Page 65 of When We Were Friends
‘Me and Dad have talked about it over the years. With my brother too. After the shock of her deception had passed, the three of us became really close. Still are. She’d never said much about her childhood and we didn’t visit my grandparents often. When we did, the atmosphere was always frosty. Once I asked why we didn’t see more of her family and she simply said they were a bunch of tossers.’ She shot Mlle Vachon an apologetic look. ‘She had a brother too. Younger as well. Her parents were made up and spoilt him rotten, gave him all the chances, sent him to private school, encouraged him to go to university. Mum was dyslexic and they’d call her stupid.’ A tear trickled down her cheek. ‘I loved her so much when I was little. She didn’t need to do any crazy stuff to get the attention of a girl who thought her mummy was the cleverest, prettiest person on the planet.’ Her voice cracked for a second. ‘Turns out, my love, along with Dad’s and my brother’s, wasn’t enough.’
‘You’ve been so strong,’ muttered Tiff.
‘Sostrong,’ said Morgan.
‘You really have,’ added Paige.
It was getting dark outside. ‘Chocolats chauds?’ suggested Mlle Vachon gently.
Morgan got up to help her. When the two of them came back into the room with the hot chocolates, the others had closed the blinds and switched on the lights.
‘Right,’ said Mlle Vachon, ‘what other secrets are keeping you four apart?’
Tiff rubbed the back of her neck and opened up about befriending Jasmine.
‘You know she is head now?’ asked Mlle Vachon.
‘She hasn’t changed,’ said Paige.
‘If nothing else, you have to admire her determination, her ambition,’ said Mlle Vachon. ‘That girl stood out in no way academically and yet here she is, at the helm of one of the best high schools in the district.’
Tiff sipped her drink. ‘I’ve no excuse for befriending Jasmine despite the way she had – and continued – to treat my best friends. It started off as just helping her with English, but soon I couldn’t resist becoming friends with one of the populars. So shallow. If I could go back, would I do it again? No. But I can’t change the past. All I can do is ask for forgiveness.’
‘Honesty is a quality to be admired as well,’ said Mlle Vachon. ‘What Tiff has said is very real. Sometimes good people do bad things. We can’t take them back. All we can do is learn and move on. I suspect you did, Tiff?’ Mlle Vachon prodded.
‘Oh yes, for sure.’ Tiff looked at Morgan, Paige and Emily. ‘Once I’d left school, started my career, gained confidence, however fun Jasmine was, even though I saw a different side of her, I realised what a betrayal it had been. On my first proper job, I had a bit part. The lead actor was vile to work with, a real diva. He counted the number of lines his co-star had and demanded the same number. One day, he made the runner cry; we’d become friends and I found her sobbing in the toilets. I went back on set and he was full of charm, asked if I wanted to go for drink after the day’s filming. Despite not liking him, what a chance that would have been to pick his brains and network. But I said no straightaway and took the runner out for coffee instead.’
‘But Jasmine had bullied us for years,’ said Morgan. ‘How could you overlook that?’
‘I don’t know, I really don’t – yet is it so different to each of us ignoring what a bastard Felix had been?’ asked Tiff.
Mlle Vachon sipped her hot chocolate. ‘No one reaches my age without regrets. Show me an older person who’s gained their wisdom through leading a mistake-free life, and I’ll show you a liar. Mistakes hurt us. Shape us. Act as a mirror to show us the person we truly aspire to be.’ She put down her mug. ‘When I was seventeen, I slept with a friend’s boyfriend.’
The other four sat up.
‘Without explaining, I backed off from the friendship. Hurt her, probably. I took the coward’s way out and… ghosted her, youngsters would say now, instead of confessing. However, I’ve forgiven myself. It took a while. He was funny. Good-looking. I was lonely and had secretly been jealous of my friend. We had drinks at a party, she was out of town with her parents. I instigated what happened. He and I never spoke again.’
Wow. Mlle Vachon had always looked so… wholesome.
‘Does this episode make me a terrible person? No. It makes me human. Have I ever cheated on a friend again? You bet your life I haven’t.’ She sat down again and adjusted her glasses. ‘Talking like this doesn’t mean any of you forget what has happened. It’s about accepting each other’s flaws. It’s about… growing. Perhaps since being back together, you have started to get some perspective on where your teenage heads were at.’ She turned to Paige. ‘But you have married Felix as an adult. You have a current story to tell.’ Mlle Vachon stretched. ‘Bon. Despite all that cake, my stomach rumbles. Let us take a break and have a light tea, yes?’
Chatting about the weather, the Easter weekend, Mlle Vachon’s French club at the library, they put out the remaining baguette, cheese and cold meats, crisps and a plate of crudités. Mlle Vachon fetched a bottle of red wine. Morgan declined and didn’t understand why Paige raised her eyebrows at that. They picked at the food, apart from Paige, who ate nothing at all. Eventually, silence fell.
‘I used to chuckle that you four called me Miss Moo Moo,’ said Mlle Vachon. ‘I went out with a retired farmer once. He told me that cows are very social animals; they form friendships within the herd, and produce more milk if named and treated like individuals by humans. Friends have seen me through my life, especially as I’ve never married, never had children. I’ve gone through periods on my own, with no partner and when friends have been busy, periods that have been lonely – not in terms of filling the day with activity but… emotionally. Those times emphasised my friends’ value, despite fallouts we might have had. Sometimes saying, “I’m sorry” or, “I miss you” feels like the hardest thing but trust me, it’s not.’
Paige took another mouthful of her drink before pushing back her chair and taking a deep breath.
‘Felix and I discussed me coming here today,’ she said. ‘He agreed I could share his story – said it was right.’ She fiddled with the expensive watch again. Mlle Vachon rubbed Paige’s arm as she began talking…
37
HUGO
Gripping the banister with every step, Garth stomped downstairs. Garth, that’s what Hugo had started to call his dad, in his head. You had to earn the name father. Garth stumbled down the last step and swore loudly. Hugo and his mum sat in the kitchen, it was a Sunday morning. As a treat, they were having bacon butties. They looked at each other – which was new. It was only a small gesture but an acknowledgement that was never voiced, never discussed. When he was little, in front of Hugo, Sylvie would pretend nothing was wrong. But as her son got older, the charade became harder to carry off, although she still stuck to the story that his dad was a good man – he worked very hard, needed understanding, that without him, they’d have nothing.
Hugo believed the opposite. That without him, they’d have everything. Like calm. Laughter. The cat he and Mum had always wanted. His dad said any pet would take away too much of busy Sylvie’s attention, saying he was only thinking of her. They’d have excitement about the right things as well, like enjoying takeout as a pair or going to the cinema together – not about Dad working late or catching flu and having to stay in bed, away from them.
Garth staggered into the kitchen and collapsed, filling a chair, hair greasy, unshaven, pyjamas smelling of beer, looking nothing like the sociable, smart version of himself who went to the pub. Garth gave a loud burp and Sylvie winced.
