Page 32 of Meet Me in Berlin

Mum cracks the eggs into the pan, tossing the shells into the empty carton. ‘No break-up is easy, love. But if she’s not the one for you, it’s best she knows that sooner rather than later.’

‘I’m not sure I want to break up. I just don’t want to get married. We’re kind of settled in a way, with the flat and all.’

‘It’s just a flat,’ Mum says. ‘I know you love Notting Hill, but you can always stay here.’

‘Where?’ Chandice says. ‘On the floor in your office? I’m not sharing a room.’

I jump up and wrap my arms around her, tickling her ribs. ‘Oh, go on. It’ll be like we’re kids again.’

‘Get off,’ she squeals with laughter.

I go to pull away, but she grips my arms and holds me there, pressing the side of her face against mine. She smells like raw meat.

‘I’ll let you stay tonight if you want,’ she says. ‘You can tell me what’s gone wrong with your fancy piece.’

I kiss her cheek. ‘Maybe.’ I step over to Mum and lean against the kitchen counter. ‘I know you and Dad aren’t keen on Eva.’

‘That’s not true, darlin’. We like her enough; she’s just different from your other partners, is all.’ She tweaks my chin. ‘You’re a beautiful person and you deserve to be happy, yeah?’

‘What she said,’ Jaz says.

Mum pushes me towards the toaster. ‘Now, you’re on toast. Jazzy, you sort the table. Chandice, you make more tea.’

We all do as we’re told and then tuck into the fry-up, chatting about the week. It’s loud and chaotic and joyous. After the meal, Chandice disappears upstairs for a shower, Mum goes to do some invoices and Jaz and I tidy up before moving into the front room.

‘So, Berlin, hey?’ Jaz says, switching on a pedestal fan and slumping next to me on the sofa.

I nod. ‘Yep. Kind of couldn’t say no, even though Josanne pretended I had a choice.’

A grin spreads across Jaz’s face. ‘Uh-huh. The date’s coming up, isn’t it?’ She nudges my knee with her foot. ‘The date.’

‘Yeah, but … I don’t think it’s a good idea to go to that spot.’

‘But the park is right there, innit? Right near the gallery? I mean, you could just stop by. No harm done.’

‘Not sure I want to, because…’ I shrug. ‘Hurts.’

Jaz picks up her phone. ‘We have to look for Holly again. She was from Melbourne, yeah?’ She taps her phone screen. ‘I’ll check Instagram first.’

‘I’ve looked,’ I say. ‘Plus all the other social media sites.’

‘But people are always on and off socials, changing their usernames and pics and stuff. And you’ve not looked for ages, right?’ She scoots closer and shares her phone screen. ‘Recognise any of these?’

I squint. ‘There are a lot of Hollys right there.’

‘What about TikTok?’ Jaz opens the app and navigates to the search function.

We search different social media platforms, but who are we kidding that searching ‘Holly Melbourne’ will find her?

Chandice walks in, fresh from the shower, flops on the single recliner and flips up the leg rest.

‘What would I say if I found her, anyway? “Remember me? The one who followed you around an art gallery because you were so beautiful and shagged you for two weeks, told you fuck all about myself because I was trying to be mysterious and thought I was too cool for all that stuff. I knew you were completely in love with me and I was completely in love with you, but I felt overwhelmed and homesick, so I ran away, and by the time I got my head together and contacted you, your German phone number was dead.”’

Jaz grimaces and pulls her legs up onto the sofa. ‘Yeah, mate. I see your point. That’s tragic.’

‘Tragic, all right,’ Chandice says. ‘You’re a total saddo.’

I throw a cushion at her. ‘Shut it. You don’t even know what we’re talking about.’

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