‘Shall we go for a walk? I’d love to carry on talking to you, but everywhere is closing,’ Luke said, his face so close to Holly’s she could almost taste his Lynx.
And then they had the night. The night where you walk around a city for hours, talking inane rubbish and landing upon little details about each other, including the most important one of all – that your senses of humour are in perfect alignment.
Until hours later, when Luke broke the spell.
‘Shit, it’s 3 a.m., I should get home. I’m on screen tomorrow; if I don’t get some sleep you’re going to have one hell of a post-job to do on my dark circles.’
‘Oh, you’re so thoughtful,’ Holly said, trying to hide her disappointment, and secretly wishing he hadn’t been the first one to call it. ‘How are you getting back? Where do you even live?’ she asked, as though he had been magically wafted here from The Land of Perfect Men.
‘Primrose Hill. I’ll jump in a cab. You’re Tufnell Park right? Here’s a bus now!’
‘So it is,’ she said, wanting to sue TFL for delivering her a punctual 390 bus for the first time in her life.
‘Well. I’ve had a lovely night, thanks Luke.’
‘Thank you! Let’s do this again soon.’
‘Definitely,’ she said.
She looked into his eyes. The bus had pulled up now. People were piling on. The doors were about to close.
‘Well, see you at work,’ she said, giving him a hug, edging her face near to his, an awkward performance which ended with her dispatching a limp kiss on the cheek. Forcing a smile, she climbed aboard and swiped her Oyster card. She took a seat on the top deck, looking down at him, a small piece of her dying inside as the bus pulled away, the sound of drunk kebab-swigging men adding to her torture as they headed north.
She got her phone out to compose a BUC bulletin. ‘FUUUUUUCK! Most amazing night ever, but total and utter good-night-tumbleweed moment! I’m also shit at men! Gaaaahhhh!’ Just as she was scrolling down her address book to look for BUC members, she felt the phone buzz with a message. Who was texting her this late?
‘Hey. Wanted to kiss you then, but didn’t know if that’d be too much romance for you at the moment? If it isn’t, get off next stop? PTB x’
Blimey, she thought, fumbling a reply. ‘I think I can manage one kiss. Just. But where are you? I’ll try and get off x’
‘I’ll walk up. How far you got? x’
‘Not sure. Think I’m somewhere near the museum?’
‘I’ve just gone past that 101 bar – the one that looks like a naff bar on a ferry. Walking along New Oxford St?’
‘OK then. See you at Argos,’ she wrote, pressing Send all too fast.
‘Argos? REALLY?’ she shouted out loud, staring down at her phone. Oh well. You can’t always have a Tiffany’s when you need one, she reasoned, gathering up her things and teetering down the steps, trying not to go pelting to the bottom deck as the bus jerked along.
Alighting at the next stop, she felt her feet picking up pace, as if they had a full tank of lust bubbles propelling her to her target. Where was Argos? Had it moved? It seemed implausibly far away now. She scanned the rows of stores up ahead – a generic stationery shop, an indiscriminate camera supplies shop, the British Museum, All Bar One and bingo… Argos. What was ordinarily a cathedral of pike now beamed before her like a beacon of erotica. Finally she was going to kiss the man she’d been flirting with for months! At last, the moment was going to happen! Right here, outside the nation’s favourite budget home-furnishings store. And yet, how oddly clinical it was now that they’d both agreed, like a contract that, yes, they would kiss. She could see him up ahead. Kissing has been added to the agenda, she thought. It is written that we shall indeed kiss. She looked down to avoid seeing him too soon and combusting with anticipation. She began watching the scene play out in her head before she reached him. Will we run into each other’s arms for a full-on snog? she wondered. Will he sweep me up into a Dirty Dancing-style lift, followed by one of those Tango-esque Hollywood kisses where I do a massive back-bend, my hair sweeping the floor?
In fact what happened was they stood a metre apart and shifted their feet about.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know where your head was at. I should have just gone for it …’
‘No, you’re all right. It was sweet. Who’s PTB by the way?’
‘TV’s Phil the Barman?’
‘Oh of course!’ she laughed, thinking, oh right, so we’re just going to stand and chat then, after all that.
‘Yeah, I thought it might’ve been too soon for you, it’s not been long after you—’
‘You know what I think? I think you should stop talking,’ she said, interrupting him to pull his face towards her. Then they smooched by Argos for a full hour, barely stopping for air, their hands growing more intrepid with every kiss. Soon she wondered whether he was actually going to take her there and then, right in front of the window display for cut-price garden sheds and Dustbusters. But just before they got to that, he whispered, ‘Did you want to come back?’
‘I thought you’d never ask,’ she said, leaning in to kiss him again.
17. When the Night Meets the Morning Sun
‘What the blazes is wrong with you?’ Bella asked as Holly hobbled along the street. Now that they were all single, they had made the executive decision to update their wardrobes and were about to commence a large shopping spree.
‘Nothing.’
‘Yes there is! You’re walking like Pingu!’ Olivia said.
‘Piss off! I’ve got women’s issues.’
A victorious smile broke out on Holly’s face, and the girls turned to face her.
‘Do we need to stop for coffee?’ Bella said.
‘I think so!’
They headed into the nearest cafe, ordered drinks and sat down. Holly began to fill them in on the night, right up until the receiving of the World’s Most Romantic Text Message Ever™.
‘So then we went back to his flat, which, I might add, was bloody amazing. Incredible king size bed, skylight and a lovely old gramophone, which we danced to!’
‘I don’t want to know about his flat or the dancing, what about the sex?’ Bella said.
‘Oh, it was just amazing – really heightened somehow, like sex in HD! But the best part is, I feel certain I did the right thing about Lawrence.’
‘Oh that’s great. I’m so happy for you,’ Olivia said.
‘Of course, the only snag is, I’m in a world of pain now! I think we might have overdone it somewhat,’ she said, her face wilting in pain.
‘So you went from crush to thrush in 24 hours?’ Bella said, collapsing into snorts as the others shrieked with laughter.
‘Something like that…’ Holly said. ‘Ow. It even hurts to laugh. You know, now I think about it, I don’t think Lawrence and I were ever that connected during “business time”. For one thing, he never wanted to look into my eyes.’
‘Oh, you’ve got to have eye contact!’ Bella said. ‘First rule of Tantra!’
‘Luke looked me right in the eye.’ Holly continued as their coffees arrived. She took a sip and sighed. ‘I feel in a bit of a state of shock, too. Almost like I’ve been unfaithful, after five years with the same person! Ah, here’s the other one,’ Holly said, seeing Harry walk in.
‘Hello,’ he said, pulling up a chair from a neighbouring table of yummy mummies. ‘Christ, it’s like Pram-ageddon in here,’ he said a little too loudly.
‘How was football?’ Holly asked, kissing him on the cheek.
‘Don’t you how’s football me! How did it go with Lukey?’
‘Good,’ she nodded, her eyes twinkling.
‘Good? You’re glowing.’
‘There may have been some sexy-time.’
‘Fast work, Braithwaite, well done!’
She glowed some more as she filled him in on the night’s events, the highlight being their first kiss outside Argos.
‘Wow, you got off the bus. Never get off the
bus,’ Harry said.
‘What?’ Holly asked.
‘You see what he did there – he purposefully doesn’t make a move on her at the designated goodnight-kiss-moment – no, he waits until she thinks he’s not that interested, then lets her make the move by getting off the bus. A clear signal that she wants it, that she’s game.’
‘Wow. For a bloke you are reading FAR too much into this!’ Holly said.
‘He’s smooth! I like his style.’
‘Style? There was no style! Are you saying this is a move guys pull? No – he didn’t orchestrate it. It just happened. He was being sensitive, because he knows I’m not long out of things with Lawrence.’
‘Or, that’s what he wants you to think.’
‘Shit off.’
‘You slept with him didn’t you? See, he made you trust him.’
‘Bull. You’re just jealous because I’ve had sex and you haven’t.’
‘Piffle,’ Harry said, taking a massive bite of her cookie. And then he laughed; the kind of laugh he reserved for when he’d just thought of the most hilarious joke ever.
‘You know what, he’s ARGOS’ed you. Find it, get it, ARGOS it.’
Holly groaned. ‘Not everything’s a bloody advert Harry!’
‘Yes it is. Same as how everything to you is a bloody TV show!’
‘Touché.’
‘By the way, didn’t anyone ever tell you, never shit on your place of work?’
‘I repeat: jealous.’
‘No, in all seriousness. I think it’s great you’ve had some fun and all. But it’s a bit soon. Especially as you’ve kind of liked this guy for ages. I would just be a bit careful. I know how easily you fall for people.’
‘Joy-killer! But yes, of course, I’ll take it slowly. Anyway, we girls have some shopping to do … you coming?’
Harry shook his head. ‘Mmm. Tempting. But I have a kettle that needs descaling, soooo…’ he took the last bite of Holly’s cookie and walked away.
‘Ugh, I hate that boy sometimes.’
‘He’s just winding you up,’ Bella said. ‘That, and I reckon he’s secretly a bit in love with you.’
‘Don’t be absurd. We’re brother and sister.’
*
After an afternoon of shopping, having entirely restocked her wardrobe full of sexy, girl-about-town items of clothing for the summer, Holly was just about to climb into a bath filled with essential oils, soothing bubbles and excitement at all the possibilities that Life After Lawrence (avec LUKE) promised her, when her mobile beeped with a message.
‘Hi Hol. Thanks for a great night ;) Been thinking – what with it being work and all, it’s probably better if we just stay mates. You know what they say about not shitting on your workplace. Cool?’
18. Back in the Foetal Position
‘I mean, what the actual fuck!?’ she said to her laptop later that night, in between sobs, curled up in a ball on the edge of her bed. No one had been home, so she’d called an emergency Skype conference on her sellotaped-together laptop (luckily it still worked after being trampled on).
‘Wow. I really did not see that coming,’ Harry said on his mobile outside a crowded pub.
‘Piss off Harry. I’m not actually sure I want you on this call?’
‘Sorry. I was actually only teasing before. I didn’t think he’d be this much of a prick.’
‘Shit-sticks. He’s that guy,’ Bella said.
‘What guy?’
‘The Chase-a-girl-‘til-she-breaks-up-with-her-boyfriend-then-lose-interest guy.’
‘Oh. You think?’ Holly said as sickness migrated through her stomach to her knees.
‘Or… maybe he’s just gone LukeWarm,’ Harry said.
‘Get thee to a punnery!’ jibed Bella in disgust.
Holly glared at Harry’s avatar and wished bad things on him.
‘Sorry. Either way, he’s an absolute C-word for doing this to you. Also, he’s obviously a knob if he can’t see what a catch he’s just let go.’
But this just made Holly cry again. ‘I’m so stupid. To think I was getting excited, then feeling guilty, all because I was moving on from Lawrence already. And now I miss Lawrence even more! For all his faults, he never once made me feel this shitty.’
‘You know what this is?’ Harry said, ‘It’s a fuckwit sandwich! You’re the mangled bit of pastrami in between two fucktards.’
Holly laughed despite herself. ‘You know what this all reminds me of? One of those hot towels you get given after an Indian. At first, he was this wonderful break-up comfort – cleansing and fresh like a new beginning where everything’s going to be OK! But then straight away, just like the towel, he’s gone cold, and I’m feeling even more wretched than before. Yeah. That’s all Luke was to me. Just a sad, measly little hot towel.’
‘I can’t BEAR those creepy microwaved towels,’ Olivia said.
‘But we had tons in common! He grew up near me, we like the same Directors, the same bands—’
‘Let me just stop you there. I was thinking about this the other day,’ Harry said. ‘The way most relationships begin with a long list of likes and dislikes, and then gradually you fill in all the gaps… a bit like a Panini sticker album, until one day, you’ve had all the same experiences, and like all the same things. It’s as if we’ve got this underlying urge to create a carbon copy of ourselves in another human being.’
‘So it’s not so much dating as it is cloning,’ Olivia said.
‘Exactly. Same same, but different,’ Harry said.
‘Well,’ Olivia began, ‘I think in light of recent events that we need to add another BUC law.’
‘Good idea,’ Harry said.
‘How’s this for size,’ Holly began. ‘Rule Number Thirteen. Thou shalt not have rebound sex with an actor at work. However hot they are.’
‘Perfect,’ Harry said, ‘and I’d like to also suggest a new motion, to do with having a Notice Period.’
Everyone laughed.
‘I’m serious! It should be just like in a job. Depending on how long you’ve been involved with an ex, you need to serve your notice before you can start anything new. It’s quite simple: no new dalliances before your time period has lapsed. Thus preventing the unfortunate “double-whammy effect”, which poor Hol is having to endure now.’
‘Too right. I feel like I’ve been WINDED or something. No one should have to go through this. You know, if just one person after me can be saved by this rule, at least it will mean my suffering has not been in vain.’
‘OK. Agreed,’ Bella said.
‘How long should my notice period be?’
‘Well, what was your length of service to Lawrence?’
‘Five years,’ Holly said with a gulp.
‘I think about a month for each year you’ve served,’ Olivia suggested, ‘but maybe we can review your case and release you on good behaviour depending on how you’re getting on. That’s not to say you’ll be over him at all after five months. But it gives you time to get him out of your system before muddying the waters again.’
‘All right. But wait – this isn’t exactly fair is it? Harry was with Rachel for years, and yet he’s been online dating for a month now, sewing his wild oats around like some kind of exercise in sexual communism!’
‘HA! He’s like, Infidel Castro!’ Bella shouted.
‘Exactly!’ Holly said. ‘Plus Liv’s been shagging Jonny. So tell me again, why is it that I have to go it alone?’
‘The difference is simple,’ stated Harry. ‘Liv and I don’t get emotionally involved with ours. And I don’t see any of mine twice. The bigger issue, Holly, is that you seem to still be so emotionally hung up on Lawrence – and until you’ve had time to grieve for him properly, you should really wait to start anything else.’
‘Fine. I’ll start serving my notice. But for now, how do I stop feeling this bad?’
‘You need to Break the Pain Chain,’ Olivia said.
‘Wean yourself off ALL men. Serious
ly, NO MORE WILLIES, not even casual,’ Bella said. ‘Go cold turkey.’
‘Surely the phrase should be, go cold cock?’ Olivia said.
‘How will I do that, exactly?’ Holly said.
‘Get drunk. A lot,’ Harry said.
‘Go to art galleries and museums…’ Bella said.
‘I know what you need,’ Olivia said, ‘you need a pre-claim.’
‘A what?’
‘A pre-claim is like a reclaim. But rather than it being about you “taking back” a thing that’s been tainted by a dead relationship, it’s actually about claiming back an activity you used to do before they even came along; getting back a piece of you that went missing. You see, in bad relationships, you don’t realise you’re doing it, but you are letting little pieces of yourself go all the time. For example, before Ross I used to love cooking, but he always used to prefer ordering take-aways, so I stopped doing it so much while I was with him. Hey, that can be Rule Number Fourteen…’ she said, dispatching a self-satisfied smile.
‘Oh so that’s what all your militant baking’s been about then,’ Harry said.
‘Makes sense,’ Holly said, ‘except you’re forgetting one vital detail. I don’t do hobbies. I never have. My chief hobby of the last twenty-seven years has been, well, avoiding hobbies.’
‘What about trying to write your short film?’ Harry suggested.
‘I haven’t had time.’
‘Bollocks, Braithwaite. You just don’t believe you can do it. And I know you can! You were teacher’s pet in A-Level English, remember? Have you even read that book I gave you yet?’
Holly bit her nail. ‘Not yet, sorry.’
‘She’ll feel up to it soon; she’s just a bit broken at the moment,’ Bella said.
‘I was depressed last week – now, with this dumping on top? This here is a one-way ticket to Beachy Head.’
‘Holly, that is not funny,’ Olivia said. ‘Listen, at least you have a job right now. That’s something. Especially when we’re all about to endure some sort of “double-dip recession” thing.’
‘She’s right. They’re predicting redundancies in the financial sectors,’ Harry added, ‘which will no doubt have a ripple effect on other industries.’
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