Page 60 of When We Were Friends
‘Then there are the parents like mine who, regardless of socials, want their kid to shine in a way they couldn’t,’ she said. ‘They would have definitely sent me to a club with a name like Make You A Star.’
‘Manchester is the place to do it too, with its history of creative adventurousness, with its vibrancy…’ Joe said with enthusiasm. ‘My train arrived early and I took a look around – the Northern Quarter, the Village, Deansgate. Talk about eclectic, and I loved the buskers in Market Street. But… I also came across rough sleepers. It’s clear drug and drink problems aren’t being tackled widely enough. So on a whim, I asked Max if he’d consider running mental health workshops as well. I’ve read up on some over the years, in scenarios like addiction clinics, and I’m in charge of wellbeing drama workshops at school where we explore emotional problems and coping mechanisms. The kids always say it’s really useful.’ He shrugged. ‘But Max’s main aim is to rake in money. He’s tired of living on his teacher wage. He’s always accepted he didn’t have it in him to make it on the stage, but doesn’t see why that should stop him earning big bucks. I don’t blame him.’
‘You’ve spoken of your frustration at how hard it is to get on the property ladder. I guess working for Max might help you with that.’ Joe rented. His flat was much smaller than hers, yet he wanted to put down permanent roots.
‘For sure. Visiting Manchester, loving the vibe, it’s revealed there are other places in England I could be happy, where housing is much more affordable, so that’s not a factor.’
The waitress delivered their food. Conversation stopped as Joe smelt the dishes and started eating, his face talking louder than words.
‘Wow. I might have to come back to Manchester for this place alone.’ Joe wiped his mouth. ‘But not to work with Max. I think, for me, sticking with school teaching will be more rewarding.’
The treacle fries in Tiff’s mouth suddenly tasted even sweeter.
‘It must have been great growing up here,’ he said.
‘Fantastic shopping. You should visit Afflecks indoor market. Great coffee shops. My friends and I used to love the Christmas markets. But then the prom happened and it all got screwed.’ She ate more butter chicken, drank more wine and then told Joe exactly what Hugo had done.
‘For the first time…’ Her voice wavered. ‘A boy saw through my outside – the… the extra curves none of the other girls had, the clumsy manner. I used to pretend to the world – even to my friends – that I didn’t care about my shape, but inside I longed to look like Kiera Knightly.’
Joe put down his knife and fork. Hesitated. Took out his phone. He scrolled through his photos and stopped at a woman, a little older than him with the same green eyes and kindly air.
‘Alice?’ asked Tiff. He’d talked about his older sister often. She lived in Essex where he’d grown up, was married with two children who always beat Joe at board games.
‘Yes. She’d wanted to look like Kate Hudson. She’d ended up in hospital weighing less than six stone.’
‘Oh Joe. I’m so sorry. You’ve never mentioned that before.’
‘It’s still painful to talk about everything she went through.’ Joe didn’t speak for a moment. ‘I’ve never been so frightened than when the doctors said she’d suffered heart damage. She lacked confidence about how she looked but I dismissed that as a teenage thing, then it got so much worse.’
‘Poor Alice. My problems were nothing like hers.’
‘You can’t rank sadness and low self-esteem. A friend of hers started using laxatives and that random factor was the beginning of Alice’s downhill spiral. It taught me a lesson I’m grateful for – that looks are the last thing that matter. Yeah, I could try for a six-pack.’ He picked up a treacle fry. ‘But I’d rather have my takeout. I’m sorry this Hugo… Felix, whatever he’s called, in the end made you even more insecure.’
This was new for Tiff. Opening up to the opposite sex. With Carter and Marlon, she kept conversations strictly on the surface. She and Joe talked about his sister and how Alice got into recovery. Tiff explained the pressures of her industry to look good, how it wasn’t only on women these days. Whatever film genre they were in, male actor friends felt an expectation to have the body of a Marvel hero. Joe ordered another plate of cheese on toast at that point and Tiff couldn’t help laughing. They moved on, again, to the wellbeing workshops Joe ran in school, and a flicker of something, deep down, ignited in Tiff, a spark that grew and grew as they finished their meal and ordered coffee.
‘I could come into your school and help run workshops to do with body image,’ said Tiff. ‘I did one in a local theatre near me, a couple of years ago. The kids were set challenges to improve their self-esteem, were asked to act out and interpret words such as “powerful” and “confident”. The aim was to create a safe space where issues like eating disorders and body dysmorphia could be discussed.’ Tiff couldn’t stop talking, brainstorming about what each session could focus on.
‘Tiff, this sounds brilliant,’ said Joe and he asked her several questions about the concept before typing bullet points into his phone. ‘Alice has often talked about how she’d like to share her experience too. She could be a visitor to the workshops.’
Across the table, Tiff smiled at Joe. She hadn’t gone to the Ladies once whilst they’d eaten, to reapply her lipstick. She’d been too busy eating – as much as she wanted.
After paying the bill, they stood outside the Corn Exchange.
‘Come over to mine for dinner after your Isle of Wight trip,’ said Joe. ‘We can put together a plan of these workshops, to pitch to the head.’
‘Sounds like a date,’ she said and then blushed. ‘Not that I meant…’
Paige popped into her head: how she’d snatched Tiff’s phone, locked herself in the loo and texted to Joe that Tiff would love to meet up with him.
No friends since 2004 had understood Tiff as well as The Secret Gift Society members.
She stepped forwards. ‘No, actually, Idomean that, Joe. A date. You and me. Are you in?’
Joe looked as if one of his pupils had recited the whole of a Shakespearian play by heart. ‘Wow. Yes, Tiff. A thousand times yes. Jeez, my charms need polishing. How many months has this taken?’
‘How many jogs, more like?’ she said and groaned.
They laughed and she slipped her hand into his. ‘I… I need to take it slow. I haven’t managed to shake off trust issues… since Hugo. Silly, really…’
