Page 28 of When We Were Friends
‘More than.’
‘Where is this villa, exactly?’ asked Morgan.
‘On the outskirts of Fréjus. It’s a port town, in the south east. It’s got Roman ruins, a Gothic cathedral, and beautiful sandy beaches. I actually went on holiday near there once, with Mum and Dad, when my first ever decent pay cheque came in. I treated them.’
Someone walking unsteadily in their direction caught their attention and the three women went over. Emily wore a winter coat, far too warm for France in April. Her small pull case had a broken wheel, and she looked as if she’d worked a week of night shifts. A slight smell of alcohol floated into the air.
‘Let’s get rid of our bags and go get a drink,’ said Emily.
The queue moved quickly and once checked in, they headed over to a restaurant which was airy and light with basic tables. Its menu offered a favourite dish for each of them. Mac and cheese for Morgan, grilled halloumi and smashed avocado for Paige, a classic beefburger for Emily and a Caesar salad for Tiff. Three of them had hot drinks. One a vodka. Emily pulled off her coat and put it on the back of her chair. It fell off, but she didn’t notice. They talked politely about holidays they’d taken over the years. When Olly was small, he and Morgan, along with her parents, would usually go to a holiday park in Wales. Swimming pool, soft play area, cheap bar food, job done. Aside from Felix’s worldwide travels, when they sometimes attached a week’s holiday onto one of his trips, Paige and her husband had honeymooned in Venice and went skiing as often as they could. Emily and Lewis always enjoyed two weeks in Greece. It was easy to book, they liked the same hotel, had made friends with the staff who cooked them English food. Like Felix, Tiff travelled with work: Croatia, Chicago, Canada. In between jobs, she visited her parents.
‘No one else drinking? Aren’t I supposed to be the quiet one?’ said Emily and raised her glass. She took a large bite of the burger and ordered another vodka.
‘Take it easy, Emily,’ said Morgan. ‘You don’t want to be ill on board. Those aeroplane toilets are tiny.’
‘Of course. Morgan the sensible. Jeez, don’t you ever let your hair down, even now?’
‘There’s no need to be rude,’ said Paige and she put down her fork.
‘Guys, guys, this week’s never going to work if we argue before we even get on the plane,’ said Tiff.
‘Because this week’s going to be perfect, right?’ said Emily. ‘Look at the four of us! We have so little in common now. We were always different, but I guess back then, I thought we had common values. But after what happened with Hugo, I asked myself if we’d ever really had a proper friendship.’
‘Of course we did,’ said Morgan.
‘I remember you always saying how four was a special number,’ Paige said to Morgan. ‘That there were four winds, four seasons, four moon phases, four elements.’
‘And four secrets,’ muttered Tiff.
‘Tiff’s right. Or maybe there were more… Fess up, guys, who’s still hiding something?’ Emily stabbed a pot of ketchup with a French fry.
Tiff sat very still. Paige became engrossed in cutting up her halloumi.
‘What’s going on, Emily?’ asked Morgan gently. ‘What’s this about?’ She pointed to the glass. ‘Can we help?’
Emily pushed away her plate. ‘I found out last night Lewis is divorcing me and I reckon everything that happened with my mum is to blame.’
‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ said Morgan.
‘Me too,’ said Paige.
‘But your mum isn’t here any more,’ said Tiff. ‘She never even met your husband, did she? He wasn’t at school, right?’
‘You know how Hugo won me over?’ said Emily, with bloodshot eyes, ignoring Tiff. ‘He said his father was ill too and that he didn’t get on with him. Said sometimes he wished his dad were dead, that even though his father was a prick, Hugo felt he had to be nice all the time. He made me promise not to tell anyone. It would ruin his perfect image, the boy who had everything: brains, a nice family, looks. Around that time, I was feeling most like the odd one out, because none of you had the challenges I faced. It was as if Hugo was the only person in the world who got it. And so I opened up to him, told him how difficult my mum could be.’
‘What a snake,’ muttered Tiff, looking as if she’d read a bad review of one of her plays. ‘I bet his dad wasn’t sick at all. Hugo took advantage.’
‘Idiot me fell for it,’ said Emily. ‘I mentioned Hugo’s dad to mine once. Dad said he was always out in the pub when he was there, laughing and chatting with mates. He reckoned Hugo’s dad was raking it in as a plumber. He looked tired a lot of the time, but what self-employed person doesn’t? Any supposed illness hadn’t held him back from enjoying a social life, from holding down a demanding job.’
‘I went to my gran’s funeral a few months ago,’ said Tiff. ‘I… always wished I’d gone to your mum’s, to be there for you, to pay her my respects.’
‘Respects? To my mother? That’s a joke. She was a selfish bitch.’
The other three exchanged looks.
‘Seeee, you never knew methatwell,’ said Emily, speaking as if explaining a complicated dosage to an elderly patient.
Emily’s mum was never perfect. Back in Year Seven, Emily would often come into school with rumpled clothes, nothing but crisps and chocolate in her lunch box, unlike the healthy meal Morgan’s mum or dad would always put together, and her permission slips for trips were never handed in on time. In Year Eight, a lot of that stopped. Emily learnt to take responsibility for herself. More than once, she’d said her mum had a life of her own, and had told Emily to follow her example and marry someone who wasn’t around twenty-four-seven. A lorry driver husband suited her. Even when he was back, she still went out clubbing with colleagues from the betting shop. But Emily missed her dad and when she went to tea with Morgan, said how nice it was to see her whole family eating at the table together.
