job is extremely important. Unfortunately, our last man had to leave us in a hurry, so I'm looking for somebody who could begin work almost immediately. How would you feel about that?"

Holly nodded. "That would be no problem at all, in fact I'm eager to begin work as soon as possible."

Mr. Feeney nodded and looked down at her CV again. "I see you've been out of the workforce for over a year now, am I correct in saying that?" He lowered his head and stared at her over the rim of his gla.s.ses.

"Yes that's right," Holly nodded. "And I can a.s.sure you that was purely out of choice. Unfortunately my husband was ill, and I had to take time off work to be with him."

She swallowed hard; she knew that this would be an issue for every employer. n.o.body wanted to employ someone who had been idle for the past year.

"I see," he said, looking up at her. "Well, I hope that he's fully recovered now," he said, smiling warmly.

Holly wasn't sure whether that was a question or not and wasn't sure whether to keep talking. Did he want to hear about her personal life? He continued to look at her and she realized he was waiting for an answer.

She cleared her throat. "Well no, actually, Mr. Feeney, unfortunately he pa.s.sed away in February...he had a brain tumor. That's why I felt it was important to leave my job."

"Gosh." Mr. Feeney put down the CV and took his gla.s.ses off. "Of course I can understand that. I'm very sorry to hear that," he said sincerely. "It must be hard for you being so young and all..." He looked down at his desk for a while and then met her eyes again. "My wife lost her life to breast cancer just last year, so I understand how you may be feeling," he said generously.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Holly said sadly, looking at the kind man across the table.

"They say it gets easier," he smiled.

"So they say," Holly said grimly. "Apparently gallons of tea does the trick."

He started to laugh, a big guffaw of a laugh. "Yes! I've been told that one too, and my daughters inform me that fresh air is also a healer."

Holly laughed. "Ah yes, the magic fresh air; it does wonders for the heart. Are they your daughters?" She smiled, looking at the photograph.

"Indeed they are," he said, smiling also. "My three little doctors who try to keep me alive," he laughed. "Unfortunately the garden no longer looks like that anymore, though," he said, referring to the photograph.

"Wow, is that your garden?" Holly said, wide-eyed. "It's beautiful; I presumed it was the Botanic Gardens or somewhere like that."

"That was Maureen's specialty. You can't get me out of the office long enough to sort through that mess."

"Oh, don't talk to me about gardens," Holly said, rolling her eyes, "I'm not exactly Ms. Greenfingers myself, and the place is beginning to look like a jungle." Well, it did look like a jungle, she thought to herself.

They continued to look at each other and smile, and Holly was comforted to hear a similar story from someone else in her position. Whether she got the job or not, at least she was comforted that she was not entirely alone.

"Anyway, getting back to the interview," Mr. Feeney said. "Have you any experience in working with the media at all?"

Holly didn't like the way he said 'at all'; it meant that he had read through her CV and couldn't see any sign of experience for the job.

"Yes I have, actually." She returned to business mode and tried hard to impress him. "I once worked in an estate agents and I was responsible for dealing with the media regarding advertising the new properties that were for sale. So I was on the other end of what this job requires and so I know how to deal with companies who are wishing to buy s.p.a.ce."

Mr. Feeney nodded along. "But you have never actually worked on a magazine or newspaper or anything like that?"

Holly nodded her head slowly and racked her brains for something to say. "But I was responsible for printing up a weekly newsletter for a company I worked for..." She rambled on and on, grasping at every little straw she could, and realized she was sounding rather pathetic.

Mr. Feeney was too polite to interrupt her as she went through every job she'd ever worked at and exaggerated anything that was in any way related to advertising or media. Eventually she stopped talking as she grew bored at the sound of her own voice, and she twisted her fingers around each other nervously on her lap. She was underqualified for this job and she knew it, but she also knew that she could do it if he would just give her the chance.

Mr. Feeney took off his gla.s.ses. "I see. Well Holly, I can see that you have a great deal of experience in the workplace in various different areas, but I notice that you haven't stayed in any of your jobs for a period longer than of nine months..."

"I was searching for the right job for me," Holly said, her confidence now totally shattered.

"So how do I know you won't desert me after a few months?" He smiled but she knew he was serious.

"Because this is the right job for me," she said seriously. Holly took a deep breath as she felt her chances slipping away from her, and she wasn't prepared to give up that easily. "Mr. Feeney," she said, moving forward to sit on the edge of her chair. "I'm a very hard worker. When I love something I give it one hundred percent, as I'm extremely committed. I'm a very capable person and what I don't know now I am more than willing to learn so that I can do my best for myself, for you and for the company. If you put your trust in me, I promise I won't let you down." She stopped herself just short of getting down on her knees and begging for the d.a.m.n job. Her face blushed as she realized what she had just done.

"Well then, I think that's a good note to finish on," Mr. Feeney said, smiling at her. He stood up from his chair and held his hand out. "Thank you very much for taking the time to come down here. I'm sure we'll be in touch."

Holly shook his hand and thanked him quietly, picked her bag up from the ground and felt his eyes burning into her back as she headed toward the door. Just before she stepped outside the door she turned back to face him. "Mr. Feeney, I'll make sure your secretary brings you in a nice hot pot of tea. It'll do you the world of good." She smiled and closed the door to the sound of his loud laughter. The friendly secretary raised her eyebrows at Holly as she pa.s.sed her desk, and the rest of the applicants held on to their portfolios tightly and wondered what the lady had said to make the interviewer laugh so loudly. Holly smiled to herself as she continued to hear Mr. Feeney laughing and made her way out into the fresh air.

Holly decided to drop in on Ciara at work, where she could have a bite to eat. She rounded the corner and entered Hogan's pub and searched for a table inside. The pub was packed with people dressed smartly on their lunch breaks from work, and some were even having a few sneaky pints before heading back to the office. Holly found a small table in the corner and settled down.

"Excuse me," she called out loudly and clicked her fingers in the air, "can I get some service here please?"

The people at the tables around her threw her looks for being so rude to the staff and Holly continued to click her fingers in the air. "Oi!" she yelled.

Ciara swirled around with a scowl on her face but it broke into a smile when she spotted her sister grinning at her. "Jesus, I was about to smack the head off you," she laughed, approaching the table.

"I hope you don't speak to all your customers like that," Holly teased.

"Not all of them," Ciara replied seriously. "You having lunch here today?"

Holly nodded. "Mum told me you were working lunches, I thought you were supposed to be working in the club upstairs?"

Ciara rolled her eyes. "That man has got me working all the hours under the sun, he's treating me like a slave," Ciara moaned.

"Did I hear someone mention my name?" Daniel laughed, walking up behind her.

Ciara's face froze as she realized he had overheard her. "No, no...I was just talking about Mathew," she stammered. "He has me up all hours of the night, I'm like his s.e.x slave..." She trailed off and wandered over to the bar to get a notepad and pen.

"Sorry I asked," Daniel said, staring at Ciara bewildered. "Mind if I join you?" he asked Holly.

"Yes," Holly teased, but pulled out a stool for him. "OK, what's good to eat here?" she asked, looking through the menu as Ciara returned with pen in hand.

Ciara mouthed 'Nothing' behind Daniel's back and Holly giggled.

"The toasted special is my favorite," Daniel suggested, and Ciara shook her head wildly at Holly. Ciara obviously didn't think much of the toasted special.

"What are you shaking your head at?" Daniel said to her, catching her in the act again.

"Oh, it's just that...Holly is allergic to onions," Ciara stammered again. This was news to Holly.

Holly nodded her head. "Yes...they, eh...make my head...eh...bloat." She blew her cheeks out. "Terrible things are those onions. Fatal in fact. Could kill me someday." Ciara rolled her eyes at her sister, who once again managed to take things way over the top.

"OK, well then, leave the onions out," Daniel suggested and Holly agreed.

Ciara stuck her fingers in her mouth and pretended to gag as she walked away.

"You're looking very smart today," Daniel said, studying her outfit.

"Yes, well, that was the impression I was trying to give. I was just at a job interview," Holly said and winced at the thought of it.

"Oh yeah, that's right," Daniel smiled, then he made a face. "Didn't it go well?"

Holly shook her head. "Well, let's just say I need to buy a smarter-looking suit. I won't be expecting a call from them anytime soon."

"Oh well, not to worry," Daniel said, smiling. "There will be plenty of other opportunities. Still have that job upstairs if you're interested."

"I thought you gave that job to Ciara. Why is she working downstairs now?" Holly said, looking confused.

Daniel made a face. "Holly, you know your sister; we had a bit of a situation."

"Oh no!" Holly laughed. "What did she do this time?"

"Some guy at the bar said something to her she didn't quite like so she poured him his pint then served it to him over his head."

"Oh no!" Holly gasped. "I'm surprised you didn't fire her!"

"Couldn't do that to a member of the Kennedy family, could I?" he smiled. "And besides, how would I ever be able to face you again?"

"Exactly." Holly smiled, "You may be my friend, but you 'gotta respect the family&rsquo."

Ciara frowned at her sister as she arrived with her plate of food. "Well, that has to be the worst G.o.dfather impression I've ever heard. Bon appet.i.t," she said sarcastically, slamming the plate down on the table and turning on her heel.

"Hey!" Daniel frowned, taking Holly's plate away from her and examining her sandwich.

"What are you doing?" she demanded to know.

"There are onions in it," he said angrily. "Ciara must have given the wrong order again."

"No no, she didn't." Holly jumped to her sister's rescue and grabbed the plate back from his hands. "I'm only allergic to red onions," she blurted out.

Daniel frowned. "How odd. I didn't think there was a huge difference."