Bella smiled with pride as she narrated the rest of the happy tale. ‘I said that the film wasn’t actually for me, but I’d tell my friend about the BFI. And then I thanked him for mentioning it.’
Everyone turned in slow motion to face Bella.
‘You said what?’ Holly asked.
‘What?’ Then, a beat later, ‘Oh. You don’t suppose…’
‘Yes. He was asking you out. You absolute TOOL,’ Holly said.
‘I take it back. You are hopeless,’ Olivia said.
‘SHIT.’ Bella stared hopelessly at the film shop. ‘I could go in there again?’
‘No you can’t. You’ll look ridiculous,’ Harry said.
Bella sighed. ‘Who’d be me? Bollocks to all this! Maybe it’s all a sign that I’m not meant to be with anyone else but Sam? Dammit, I just want him back!’ She took out her phone and went to dial.
‘NO!’ they all said in unison, as Harry wrestled the phone out of Bella’s hands.
‘Come on. Let’s just go and get an overpriced cup of coffee and see if we can’t explain to you about how to talk to people of the opposite sex,’ Olivia said, leading them towards a Bohemian-looking French cafe.
‘Shall we sit over here in this little area?’ Holly suggested once inside, spotting that rarest of all things: a half-vacant table. They began to close in and loiter next to a group who were starting to gather their belongings. As they did, Holly could sense other people were also closing in around them. Soon a silent, subtle war was raging, but one which Olivia wasn’t about to lose. Eventually, the people left and Olivia strode in, splaying her bags and coats all over the seats triumphantly. Soon after, Harry appeared with coffees, as Bella was appropriating a fifth chair to put round the table. They then began the slow process of contorting themselves, their coats and bags into the tight space, in order to sit down without decapitating every other customer.
‘What is it about London?’ Olivia began. ‘A cafe this full in Manchester would be twice the size. I swear they design all the bars and cafes here with impossibly narrow interiors, specifically to make you feel more obese and cumbersome than you actually are.’
‘Oh my God this brownie is sensational! Try some!’ Bella said with her mouth full. She offered it to Olivia who shook her head and tried to get comfortable in the tiny seat.
‘I rather like this place,’ Holly said. ‘Good music.’
Harry nodded and tapped his foot along to Nina Simone while watching the skinny-jean army queuing for coffee. ‘You know, I once heard a story about a girl at a picnic whose skinny jeans were so tight, she actually ripped a tendon in her knee when she tried to get up off the grass.’
Holly laughed. ‘Brilliant! Hey, maybe there could be a documentary in this after all?’ She grabbed her notebook, which was now almost half full, and wrote down on a fresh page, ‘Skinny-Jean Army’. Just then the track changed, and a familiar song started up. ‘Oh, for the love of shit. I mean, what are the chances!’
‘What is it?’ Olivia said.
‘I’ll handle this,’ Bella said, standing up. ‘They’re playing “Private Universe”, a prehistoric song by Crowded House,’ she whispered to the others, ‘Holly and Lawrence’s song.’
Holly nodded, the tears pressing at the edges of her eyes as the ‘I will run for shelter’ chorus kicked in. Instantly, she was teleported back to Lawrence’s old bedroom in St Ives, when he’d first played this to her on the guitar. Just as Holly felt herself sink into another wallowing abyss, the music came to an abrupt stop. She looked up to see Bella talking to one of the waiters.
‘Aw. She’s a good friend,’ Holly said. ‘I don’t know anyone else who would have the cheek to complain about music, do you?’
Bella returned and Holly gave her a hug.
‘You’re welcome. Music’s unwelcome time-travel sometimes, isn’t it?’
Holly nodded and smiled as the track changed to something else.
‘You never close your eyes… anymore… when I kiss your lips.’
She looked across the table at the others. ‘REALLY? The Righteous Brothers? “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling”?’
‘Oh well, honey, I tried,’ Bella said, erupting into giggles.
‘I know you did, and I thank you for it.’
Holly laughed at the ludicrousness of it all and stood up, squeezing her chair back. ‘Sorry guys. I’m going to sit this one out. Harry, look after my bag for me?’
‘Sure,’ he said. Watching her walk away, and checking none of the others were looking, Harry shoved an oblong, wrapped-up parcel deep down into the bottom of the shoulder bag.
Once inside the four small walls of the toilet cubicle, Holly noticed a peculiar transition: from boozy cacophonous cafe buzzing with mates and shiny people, to a solitary, silent, graffiti-lined hole. Suddenly, the aloneness was deafening, as was the reality of a life without Lawrence. Laughter was only metres away but, right now, she was affronted by her own overwhelming solitude. She quickly did what she needed to do, and ran back out to her musketeers.
‘OK, guys, just so you know. From now on, I’m incapable of being by myself, even for five minutes.’
‘You’re not alone, sweetie,’ Bella said. ‘You’ve got us!’
‘Yeah,’ Harry said. ‘You can hang around me 24-7 if you like, I really won’t mind. Be my lapdog.’
Holly laughed.
‘You don’t need to be alone again, ever. OK?’ Harry said.
‘Thank you guys. Sorry I’m such a massive loser. I’ll be fine soon.’
‘Course you will,’ Olivia said.
*
Later that night, Holly was unpacking her bag from the day when she noticed a surprise parcel inside it. Sat with her legs crossed on her bed, she tore open the wrapping paper to reveal the words Story by Robert McKee. She smiled as the huge tome of a book fell open onto one of the first few pages, where a message was inscribed in spidery handwriting.
Holface,
Don’t worry, I’m not about to write ‘follow your dreams’ or anything dreadful like that, but this is just something to say thank you so much for your help the other day in the flat. And also that, I know you can’t see this right now, but you’re going to be fine.
In the meantime, this is something that might help. It’s THE book that screenwriters swear by.
Sod all this nonsense about coming up with more shit telly ideas. You’re just building yourself another prison for the next six months. Brick by fake-tanned brick! At the risk of going all preachy on you, I think you should set your sights on editing something DECENT.
You’ve been saying for so long that you’d love to edit a feature or TV drama. So why don’t you write your way into one? I know you have it in you. Or at least, start with the short?
You think you need Lawrence to help write you this script, but you’re wrong.
Have a read – it’s heavy-going in places but stick with it! Then, write your way to Hollywood.
(Actually, make it Pinewood. I’d miss you too much.)
All my love, H x
Holly took out her phone and dialled, even though she knew he would be out with his mates.
‘Harry,’ she said to his Voicemail, ‘I’m sitting here with tears all down my face. Thank you. That was so lovely. In fact, it’s far sweeter than any gift Lawrence ever got me. Thank you! I’m totally going to read it from cover to cover! Love you, bye.’
She put the present on her shelf, on top of a pile of other dusty books that were waiting to be read, and climbed straight into bed, passing out as soon as her head hit the pillow, and just before her phone buzzed with an incoming email.
Jeremy.Philpott@TotesamazeProductions.com to
Holly.Braithwaite@TotesamazeProductions.com
Subject: Re: Skinny-Jean Army – a Proposal
Love it.
As a reality show though, not doc.
Tendon thing a hoot.
It’s on the list.
If I’m honest, I don’t love it a
s much as BUC though, so that’s still there to be beaten. Obv.
Happy hunting,
J.
14. Bang and the Pain is Gone
‘I’m Barry Scott!’ Harry hollered the next morning, pointing a lurid pink spray-bottle at Holly. Then he turned his attention back to the kitchen units, dousing them in more detergent.
‘Bang! And the dirt is gone!’ she said, spraying another dose of Cillit Bang over the taps in the kitchen, and giving them a good wipe down.
‘Correct!’ shouted Harry. Being a ‘Planner’ in an advertising agency, he was so well-versed in advertising slogans that sometimes conversations with him felt like being on a low-budget game-show. Holly surveyed the surfaces in the kitchen, which were now unrecognisable from how they’d looked six hours ago.
‘Wow, you’ve given Mr Muscle a run for his money, never mind Barry Scott.’
‘Crikey!’ Bella said, walking into the kitchen, looking miserable. ‘This place is cleaner than when we first moved in! Harry, you have MORE than earned your sofa-surfing keep now!’ She headed into the kitchen to put a sachet of popcorn – the first meal of the day – into the microwave. Then she hobbled over to the sofa, spread herself across it and turned on the EastEnders omnibus.
Harry, meanwhile, pulled out a bottle of bleach and held it aloft like it was the answer to all his problems, before taking the lid off it.
‘Nice one, Harry. I’d help you out but I’ve got a steaming hangover; I’d only hold you back.’
Three minutes later, the microwave pinged and Bella cast a whimpering look towards the others. ‘Sorry to ask but could one of you please pass me that? I’ve just got comfy.’
‘I thought you’d been banned from that stuff?’ Holly said as she handed her the bag.
‘She had to actually go to the dentist with an emergency toothache the other day,’ Holly explained to Harry. ‘It turned out to be a bit of husk wedged between her molars that had started to decompose. How gross is that?’
Bella nodded, her mouth full. ‘The dentist couldn’t get it out – said it has to come out naturally. I still can’t stop eating them though.’
‘Even when it’s actually affecting your health? Christ, you’re like a smoker with a hole in the neck!’ Holly said, turning around to look for Harry. She found him on the balcony, holding a bottle of window cleaner and scanning the area around him.
‘Wait, you’re cleaning the windows now? Seriously, it’s time to stop. You’ve done enough. How about we go for some brunch?’ she said, looking at him with concern.
‘But I’ve not finished disinfecting everywhere yet.’
‘Seriously, Harry Poppins,’ she said, feeling her hunger anger creep in. ‘Our house has gone up in value. Step away from the mop bucket.’ Then, a beat later she added softly, ‘It’s not going to bring her back.’ Holly placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. ‘Come on. The bottle.’
Begrudgingly he handed it to her.
‘I just really fucking miss her.’
‘I know,’ she said as her phone beeped with a message.
‘Oh, cool. Liv’s at The Breakfast Club and is suggesting starting this week’s meeting early.’
‘Oh, yum, The Breakfast Club!’ Bella said, peeling the blanket off her and getting up off the sofa.
‘I thought you’d eaten?’
‘There’s always room for breakfast dessert.’
‘How about it, Harry? A meeting might be the perfect thing for you right now?’
‘Listening to three other fuck-ups going on. Mmm, let’s see,’ he said, scrolling down his contact list in his phone. ‘No, that’s right, all my other friends are married with kids. OK, you’ve got me.’
‘Admit it, you love it really,’ Holly said.
Harry smiled and stared after her as she walked down the stairs. A moment later, he followed them out.
When they arrived, Rick Astley was on the jukebox, while Olivia was nestling in a booth surrounded by eighties nostalgia – from Kylie record sleeves to John Hughes movie posters – and drinking a luminescent smoothie.
‘Don’t you love this place?’ Bella said as they all squeezed into the booth. ‘I think we should make it the BUC headquarters. The name’s basically the same, and it’s just so cheery and nostalgic. It reminds me of being a kid! Of the halcyon days when we could wear Global Hypercolour T-shirts, buy Chewits for ten pence and kiss boys with the carefree zeal of someone who has yet to have their heart ripped out through their arse,’ she said, her eyes filling with water as her voice rose in volume.
‘OK, what’s happened?’ Holly said.
Bella wore the sunken face of an addict who had fallen off the wagon. ‘I’ve only gone and done a relapse.’
‘A what?’
‘I accidentally had break-up sex with Sam last night.’
‘And you’ve only just said something now?’
Bella nodded. ‘Why do you think I was compulsive corning again? Look, I know it was wrong, but it was fucking tremendous.’ She acquired a dreamy look in her eye. ‘LITERALLY, tremendous fucking…’
‘Wait. And we let this happen how?’ Olivia put to the others, as though they were all to blame for letting slip of Bella’s chastity belt.
‘Hey, it’s no one’s fault but mine. I am weak. We were just meant to hang out at his, watch a movie, but it just didn’t really work out that way.’
Holly rolled her eyes. ‘Wait, after we left Hackney? You said you were going round to a FRIEND’S house? You sneaky fucker!’
‘But we ARE friends. And my self-esteem was subterranean after AdamGate. And break-up sex is HOT. And, and I know he still loves me!’
‘He’s using you, that’s what. He’s confused, and he’s using you for sex,’ Harry said as a chirpy Australian waitress came over to take their order.
‘You really need to stop contacting him,’ Olivia said moments later. ‘It’s not fair on you that he keeps ringing. He knows you’re weak and that you’ll see him. It’s contravening about five BUC rules, too. Not least Rule Number Six – full deletion!’
‘I know! But when he keeps changing his mind and saying he thinks he made a mistake, what am I meant to do? Where’s the rule for that?’
‘Next time he gets in touch, just don’t engage with it,’ Holly said.
‘Yes. New Rule. Number 12 – DON’T ENGAGE,’ Olivia repeated as though it was now officially added to the Constitution.
‘I can’t get over him though. He’s a hi-vis cyclist! Every time I think I’m starting to forget about him, I see a guy zoom past me in a hi-vis jacket. And every time, I think it’s him, and then when he gets that bit closer and it’s NOT Sam, a little piece of me dies. Is it too early to start drinking please?’
‘It is never too early,’ Harry said.
‘Then let’s upgrade these smoothies. Who’s going to join me for a cocktail?’ Bella said, looking down the menu.
‘Good idea,’ Holly said, not sure if it was. ‘So anyway, boys and girls, I have something to add to this week’s “agenda”,’ she said, miming speech marks.
‘Go on,’ Olivia said.
‘I have a question about Rule Number Six. So, I’m still friends with a whole bunch of Lawrence’s mates. They’re all really nice. I still get their updates on my feed. What’s the protocol, am I meant to delete them all too? Should I be deleting all of St Ives?’
‘If you want a clean slate,’ Harry said.
‘Do I need to message them and let them know?’’
‘NO!’ shouted Olivia. ‘You mentalist! You just go quietly, like you’re slipping away early at a party. Friends of exes are all the part of the baggage we have to shed as we go along. Dating’s just like cooking really. Clean as you go.’
Holly gulped.
‘So, that’s Bella and Holly touched on,’ Olivia said, ‘how is our very important male member? Are you doing OK?’
Harry took a long slurp on the last of his drink. ‘Aye. I’m putting one foot in front of the other. The thing I’m
finding really hard? Life’s silly moments. Like when I see something a bit bonkers-nuts while I’m out and about – like a girl cycling along while towing a suitcase on wheels – I see that, and I know it would make her laugh. That’s when I really wish I could ring her!’
‘I’m with Harry,’ chimed Holly. ‘I miss having someone to share my funnies with.’
‘We’re those people now,’ Bella said. ‘And we’re the ones you call at the end of the day if you want a good-night chat to replace those hour-long ones you’re used to having.’
‘Oh God yes. I am really missing the long phone calls,’ Holly said.
‘But then, isn’t it insane how much of your day got used up, just being on the phone to a boyfriend?’ Olivia said.
‘It’s true. Was that really such a good use of time anyway?’
‘No. You’re right. Break-ups are THE GIFT OF TIME!’ Bella said as though it was an epiphany.
‘Yes. Let’s all start using the time to DO the creative things we always wanted to do! The stuff we never did because our relationships kept getting in the way. Come on then, everyone say one thing now that comes to mind,’ Olivia said.
‘I want to edit a feature film. Or I’ll take a short – that would do…’ Holly said, her eyes interlocking with Harry’s.
‘I want to put out an album,’ Bella said. ‘An actual one. Not just a page on SoundCloud that four people in Reykjavik listen to.’
‘I want to figure out how to get this girl at work to sleep with me.’
‘Realistic goals, people,’ Olivia said.
‘Yeah Harry, creative ways to seduce people doesn’t count! You must have a creative thing you want to do?’ Bella said.
‘Don’t know.’ Harry looked down at his Converses. ‘I guess I’ve always wanted to write a novel.’ Then he shook his head as though it was piffle.
‘And I’ve always wanted to set up a small quiche business.’
Everyone turned to face Olivia.
‘Where the jeebus did that come from?’ Bella said.
‘What? Everyone’s got a thing – that’s mine! I secretly like to bake quiche. If I wasn’t a lawyer, that’d be my alternate career. I find it incredibly therapeutic cooking them for people. I’ll prove it by baking you some for the next meeting.’
Break-Up Club Page 18
