The Things That Stay

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

In which Holly encounters a

human thesaurus and a new friend.

 

     With her overnight bag fitted neatly into the trunk of the Volkswagen and her shift at Lou’s completed by 10:30 in the morning, Holly was ready and on the road to Leeds. She had been careful to avoid Sahdri both yesterday and that morning, for her roommate would surely be bursting with questions about Holly’s late arrival, her subsequent hangover as well as her rush to leave that morning. These were all questions that Holly had no desire to answer, at least at the moment, because that would involve mentioning Simon. –My new hitchhiker, she thought with exasperation.

If Holly had been in a mess before, she was now in a veritable clusterfuck with an immature, terminally ill prat attached to her hip. But she couldn’t have said no: he had been so incredibly eager when she called him the day before to at last consent to his companionship that she hadn’t the heart to decline him. So, they were to split the gas money as well as the cost of the inn, despite the fact that she had booked a room with only one bed. This was cheaper, after all, and since Holly was a generous person, she had decided that she was to sleep on the couch and allow her ailing tag-a-long the comfort of the bed.

While the inn might have been a hindrance, Holly preferred to arrive at faraway sit-in’s the night before to keep from being late and in case there was an emergency with a client that required her services sooner. She only did this for appointments that were more than an hour away, and while she knew that this early arrival wasn’t wholly necessary, she was adamant to follow through with it, for Holly had secretly hoped the overnight element of the trip would deter Simon’s enthusiasm and prevent his accompaniment. It was all for naught, however.

“So tell me, Simon: exactly how much wheedling and lying did it take to convince Purefoy?” Holly had asked upon yesterday’s telephone call. 

“You make me sound like some sort of bullshit artist—I’m offended!”

“Because that is exactly what you are sometimes.”

Simon had laughed. “I thought you were only rude when you’re drunk, Holly. And in answer to your inquiry, he was very dubious and said no the first four times I asked. He was cross with me for running off the other night, but he fell for the ‘lost’ story hook, line and sinker, as well as my pity routine. You know, it works on everyone but you. Anyway, manifold rejections aside, it eventually went well. Miss Abby vouched for me, and Purefoy said that so long as he could talk to you in person and tell you what to do if my lungs suddenly collapse, we’re free and clear.”

Now, as Holly turned off the highway and drove into the city of Prestwich, she was fiercely regretting her decision to let him come along. What were you thinking? Inviting him to come—that wine made a fool of you, Holly! You’ll lose your job for this, and that’s what you will deserve. And what if he finds out about Paul? She shook her head in frustration: stupid, stupid, stupid girl! –And that bloody Simon was just as much to blame. He truly was a master of gab: talking the drunken idiot she was into such a ridiculous proposition.

“That’s what you get, Holly,” she told herself. “That’s what you get for being too nice. Perhaps if you’re rude enough to him, he’ll leave you alone.”

Still, she knew this plan wouldn’t work, for Simon had proven himself to be such a dogged bastard! In fact, she wouldn’t even be surprised if the whole jail fiasco had been part of his scheme, though she had her doubts. After all, Simon was too pristine a boy to get himself beat up like that on his own accord: he probably got mugged and made up that vigilante story to improve his own image.