Last week we learned how to send email. To be honest I can’t see what use that will be as I don’t have a computer and don’t know anyone else who does either, but I think it’s good to keep the mind active and learn new things. Anyway I see your email address every evening on the telly and I don’t know if that’s just a gimmick but I thought I would try anyway.
My wife Margaret died late last year but we used to watch Heart of England Reports every evening together. She was a fan of yours and particularly enjoyed your jokes. She also thought you had a lovely smile. You reminded her of someone she used to know when she was younger and every night without fail she’d say: ‘Oh, he looks just like Charlie Stoker. I wonder if they’re related.’ Well, she had a real bee in her bonnet about it and would go on and on. Sometimes she’d say, ‘I’m going to write to the programme and ask him,’ and I’d say, ‘For goodness’ sake, Margaret, they’ve got better things to do with their time than answer silly questions.’ If I’m honest I was a bit short with her because I didn’t like her always mentioning this Stoker chap. It was jealousy I suppose as I’d never met the man, but I know that he had been sweet on her before I came along.
Anyway Margaret’s gone now and she never did write, but when I watch the programme I always feel as if she’s still sat on the settee next to me. So I thought I’d send an email and maybe you would read it and I could tell you about Margaret and ask if I may: are you related to Charlie Stoker? If you send an answer, I’ll get the teacher to print it out and then I can put it on the sideboard next to Margaret’s photo. I think she’d like that.
Yours faithfully,
Sidney Craven
Frank sensed that someone was behind him and looked to see that Julia had arrived at work and was reading over his shoulder. They looked at each other briefly.
Julia rolled her eyes. ‘So this Charlie Stoker looked just like you?’
Frank nodded and said, ‘Apparently.’
Julia shrugged. ‘That would explain why she ditched him for old Sidney.’
23
Michelle was caught up in a discussion with her producer, so Mo excitedly dragged Frank around the Tough Love set while they waited.
‘Dad, look, look, this is the Mirror of Truth. That’s what Michelle calls it. When the people look in this, they see themselves the way other people see them.’
Frank frowned. ‘Isn’t that what all mirrors do?’
‘Yes, but this one’s really big! Michelle gets the people to stand in front of it in a bikini so we can see where they are fat and she tells them what she honestly sees and they cry. That’s the tough-love bit — but at the end they come back and stand in front of the mirror again, but now they have new hair and new clothes and intelligent underwear and they cry again, but this time because they’re so happy.’
‘ “Intelligent underwear”? What’s that?’
Mo shrugged. ‘I don’t know exactly. I think it might have a computer in it. It stops the fat escaping.’
Mo stood in front of the mirror and turned slowly with a crazed expression of ecstasy. ‘Tough love has turned my life around!’ she said, clapping her hands together.
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?’