Page 41 of When We Were Friends
He’d held her gaze for what felt like an hour. She held his back.
‘I’m good thanks. Or was. Until seconds ago. Look… I have to tell you this: I’ve never shaken off the shame about our Year Eleven and the prom.’ He exhaled. ‘I’m more sorry than words could ever express for the way I treated you, Morgan, Tiff and Emily.’
Oh.
‘If I could take back what I did, I would in a heartbeat. Are you still in touch with them?’
‘What do you think?’
They stood in silence. Eventually, he pointed behind her. ‘Can I buy you a hot chocolate? Explain?’
‘What’s the point, Hu… Felix? What’s done is done.’
‘Just half an hour? I’ll even throw in marshmallows.’ He’d gazed straight at her. ‘There was a reason I behaved like I did. I couldn’t share it at the time. Not that I’m making excuses…’
‘Fifteen minutes.’
Wondering how Felix was getting on in Dubai, wishing she could talk to him about what was happening, Paige finished the water the waiter had brought over, left a tip and went out into the fragrant sea air, so different from the scent of Manchester’s city centre that had notes of cannabis and petrol fumes. She lit a cigarette. The nicotine calmed her nerves as the other women edged nearer to finding the man they thought was still called Hugo. Paige didn’t know how much the surf shop owner knew.
She took a long drag. Since meeting up with Morgan again, finding out her friend was a mother, since hearing about Olly… all of this had only magnified Paige’s fears around her fertility. Olly had turned Morgan’s life upside down. What if that happened to her marriage? What if Felix lost interest in having more babies? Even though it was only for a few weeks, what if he couldn’t forgive her for keeping his son a secret?
The way Felix spoke about that kid Jamal, at the Gorton community project, Paige had no doubt that he’d make a great dad. God, she loved him so much, wanted to ring him right then. But Felix might even leave Dubai immediately, risking everything he and the company had worked for, risking their much-needed charity work. It was all such a mess. Telling him about Olly would be like revealing a positive pregnancy test. A tear ran down her cheek. Except she wasn’t the mother, Morgan was. The child wasn’t a baby, he was a young man who looked so very much like his father. Paige was happy for Olly that he’d meet his dad. And Paige was happy for Felix because Olly sounded like a good lad. She just wasn’t sure if she was happy for Paige.
* * *
Emily looked behind her. Walking quickly, Paige caught them up. They crossed the car park and headed to the surf shop.No regrets. Emily was still digesting the comment she’d made earlier about Lewis. It had surprised her. The others had got her thinking about the divorce. As soon as Lewis had mentioned it, she’d assumed it was a done deal, not really asked herself if there was anything she could do about it. She loved Lewis for lots of reasons, one being the way he was with her father. From the very first day they’d met, Lewis had sensed a rawness, a deep sense of hurt in her dad, which had made it easier for Emily to tell Lewis the truth about her mum. The two men talked lorries and ambulances in a way Emily didn’t – about important things, they’d say, like engine sizes, petrol consumption, those cheese-scented hanging air fresheners in the shape of bare feet. When she announced they’d got engaged, she wasn’t sure who Dad was more pleased for, Emily or himself.
However, away from her home, from England, without him, Emily could see how much her relationship with Lewis had changed. The last few years had turned them into different people.
Or that’s what it felt like. Tears threatened.
She’d clung onto their old house, not moved his things out of their bedroom, avoided the first lawn mow of the year because he enjoyed doing that, she still kept one of his favourite beers at the back of the fridge. After too many wines, she’d lie down on the sofa, face right next to Smudge, and whisper that the couple were just going through a rough patch. Smudge often replied by patting Emily on the nose,tap, tap, tap, as if to say,There, there, sooner or later you’ll face up to what’s best for both of you.
Too much damage had been done. They both needed that fresh start. The fallout from 2020 was still happening, she’d seen it in hospitals with waiting lists, depressed colleagues, patients with long-term after-effects. Her marriage was another casualty to add to the list, because recent stressful times had brought up old issues for Emily.
Wantingwas the wrong word when it came to divorce, or hers at least. Perhapsacceptancewas more appropriate, even when the best decision was often the hardest.
Emily continued walking. Her steps should have felt easier, now she’d come to a decision, thanks to the perspective being away from Manchester had given her. However, instead they felt heavier than ever as she a followed her old teenage friends into the surf shop.
* * *
Tiff squeezed Morgan’s arm. If facing meeting Hugo was giving her stage fright, for Morgan, it must have felt like the night before debuting on Broadway. They headed towards the cash desk and walked around a couple of young men who were athletic-looking with thick heads of hair, laughing. One clapped the other on the back. Good physiques. Good fun. Their vibe reminded her of Carter and Marlon.
How had Tiff’s love life become so shallow? She’d dived into the deep end with Hugo and almost drowned. She’d been caught out a couple of times since as well. Take the third escort she’d ever met, Devon, with his sexy afro fade, his ability to make her find humour in the most inopportune moments. Up until then, sex had been a serious business. Devon opened her eyes to the fun side. Like the time she’d got bad cramp and pushed him off a little too hard. He went flying onto the floor and stayed there laughing whilst she frantically apologised. Or when, in the throes of passion, they couldn’t get a condom packet open, and neither of them could keep a straight face. He was never in a rush to leave, either, and sometimes they’d order room service. She ghosted him in the end on all social platforms. Hated herself for it. But he might have hurt her like Hugo and the girls had.
Her mind drifted to Morgan with that Den. Paige with Felix. Emily with Lewis.
Joe had messaged her on Facebook last night. Said he was coming up to Manchester for lunch, the Saturday of Easter weekend, to meet an old uni friend who was setting up his own drama school and wanted Joe to be involved. Would she like to meet up on the Saturday night for dinner? He’d booked a hotel, was staying over, and could do with someone to talk through his friend’s proposition, as apparently Joe would need to give a swift answer. Tiff had read the message umpteen times.
Now she realised why.
Tiff missed him. Joe felt like a safe place. She’d only had that once before in her life, outside of family: with Morgan, Paige and Emily. New actor friends appeared more attractive, more accomplished, and Tiff could never shake off a sense of competitiveness. Whereas Joe kept it real. He worked in an inner-city London school. He saw children at the sharp edge of life in the 2020s, with their trousers too short and mouldy bread for lunch, with lack of internet access out of hours. Yet it didn’t put him off. Quite the reverse: it fuelled him. More than once, she’d crossed his path as he carried a bag of food into work to hand out free to certain pupils. He volunteered at the breakfast club. She was… fond of him, because of this.
Tic tac toe. Aside from the escorts, there was something Tiff hadn’t told the girls, something much closer to home. She wished Joe was here, to talk to, about her secret to do with the new headteacher, Jasmine. Tiff took out her phone and was about to look at his message again, when a man started talking.
23
MORGAN
