Page 6 of When We Were Friends
Morgan’s arms fell to her sides. Oh. But at least Paige had turned up. That had to be a good sign.
Footsteps. A snapped twig. Another woman appeared, hair tousled, odd socks on underneath worn jeans. Morgan grinned. Dear Emily. But a sneer crossed the new arrival’s face.
‘Morgan, Paige. Which one of you called this shitshow?’
Morgan stepped backwards. The worddamnused to be Emily’s worst expletive. The others teased her about it. She dug her hands into her coat pockets and crossed her fingers.Please, don’t let this be happening.Her heart pounded.
‘Not guilty,’ Paige replied in a tone as smooth as her hair.
‘Me neither,’ said a fourth woman appearing from the wooded area, the smell of strong perfume arriving before her.
Morgan’s eyes narrowed as the figure neared. She gasped, along with Paige and Emily. Not one of the three found the words to say hello. As if owning the catwalk, the woman strutted over, with prominent cheekbones, a belt wrapped around a small waist, with previous mousey curls now brunette and straight, the purple glasses gone and clothes looking more expensive than Paige’s. A woman with… a certain grace.
‘Tiff?’ said Morgan. ‘You look so… so… different.’
Paige tilted her head. Emily couldn’t stop staring.
‘Thank you. I have to work very hard to keep off those extra pounds I used to carry around. First impressions are so important. That frumpy little girl would have really struggled to make it.’
Overweight? Frumpy? Back in the day, Tiff never used to entertain such notions, bouncing insults back if anyone said them. She’d even brazen out the oinks from Jasmine and her gang.
‘You always looked great, Tiff,’ said Morgan.
The others’ faces softened, just for a second, a stranger wouldn’t have noticed.
‘I called the meeting. Thanks everyone, for turning up. I’m really grateful. It’s so great to see you all again.’ Morgan reached into her mini rucksack and pulled out three bags of fudge. ‘Plain for you Paige,’ she said and nervously held it out.
Paige hesitated before dropping it into her handbag. ‘Thank you. I’ll give it to my husband.’
Right. Morgan swallowed.
‘Candy cane for you, Emily.’
Emily shrugged, opened the bag and stuffed a chunk into her mouth.
‘Chocolate peanut butter for you, Tiff,’ said Morgan, feeling more foolish by the minute.
Tiff took the fudge as if it were in a dog poop bag. ‘Thanks. Not that I eat anything that sweet these days.’
Face flooded with heat, Morgan zipped up her rucksack.
‘I only came out of curiosity,’ said Emily and she put another chunk in her mouth.
‘Me too,’ said Paige.
‘Same,’ said Tiff.
‘Or perhaps our friendship still means something?’ said Morgan in a questioning tone. She longed for the camaraderie of their school years, how in their company, she liked herself more than when with anyone else. ‘It’s been so long… What happened at the end of Year Eleven – we were only kids. God, I’ve missed you guys.’
Emily kicked a stone. ‘Or is it rather that you want something from us? Go on, spit it out.’
Emily used to be so gently spoken, she’d hang in the background, she’d bolster, she’d comfort.
Tiff looked at her watch. ‘I’m expecting a call, Morgan. Any chance we could get on?’
‘A bit drastic, wasn’t it, calling us together here?’ asked Paige, still in that smooth voice, formal, distant. ‘You could have chosen a café for the meeting place.’
Tears threatened. They didn’t do that often. Morgan always tried to be the strong one.
