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
