Snippet #830121

Holiday homes had always been easy to find in that little town. Holly hadn't been overly attracted to the idea of staying on friends sofas, even though she knew she could have, so she rented a little cottage away from the sea. To have been able to sea it through her window would have been too much, but the fact she could smell the clean salty air as a light breeze floated in through her open window in the morning...it was a sweet subtle reminder of days gone by. Thinking that made her feel old. She rolled over in the double bed of the main bedroom. Her bedroom for the foreseeable future. It was strange to have so much room all to herself. She was used to waking up squashed into one corner of the bed by her great hulking fiancé Matt. Matt. She really ought to let him know where she was some time soon. After a week away from him, she was feeling liberated, he would be feeling as though she were getting cold feet about the wedding. He didn't know her feet had taken a trip to the North Pole since before he'd even asked her.
Holly got up and padded bare footed across the pale laminate floor towards the bathroom. Her blonde hair was behind her in a waved mass. As she pulled a brush through it she caught a glimpse of her old self. Holly. White sundress. Well, nightgown now, but it looked about the same. That necklace. That necklace. She took it in the palm of her hand and read it aloud. "Love is Love, True is True, All my love, Belongs to you." Eric's words still rang softly, but distantly, in her memory. When Matt had asked her where she got the necklace, she'd lied, as she did to him practically every day, saying it was from a yard sale somewhere once or something. It was flippant and non-commital, but it had to be. She couldn't have ever let him know how she felt. As her mother had told her in the first few months after the move, she couldn't keep brooding over the past. It had, afterall, passed.
Back in her bedroom Holly tied her hair into it's uniform bun and pushed a pen and pencil into it; for safe keeping. She leafed through the outfits in her wardrobe. It contained a mish-mash of things which she'd thrown into her overnight bag quickly before driving home and things she's picked up at the stores around the town. Home. That's what it felt like. A wash of relief through the car, carrying away the tense, stressed, feigned atmosphere she had felt for over two years. Home. It was the most strong and gentle relief she had ever felt.
She chose a red sundress. Red had never been a colour she considered, until Matt had bought her a red dress to wear to his father's house. It hadn't been a perticularly flattering dress, but the colour...
Dressed Holly took to the kitchen. From the fridge she took a box of grapes and sandwhiches which she had prepared the night earlier for a quick getaway. She took a banana from the microwave. She'd read somewhere that keeping them in the microwave made them last long. As she was about to leave the kitchen she snatched her notebook from the kitchen table, which had been appointed as her desk, and took off for the front door. After locking it, unlocking it and locking it again to be sure, she wandered through the small empty morning streets to reach the harbour and as she had for the last six days she took the path to the outermost docking platform and parked herself on the stone bench which was set into the wall and she watched the waves rippling across the surface of the ocean. Internally she pleaded that Eddy, that idotic moron she never had enough chance to get to know, would break through the waves and swim back to the dock. She knew that it would never happen. She knew the chances of them finding him alive after the wreckage of his boat turned up, were slim to none, but her hope would never desert her. It never could.