Looking for Andrew McCarthy

The Breakfast Club

The computers were down again at Julia’s office. It was Friday, so she certainly deserved to be kicking back, she thought, kicking back.

‘Aren’t you even thinking about it?’ she said to Arthur, toying with her phone card.

‘God yeah,’ said Arthur. ‘I’ve always wanted to go to San Francisco. I don’t feel my cowboy hat has had quite the adventures it deserves.’

‘Yeah, right. And also of course you’re the most boring monogamous man in the world.’

Arthur liked to think of himself as the dashing gay blade around town as opposed to someone who got endless crushes on people and treated them really, really nicely for ages. Especially Colin, who still lived with his parents.

‘I am not!’

‘How long have you been seeing the puppy now?’

‘Six months. But I don’t love him or anything. I’m footloose and fancy free. I’d be very fancy free in San Francisco. If I could afford it. But, you know, I’ve put the deposit on the Eames chair.’

Arthur lived in a minuscule studio filled with beautiful things he saved up for very, very slowly.

‘Yeah, right. Coward. I don’t really want to go. It’s an awful lot of holiday time for one of Ellie’s scheme-stroke-nightmare-o-ramas.’

‘Oh, come on. You’ve never been to LA. You must want to at least see it?’

‘A town entirely devoted to the worship of enormous plastic tits? Not especially. Anyway, it’s the most racist country in the world. Loxy probably wouldn’t make it past immigration.’

Loxy’s family was from Ghana.

‘Come without him. We could have a proper girly holiday.’

‘Hmm,’ said Julia. ‘Yeah, you and Hedgehog tart it about and I hold your coats. No thanks.’

‘How’s the Hedgehog? Still in gloom?’

‘She’s okay. I suggested she go travelling on her own and she said why didn’t I become new best friends with Caroline Snotface Lafayette.’

‘Hmm. Well, Siobhan phoned me again and said she would go if we were going for a proper holiday but under no circumstances was she looking for anyone. Except Patrick of course.’

They both sighed.

‘I wouldn’t mind if it weren’t just such a fucking stupid idea,’ said Julia.

‘I know. George Clooney I could have understood.’

‘Ohp, hang on. I’ve got e-mail. I bet it’s from her.’

She clicked.

‘Yup, it is. Oh, and it’s a circular – you’re on the list too. You’d better look and check it out.’

The line went quiet as they read the mail.

From: e.eversholt@rooney&co.co.uk

To: Julia; Arthur; Siobhan

Re: Official ‘Let’s Go On a Wonderful Trip and Put the Joy

Back Into Our Lives,’ planning meeting to be held at Elms,

11am Sunday morning.

Dear Guys

Think about it: we’re the generation that created Live Aid and now we have to pay Tesco to deliver our marmalade. Get your leave of absence forms today. Can you fucking believe you even have to get a form to have any tiny bit of life whatsoever? One tiny pathetic little month in forty years of grind? Can you believe that someone is actually paid to design those forms? How depressed does that make you about modern life? Remember: everybody wants to rule the world.

ISN’T FUN THE BEST THING TO HAVE?

See you there,

H.xx

For the last three years, Elms on a Sunday morning had been the traditional meeting place for pancakes and hungover gossip.

‘She’s HIJACKING us!’ said Julia.

‘At the moment, I could …’

‘Oh, hang on, I’ve got a call on the other line. Hi? Yes, we both have. Hang on. Arthur, it’s Siobhan. I’ll phone you back.’

‘You’re call waiting me? What, you like Siobhan more than me?’

‘Goodbye Arthur.’

‘I can’t belie …’

‘She’s hijacking us!’ barked Siobhan. ‘If we all turn up, the next thing you know we’ll be on some terrible jumbo jet, then it’ll crash and they’ll have to identify us by our toes.’

‘I know. I know. We could go somewhere else, you know. We could all meet in the Mexican place next door and she could come and join us when she’s come to her senses.’

‘Tacos at eleven in the morning? That’s even grosser than leaving our jobs to spend a month looking for some sad out-of-work actor guy.’

‘I like Mexican food. It reminds me of baby food.’

‘Yeah, in that it’s already been filtered through somebody else.’

‘Oh God,’ said Julia. ‘She’ll get out of this, I’m sure. Something will come up to distract her.’

‘Can’t you wave something shiny in front of her?’

‘Maybe she should join S Club 7. They’re always up to shit like this. Did you mention it to Patrick?’

‘I left a note on the fridge. Same thing.’

‘Uh huh.’

‘Is Arthur going?’

‘He wants to go camping.’

‘Whereabouts? The Grand Canyon?’

‘Um, not that kind of camping.’

‘Oh. Well, good luck to him. If it’s the Hedgehog he’s going with I’m sure he’ll get to meet lots of big beefy policemen. Are you going to sort out Sunday?’

‘I suppose,’ said Julia, sighing. Siobhan hung up.

‘I only stayed on the line so I could hang up as soon as you came back on,’ said Arthur. ‘Bye.’

Julia came off the phone feeling rather disgruntled with her friends. Not, however, as disgruntled as Ellie was at that precise moment.

‘I will go,’ Ellie had told herself, ‘and very coolly inform bathead Rooney that I have plans and he’ll be fine.’

She scratched at her legs. She’d been reduced to pop socks. This isn’t school. Why did everything feel like school?

And now, here she was. Not making a lot of headway with the leave, but en route to getting herself a detention.

‘But …’

‘I’m talking, Ms Eversholt. And of course there’s no question of you taking a month off; that’s our budget month.’

‘But I’ll take it as leave,’ Ellie said sullenly.

‘Yes, well the only way you could take it as leave is if you worked Christmas days for the rest of your life.’

‘I’ll do that. I hate Christmas anyway. Me and my dad just get pissed and grumble at the TV, and I have to make brussels sprouts even though neither of us will eat them.’

‘Well I’m sorry about your frankly dismal-sounding holiday period, but that doesn’t mean I can just let you disappear for a month.’ Mr Rooney stood up, to indicate the end of their meeting.

Ellie stood her ground in silence.

‘Was that everything?’

‘Well, I don’t see why I shouldn’t be able to take it as unpaid …’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake. Which particular bit of “no, definitely not, no way, sorry and go away and leave me alone,” didn’t you understand?’

‘Hypothetically speaking,’ said Ellie, ‘what would happen if someone sorted out cover for all their work and left on unpaid leave for a month?’

‘Hypothetically speaking,’ said Mr Rooney, ‘they wouldn’t have a job to come back to.’

‘That’s hypothetically very interesting.’

‘No, that’s actually very interesting, and I’d recommend it be noted.’

On Sunday morning, Julia and Loxy strode down Battersea Rise towards Elms carrying their own bodyweight in newsprint.

‘This isn’t going to be fun,’ Julia mused. ‘I mean, I’m sorry she had a bad birthday and everything, but I don’t think this trip is going to work out and I don’t want to have a row.’

‘The two of us don’t really row, do we?’ asked Loxy thoughtfully.

Julia looked at him sideways. ‘So … ?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Fine, then.’ Julia spotted Arthur coming from the opposite direction and waved him over. Colin trotted on ahead into the bar. He was wearing a baseball jacket and a cap with stars and stripes on it.

‘You forgot to lock the gate behind you again, didn’t you?’

‘It’s not my fault the paper boy forgot to add in the Funday Times.’

‘I thought Colin was the paper boy.’

‘Ha ha.’

‘Aha, it’s the annoying little brother I never had,’ said Ellie as Colin entered. She was leafing through an enormous pile of travel brochures and eating pancakes with one hand.

Ellie didn’t mean to be so short with Colin. She realized that in fact, these days, almost anyone younger than her doing anything at all pissed her off. Surely anyone younger than her should still be doing English comprehension tests and appearing on Young Musician of the Year, and certainly shouldn’t be working for a living or having opinions or driving cars and things. If Ellie was elected as an MP (an unlikely occurrence), she wouldn’t even be the youngest MP in the House of Commons. She thought about this a lot.

‘Where’s Arthur?’

Colin shrugged and twisted.

‘He said he was going to see a man about a dog … I think he might be buying me a puppy for Christmas.’

‘Colin, you live with your parents and their house is really small. Where would the dog live?’

He shrugged. ‘In a drawer maybe. Puppies aren’t big.’

‘Okay, so if under any circumstances you can conceive of Arthur not wanting to buy you a dog, do you have any idea where else he might have gone?’

He shrugged again. ‘And I saw Julia up the hill.’

‘Oh, right.’

‘Why 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.

The Sure Thing

‘… 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 Siobhan tonight?’ asked Julia, lying on the carpet under Loxy’s big arm, licking the top off a French Fancy.

That morning in the restaurant, Siobhan had handed over the tickets then stood up saying, ‘I don’t care if you use them or not. I don’t care if you chuck them in the bin. Just can everyone stop talking about how pettily miserable they are all the time and fucking do something about it? Then those of us who truly are miserable can get on with it in peace and quiet.’

Ellie looked up. ‘She’s keying his Suzuki jeep. In stripes.’

‘I still can’t believe it,’ said Julia. Big Bastard snorted loudly.

‘Oh, have you got some useful emotional insight to bring to bear on the situation?’ asked Ellie. Big Bastard turned round and opened his enormous meaty paws.