Читать книгу Break-Up Club: A smart, funny novel about love and friendship - Lorelei Mathias - Страница 13

‘Hol, have you got the glass-effect champagne flutes?’

Holly was staring down at her mobile phone while leaning against an overflowing trolley. They were in their local supermarket, doing a last minute dash for party supplies.

‘Sweetie, the flutes.’

Holly, as Head of Disposable Catering Equipment, nodded. ‘Yep. I’m on it.’

Bella looked Holly in the eye. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I’ve just had an email from my old boss. It seems any chance I had of escaping my job at TotesAwful has now gone.’

‘Oh no! What did he say?’

‘I’m actually quite hurt! All he said was, “Sorry, the position’s been filled. I’m sure you’ll work it out one way or another. Good luck, M x”.’

‘That’s a bit cryptic! Oh well. Looks like you’ll have to style it out with weird old Jez. Poor Hollychops!’

‘Thanks hon,’ Holly said as she clocked a flash of Bella’s stomach, which was now looking considerably concave. ‘But never mind me, how are you feeling?’

‘Mmm, I think today is a good day. I managed to eat a whole apple.’

‘Good!’

As they pushed their trolley past a window, Bella caught sight of her face in the reflection. ‘Christ, look at this new one coming through. Are you sure I won’t scare away all the guests? People will think it’s a Halloween party! More to the point though, WHY AM I STILL GETTING SPOTS? I am three years shy of 30!’ she sighed and looked skywards to the God Of Acne Redemption.

Holly stifled a laugh and pretended to scan Bella’s face. ‘Where? I can’t see it! You look fine.’

‘Two words you must never say to women! Fine or Nice! You know that!’

‘Sorry. OK, well, it’s not as bad as you think.’

‘I thought you couldn’t see it. It’s a proper big momma. And I can already feel it’s got a little baby one coming through just next to it.’

‘You mean it’s “with child”?’

‘Yes!’ Bella said, laughing. ‘But aside from the horror that is my face, I’m really looking forward to getting to work on The List.’

‘List?’

‘Everyone has a list.’

‘The only list I have is a to-do list. It begins with “back up my photos”, and ends in “clean out the cupboard under the stairs”.’

‘No, not that kind of a to-do list. No, THE LIST is the secret wish list you have in your head, of guys you’d sleep with if you were single.’

‘Not me. I’ve never had one of those,’ Holly said, but at the exact moment Leading-Man Luke’s face popped into her head.

‘So yeah. Bollocks to Sam – I’m just dead excited to be single again! I’m like, let’s get out there and shop for sweets! Yeah, instead of thinking, “bollocks, I’ve just lost the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with,” I’ve decided to flip this fucker around!’ Bella stood in the centre of the frozen foods aisle and looked up towards the overhead lighting, her eyes dancing with anticipation for what the future might bring. ‘I’m free! I can dance on my own like nobody’s watching me! At any given moment, wherever I go, whatever I do, I could meet my next love interest! It’s just totally invigorating to know I’ve not yet had my last first kiss!’

‘Well that sounds utterly rubbish,’ Holly said, trying not to be swept away by how entirely exciting singleton-dom sounded, suppressing the tiny voice inside of her that was whispering, ‘I want some of that! Take me with you!’

‘Have you heard from Lawrence?’ Bella added, jolting Holly out of her reverie.

‘No. It’s been a week since we rowed! I think maybe I was too harsh on him. I don’t even know if he’s coming to the party. Should I break the silence?’

‘No, darling. I expect he’s gone into his cave, which means he’ll probably not reply and you’ll feel like shit. No, let’s get the rest of this shopping done so we can get home and crack open the rosé. Everything will seem brighter then.’

Half an hour later, Holly, Bella and their flatmate Daniel were hauling shopping bags up the stairs. Daniel attempted to open the internal front door, but it appeared to be blocked by an incoming tide of coats.

‘OK. Bella that’s it. This is officially no longer a functioning thoroughfare. No one can feasibly need this many coats,’ he said, gesturing to the suspended jumble sale and the full-to-bursting Morrisons plastic bag that hung by a plastic thread on top of them.

Bella looked up and blinked innocently.

‘He does have a point, B. And this Morrison’s bag really has to go. WHAT IS IT?’

Bella frowned. ‘Don’t be mean. It’s the break-up bag. It’s all of Sammy’s shit. I can’t bear to have it in my room, but I also can’t bear to throw it away. So it’s in no man’s land until I can work it out.’

‘Well it’s blocking entry to the flat, so you’ll have to find another place for it,’ Daniel said. ‘It’s practically a Health and Safety violation. Just think if there was a fire…’

Bella, who had already made a start on the rosé on the way home, began to laugh. ‘Hey, it’s the Break-up Bag! From the Break-up Superstore!’ She took the bag off the hook and began sifting through Sam-remnants. Her face became overcast.

‘What’s in it anyway?’ Holly peered into the bag. One pair of trainers, beyond toxic. Two packs of cigarettes, one half empty. Some boxer shorts. A curling toothbrush. A Lynx deodorant. And lastly, a framed piece of paper bearing what could only be described as an actor’s manifesto.

‘What is this…?’ Holly said, reading the manifesto. ‘“The Theatre speaks to the Actor…”’ she began, clearing her throat, ‘“I will give you hunger and pain and sleepless nights… Beauty and glimpses of… Heavenly light, all these I will give to you.’”

‘Give me that!’ Bella wrestled the frame from Holly’s hand. Then she read aloud with pretend-gravitas, “‘None of these things you will have constantly… All these things will be momentary: Adventure, and be bold!’”

Holly doubled over on the floor laughing. Bella slumped down next to her.

‘Well, that confirms it then,’ Holly said.

‘What?’

‘More reasons to break up with Sammy…’ sang Holly, aping the old ‘More reasons to shop at Morrisons’ jingle.

Bella had tears down her face, but was unable to resist joining in with the singing. As they sang in loud, unabashed hollers, their arms doing improvised actions, three coats came cascading to the floor, proving that perhaps the Break-up Bag had been serving a more practical gravity-defying purpose than they’d realised.

Daniel re-emerged from his bedroom and cleared his throat. ‘Right, well, I’m going to start setting up the party. You’re welcome to give me a hand when you’ve finished your pantomime.’ He squeezed past, knocking even more hats and scarves flying. Holly and Bella looked at each other and giggled.

‘In all seriousness though, when will you actually do the break-up exchange? It’s surely not good feng shui to have all these memories around, cluttering the hallway like this?’

Bella laughed, taking another swig of rosé before heave-hoing some of the coats into the hall cupboard. Then she slammed the door after them, oblivious to the stray mitten-on-a-string that kept getting caught in the door frame. ‘Oh why won’t it shut? Why? Why!’

Holly looked up to see that Bella’s face was beginning to crumple – a sign she was on the threshold of hysteria. Uh-oh, not a crying fit, please. That could set them back hours in terms of party preparation time. Holly leaned forward, grabbed the stray mitten and tucked it inside the cupboard. ‘There,’ she said, kissing Bella on the forehead.

‘Thank you,’ Bella replied, slamming the cupboard shut. ‘Why aren’t there people around to help with this stuff, to make life easier? Why aren’t there professionals you can employ to mediate between you and your bastard ex?’

‘You make a good point. Yes, they could be like Break-up Bailiffs! You hire them for a nominal fee, and they do the awkward exchange of stuff, so you don’t have to!’

‘Yes! Hell, they could bring me my sleeping bag that I left at his! And my purple tights! And my…’ Bella trailed off, her face flushed. ‘Oh my giddy Christ. I’ve left my COCKING rabbit at his. Is there anything in this world more ridiculous?’

The image of Sam cleaning out his drawers and discovering one of Bella’s many battery-operated devices was too much to prevent them from collapsing into giggles again.

‘Or, here’s a thought,’ Bella said when they regained composure, ‘instead of Break-up Bailiffs, maybe there should be some kind of art exhibition, like a kind of heartache amnesty? It’d be like TFL’s lost and found, only much, much sadder!’

‘Oh yes! And we could call it “Loved and Lost”, like from that Tennyson poem you hate!’

‘And people could auction off some of the stuff! Like, it’s too sad for me to wear those red LK Bennett shoes that Sam bought me, but someone else might just get loads of use out of them and maybe the money could go to a charity like Relate, the marriage guidance people! And hey, we could source all the artefacts through Facebook! And we could do a spin-off TV show that you could pitch to TotesAwful and buy yourself another six months work with! And, and…!’ Bella stopped; her eyes popping with excitement. At this point, Holly knew from experience there was every chance Bella would go into hyper-drive, get locked on and not let up until they’d quit their jobs and held the auction right then and there.

‘Yes. It’s an awesome idea and WE WILL DO IT, but for now, we have a party to set up, capiche?’

Bella nodded, busy scribbling in her pink notebook.

‘Look, I’ll take custody of the bag for now. Just try not to think about it, or Sam, OK?’

‘Thanks Hol, you’re a legend,’ she said, hugging Holly.

Holly took the ‘Break-up Bag’ and tied the ends together tightly, as though this would lock in all the memories and keep them away. Holding it at arm’s length, she carried it to the cupboard and shoved it in, right to the back. Then she headed to her room and began to think about what dress she could wear that wouldn’t require a bringing forward of the annual event that was ironing. She opened her wardrobe.

After a few minutes of sifting, the doorbell rang.

‘Fuck sticks,’ Holly said as she tripped over the half-detonated shopping bags on the way to the door.

‘Oh no! Who’s here already?!’ Bella said, emerging from her room with a homemade egg and oatmeal face mask on. ‘Why would people be early for things? It’s the height of rudeness!’ as she spoke, a large dollop of oatmeal-yolk fell off her cheek and landed splat on the floor.

‘And I’m sure they’d be charmed to hear you say so, lovely. Anyway, calm yourself! It’ll just be Liv; I asked her to be an early person.’ Holly stepped over the yolk and opened the door.

Olivia strolled in, carrying a holdall filled with food in tins and plastic containers. ‘Here you go ladies, I had a bit of a bake-off with myself and got a little carried away,’ Olivia said. ‘There’s some cupcakes, flapjacks, some pies and things.’

‘Wow, amazing, thank you Liv!’

‘This is so generous of you!’ Bella said, opening up the boxes and peering in.

‘It’s amazing there’s any left though, I kept on sampling the goods as I made them. I must’ve eaten my own body weight in butter! Definitely need to go to the gym tomorrow! Anyway, who’s coming tonight?’ Olivia asked with a definite subtext of ‘will there be any Olivia-types?’

‘I’m not sure to be honest,’ Holly said. ‘It was all so last minute; whoever shows up will be a bonus.’

‘Harry’s coming though isn’t he?’ Bella said.

‘Oh yes, I can’t wait to see him!’

‘Who’s Harry?’ Olivia asked.

‘My oldest best friend from school. You won’t fancy him Liv, before you even go there. Plus he’s practically married and is rarely allowed out – we lost him down a domestic abyss in Suburbiton some years ago. Which is why it’s so blooming exciting he’s even coming!’

There was a knock on the internal front door. Holly opened it to reveal a smiling man with a navy trilby hat perched on a bed of ginger hair.

‘The man himself!’ she threw her arms around Harry, knocking his hat flying. He was always wearing hats of some sort. Possibly to divert attention from his slightly receding hairline, or possibly to give himself a sneaky bit of extra height.

‘Come in, come in,’ Holly said, gesturing to the cramped hallway while stripping Harry of his duffel coat. He wandered further into the hall and was quickly swallowed up in hugs and how-are-yous from Bella and then Olivia.

‘Liv, this is The Great Harry. Me and him go way back to primary school, but I hardly ever see him anymore, now he’s gone south of the river!’

‘I have an Oyster, I will travel, you know! And you’re always welcome in Surbiton,’ he said.

Then he looked Bella – in her face mask and dressed in her only size six dress – up and down. ‘Christ, Belle, have you lost weight?’ he said while hugging her. ‘There’s nothing of you!’

Holly stared at Harry, remembering why people often mistook him for being gay.

‘What?’ he said, reading her expression. ‘I’m a sensitive guy! I notice these things!’

‘It’s true, your face is gaunt,’ Olivia said in admiration, ‘it’s all fallen off you!’

‘Well, since you mention it, this is my skinny dress. I’ve not worn it since I was a teenager!’

Olivia’s eyes scrunched together, as though her brain was trying to process the idea of anyone still possessing clothing they’d bought in the nineties.

‘So what’s your secret?’ Harry asked in his best mock-Gok.

Bella smiled. ‘I’m calling it the Break-up Diet. All the slebs are doing it. Last month was the Five-Two diet – this month it’s the Misery Plan.’

Harry and Holly laughed, and then slowed to a stop, realising this was possibly inappropriate.

‘The ideas is, you eat nothing for two weeks, then in a rare moment of gluttony, you load up on carbs. And it doesn’t even show!’

‘Well, melancholy looks good on you,’ Olivia said, in the same tone as if she was admiring a new pair of Louboutins.

‘No it’s awful really. I miss food; it’s one of my biggest pleasures. But nothing looks in any way edible when you’ve got a heart as wretched as mine,’ she said, drawing out each word and looking skyward as though she was giving a soliloquy at The Globe.

Harry put his arm around her. ‘Ah, poor Bellarama.’

‘I’m serious. No food has passed my lips in days. Unless you count my own mucus, from crying so much.’

Holly looked at the vintage Coca-Cola clock on the wall. ‘Um, guys. Not to sound insensitive, but now really isn’t the time for one of your impromptu Break-up Club meetings. We still have a party to set up?’

Olivia’s eyes darted to the ceiling. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no such thing as Break-up Club. It was just a wind-up.’

Behind Olivia’s back, Bella was nodding and mouthing the words, ‘Yes there is.’

Despite herself, Holly couldn’t help feeling a tiny bit left out.

‘Anyway, Harry, how about you come and chat to me while I get ready? Tell me how’ve you been?’ she said, heading to her bedroom.

‘Aye, no’ bad,’ went his warm Edinburgh accent as he followed Holly and dumped his Howies bag onto her bedroom floor.

‘Aw, your lovely accent is back – have you been back home again?’

‘Yup. A week with the McGregor clan is all it takes to eradicate my silly Southern accent. Speaking of silly, how are things with you and Lawrence?’

‘Yeah, fine. Apart from all the rows.’

She pulled off her top and realised she was now only in her bra and jeans. She didn’t bother to try and cover up though; Harry was like a brother to her. They’d seen each other half naked so many times before that it didn’t bother either of them. Or, as Harry liked to put it, she was safely inside ‘the circle of sexual disgust’.

‘But hey, everyone rows at least three times a week, don’t they?’

‘Um, no Holly. Three times a week is sex. Arguing is less, ideally.’

‘Bollards. We’re shagging less than average too then!’

Holly attempted to pull on her dress, quickly finding herself all tangled up, before remembering that you needed a PhD in contortionism to put on most All Saints dresses. ‘Um, can you give me a hand?’

‘Here you go, doofus.’ Harry began grappling with the many complicated layers. Then he deftly realigned it, somehow managing to reposition the intricate flaps and hangy-downy bits in such a way that Holly could now manage actual breathing.

‘There. Bootiful,’ Harry said.

‘Thanks,’ she said, assessing her reflection in the mirror and giving him a quick kiss on the forehead. ‘Brilliant. Shall we go upstairs?’ she said, shoving on some lip gloss. ‘Hope you’re hungry. There’s shitloads of food.’

Three hours later, 249a was at capacity. People were lining the stairs from the hallway to the kitchen, to the extent where it almost looked as though their kitchen had a one-in-one-out policy. Most of the faces she knew, but some were Daniel’s work colleagues, who were mostly the wrong side of dorky. Dressed in shirts and smart shoes, they were downing vodka like they’d never been hung-over before. Holly headed to the kitchen and spotted Daniel, his head in the freezer, wading through bags of frozen peas and fish fingers.

‘Have you seen the ice?’ he asked. ‘It can’t have all gone?’

‘No, sorry,’ Holly said. ‘Do you ever wonder whether we’re too old to have parties like this now?’

Daniel nodded. ‘Every minute,’ he said as they watched someone run and be sick into a bin.

‘Have you seen Bella?’ Holly asked and Daniel shook his head.

Moments later, Holly was pushing her way through the randoms in the hallway. She peeled two drunk girls off Bella’s bedroom door, then hammered on it.

‘I’m not here.’

‘Bella? Are you OK? Everyone’s been asking where you are. It’s me, Holly.’

‘Oh, OK. Come in. But don’t bring anyone else.’

Holly walked into the room and was affronted by a crockery-based Armageddon. Dirty plates, half-empty mugs of furry tea, and pizza boxes lined the floor, along with piles of dirty washing. At the centre of it all was Bella, lying across her bed, staring at her laptop.

‘Oi! You’re not stalking him again?’

‘I’m not, really, I promise!!!’

Bella’s fingers leapt to the screen, and minimised the tab she had open. Holly snatched the laptop off her and opened up the History column in the toolbar, which yielded about a hundred search results for ‘Sam Macnamara’, and some pages of IMDb. Holly cleared her throat. ‘Yes you are. You’re on the International Movie Database.’

‘But he’s just been released from Guildhall and I need to check up on him! See what girls he’s working with and how pretty they are!’

‘Step away from the Macbook, Isabella Allen.’

‘In a minute! Just as soon as I’ve finished looking at his new Spotlight photos; he’s had a load more done, and he looks so hot in them! In black and white, too. LOOK AT THEM,’ she said, scrolling through the pictures. ‘I can’t bear it. I can’t bear to think that that used to be mine!’

‘He looks gay in them to me.’

‘Really?’ Bella’s cheeks brightened. ‘Not edgy, hunky, manly?’

‘Gay as a Tahitian pineapple.’

Bella’s eyes lit up like a Catherine wheel. Then she stared at Holly as if to say, ‘Please sir, can I have some more.’

‘And old. Just look at those new wrinkles round his eyes. All that chain-smoking is bound to add years to his playing age.’

‘Oh, you’re a good friend,’ Bella said, smiling.

‘Seriously, friend, this isn’t good. Is your RADAR not switched on?’

‘I know. I’m a certified nut-nut. But you’d think with all the modern-day inventions, someone would invent an app to stop you Googling or Face-stalking people?’ she looked at Holly, her eyes desperate.

‘They have, you numpty,’ Holly said. ‘It’s called the application of willpower.’

‘Oh very funny. But…’ she trailed off, realising something. ‘Aha! You can’t stop me watching his reel though, can you! HAHA! I’ve got that on an actual “duvuda”! Bet you don’t know where that is, do you?’

‘No, I don’t. But, honey, you MUST stop monitoring his progress. It’s a little bit bunny-boiling, and it isn’t going to help you get over him.’

‘Get over him? Why should I want to do that?’

Holly sighed. There was a knock at the door.

‘Girls?’ came the concerned voice of their flatmate.

‘Come in. I could do with some back-up in here.’

Daniel strode in just as Bella began pressing the refresh key over and over again, her eyes widening.

‘OH flipping lord, NO. Holly, your dongle has gone flaccid! The Internet has shut me out! I was just about to see who was playing the leading lady in his new play! Daniel, please can I borrow your wireless code thing? I promise not to use it for porn.’

Daniel shook his head adamantly. ‘It’s a no from me, Bella.’

‘Please??!’

‘No way. You went over my download limit last time.’

‘Please??!’

Daniel was still shaking his head.

‘Shit, it’s not fair!’ Bella said. ‘Where is Magic Internet when you need it?’

Bella was referring to the intermittent insecure Wi-Fi they were sometimes able to pick up And because Magic Internet occasionally worked in her bedroom, she had refused to contribute financially towards getting proper broadband installed in the flat.

‘Bella, the party is in full swing, why don’t you come upstairs and actually socialize? It’s eleven thirty!’ Holly said, looking at Bella’s clock on the wall.

‘Oh that one’s really fast. It’s not as late as that.’

‘Well what time is it?’ Daniel asked, his patience waning.

Bella pointed to the alarm clock on her bedside table. ‘Let’s see, that one’s only seven minutes fast, I think. So if that one says it’s twenty past, then it must be just coming up to eleven fifteen.’

‘Bella you lunatic, why are none of your clocks set at the right time?!’

‘I’ve told you before; it’s to stop me being late!’

‘But if you never know which one is which, how does that even work?!’

But Bella was still absorbed with tapping away at her screen, pressing refresh and trying to make the Internet come to life. She sighed.

Daniel was now fractionally red in the face. ‘Seriously, Belle, what are you DOING? There’s a party going on upstairs. A party YOU insisted on having. Our house is getting crapped on from a great height. The least you could do is get up there and ENJOY IT.’

Bella’s face began creasing. Gradually, something similar to the Iguazu Falls came gushing out of her eyes, down her face and onto the bed, leaving watery deposits of mascara all over her pink duvet. And so began a tantrum-ette. To the uninitiated, a tantrum-ette wasn’t quite a full-blown hysteria fit with fist-on-floor thumping action, but it was tiptoeing over the edge of what constituted ‘normal’ adult behaviour. Amusing to watch though it was, it didn’t last long, and Bella would be back to her charming self within minutes.

Holly put her arm around her. ‘Come on, B. It’ll be OK. I know it must feel horrendous now, but it will get better.’ She watched in silence as her hand rose and descended on Bella’s back, in time with her sobs.

Daniel dispatched a guilty, ‘I think my work here is done,’ look at Holly, before retreating upstairs. She started brushing Bella’s hair and mopping up her face with tissues.

‘Thanks Holly,’ Bella said through sobs.

‘Hey, anytime,’ she said, delivering a big bear hug.

‘I’m really sorry for having another outburst. If it’s any consolation, I have really been trying to cut down.’

‘I know.’

‘You’re like family to me. You know that, don’t you?’

‘Aw, thanks Belle,’ she said, wondering if Bella wasn’t becoming a bit needy lately. ‘So, shall we go upstairs? I for one need a drink. Lawrence still hasn’t been in touch!’

Bella nodded and brushed herself down. They headed to the kitchen, to join Harry and Olivia, who were with Daniel’s friend Jonny – more commonly referred to as Jonny The Archetypal Public School Boy.

‘So I had some brilliant news today,’ Jonny was saying, placing some cocktail sausages onto his plate. ‘I made an offer on a little “pied-à-terre”…’ he said, raising his fingers into little animated quotation marks, ‘and amazingly it’s just been accepted!’

There was a general chorus of ‘Wow – that’s awesome!’ and ‘Well done!’ and ‘Where?’

‘Thanks!’ he beamed. ‘It’s in Victoria Park village. It’s all exposed brick, high ceilings, and it’s got this cool mezzanine level.’

As Jonny began to tell them more about his new flat, Holly felt herself zoning out. She stood up and went to open another wine bottle. Despite her best efforts, buying flats was still something she just couldn’t bring herself to feel excited about yet. She returned back to the circle just in time to hear Jonny deliver the sentence all homeowners used to make themselves feel better about stamp duty and a life devoted to choosing bathroom tiles: ‘No more throwing rent money down the drain for me now I’ve managed to buy!’ he beamed.

Holly cringed, realising that Jonny – chiselled and charming though he was – was now on the other side of a dotted line. The one separating those who had made it onto that most impossible of rites of passage, the first rung of the property ladder, and those that still hadn’t. The ones that were living in sweet denial of pensions, properties and prams… and most of all, the big ‘Three Oh’ that was hurtling towards them with relentless zeal.

‘So…’ Holly began, as she poured out more wine, ‘does no one else think it’s a bit odd… this whole “–uying” thing?’

Everyone looked confused.

‘You know. One day in your mid-twenties, out of nowhere, people start talking about “BUYING.” But they don’t say what. It’s like, now it’s okay to just say, “We’re buying”, and expect people to know what you mean. Has no one else noticed that?’

Everyone stared at her with a mixture of raised eyebrows and furrowed foreheads.

‘People are just being sensible, that’s all,’ Olivia said. ‘You know, trying to get some security for the future.’

‘And then,’ Holly went on, ‘three years later, the same thing happens. Only it rhymes. You just replace the “B” sound with a “TR” sound. Does no one think this is odd?’

‘Oh right, I get you,’ Bella said.

‘I mean, what’s next after that? Lying? Sighing?’

‘Crying?’ Bella suggested.

‘Dying,’ put in Harry, emptying the last drops of white wine into his glass, and then opening another bottle entirely on autopilot. ‘Or, D.I.Y.-ing. Whichever is worse, I guess.’

Olivia placed her empty glass onto the table a fraction too forcefully. ‘Well. I’m a long way off ANY of those things. My relationship of seven years has just flatlined, and nearly everything I own is currently residing in a small storage unit in Brent Cross. Mostly I think I’m going to be CRYING.’

As Olivia’s face coloured, Holly felt the tact police slam handcuffs around her wrists. ‘Shit, sorry, Liv. That was insensitive of me, prattling on like that. Sorry. Are you OK?’

Jonny edged closer to Olivia and draped a heavily triathloned forearm around her. Olivia turned to look into his eyes and smiled. ‘I’m fine Holly, don’t worry,’ she said, still looking into Jonny’s hazel eyes. ‘I was just winding you up.’

‘Anyway, I thought you were going to buy your mate’s flat, Liv?’

‘That’s the plan, but it’s not gone through yet. The solicitors are dragging their heels. Yawn.’

‘Oh dear. But anyway,’ Holly went on, ‘all I really meant was, we’re still young, and there’s plenty of time before we have to get all serious, isn’t there? It just came out a bit wonky. And if it helps, now that I’ve made an epic career fail, the only property I’m ever likely to be able to afford as a first-time buyer is a converted Portaloo.’

‘Hol, you’re all good now, you can leave it there…’ Olivia said.

‘I’m going to get another drink then. Can I get you one?’ Holly said, but Olivia was now engaged in an intense and prolonged session of eye contact with Jonny.

‘You OK?’ Harry asked, following Holly to the fridge.

She shook her head. ‘Not really.’

‘Lawrence?’

She paused for a moment. ‘How did you guess?’ she said, holding out her glass as Harry raided the fridge. ‘Booze me up please.’

He smiled and handed her a vodka and tonic.

‘Did you know that Bella and Liv have formed something they’re calling a “Break-up Club”? Liv keeps saying it’s just a joke, but I think it’s sort of become real, through necessity. Bella says they meet up, just the two of them, every Sunday night.’

‘The most depressing night of the week. Makes sense.’

Harry led them to an empty sofa and sat down at one end. Holly stretched out next to him, laying her head on him. It was one of her favourite places to sit – with her head resting in the nook of his shoulder.

‘What you thinking HolFace? You tempted to join the cult?’

‘Christ no! Although, if I’m honest, I do sometimes get this teeny-weeny feeling of doubt. But everyone gets that, don’t they? Who’s ever in a relationship they’re totally sure about all the time? I mean, that would be weird, right?’

‘I couldn’t be surer about Rachel and me.’

Oh yes, Rachel, she remembered, lifting her head off Harry’s shoulder. ‘Sshhh, show-off,’ she said, prodding him in the stomach.

‘Ow! Well, to be brutally honest, Hol, it sounds to me like you’ve heard the bell.’