Looking for Andrew McCarthy. Jenny Colgan

Bastard shrugged. ‘Who cares? Clothes are for girls.’

      ‘It wouldn’t be Ben Sherman by any chance would it?’

      He shrugged again, but his ears went slightly pink. ‘So what? ’S comfortable.’

      ‘And what about shoes? A little beige number perhaps? With connotations of being Big Masculine Woodcutters?? Okay, you bring back all your nongay friends with peanut brains to show each other your arses and worship Johnny Vaughn. We’ll see you later.’

      ‘I’m putting your rent up.’

      ‘I’m reporting you to the Inland Revenue for having an undeclared tenant.’

      He’d stomped out of the house snarling, although not before Arthur had arrived and maliciously called him duckie.

      ‘I can’t believe the way you turn into Graham Norton whenever you see Big Bastard,’ Ellie said, straightening out her fishnet tights.

      ‘That’s my militant side, sweetheart. It’ll do him good in the long run, you’ll see. Anyone with that much testosterone can’t possibly be straight anyway.’

      ‘Oh, he is. I know, because when he thinks I’m not looking, he touches himself when there are those girls on television who sing pop songs in their school uniform.’

      Ellie glanced into the mirror, smoothed down her black curly hair and removed some cashew nut debris from between her teeth. She always felt scruffy next to Arthur, who pretended that his immaculate appearance was a natural gift from God.

      ‘Deviant. Okay, what are we all here for? You never normally have us round here unless you’ve broken something.’

      ‘That’s not true,’ said Ellie. ‘What about that time I needed to borrow money?’

      Siobhan filed in warily.

      ‘You realize I left work early for this?’

      ‘Siobhan, it’s eight-thirty. Was there anyone else in the building?’

      ‘Just some people I know.’

      ‘Okay, how many non-security personnel were there apart from you?’

      Siobhan pouted and stretched out on Big Bastard’s chair, removing a half-eaten multi-pack of KitKats.

      ‘God, that flatmate of yours eats like a horse.’

      ‘Eats like a horse, farts like a horse and you don’t even want to know what it’s like when Carmel’s round.’

      ‘No I most certainly don’t,’ said Siobhan. She looked tired and drawn. ‘Patrick can’t make it. He’s working on some buyout. Or it’s his evening class. God that’s weird; I can’t even remember. Christ, I’m so knackered.’

      Ellie put a glass of wine in her hand.

      ‘Uh huh. I think I might have something that can cure that.’

      ‘Alcohol! Excellent!’

      ‘I thought you were never drinking again after we reached Kahlua,’ said Arthur.

      ‘I don’t remember saying that. Although to be fair, I don’t remember getting home.’

      ‘No. Not alcohol. It’s my fabulous and brilliant plan. But we’ll need to wait for everyone to arrive.’

      ‘Ehm, I told Colin he could come,’ said Arthur.

      ‘You didn’t. He’s so not in on the big plan.’

      ‘It’s alright, I’ll make him hand round the nibbles.’

      ‘Yeah, ’cause it’s illegal for him to serve spirits.’

      ‘Very funny. I’ll have you know that beneath that childish veneer there’s a very old soul.’

      ‘Fuck off!’

      ‘True. Well, old soul, good muscle definition – call it what you will.’

      ‘Sorry we’re late,’ said Loxy apologetically, sticking his head round the door. ‘I stopped to get Jules some flowers on the way home from work and missed my train.’

      ‘Bloody idiot,’ said Julia over his shoulder, putting down her suede handbag and kissing everyone within reach. ‘Hello, hello. Okay, what’s going on? And if it’s Monopoly, include me out.’

      ‘Okay, everyone,’ began Ellie.

      ‘Hang on,’ said Siobhan. ‘Annabel and George aren’t here.’

      ‘They’re too old for this plan.’

      ‘That’s not very fair. They’re the same age as us.’

      ‘I bet you,’ said Ellie severely, ‘one million squillion pounds that by the time we do this plan, Annabel will be up the duff anyway. Sproglets leaking from every orifice.’

      ‘What on earth is the plan?’

      ‘Okay,’ said Ellie again. She got up and went over to Big Bastard’s record player, where he’d filed all his Big Country albums, and put on her specially prepared eighties mix tape. There was a funny little African rhythm, then Pat Benatar began bellowing ‘Love is a Battlefield.’

      ‘Come with me,’ she started, ‘on a mystical journey back into the mists of time.’

      ‘And that’s pretty bloody misty,’ said Arthur.

      ‘To a time … when things were young and fresh.’

      ‘Hey everyone! Booyashaka!’

      Colin entered the room wearing sunglasses, despite the September rain outside. And the pitch dark.

      ‘Aha. Speaking of things that are young and fresh …’

      Colin noisily started to eat the cashew nuts whilst Julia got him some squash.

      ‘When things were harmonious and squabbling was unknown,’ Ellie continued.

      ‘We don’t squabble,’ said Arthur. ‘Colin, leave some of those cashew nuts for everyone else.’

      ‘But I like cashew nuts.’

      ‘Just put them down,’ said Loxy, wondering whether a show of supportive strength would impress Julia in any way.

      ‘It’s none of your business,’ said Julia, nudging him. ‘For Christ’s sake, shut up Loxy.’

      ‘See!’ said Ellie. ‘It’s Ikea all over again. Exactly what I’ve been talking about. The really stupid stresses of modern living are all too much. Which is why I propose …’

      The music had changed to ‘Broken Wings’ by Mister Mister.

      ‘We all take a trip.’

      ‘What kind of a trip?’

      ‘Please, not like when we all went to Cornwall and got lost and had to sleep in the car even when it was sleeting,’ said Arthur.

      ‘Better than that.’

      ‘My verrucca is better than that.’

      ‘My weekends are pretty booked up,’ said Siobhan. ‘I’m trying to book a slot to see my boyfriend.’

      ‘Oh please, what about that time we hired a canal boat for after finals?’ said Julia. ‘I’m still under a court order for that.’

      ‘That’s because you were the only one mature enough to sign the lease.’

      ‘No, it’s because the Hedgehog here was the only one mature enough to see if she could invent a new spin drying method by dragging all our clothes through the engine.’

      ‘That wasn’t it …’ started Ellie. ‘Okay, look, we’re getting off the point. We’re older now and if Caroline fucking Lafayette can hike across the Himalayas