The Rules of Break-up Club – ‘To our members, we’re the first emergency service’.

      #1 – The first rule of Break-up Club is, you do not talk about Break-up Club.

      #2 – The second rule of Break-up Club is, you do not talk about Break-up Club with your ex.

      #3 – If this is your first night at Break-up Club, you will be expected to cry.

      Uncontrollably.

      #4 – Meetings take place once a week, every Sunday.

      #5 – Each member must be prepared to perform Initiation (otherwise known as Brunch Duty). You shall deliver croissants and a smile to the residence of a new recruit on their First Weekend As A Singleton.

      #6 – No Face-Stalking. Exes should be de-friended no later than 48 hours after a break-up. Phone numbers should be deleted or re-saved under the name ‘Don’t Answer’.

      #7 – Members must be prepared to drop everything in the event of a Crisis Meeting. Common triggers range from a member relapsing with an ex, to an outbreak of F.I.H. (Facebook-Induced Hysteria).

      #8 – Members must be willing to accept phone calls from co-members at any time of day or night, and talk them down from the bridge.

      #9 – Hook-ups between co-members are strictly prohibited.

      #10 – For their own protection, members must respect the N.G.Z. (No-Go Zones) imposed by a break-up. N.G.Z.s fall into three categories – Locational, Musical and Gifting. However, your ex does not have long-term sole custody of Bob Dylan or Streatham Hill, and a time will come when you’ll be able to assert the first major bastion of Break-up Club (BUC) law: The Reclaim.

      #11 – Understand the two absolutes of break-ups:

      i) Eventually, you will be OK. You will recover.

      ii) You absolutely cannot imagine ever feeling OK again. Ever.

       Signed: Bella, Olivia, Harry

      249A Fortess Road, Tufnell Park, London.

      *

      ‘Go on then,’ Bella said, holding an old-fashioned fountain pen up to Holly’s face.

      Holly stared at the pen, watching it go in and out of focus, her eyes thick with tears. Everyone was staring. It was not unlike being back on the school playground. She was half expecting a football to come and thwack her round the head. She looked down at the epic list of rules and wondered how it had all come to this. What was next? Laminated membership cards? A ten per cent loyalty discount at Thornton’s?

      ‘Yeah, Folly, sign,’ Olivia said. ‘What are you waiting for?’

      ‘Please don’t call me Folly. Lawrence calls me that.’

      ‘Called you that,’ Olivia corrected.

      ‘C’mon Holly. Let’s face it now, the only way is up!’ Bella sang while doing a move that wouldn’t have been out of place on Top of the Pops circa 1990.

      Maybe they had a point. Holly wiped her green eyes for the tenth time that day and reviewed the evidence. She had only slept three nights out of the last twelve. Currently, her top three activities were: binge-drinking, insomnia and unabashed howling on public transport. And, these days, the face that stared back at her in the mirror was none other than the bastard sister of Freddy Kruger.

      Olivia held out a plate of baklava. Holly recoiled, feeling a bunch of moths practising the high jump in her belly.

      ‘Christ no. Nothing against Harringay’s finest delicacy, I’m just not really doing food at the moment.’

      No one commented, but it was obvious what they were all thinking. Things must be bad if Braithwaite was off her food.

      Oh no you don’t, she thought as her eyes welled up again – the tear jar is full today.

      Bella put her arm around her. ‘Let it out, Hol. That’s what we’re here for.’

      ‘But that’s all I’ve done today. Cry. Blow my nose. Watch American teen dramas.