Break-Up Club

by Lorelei Mathias

  ‘Because it’s cheap, and we can always get a seat,’ Bella began, ‘and because when you’re here, you can’t sink any lower. Lower your expectations, and you lower your propensity towards disappointment.’ It wasn’t entirely clear whether she was talking about their surroundings or something more. Either way, as was sometimes the case with Bella, there was a kernel of wisdom buried deep.

  ‘So how’s the exciting new job?’ Olivia said. ‘Is it getting any better?’

  ‘Nope. Starting to really wish I’d stayed where I was. Far better to be a junior editor in a company I liked, than a senior one in a clusterfuck of an omnishambles! Not only is it such a small outfit there that I’m doubling as general office gofer, and doing all my own grading as well as the editing, but Jeremy’s also got me and the other editor there competing to pitch him ideas for new shows in our spare time!’

  ‘Bet you’d be good at that though, wouldn’t you?’ Bella said.

  ‘Not the sort of rubbish he likes. From what I’ve seen so far, he’s got the creative judgment of a discombobulated goldfish. But I’m going to give it my best shot.’ Holly’s voice slowed as she noticed a Vesuvius of tears erupting all over Bella’s face.

  ‘What happened?’ she said, stroking Bella’s hair.

  ‘Dylan,’ Bella said, as if this explained everything.

  Holly’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

  ‘It’s bloody, bastarding Bob, on the cocking jukebox. I was doing fine until this!’

  ‘What’s wrong with Bob Dylan?’ Holly asked, regretting it as soon as she had.

  ‘Bob Dylan is Sam’s favourite singer. It’s like they know!’ Bella said, scowling across at a cluster of innocent bystanders at the jukebox. Then she looked hopelessly from Holly to Olivia, her eyes bloodshot.

  ‘Oh, dear,’ Olivia said, leaning forward to give Bella a hug.

  Holly rubbed Bella’s shoulders. ‘Poor B. It is awful now, I know, but it will get better. I think. It has to, doesn’t it?’ Holly looked for direction from Olivia, who smiled and nodded unconvincingly. ‘Um, will it help if I say something about focusing on the good times? Like, you know, it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have—’

  ‘Oh don’t you dare start with that BOLLOCKS!’ Bella cut in. ‘Nothing but propaganda, perpetrated only by the likes of Moon Pig, to sell pointless cards! I can honestly say that I feel so much worse for having been shat on by Sam than I would do if I hadn’t ever met him!’ She was now swaying, having dispensed with any attempts to conceal her level of inebriation.

  ‘Are you calling Alfred Lord Tennyson a liar?’ Holly asked.

  ‘Well surprise me, it was a bloke that said it!’ Bella yelled, ever more irate. ‘And since when is Lord a middle name?’

  ‘OK,’ Holly said, stroking Bella’s hair again. ‘Let’s take some deep breaths now.’

  ‘I’ll bet Alfred didn’t have any useful advice on what to do with the stupid little leftovers you have after a break-up, did he?’ Bella said in between deep breaths. ‘For instance, I have this weird little pack of break-up detritus that I’ve been carrying around all day. It’s basically the contents of my “drawer” at his house. You know, the shit I’d leave at his for when I stayed over.’ She paused for a breath, mid-rant. ‘When I left, I just shoved the lot into my rucksack, and now I don’t know what to do with it all. Do I unpack each and every sad bit of toiletry and make sure I use them one by one? That might make for really sad showers?’

  ‘Can you even say the word toiletries in singular form?’ interjected Olivia, prompting a scowl-ette from Bella.

  ‘Or, do I pack it away and save it until we ever get back together, or until I meet someone else who is ready to give me a drawer again? Is that sick though?’

  ‘Little bit,’ Olivia said.

  ‘Haha,’ snorted Holly, realising something. ‘You’ve got a BOYFRIEND PACK! You beautiful nut-nut!’

  ‘Just throw it all away, surely?’ Olivia said. ‘Buy new stuff. I don’t know why you didn’t just leave it all there!’

  ‘Where is it all? Let me at it!’ Holly said.

  Reluctantly, Bella produced the Boyfriend Pack from within her rucksack. She opened the bag and upturned it so that the contents splayed out all over the floor. Shampoo miniatures, a small travel hairdryer, hairbrush, manicure set and suchlike.

  Holly dived in to claim some of the miniatures. ‘These will come in handy for the gym!’

  ‘When have you ever been to a gym?’ Olivia said, who had started going to Gym Box every morning at 6 a.m. without fail since moving down to London.

  ‘I’m going to start. This will make me start!’

  ‘I guess I could use that hairdryer if you’re not going to use it,’ Olivia said, grabbing it with both hands.

  Before long, the bag was empty, save some weathered nail-files, and the problem was solved.

  Fuuuuuuuuck, was all Holly could think as she stared at the empty bag. What if she ever broke up with Lawrence? After nearly five years, it would be her life in duplicate. Her Boyfriend Pack would be more than some tiny Dick Whittington pouch; it would probably stretch to three suitcases’ worth.

  ‘So,’ Bella said, turning to Olivia in a bid to deflect the embarrassment away from herself if only momentarily. ‘How are you, Liv? How have you been coping?’

  ‘Yeah, fine. Ross has been in touch a few times over the house stuff. He’s finished buying me out, so it feels good not to be tied together by bricks and mortar anymore! I had to see him the other day, just to give him back a few of his things and sign all the papers. I’d thought it would be good to clear the air a little. But it turned out to be like a kind of exit interview, you know, like when you leave a job? He kept telling me all the things I could have done better!’

  ‘I hope you made sure you gave him ample “360 degree feedback” in return,’ Holly said.

  ‘Oh I did! I can’t help still missing him a bit though. You know, there are just so many reminders of him everywhere I go. Ridiculous things! Like, a pop-up online advert turned up in my face the other day, for this anti-virus software he used to go on about. It reminded me of how I used to find it so chivalrous, the way he’d spend hours installing updates on my laptop, and programming my phone for me. Now I’ve got no one to do all those things. So I couldn’t help missing the little dweeb when I saw that – just a bit. And oh! Then the other day this big lorry drove by and stopped by me at a traffic light. As I walked past, the driver started singing the first song we ever kissed to!’

  ‘Weird. What was it?’ Holly asked.

  ‘Oh God. This really old track from the eighties, by Simple Minds, called “Don’t you forget about me”.’

  ‘Oh I love that track!’ Bella said, bursting into song, prompting stares from people nearby.

  ‘But it’s such an old track! That’s why it weirded me out so much that some random lorry driver was singing it, at that exact moment.’

  ‘Do you think it’s a sign’ Bella said, ‘that you shouldn’t forget him just yet?’

  ‘Is it fuck,’ Olivia said, taking a sip of her drink.

  Bella laughed. ‘I so know what you mean with the reminders though, Liv. Every other day, there’s something else to remind me of an in-joke with Sam.’

  ‘But you know, it’s easy to go too far with that stuff. You know, drag it out beyond the point of silly,’ Holly said. ‘For instance, do you remember Lucy, our flatmate from uni, when she broke up with Rob?’ she broke off as Olivia nodded in recognition. ‘He dumped her on graduation day, the poor lamb. While the rest of us posed for photos in our gowns, Lucy was hiding in a ditch behind the university library, weeping into her mortar board, slowly dismantling the visions in her head that she’d had of them going travelling, of moving to London, living out their careers together. From her ditch, she had sat and watched as her dreams scattered into the air with all the mortar-boards. Well, that’s how she put it to us after three gins later that day, anyway.’

  Bella’s eyes bega
n to well with empathy for this poor girl she’d never met. ‘Wow that’s a ceremonious stinker of a dumping!’

  ‘Exactly,’ Olivia said, ‘see, at least Sam didn’t do that to you!’

  Holly nodded. ‘But yeah – my point is, it was so terrible a dumping that even for weeks after it happened, we’d be like, “Do you want a cup of tea Lucy?” and she’d be all, “Oh, Rob used to make me cups of tea…” and start bawling again.’

  They all laughed.

  ‘Poor Lucy, she really did milk it, no pun intended.’

  ‘So yeah, to some extent you have to be a bit disciplined about this stuff,’ Olivia said. ‘You almost need a rule. Something like a “no mentioning their name more than five times a day… or, “no listening to songs that remind you of your ex” rule. Just til a certain time has passed.’

  ‘Sounds a bit regimented, surely?’ Bella said.

  ‘Ha! Liv invented regimented. She’s the most disciplined person I know!’ Holly chuckled.

  Olivia grinned with pride. ‘Everything in life is easier to deal with if it’s compartmentalised and under control!’

  ‘But – but – we can’t be that hard on ourselves straight away,’ Bella said. ‘Surely we’re allowed some wallowing time? For instance, I know I’ll probably fall apart when I see the first dandelion clock of the season.’

  ‘Why?’ Holly said.

  ‘Oh, there’s just this funny thing Sam used to do with them.’ Her eyes began to water.

  ‘What, tell the time?’ Holly said.

  ‘Well. Yes.’

  ‘Everyone does that, B. That’s not so special,’ Olivia said.

  Bella looked as though Olivia had just trampled all over her palatial sandcastle. ‘No they don’t. Not the way he did it. He used to pretend to be the speaking clock voice, and do the whole “time sponsored by Accurist” bit, like it used to say in the nineties. You had to be there.’

  ‘Evidently,’ Olivia said.

  ‘OK, Bella darling,’ Holly began. ‘I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’m going to say it in case it will help. Your Sam was a complete ARSE! I mean, he used to call you MISS PIGGY behind your back.’

  Bella snorted.

  ‘He didn’t!’ Olivia said. ‘So that’s where your Miss Piggy Complex comes from?’

  Holly stared at Bella and thought that, in spite of her dark brown hair, her round, symmetrical face bore an ever-so-small resemblance to Jim Henson’s most famous creation. And yet still there were some things you must absolutely never say to a person, and ‘you look a little bit like a brunette Miss Piggy’ was chief among them.

  ‘You absolute Muppet!’ Olivia punned, unwittingly. ‘Why would you put up with that?’

  ‘Blimey,’ Bella said. ‘Listen to us, whining on about our break-ups like a couple of miserable reprobates. We’re like some lonely hearts club, only without the band.’

  ‘Sad Bastards Anonymous, more like,’ Olivia suggested, smoothing out her hair, which had become crumpled from all the recent hugging. She began foraging for her handbag under the coat pile.

  ‘No…’ Holly said, ‘you guys are like some kind of bizarre break-up cult!’

  Bella’s eyes dilated with excitement. ‘Break-up Club, surely? That’s got a better ring to it? Yes! That’s what we are!’ Bella lurched forward, while Holly and Olivia exchanged looks of concern. ‘HAHAHAHaaaa!’ She clamped a hand over her mouth. ‘Um, has anyone got a tissue? I think I’ve just been a bit sick in my mouth,’ she mumbled through her fingers.

  ‘No,’ Olivia said, clearly disgusted, while Holly dug around in her bag for a tissue and handed it to Bella.

  ‘Ha! And that can be our strapline!’ Bella said through giggles, having wiped her mouth of anything offensive. She pulled out a moleskin notebook and began to jot things down in it. ‘The Break-up club..’

  ‘You cannot be serious,’ Holly said.

  ‘LOL. LOL,’ Olivia said.

  Everyone slowly turned to face her.

  ‘Liv. Did you just say “laugh out loud” – like, as an acronym?’ Holly asked,

  Olivia nodded. ‘I’m afraid the answer is yes. Yes I did.’

  Bella groaned. ‘Liv, you div. You can just laugh, you know. You don’t need to, like, declare the laugh.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I can’t help it. It’s Ross. He barely said whole words in all the time we were together. He spent so much time in those chat rooms! You’ll need to bear with me while his geek vernacular wears off.’

  ‘Anyway, we can always think up another strapline for the club,’ Bella said, deadpan.

  ‘You nut-nut; there isn’t really a club. We were just twatting about,’ Olivia said, looking at Holly. ‘Seriously, we’re not that unhinged.’

  ‘Yes, seriously, hon, we’ll be fine,’ Bella said, her eyes bloodshot, mascara all over her face, and snot congregating around her nostrils.

  ‘I don’t think you should be so quick to knock it, actually,’ Holly said.

  Bella squinted at her in confusion.

  ‘Yes. In fact, I was just thinking how it’s kind of serendipitous that you guys have coincided. It’s nice that you’re there for each other, to help each other through this difficult time.’

  ‘Next you’ll be saying you’re jealous,’ Olivia said.

  ‘Ha! No, you’re all right,’ Holly said, taking a large sip of her drink and accidentally finishing it.

  4. Habana

  ‘Ride horseback through the world heritage site of the Vinales Valley. Salsa through the streets of Trinidad, Cuba’s museum city….’

  Holly looked up from the ‘Havanatur’ leaflet and watched the travel agent, Cheryl, tapping away at her screen. Holly read on, beginning to swoon at the very idea of getting away. ‘Lose yourself in frenetic La Habana Vieja. Enjoy home-cooked cuisine in a cosy “Casa Particulare”. There’s more to Cuba than Communism and Cohibas…’

  ‘OK,’ interrupted Cheryl. ‘The cheapest thing I’ve got for you guys is with Iberia, change Madrid, for seven nine six including taxes and fuel surcharges. How about it?’

  Holly gulped. ‘Wow. It’s four months from now, and it’s that much already?’

  ‘Or can do you a nice package deal to Varadero, if you like, for let’s see – eight nine?’

  Holly turned to Lawrence. They both had the same policy on package holidays: a resounding ‘Hell, no.’ Holiday Reps were ‘for wimps from Wilmslow’ was Lawrence’s saying and he was sticking to it.

  ‘No, that’s OK, we’ll take the flight and play it by ear when we get there.’ Holly smiled at Lawrence, a scene playing in her mind of the two of them on a motorcycle, cruising up a highway lined with palm trees, whizzing past wild horses and tobacco plantations, her hair blowing in the wind, her arms clasped around him as he rounded corners at break-neck speed. Obviously, for the purposes of this daydream, Lawrence looked a lot more like Gael García Bernal than he did in reality.

  ‘OK, if you’re sure,’ said Cheryl. ‘Actually, you get in quite late from this flight, would you like me to book your first night’s accommodation?’

  ‘Makes sense – thanks,’ Holly said, looking at Lawrence, who was nodding.

  ‘Well, here’s one hotel we recommend. The Saratoga. A lot of our customers have loved it there.’

  Cheryl rotated her monitor to show a maroon webpage displaying a dreamlike wonderland straight out of a catalogue for Paradise. It was all gilded interiors, high ceilings and colonial architecture. There was even a lavish rooftop pool overlooking the whole of Havana. Basically, gulp.

  ‘Wow,’ Holly said, ‘that’s Havana heaven.’

  Lawrence squeezed her hand. ‘Imagine getting into that pool after a nine and a half hour flight. That’s not Havana, that’s Navana.’

  ‘Ick, Lawrence!’ shouted Holly. ‘Did you just pun?’

  ‘Yes. You’re right I did. I’m sorry, it was a proper stinker too; I just couldn’t hold it in.’

  Lawrence pretended to ‘fan’ the air around him, as if to rid the air of
the stench, while Cheryl looked on, bemused.

  ‘Sorry. How much is it per night?’ Holly asked.

  ‘200 convertible pesos. I’m not sure what that is in sterling at the moment.’

  ‘Let’s take it!’ Lawrence said. ‘It’s a poor country, isn’t it? Pesos probably aren’t worth much, are they?’

  Holly knew how ridiculous Lawrence sounded, but she just couldn’t take her eyes off the rooftop pool. ‘If you say so… It’s only one night anyway; we can rough it the rest of the time to make up for it.’

  ‘Smashing. So with the hotel included, the grand total comes to one seven nine fifty. Now, I will be needing the whole amount now on either a credit or debit card,’ she said, looking to Lawrence.

  ‘Wow. Flights to Paris for only £59.99!’ he said, staring at a poster on the wall. ‘That’s so much cheaper than Eurostar!’

  Holly shifted about in her seat. ‘One thing at a time, dear,’ she said in that way they sometimes did when they pretended they were an old married couple. Tentatively, she reached for her purse and dug out her credit card. ‘Anyway, I’m sure it’ll be more than that – see how it says “FROM” £59.99… that’s the trap to lure you in. Chances are, it’ll actually cost more like £159.99.’

  ‘Actually, the price is what it says it is,’ Cheryl added helpfully. ‘Sorry. I’ll just go and get the card machine.’ She smiled and then headed out into the back room.

  ‘So,’ Lawrence went on, ‘I’m just thinking, it might be good to book our tickets to Paris while we’re here. And maybe they can do us a special deal, since we’re spending so much already?’

  Holly felt a tiny knot form in her stomach.

  ‘Um, Lawrence, I already said, I’m not sure I want to go to the film festival. I thought you understood. Also, have you SEEN how much we’re about to spend? Sorry – I’m about to spend, since you can’t pay me back til next month? When for all I know I’ll be out of a job by the time we go?’

  ‘I know, Folly. And don’t think I’m not hugely, massively grateful, ’cause I really SO am! Don’t worry about the job stuff – I’ll help you come up with some ideas for shows. But I also just think it’s really important to spend money on something that might potentially help both our careers?’