Holly sat and sulked at the bar. Alone: again. She sighed and wondered why she had turned down Patrick’s offer of a drink and was now one of those sad women pouring back the G&Ts as they try and recover from some bloke or another. As she polished off another drink she told herself that she wasn’t drinking to get drunk, merely to enjoy the company but as she looked around the pub she saw a load of old men, and a few women, leaning in heaps over tables she realised that she was just here to get drunk and try and escape her loneliness like every other of these pour souls were. Patrick knew she was lonely, he knew it before she did. She really hated Patrick right now. She hated the fact that Patrick was so right all of the time, she hated the way that he could look at her and know what she was feeling and mostly she hated the way he had complete and utter control over her and now even when she had turned him down and could be doing anything he still occupied her every thought. She sighed angrily, giving up, as the barman passed her another drink and a worried glance
On the other side of the pub in a particularly quiet corner sat Patrick, drinking straight whisky from the glass in front of him, occasionally having his glass refilled by the friendly barman who knew Patrick better than most of his colleagues at Holby did, he realised that Patrick wouldn’t want to come up to the bar when he could stay here sitting in the semi-darkness feeling sorry for himself. At present he was thinking about Holly like he usually did when he drank. He was wondering why she turned his offer of a drink down again, why she is so scared to let herself anywhere near him and why nothing he ever did seemed good enough for her. They could have been having a good time somewhere: forgetting the troubles of the day together but instead he was sat here dwelling on them and she was probably at home with her microwave meal for one and a good book. What fun! Patrick was just considering getting up to get a packet of ready salted crisps from the bar (the highlight of the evening so far!) when he heard the radio being turned on and although he cursed whoever turned it on for ruining his piece and quiet he couldn’t help but listen to the lyrics as the music flowed over him.
*You can’t manufacture a miracle too damn right you can’t, unless you’re me, because I’m great. No such things as miracles mate, only hard work and miracle workers: like G&Ts. Oh, I love them!
The silence was pitiful that day. Silence is golden, unlike this pitiful excuse for a song…. Cheese and onion, Salt and vinegar? There’s always a silence around Patrick and me, he never listens and I never… oh god, I’m thinking about him again.
A love is getting too cynical Love has always been cynical, just like me, none of this happily ever after crap. Love? Oh hell, don’t start me on love. Not until I’ve had a few more G&Ts at any rate.
Passion’s just physical, these days Since when was passion not physical? You’re getting your passion and your love mixed up here mate. Just physical, what do you mean just? Passion is passion, be greatful!
You analyse everyone you meet Of course I do, I’m a doctor: it’s called assessing the patient. I know I do, your point is?
But get no sign, love ain't kind Love isn’t just unkind it’s down right spiteful. No sign that Patrick is human, no. And I thought I told you to leave the love thing?
every night you admit defeat No I never I… oh yeh, no one’s listening. Of course I do. I never denied defeat.
and cry yourself blind Drink myself blind, there’s a difference. How do you know this stuff?
If you can't wake up in the morning Who can? Of course I can’t: I’m on earlies.
Cause your bed lies vacant at night Not through lack of try though, you must admit. Only one man could fill my bed, well two but does Brad Pitt count?
If you're lost Nah, I’m in the pub Yeh, hurt, slightly hung over, nothing serious. Yeh tired now you come to mention it… Yeh or lonely No comment. Yeh
Can't control it, try as you might Tell me about it, this whisky is doing nothing at all. And hell have I tried.
May you find that love that won't leave you Dream on mate: love always leaves. I wish…
May you find it by the end of the day 13 minutes and counting to find it then. In here? Get real!
You won't be lost, hurt, tired and lonely I’m not lost or hurt anyway. Sounds good to me.
Something beautiful will come your way Holly, where? They say beautiful I think Patrick; I have the man on the brain!
The DJ said on the radio Ohh! A DJ on a radio, how novel! Radio, I remember that from when I had time to listen to music.
Life should be stereo, each day If you say so mate. Just a life would be good.
In the past you cast the unsuitable Holly was very suitable, she was the sort of girl you want you parents to meet. Or am I getting that mixed up with sensible? Too much whisky! Patrick was unsuitable, I know. That’s what my mum said anyway!
Instead of some kind of beautiful, you just couldn't wait Hey! Holly is beautiful, you insulting Holly? I couldn’t wait to be with him, maybe we rushed it and that’s why it won’t work…
All your friends think you're satisfied Friends? I am drinking straight whisky alone on a Wednesday; do I look like I have friends? Too right, what do they know?
But they can't see your soul no, no, no No one can, except Holly. No, they just think they know me and that because I smile I’m ok.
Forgot the time feeling petrified, when they lived alone I hate that house, so empty! The memory of Tom, petrified is right.If you can't wake up in the morning We’ve discussed this! It’s okay: I have an alarm clock.
Cause your bed lies vacant at night Yep, still. Uh hu, no Patrick. Rub it in why don’t you?
If you're lost, hurt, tired or lonely I feel sick…. Oh, I loooooooove him.
Can't control it, try as you might I’m really going to throw up now. I can’t hide it I love him and it hurts so- oh! G&T!
May you find that love that won't leave you Holly left me. Patrick left me.
May you find it by the end of the day 11 and a half minutes I’m waiting, come on love…
You won't be lost, hurt, tired and lonely Good About frigging time.
Something beautiful will come your way Oh my God!
Some kind of beautiful (will come your way) Holly?!
Some kind of beautiful (will come your way) Patrick?!
Some kind of beautiful (will come your way) Oh my god, what is she doing here? Now? Oh sh… and I bet I cant walk either!
Some kind of beautiful (will come your way) Shall I? Yes! Go girl… oh what am I doing? Just one more G&T for good luck.
Holly swallowed the contents of what was in the bottom of the glass and looked over to where the tall, dark, handsome stranger sat. It was defiantly Patrick, how could she not have noticed before. As she looked she realised that she had missed not only one Patrick but two, then she shook herself and realised she was just seeing double. It was quite an effort to prop herself up but eventually she managed it and she shot Patrick a ‘come hither because I cant walk over there’ glance and to her surprise he started to walk over towards her, shakily putting one foot in front of the other.
Patrick managed to fight back the erg to be sick as he stood up, realising that it would defiantly not impress Holly. As he walked towards her he heard the final bars of that damn song pulling to a close
All your friends think you're satisfied
But they can't see your soul no no no
Forgot the time feeling petrified
When they lived alone
And he sighed in relief to hear just the snores of the drunks fill the bar once again. He was grateful that he wouldn’t have to shout to try and get Holly to understand him, which was a hard enough task without music. She smiled as he sat down opposite her and Patrick took this as a good sign, hoping she didn’t just have wind.“I thought you couldn’t come out tonight.” He said harshly.
“I couldn’t, now I can.” He heard her reply. He nodded because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Are you lost, hurt tired or lonely?” Holly asked him as she gazed unsteadily into his eyes.
“What?” He asked.“It’s from that song.” Holly told him.
“That song reminded me off you.” He blurted out after a moment.
“Why?” She asked.
“Because you are something beautiful.” He smiled.
“That’s sweet. It reminded me of you too but that’s just because everything reminds me of you, that drunk man at the window: he reminds me of you.” Holly told Patrick and Patrick just shook his head in reply.
“It’s been a strange night Hol, too much whisky I think. You want to come back to mine?” He asked: breath held waiting for the answer.
“Sure, but you may have to carry me.” Holly said as they hobbled together towards the door and the clock chimed midnight. “Hey, it’s the end of the day!” Holly announced brightly.
“So?” Patrick said with his usual level of enthusiasm.
“’May you find that love that won't leave you May you find it by the end of the day’” Holly sang. “And now it’s the end of the day!”
“You take far too much notice of song’s Hol, they aren’t real you know.”
“You mean you weren’t talking to the song too?”
“No, that would be stupid.”
“I guess so.”
*In the interest of people not suing the pants off me I would like to point out that none of the lyrics in italics are mine, all copyright of Robbie Williams ‘Something beautiful’.