Hopelessly Devoted to Holden Finn (2 page)

Dear Holden,

Do you believe in fate? I do, and I believe that although we have not met yet, and you don’t even know who I am, we are destined to meet…

No, too melodramatic and made her sound slightly unhinged. The only thing that letter would persuade Holden to do was double his security arrangements.

Dear Holden,

I know you don’t know me, but do you fancy a drink sometime? I wouldn’t tell a soul about it, obviously…

Too… well, just ridiculous. As if he was going to say yes no matter how much she promised not to tell.

Dear Holden,

My daughter is a huge fan. She’s had a really tough time lately, what with her dad abandoning us and everything, but meeting you would make her so happy…

It looked better, the favour being for Paige, and Paige would love it, but, in reality, what would he care about just another fatherless fifteen-year-old? The world was full of them. And it wasn’t really for Paige, was it? If anyone knew how ridiculous and juvenile her own obsession was, it was Bonnie. Even Paige, as much of a fan as she was, didn’t pine after meeting Holden Finn in the way that Bonnie did. But there was a part of her that couldn’t let it go. Perhaps, she and Jeanie, who had spent many of her prime years chasing after rockstars, weren’t that different after all. If nothing else, at least that thought gave Bonnie someone to blame. But she knew that her mum wouldn’t have developed an obsession this unhealthy, and even when she did get near to the object of her affections, she always went home to Bonnie’s dad satisfied with an autograph and a peck on the cheek. Bonnie pretended to herself that this was all she wanted, but deep down, she knew it wasn’t true.

Ok, so the letter was stupid, and being in love with a boy barely old enough to wipe his own nose was stupid, and writing actual letters to
anyone
these days was
stupid. Bonnie knew all this. But who could tell where it might lead? If she could get him to notice she existed it would be enough. It was all she wanted: just for someone to notice.

As she pulled out a tray of plums, Fred popped his head around the doorway of the vast, walk-in fridge.

‘Are you nearly done in here, lass?’

‘Yep, almost, Fred.’

‘So I can open the doors?’

‘You could have opened the doors anyway. I can’t imagine we’d have a huge queue outside waiting for greengages and even if we did, I’m sure they’d wait for a moment or two without rioting.’

Fred grunted a reply, but as he lumbered away rattling the shop keys Bonnie failed to catch what it was.

Linda came through from the outside yard wiping sweat from her round and very red face. ‘My God! You should see the size of those buggers! You know what they say about cockroaches being the only creatures to survive a nuclear attack? Well, I think those ones outside already did!’

Bonnie laughed. ‘Alright, Linda?’

‘I will be as soon as I sweep up all those bug bits and get a cup of tea.’

‘I’m not sure Fred will let you do that, he’s afraid that we’re going to be overrun by a horde of rampaging shoppers desperate for leeks as soon as we open.’

‘Not let me have a cup of tea? After the act of genocide I’ve just committed for him out back? I’ve seen enough tropical banana box stowaways to last me a lifetime. Let him try and stop me!’ Linda disappeared into the staff room, scraping her shoe clear of insect legs as she went.

***

Break time came and Bonnie sat on her own in the dark and dank staff room with a cup of tea and a blank flowery page in front of her. She’d been staring at it for ten minutes, and her break was only fifteen; she’d have to think of something to put in this damn letter. Lunch was always taken up with Linda, so there wouldn’t be time to do it then without attracting unwanted curiosity. She began to write…

Dear Holden,

This is going to sound like a ridiculous request, and I’m sure you get a thousand like it every day, but I’d love to meet you.

There, I’ve said it and that’s it. I have no special reasons, no terminal illness, I’m no pillar of the community or doer of great deeds or talented or famous or rich. I have nothing to offer you but my affection and a wish to tell you face to face how I feel about you and how much just seeing a photo of you lightens my otherwise gloomy life.

I know that I will never get a reply to this letter, and you’ll never even get to read it, but I’ve written it anyway.

Love, Bonnie Cartwright.

Bonnie read the letter through again and sighed deeply before screwing it up and putting it in the bin.

Just then, Linda came in wiping her hands down her tabard. ‘Ugh, just put my fingers straight through a rotten satsuma.’

Bonnie wrinkled her nose. ‘God, you can tell by the stink!’

Linda went to the tiny sink and washed her hands. ‘I know, they’re the foulest smelling things known to man. Prisoner of war – rotten orange under his nose and he’d tell you anything.’

Bonnie drank the last of her tea.

‘And Fred says you’re due back out, by the way,’ Linda added.

‘I’ll bet he does,’ Bonnie mumbled. ‘He must have a stopwatch surgically implanted in his brain, and if he doesn’t, I bet he’s after a Harley Street specialist to do it.’

Linda wiped her hands on a tatty towel. ‘Fred would never pay Harley Street prices. I’m sure he’d know some Del Boy down the pub who could smash a watch into his brain on the cheap.’

Laughing loudly, Bonnie pushed herself up from the chair and took her cup to the sink. ‘I’ll rinse this at lunch,’ she said, putting it down. ‘Right now I’d better get back out before he blows a gasket.’

‘I’ll do it for you,’ Linda said, flicking the kettle on.

‘Thanks, Linda; I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

‘You’d still be chasing cockroaches around the back yard for a start.’

Bonnie, still looking back and laughing, almost bumped into someone as she made her way out from the tiny kitchen into the warehouse, beyond which lay the main shop.

‘Oh God, Max, I didn’t see you there!’

‘I’m pretty hard to miss,’ Max grinned down at her. ‘All six-foot-two of me.’

‘That’s true,’ Bonnie smiled. ‘Please don’t tell me you’ve got more stock to bring in, I’ve lugged enough Spanish strawberries to last me a lifetime today. And I’m pretty sure we’re going to have to reduce the buggers by the end of today, which always makes His Royal Fredness in there as grumpy as hell.’

Max pushed a hand through his wind-tousled hair. His cheeks were a little ruddy from the autumn chill. Along with his golden hair, naughty smile, and lean height, his current flush made him look like an over-grown and mischievous schoolboy. ‘I’d hate to be the cause of that. You’ve no need to worry, though; I’ve just come to drop off an invoice.’ He leaned closer and dropped his voice. ‘Unless, of course, you’ve changed your mind about that drink?’

Bonnie laughed. ‘No I haven’t. I’m sure I couldn’t keep up with you.’

‘Probably not,’ he said, grinning and straightening up. ‘You are, like, a hundred years old.’

Bonnie slapped his arm. ‘That’s no way to persuade me either.’

Every week Max asked her and every week she gave the same reply. They always laughed it off. But today, Bonnie thought she caught something else in his expression, something sad. She shook the thought away. This was Max, the wise-cracking, whistling delivery driver. She didn’t think he would know sad if it slapped him in the face. Not like Bonnie, of course, she and sadness were best friends these days.

‘Linda’s on the hunt for a man,’ Bonnie said. ‘Her John is driving her mental and she’s looking for a younger model.’

Max laughed. ‘And I’m on the hunt for a woman. But much as I like Linda, there’s only one that I want.’

‘I bet you say that to all the girls.’

‘I do. Just ask in Cherry Ripe across town, they’ve all been subjected to the Delaney charm. It takes years of practise to come across this desperate.’

‘Max,’ she smiled up at him, ‘I’m sure there are girls queuing around the block for you.’

‘Queuing around the block to get away from me, more like.’

Bonnie’s reply was cut short by Fred’s sweaty face at the doorway. ‘Any chance of a hand out here?’

He disappeared again and Bonnie looked at Max, shrugging apologetically. ‘I’d better get back in. Anyone would think it was the first day of the Harrods sale in there. I bet he’s got old Mrs Simkin asking for the plums on top of the display that he can’t reach. He hates that, makes him feel all emasculated.’

Max chuckled. ‘In that case, I’ll just leave this on his desk and sneak out. I’m sure an invoice won’t improve his mood.’

‘Probably for the best,’ Bonnie said as she made her way back out to the shop. ‘See you later, Max.’

‘Yeah,’ Max replied as he watched her go. ‘See you later.’

***

Linda turned the closed sign on the shop door and locked it as Bonnie waited on the pavement. The day was cold and blustery but the late autumn sun on their backs was warm and comforting.

‘So…’ Linda asked as she and Bonnie made their way to the delicatessen down the street for lunch. ‘Did Max ask you out again?’

‘Not really.’ She looked across and caught Linda’s raised eyebrows. ‘Ok, sort of. It was a bit half-hearted though.’

‘It’s not going to be anything else if you keep saying no.’

‘I know, it just doesn’t seem like a good idea right now.’

‘You know Henri is not coming back, don’t you?’ Linda asked serenely.

Bonnie looked at her sharply. ‘I’m not stupid.’

‘I didn’t say that. What are you waiting for then?’

‘I have to say yes to the first man who asks me?’

‘When he’s that nice and asks that often, maybe you should at least think about it.’

‘He’s too young. And there’s Paige to consider too.’

‘He’s about six years younger than you, but I don’t see how that’s a problem. And Paige is going to hate whoever you bring home, because Paige hates everyone, so that’s no reason to stay single. You’re making excuses.’

Bonnie shrugged and looked away, unable to hold Linda’s questioning gaze.

‘Oh my God, there’s someone else you have your eye on, isn’t there?’ Linda squealed suddenly. ‘Who is it, come on, spill!’

‘There’s nobody else,’ Bonnie corrected hastily. ‘I’m just not ready for a man.’

Linda plunged her hands into her coat pockets and shot a wry glance at her friend. ‘Henri has been gone for two years. He wasn’t that much of a catch when he was here…’ Linda didn’t flinch under the sour look that Bonnie gave her. ‘I’m just saying…’

‘And you think our delivery driver is?’

‘He’s lovely. And he’s not just a delivery driver, is he? He owns the firm.’

‘That wasn’t what I was getting at. It doesn’t bother me how much money he earns.’

‘Clearly, as Henri was quite content to laze around and let you bring in all the money and you were happy to let him get away with it.’

‘He had… issues. Being French and all, it was hard for him to get a job. You know he didn’t get many clients for his language lessons either. And there was his depression too.’

‘Made everyone around him depressed, that’s for sure.’

‘Linda!’

‘It’s true. Bloody cock.’

They arrived at
The Bountiful Isle
delicatessen and sandwich shop, a place that was referred to locally simply as ‘The Bounty’. As they walked through the door they were greeted by a loud voice with a strong Greek accent.

‘Ladies! What will it be for the beautiful workers today?’

‘Hey, Stav,’ Linda said, looking down the board. ‘Flattery won’t get us spending any more money, you know.’

The deli owner pulled a face of mock affront. ‘Perish it! Every word from my mouth is truth.’

‘Yeah, right. So what’s going on with your nose then, Pinocchio?’ Linda replied.

Stavros laughed. ‘You are beautiful to me, fair Linda.’

‘How’s your Mama?’ Linda asked, ignoring the backhanded compliment.

Stavros pulled his face. ‘Getting uglier by the day.’

‘Poor woman,’ Bonnie giggled. ‘I hope Paige never talks like that about me.’

‘Come on,’ Linda turned to Bonnie, ‘what are we having?’

‘I’ll just have a cheese sandwich,’ Bonnie said, looking into her purse.

‘Right,’ Linda said to Stavros. ‘I’ll have a Cajun wrap special and Bonnie will have the same.’

‘But –’

‘It’s on me.’

‘Linda!’

‘Shut up and put your purse away. John got his annual bonus this week, so I’m flush. You’re the only thing that makes working in that bloody shop bearable so if I can’t treat you once in a while, it’s time to pack in.’

Bonnie was about to argue, then her face relaxed into a smile. ‘Thanks Linda. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

‘Yeah,’ Linda said giving her a wry sideways glance. ‘You keep saying that. Let’s hope you don’t have to find out.’ She looked up at Stavros, who was watching them with a grin on his face. ‘What are you standing around for, we only have half an hour, you know!’

Stavros erupted into a hearty laugh. ‘Oh, just like Mama! Marry me, Linda!’

***

Bonnie trudged up the path of her mother’s house. Her hand reached for the bell and stopped, mid-air, as a pounding bass erupted from within and the first strains of
Another One Bites the Dust
by Queen travelled out to her. Bonnie smiled to herself, imagining Paige’s face as Jeanie gyrated around the living room doing her best Freddie Mercury impression. Realising that the bell was as likely to be heard as a hamster with laryngitis, Bonnie hammered at the front door instead.

Moments later it was opened by a red-faced Paige.

‘Mum!’

Bonnie raised her eyebrows. Paige was sweating, her ponytail was coming loose, with half her hair hanging out at one side, and she was clearly out of breath.

‘If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d been moshing with your nana.’

‘Yeah, but she wanted to…’ Paige moved aside without another word and let her mum through into the hallway.

Jeanie appeared at the living room door. Freddie was still singing his heart out on the sound system in the living room and the light fitting in the hallway was vibrating
with the volume, dust dancing from the tops of the family portraits that lined the walls.