Catherine O'Flynn - News Where You Are

Frank winced. ‘Is that what they say?’

‘Yes — because their lives were bad before, but after tough love they’re really good and all their friends come and clap and tell them how happy they are that they have had a haircut and the fat is hidden.’ Mo carried on staring in the mirror. ‘I wish Sinead could go on Tough Love .’

‘Who’s Sinead?’

‘She’s in my class. Sinead Rourke. Some children call her names because she’s fat, and she has asthma and she can’t run. They shouldn’t call her names, should they, Dad?’

‘No, definitely not. That’s horrible.’

‘That’s what I said. She just needs Tough Love and intelligent underwear. She needs to come on here and find out how to tuck the fat in her pants and turn her life around. She is stuck with a bad life, but she could have a good life.’

‘Mo, maybe her life isn’t bad. Maybe apart from the name calling she’s quite happy. Appearances aren’t the most important thing in the world.’

Michelle finally joined them. ‘Oh, Mo! What’s he saying? That’s what all those poor women say, isn’t it, at the start of the show? “Appearance doesn’t matter to me,” and I say, “The point is, love, it matters to everyone else, and yours is a mess.” Tough love, isn’t it, Mo? You understand.’

Mo looked awkward; she wasn’t sure who to agree with.

Frank looked at Michelle. ‘Mo was just talking about a classmate who’s being bullied for being overweight.’

Michelle was alarmed. ‘Oh, oh, I see. Mo, no, love, that’s different. It’s different for kiddies. The programme’s for grown-ups. Kiddies shouldn’t worry about their weight — your friend can go on a diet when she’s a teenager.’

Frank decided to change the topic. ‘Anyway — thanks for letting Mo come along today. As you can see, she’s a big fan of the show.’

Michelle smiled. ‘No, thank you, Frank, for agreeing to meet. I’m really sorry we’ve had to do it here. I’m behind schedule again — as usual — but at least it means Mo gets to have a look around.’

Frank wasn’t sure now that he shared that delight but he nodded.

Michelle beamed at Mo. ‘Hey, Mo — why don’t you go over to the clothes racks and pick out some clothes you think would be good for me. I’ve got to go to a party tonight — so you go and find something for me to wear.’

Mo was delighted. ‘What kind of party?’

‘It’s an opening.’

Mo frowned. ‘Is that like a birthday party?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘Is it fancy dress?’

‘No, not fancy dress.’

‘Will you be playing games?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘After you’ve had cake — will there be party games? Do you need to be able to run around?’

Michelle laughed. ‘No. No games. I just need to be able to stand, sit and drink.’

Frank could see from Mo’s face that she didn’t think much of the sound of the party, but she set off purposefully to the clothes racks. He felt a sudden pang of love for her as she went and had to fight the urge to run with her.

Michelle led him over to sit on a red sofa in the middle of the set. A couple of crew members moved pieces of furniture in the opposite corner.

‘Before I forget. You know you asked me about that photo?’

‘Yes.’

‘His name was Michael, wasn’t it?’

‘Yeah. Michael Church.’

‘Well, I’ve no idea if this is connected, but this is why the name Michael was vaguely familiar.’

She fished in her bag and handed Frank a note written on a small sheet of pale blue writing paper. Frank recognized the sloping shaky handwriting from papers at Michael’s house.

Phil,

I won’t be there next week. Sorry to tell you in a letter but I know if we meet you’ll try and talk me round again — like Elsie used to say, you always could charm the honey from the bees.

You’re my dearest friend Phil, but you’re wrong.

I hope I’ll hear from you soon.

Mikey

Frank read it through twice. He assumed it dated back some years.

‘Did you find this amongst his papers?’

‘No — it came by post a few days after Phil died. Well, actually it didn’t come by post — that’s how I remembered it amidst all the other letters that were turning up each day. Whoever sent it didn’t put enough postage on it so I had to go along to the sorting office to collect it and pay the extra. It would have been waiting there a few days before I got round to going to get it. I had so much going on I didn’t pay it a great deal of attention. Is that the Michael you were asking about?’

‘Yeah.’

‘What’s it about?’

‘I don’t know. A disagreement, I guess.’

Michelle pulled a face. ‘It’s strange that Phil never mentioned it. Strange that I never even heard him mention this Michael.’ She hesitated. ‘But that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.’

‘What?’

‘I don’t really know where to start — just lots of little things that maybe don’t amount to much. I haven’t spoken to anyone before, but now I think maybe I should say something.’

‘Say what?’

‘Okay — put at its bluntest — I just think there was something funny going on at the end.’

‘Funny?’

‘Suspicious, peculiar. Not ha ha. Definitely not ha ha.’ Frank waited for her to continue, but instead she changed tack. ‘When did you last speak to him?’

‘About a month before he died.’

‘And how did he seem?’

Frank remembered the phone conversation. ‘Fine, he seemed fine. I mean — the conversation was a little strange, but in himself he was fine.’

‘What do you mean strange?’

‘Well, he was ringing to apologize for the previous call when he’d had a bit to drink. I didn’t mind at all, but he was being really hard on himself, saying he’d behaved ridiculously — you know, obviously very embarrassed about his behaviour — which wasn’t really like him. Normally he’d just laugh something like that off, or deny it.’

Michelle nodded. ‘When he rang you drunk — had he ever done that before?’

‘God no, never. It wasn’t his style, was it? Not very debonair and classy. I was looking forward to getting mileage from that little slip for years to come.’

‘And when he was drunk, was he telling you he loved you?’

Frank looked at Michelle. ‘Yes, he was. I suppose every drunk says that — but that’s exactly what he was saying, and that he loved you too — he was full of love that night.’

Michelle sat back on the sofa. ‘So you had a glimpse of it.’

‘A glimpse of what?’

‘Of what life was like in those last two months.’ She hesitated. ‘This is really hard for me, because it feels like I’m talking about Phil behind his back — well, I am, but I have to talk to someone about it. He became a different person in those weeks leading up to his death. You know how easy going he was, how much fun — well, that changed. He was having these enormous mood swings. At night he’d tell me how much he loved me — I mean we’d always told each other that — but this was different, there was some kind of desperation there. He was drinking more — sometimes he’d actually be crying as he told me he loved me. It was frightening. I knew something was up, but he wouldn’t tell me what. Then in the daytime he’d often be tense and short-tempered, preoccupied and tetchy. Other times he’d seem utterly depressed and lifeless. It was crazy.’

Frank was shaking his head. ‘But that just wasn’t Phil. Do you think maybe he was ill?’

‘That’s what I thought. I thought it must be something neurological — this complete personality change. He agreed to be checked out, but they found nothing. The doctor said it could be stress, but he didn’t know Phil. He thought a seventy-eight-year-old man doing a weekly primetime television show was bound to be overdoing it — but Phil thrived on that.