can’t I come to America?’ said Colin crossly.
‘Because there’d be too many of us. And you don’t understand.’
‘I do understand.’
‘Okay then, complete this well known phrase … “Who you gonna call?”’
Colin shrugged. ‘The Samaritans?’
Ellie poked at her pancake. ‘Possibly. Look, Colin, you wouldn’t like it.’
‘I would.’
‘You wouldn’t. We’re not even going to Disneyland.’
Colin sat upright.
‘Really?’
‘Really we’re not.’
‘You’re bonkers.’
Ellie nodded as the others filed in looking reticent.
‘Look, guys! I have brochures!’
‘Ehm, yeah. Hedgehog.’
Arthur had spoken up first.
‘Look, I know you want to do this and you think it would be brilliant and I’m sure it would, but, you know Hedge …’
Ellie’s face fell. She supposed, on some level, this was inevitable. People never committed to things anymore, even your best friends. Especially not in London. She supposed if she lived in a former coal mining town in the North she’d go everywhere with the same crowd her whole life. And probably have more fun. Down in London if you didn’t have fifteen things crossed out every day in your palm pilot there was something wrong with you. Why was that?
She picked up a piece of toast.
‘But guys.’
‘Look, it’s just not practical,’ said Julia. ‘Everyone’s so busy, and rushing about so much.’
‘And I really can’t afford it. I’d have loved to come, really,’ said Arthur.
‘Oh, shit,’ said Ellie with a sigh.
‘I’d have liked to have come too,’ said Loxy. Julia gave him a look. ‘But we decided best not.’
‘I wanted to come,’ said Colin. ‘If we were going to Disneyland.’
‘But nothing’s going to happen,’ said Ellie. ‘This isn’t how Bob Geldof would have wanted it.’
She stared into space as the others ordered breakfast and coffee. An uncomfortable silence descended, and Arthur started fishing in the papers.
Suddenly, the door to Elms flew open. Standing there was a very pink and white ice-cold, shaking Siobhan. ‘Heh … He … he … hE,’ she spluttered. ‘He … he …’
Julia jumped up immediately. ‘What is it? Come over, sit down. What’s the matter?’
Arthur furnished her with a glass of water until she stopped hyperventilating.
‘He … he …’
‘Is it Patrick?’ asked Julia. Siobhan nodded vehemently.
‘Oh no! Have you split up?’
Siobhan nodded violently and indicated with her hands that there was more to it.
‘Oh God! He LEFT you?’
She nodded again and indicated more.
‘What a bastard!’ said Ellie.
‘He left you for someone ELSE?’
More nodding.
‘Twat,’ said Arthur.
Siobhan was valiantly indicating more.
‘He left you for someone … he was ALREADY SEEING?’
The nodding became more pronounced.
‘Arsehole!’ said Loxy. Siobhan began gesticulating wildly at the fourth finger of her left hand.
‘He ate all the HULA hoops?’ said Colin.
‘They’re getting married?’
Siobhan was practically yelping.
‘Cocksucking son of a BITCH,’ said Arthur. Siobhan hadn’t finished. She pointed desperately to her stomach.
Julia drew in a breath and went very, very quiet.
‘She’s … pregnant?’
Siobhan burst into enormous sobs.
‘CUNT,’ said Ellie.
They clung onto Siobhan as best they could until she could finally talk again, which was a long time, and a couple of emergency rounds of Bloody Marys, and lots of vicious and vengeful plotting and grimly muttered curses later. Eventually Siobhan quietened enough to hold up her hand a second. She fumbled about in her bag.
‘I’m going to get him,’ she snivelled. ‘So many ways. Starting here, with the only fucking thing he cares about.’
Gulping madly she held up Patrick’s gold card.
And with her other hand she drew out four return tickets to Los Angeles.
‘Oh, crap,’ said Colin sulkily, doing a quick head count.
‘… and I thought when we’re driving up through the desert we should stop and pick up hitchhikers.’
‘Sorry, did you just say hitchhikers or no hitchhikers?’ said Arthur, turning his picture of the Grand Canyon upside down.
‘Yes hitchhikers. You know – like Thelma and Louise.’
‘Or The Hitcher! I think I’m going to recommend No Hitchhikers.’
‘Oh, yeah. Hmm. Also, can we go to San José?’
‘Don’t start,’ Arthur grimaced. ‘Oh, okay. Are you appraised of the route?’
Ellie giggled.
‘I cannot wait till you lot fuckin’ disappear,’ said Big Bastard. He was slumped in his armchair, blithely chopping between sports channels, watching anything from ping pong to women’s gymnastics. Particularly women’s gymnastics. Outside it was pissing it down and the pictures of palm trees seemed more alluring than ever.
‘Where’s
