In this story, they go to a great big balloon depot in the sky – think TFL’s lost property bureau, only more magical. Maybe at the centre of it all is this one character, Engelbert, who’s been running it for years. He’s got big red cheeks from re-inflating all the balloons and then gradually returning them to their original owners, who are all grown up now as it takes him so long to find them. After a while, he gets a little bit disillusioned, because, while some of the kids are delighted and moved to tears, others are strangely aloof as they’re so disconnected from their childhood self.
That’s as far as I’ve got with it, Jez – possibly a bit bonkers but I wanted to run it past you. Look forward to hearing what you think either way,
Holly.
Jeremy.Philpott@TotesamazeProductions.com to
Holly.Braithwaite@TotesamazeProductions.com
Subject: Re: Possible series idea
Braithwaite,
Were you on helium when you wrote this?
I’ve got two words for you… ASDA MUMS.
Our current audience have a simple goal in life – either to be famous, or to be able to afford a timeshare apartment in Benidorm.
In other words, you’re aiming too high with this. Go LOWBROW. Think of the lowest common denominator you can, then go EVEN LOWER. What was it that Oscar Wilde said? Shoot for the gutter, and you might just end up in the drain.
Also – and this is fairly key – try and move away from fiction and into factual.
Better still, Reality.
Hope that helps.
Keep ’em comin. I’m having a meeting with the channel next week, so I need you and Pascal firing on all cylinders and all hands on deck!
Jx
P.S. I’ve mentioned this already but just a small reminder for your next episode of Prowl: there are a few more ad breaks to take into account than in terrestrial. (Yesterday’s ep. was exported over length AGAIN.) Let’s get this confusion ironed out for next time? Happiness?
P.P.S. NEVER apologise for emailing over the weekend.
Holly.Braithwaite@TotesamazeProductions.com to
[email protected]
Subject: Apple Z! APPLE Z!
Dear Mark,
Sorry, what I’m about to say is probably professional suicide. But… please can I have my old job back? I’ve made a gargantuan error and things are really not working out.
Love and big slices of humble pie,
Holly x
5. Unexpected Item in the Bagging Area
‘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.
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‘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?’
Break-Up Club Page 8
