Looking for Andrew McCarthy

‘Me and Loxy wouldn’t fail! We’d be fine! It’s just, I’d kind of hoped for amazing, not fine.’

‘When you first met Loxy you swore he was the most amazing thing that had ever happened to you.’

‘Yes, but that’s the same in every new relationship, isn’t it? It’s new person sex voodoo. I don’t think I wore pants for six months, and if I did wear them they were made out of polyurethane and feathers. But now … we’re just …’

‘Big pants,’ said Ellie suddenly.

‘What?’

‘You’re in the “big pants”, stage of your relationship. Okay, what pants are you wearing?’

Julia shrugged.

‘I’m wearing La Perla,’ said Siobhan.

‘Exactly,’ said Ellie. ‘You’re suddenly single, and you never know whether or not you’ll bump into John Cusack on the way home. I’m wearing special Marks and Sparks green pants, because if I buy white, black, pink or red, Big Bastard steals them off the washing line. Jules?’

Julia sighed. ‘Well, okay.’ She reluctantly tugged them over the waistband of her trousers.

‘Yeuch,’ said the other two simultaneously.

‘They are clean, thank you.’

But it was true that the outwardly fastidious Julia had a pair of massive saggy washed out grey knickers with a hole in them.

‘You’re just too comfortable. Your relationship has become a takeaway,’ Ellie said.

‘What?’

‘You remember when you started going out together? You used to lay the table? Light candles? Cook for him so you could pretend to be his mum and play house together? And now it’s just, sod it, let’s get a takeaway and eat it watching the TV and not talking to each other …’