Holly smooths her nurse’s uniform, exhaustion tugging at her bones as her hospital shift ends. The death of an elderly patient lingers in her heart, casting a shadow of sorrow. The patient’s daughter, eyes red with grief, clasps Holly’s hand. “Thank you, Nurse. You’ve done so much for my father. We’re grateful.”
Holly, swallowing tears, offers a gentle hug. “I’m so sorry for your loss. Take care.” Her compassionate nature, a lifelong trait, makes detachment impossible despite the professional warnings.
Janet, a gossipy middle-aged nurse from the local estate, sidles up, her ADHD-fueled chatter relentless. “Holly, all this overtime lately—what’s the reason? Everything alright at home? Is that boyfriend of yours treating you well?”
Holly forces a smile. “Just saving up, Janet.” She bites back the urge to scream, A man just died, leave me alone.
Janet presses closer, oblivious to boundaries, fishing for secrets. She thrives on hospital gossip, spilling everyone’s business the moment they turn their back. Holly, wary of her loose tongue, keeps her thoughts guarded.
She’s been working overtime for Johnny, her musician boyfriend, to buy him a special gift. Tomorrow, she’ll surprise him with the bigger news of their baby. The thought of his joy warms her.
Eager to escape Janet’s prattle, Holly strides toward the hospital exit, the crisp evening air a relief against her clammy skin. Antiseptic clings to her, a reminder of the day’s weight. The patient’s daughter’s words echo, bittersweet, as she heads to the tube station.
Thirty minutes later, she steps off at Tottenham Court Road. A brass band plays Silent Night, and festive lights twinkle along Denmark Street. Holly pushes open the door to Crazy Larry’s Guitar Shop, Christmas carols humming through the speakers. Her eyes land on a Gretsch guitar—perfect for Johnny, but its price tag stings. It’ll drain her savings.
The shopkeeper, sensing a sale, sidles up. “That Gretsch is a beauty. Worth every penny. For someone special, or do you play?”
Blushing, Holly replies, “For my boyfriend. He’s a musician. He’d love this.”
“It’s Christmas,” the shopkeeper says, eyes glinting. “Pay cash, and I’ll knock off ten per cent. Throw in a case and leads, too.”
Holly hesitates, then nods. “Alright, it’s Christmas.” She counts out £2,500 in pink fifties, her savings vanishing. The shopkeeper, grinning at his profit, hands over the guitar. “It’ll make someone happy,” he says, escorting her out with a theatrical smile.
Outside, the night bites with icy wind. Holly pulls her scarf tight, shielding the guitar case as hail pelts the bus stop. She’s eager to get home and share the baby news with Johnny. In the distance, she spots him striding down the street. He’s out getting my present, she thinks, heart swelling. Two months pregnant, she’s buzzing despite their tight finances. Johnny’s a sensitive soul, prone to mood swings, but she loves him fiercely, working tirelessly to ease his struggles.
Then, car headlights flash. Johnny hops into a vehicle, and as it pulls away, Holly’s stomach twists. She spots Janet in the bus queue, smirking, and realises the driver is Rachel—her best friend. Confusion churns inside her.
On the bus, Holly avoids Janet, retreating to the back. She dials Johnny, then Rachel. No answer. At her stop, she rushes home, bounding up the stairs. A letter waits on the kitchen table beneath the Christmas tree. Two fifty-pound notes flutter out as she tears it open, her eyes racing over Johnny’s words.
Dear Holly,
Life can be brutal. I’ve been meaning to tell you for months. I’m used to rejection, but sometimes things happen for the best. I’m leaving with Rachel—we just clicked. We’re going abroad, and we won’t be back. Don’t think badly of us. You’re always working, and I’ve not been happy. With your caring nature, you’ll find someone else. Maybe work less—a man needs looking after. Think of the good times.
PS: Buy yourself something nice for Christmas.
Johnny xx
Her world spins. Johnny’s parents left him £4 million months ago—he never told them. Rachel, cunning and ruthless, latched onto his wealth, seducing him with promises of a glamorous life. They’re boarding a 747 to Los Angeles, sipping champagne, oblivious to the storm ahead.
“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” Rachel lies, stroking Johnny’s ego. He smirks, bored of Holly’s sensible ways, thrilled by Rachel’s allure.
Turbulence hits. The plane lurches, and the captain announces a return to London. Johnny shoves Rachel aside, screaming, “Will I be OK?” The plane skids onto Heathrow’s icy runway, exploding in a fiery crash. Twelve die, including Rachel. Johnny, barely alive, is rushed to surgery.
Doctors fight to save him. “It’s critical,” one says. Weeks in intensive care follow, marked by amputations and brain damage. At his bedside, Holly whispers, “You survived, Johnny, but at what cost?” Devastated by Rachel’s death, she takes no pleasure in the tragedy.
True to form, Janet spreads the story through the hospital. Humiliated, Holly quits her job. Six months later, she pushes Johnny’s wheelchair into their adapted home. His £4 million inheritance funds his lifelong care. Their newborn daughter, named Rachel after her lost friend, sleeps in her cot.
Holly hears Johnny grunting in the cellar, where his morphine-dosed haze leaves him staring blankly at the Gretsch on the wall, his arms gone at the elbows. She wipes his face roughly, twisting his nose. “I’ll always be here for you,” she says, her grim smile echoing his letter’s words.
Footsteps descend. The doctor, her new love, enters. They step outside, embracing passionately. “If the accident hadn’t happened, I’d never have met you,” Holly says, laughing. “And the airline’s paying millions in compensation. We’re set.”
Johnny, catching sight of them, gurgles in anguish. Holly shuts the door with her finger to her lips. “He’ll get over it.”
Janet appears in the hallway, smirking. “The door was open. Thought I’d pop in.”
Holly snaps. “Yes, I bloody mind, Janet. Your spiteful gossip cost me my job. Get out before I call the police.”
Janet, stunned, waddles out, fuming, ready to slander Holly further. Holly and the doctor, hand in hand, walk to the nursery, leaving Johnny’s cries behind.