A Hopeless Romantic. Harriet Evans

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      Laura gazed helplessly as videos, books, letters, all tumbled out of the box one after the other, disappearing into the dark. She’d never actually thrown a book away before, and she normally took her conked-out videotapes to the plastic recycling bin. It felt like sacrilege. ‘Oh,’ she said.

      ‘Mistake?’ said Mr Kenzo. ‘Oh dear. Were you – that was rubbish, wasn’t it? You did want to throw it away? Yes?’

      ‘Yes,’ said Laura, finishing the peach and slinging the peach stone in afterwards. She shut the bin lid and licked her fingers. ‘Yes, I did. Thanks, Mr Kenzo. See you later.’

      And she turned and walked up the path and up the stairs back to the flat. Another thing to check off the list. She was doing well. It was like having a New Year’s resolution, she thought. I will get over Dan and I will sort out my life. Also, I will go to the gym and have freshly squeezed fruit juices every morning before work. Well, little by little.

      The phone was ringing as she came back into the flat, and though she’d been avoiding the phone she instinctively picked it up. It was Jo.

      ‘Hi, babe,’ she said.

      ‘Er, hi,’ Laura answered uncertainly.

      ‘Look. I know it’s none of my business. But Paddy just rang me. He told me what happened.’

      Her voice was echoing, it reverberated down the line.

      ‘Oh,’ said Laura. ‘Right.’ She twisted the phone cord around her finger and sat down on the chair by the hall table. ‘Go on then,’ she said, not really knowing what to say, not wanting to sound rude, but not wanting to get into it. She really couldn’t cope with Jo if she was going to be sanctimonious and say, ‘I told you so.’

      ‘Well…’ Jo coughed. ‘I just wanted to say hi.’

      ‘Thanks,’ Laura said, fidgeting, feeling like a five-year-old.

      There was a pause, then Jo said in a rush, ‘Look. It’s none of my business. I’m not going to judge. You know what I think about it all. But I’ve been a really bad friend to you lately. And I’m sorry.’

      ‘You haven’t been a bad friend!’ Laura cried. ‘My god! I’m the one who’s been bad! How can you say that?’

      Jo’s voice was a bit muffled, but she chuckled and said, ‘Well it’s over now, isn’t it? Hey.’ She sniffed. ‘I really, really miss you, Laura. Can we – er, can we be friends again?’

      ‘Of course!’ said Laura. She hugged herself. ‘Oh, I’m so glad.’

      ‘Me too,’ said Jo. Her voice was quiet. ‘Look, I am really sorry. You poor thing. Are you OK?’

      ‘Well,’ said Laura, not wanting to sound pathetic. Then she said, ‘Actually, no, not really. But I will be.’

      ‘Can I – can I pop round?’

      Laura looked at her watch. It was only three o’clock. Jo should be at work. ‘Course,’ she said. ‘Where are you?’

      There was a knock on the door, three feet away from Laura. She jumped up in the air. ‘Argh!’ she cried.

      ‘It’s me,’ came Jo’s voice, from down the phone and outside at the same time. ‘Hello.’

      Laura opened the door. There was her best friend, standing in the doorway, her tiny frame dwarfed by her enormous backpack. She was holding some chocolates and a bottle of wine. She raised a hand and her eyes met Laura’s and she smiled.

      ‘Bunked off work,’ she said, rolling her eyes in the direction of the backpack crammed with papers on her back. ‘I – I wanted to see you,’ and she came forward, her arms outstretched, and gave Laura a hug.

      ‘Poor, poor baby,’ she said soothingly into Laura’s hair, and both of them were crying, not just for Laura’s predicament, but because girls are a bit pathetic like that. ‘Poor baby.’

      ‘Yes,’ sniffed Laura, wholly in agreement. ‘Thanks,’ she added. ‘You must think I’m a complete idiot.’

      ‘No I don’t,’ said Jo firmly. ‘Just – no, I don’t. He’s the idiot, isn’t he?’

      ‘Yeah!’ said Laura. ‘But – well, I have been really stupid. And the worst of it is, you were right,’ she said in a rush. ‘All along. You’re always saying it.’

      ‘Saying what?’

      ‘You know,’ said Laura, looking at the floor.

      Jo swung her bag onto the ground and said nothing.

      ‘Well,’ Laura said after a while. ‘Just – it’s not the first time. I should have learnt my lesson by now. I have. Just so you know.’

      ‘Sure, sure,’ Jo crooned, putting her arm around her friend. ‘Yes, of course you have.’

      ‘No, I mean it,’ said Laura firmly. ‘You sound like Paddy. I have. Well, you’ll just have to see. I’m a changed person. Anyway. Forget it.’ She eyed the bottle of wine. ‘Screw-top, yum. Come and get a glass.’

      ‘Great,’ said Jo. ‘So, tell me all about it. It happened on Friday, right?’

      ‘Right,’ said Laura, retreating into the kitchen. ‘So…’

      Laura suffered a setback on Wednesday. She knew she’d been doing so well, but it was hard being good and kind and

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