Page 21 of When We Were Friends
‘I’m a cashier. Priorities changed when I had Olly.’
‘As they should do. But he’s eighteen now, isn’t he, an adult? I didn’t train to be a teacher until my thirties, you know.’
Mlle Vachon talked about how she’d worked for the family business for years, a restaurant in a suburb outside of Paris. Her parents had always expected her and her brother to take over. But a cousin died unexpectedly and it sharpened her sense that life shouldn’t be wasted following the wishes of others. Morgan took in every word.
‘It caused a ruckus. My parents didn’t speak to me for a year, said it was too much for my brother alone. But then he started dating a chef and the two of them were keen to run the place when my mother and father retired. That’s the thing with life, it has a way of working itself out. It’s never too late, Morgan. Don’t give up on yourself.’
Was that what she’d done?
All of them got to their feet, Emily helping Mlle Vachon.
‘Girls, it has been wonderful to see you again,’ she said as they walked towards the door. ‘I hope I’ve been of some help. If I have, I’d appreciate a favour in return.’ She beamed. ‘It is my birthday on Easter Monday, 10 April. I am holding a little get-together at my house, 45 Greenacre Lane. It would be so lovely if you could pop in for cake. It’s an informal affair. No need to answer now, you can just turn up. Or text me nearer the time. Morgan will have my number.’
Mlle Vachon had always been a guiding force, helping the girls navigate through fallouts. Like that Halloween in Year Seven when Morgan and Paige pretended they’d caught spiders and threw them at Emily and Tiff. The plastic toys looked so realistic. Mlle Vachon explained that one person’s idea of funny can be scary for another.
‘I’m so glad none of you forgot your Miss Moo Moo,’ she said, and shot them a mischievous smile as they stepped onto the street.
Four faces flushed with the realisation that Mlle Vachon was still sharper than the lot of them.
13
MORGAN
Emily’s smirk grew wider as Tiff took furtive glances around the room, clearly not keen to be recognised in a burger joint. Morgan’s phone buzzed loudly, above the background music and chat of other customers.
‘Mlle Vachon is efficient as ever.’ Morgan shook her head, smiling. ‘It’s what… barely an hour since we saw her and she’s sent over Hugo and Sylvie’s address, as well as details about her birthday party. Midday onwards. No presents.’ Morgan showed the others the address and message. ‘She’s signed off with a cow emoji.’
‘Right. The Riviera it is,’ said Tiff and she sipped her sparkling water. ‘Presumably we’ll fly out there the beginning of the week we agreed to really focus, so two weeks today, 1 April?’
‘Travel to France?’ said Morgan. Tiff couldn’t be serious. The women looked at each other. ‘I’d planned to simply write to this address. See if Hugo – or anyone else replied.’
‘No point. He clearly didn’t want to keep in contact with anyone here, and we don’t have long to move this case forwards, international post isn’t the fastest.’ Tiff lowered her voice. ‘Maybe he had something to hide. Maybe he had something to do with his mother’s death and did a runner.’
‘For Christ’s sake, Tiff,’ said Paige, cheeks colouring up. ‘Hugo may have been a bully but he was never a murderer. If we stand any chance of helping Morgan, we need to act like grown-ups, not school kids. We aren’t starring in one of your whodunit series.’
‘Calm down, I was only joking.’
‘Yeah, let’s head to France,’ said Emily. ‘Why don’t we go first class or even better, hire a private jet? It’s not as any of us are jobless, facing divorce and looking to save every penny.’ She sunk her teeth into her Big Mac with all the trimmings.
‘I appreciate that you’re willing, Tiff, but Emily’s right. I for one can’t justify money on an airfare or hotel when I’m saving as hard as I can to help Olly out at uni.’ Morgan winced and rubbed her back.
‘You okay?’ asked Paige quickly.
‘Just a twinge. Sitting in a cashier’s chair dawn till dusk does it no good.’ She put on a bright smile. ‘I’ll write to this address. You never know… and I’m also going to pluck up the courage to act on the leads we’ve found between us already about Hugo’s friends.’ She grimaced. ‘Hopefully, they won’t still call me Morgan Wanks.’
Paige hesitated, then went to talk, but changed her mind. Finally she spoke. ‘Look… Felix and I have loads of air miles – they keep accumulating. He travels far and wide for work, and we go on holiday. I’m sure we’ve built up enough for four economy return tickets.’ Briefly, she explained about his global job with Prestige Fitness.
Tiff went into Google on her phone, tapped away and nodded to herself. She looked up at the others. ‘I have a French actor friend, Belle. We worked together on a project for Apple TV and she was the lead. Belle has a small villa on the outskirts of Fréjus, near her parents. It’s slightly cheaper there than living in Cannes, which is where her mother used to work. Belle would volunteer at the film festival, every year, before her acting career took off. She’s offered it to me free more than once, doesn’t like it standing empty during the less popular months. I was just checking – it’s not far from this address Mlle Vachon has given us. I’ll ring her now, see if it’s available.’ Without waiting for them to talk it through, Tiff got up and went outside.
‘Sorry. Nothing to contribute,’ said Emily, in a flat tone. ‘Perhaps I should stay in England. Money’s the answer to most things.’
‘That’s where you are wrong,’ said Morgan. ‘You can’t fight your own nature, Emily. Your kindness, it’s still in there, however much you deny it, and—'
‘Please stop,’ said Emily, red in the face. ‘You don’t know me, not now.’
‘But you’re still so… so unaware. That’s why you were cracking at helping the society solve cases. People never guessed you were pulling information out of them because you often didn’t realise that’s what you were doing.’
‘What are you talking about?’ she muttered.
