Page 27 of When We Were Friends
‘Paige, she’s a body language consultant now. Emily, she… used to be a nurse, and Tiff is an actor, she’s actually changed her name to Tiff Tudor. I still can’t get used to that, but—’
‘Holy fuck!’
‘Olly!’
‘Sorry, Mum.’ His face flushed. ‘It’s just half the guys in my year fancy her. She was in a huge Netflix series last year… So do the four of you get on?’
‘This isn’t going to be some big, lasting reunion, the others have made that clear. But I’m grateful for their help. They’ve volunteered one week of their time.’ She told him about the free flights and villa. ‘If, by the end of that, we still haven’t found Hugo…’ She looked Olly straight in the eyes. ‘We’ll carry on. You and me. Track your father down together. Right?’
Olly gave her the kind of smile he used to when he was a little boy, full of respect, full of belief, full of… love.
He ran a hand through his floppy, chestnut fringe, like his dad used to. ‘Did you ever… I mean you could have chosen not to…’ He exhaled. ‘You were brave to have me, Mum. What made you go ahead with the pregnancy?’
‘I only considered other options for a matter of seconds. A knee-jerk reaction when that test turned out positive.’
‘What changed your mind?’
‘It was like… someone giving you an equation to work out, say… what is pi squared? If I didn’t find the answer, it would always niggle me. As soon as I found out you were in my tummy, I wanted to know what you’d look like, would we be friends, would you be interested in the arts, or science, would you like Marmite… but more than that, I already felt attached, felt protective.’
‘It’s 9.86, by the way,’ he mumbled.
Morgan sat more upright, as if the dark cloud pressing down on her had been blown away, by being transparent, by speaking with Olly as… an equal. Her son was about to make his own way in the world. Protecting a child was a natural, necessary instinct, but not a young adult, not if they were to become strong and independent.
‘Thanks Mum. For looking for my dad.’ His voice became clipped. ‘I can’t say I’m not still angry about how long it’s taken, though. You might have found him years ago if you’d contacted your friends sooner. And now…’ He threw his arms in the air. ‘It’s crap that I’ll never meet my French grandmother.’
‘I… I know.’
Olly drank his water, and put down the glass. It landed on the table a little too loudly. ‘Everything you’ve told me has filled a gap, but opened up another one as well.’ He ran his sleeve across his mouth. Took a moment. ‘At least, now, things are more out in the open.’
‘Yes, and in the spirit of that, there’s one other thing I want to tell you. It’s another reason I wanted to get back in touch with my friends. I haven’t told it to them yet.’ Her throat closed up as if she were about to gag, but Olly deserved to be the first to find out. She should have told him weeks ago.
Olly sat and took in every word. His eyes glistened. When she finished, he wrapped both his arms around Morgan tightly and she allowed herself to lean into him.
‘Thanks for telling me,’ he said later, as they climbed the stairs, after an hour of talking. They faced each other on the landing.
‘I love you, son.’
‘Love you too, Mum.’
16
MORGAN
Standing by the end of the queue for the BA desk, Morgan looked at her phone. Midday. Paige appeared in the distance, with an understated, black pull-case. Morgan’s was white, an impractical colour that showed scratches, but it had been half-price in the January sales before her trip to Brittany with Olly.
‘Paige.’
‘Morgan.’
Paige gave her a cursory hug. Morgan wouldn’t have been more surprised if the customer from yesterday who’d sworn at her for being slow on the till had taken her in his arms. She went to reciprocate but Paige stood back. They waited in silence, so unlike the old days. Eventually, small talk broke through: yes, the airport was busy, no, neither of them had been to Fréjus before.
Tiff appeared with a Louis Vuitton case and sunglasses pushed up into her hair, high heels, tight jeans: the worst outfit for relaxing on an aeroplane, in Morgan’s opinion. She’d gone for flats, leggings, and a sports bra underneath a baggy sweatshirt. Paige wore wide-leg, soft trousers, with trainers and a blazer, different to the Burberry check one she’d worn when they met on the school grounds.
‘This is really happening, us travelling together as if it’s almost twenty years ago and we’re going on a school trip,’ said Tiff. ‘It isn’t an April Fool’s joke.’
Paige gave a polite smile. Morgan’s was warmer.
‘I’ve checked with Belle and the keys are with a neighbour. She’s had cleaning staff in and the fridge will be stocked with essentials. Did your air miles really cover the cost of flights, Paige?’
