“I’m sorry, I had a headache,” I lied.
“You should have come. There were only seven of us there, eight if you count the priest.”
She was trying to make me feel guilty and it was working. Seven people. Seven fucking people went to his funeral. Do you know how many people went to Charlie Parker’s funeral? Over a hundred. They didn’t even fit into the room. I heard they had people sitting out in the car park who couldn’t get a spot inside. His funeral was like a Rolling Stones concert.
“I’m sorry, was it awful?” I said, trying to sound comforting but my heart wasn’t in it.
“Pretty bad,” she said. “His mum wailed through the whole thing. There were some others there who I guess were his family. They asked if I was Peter’s girlfriend. I told them I was.”
“That’s nice.”
“Do you want to come over tonight?” she asked. I probably should have, Peter was her friend too, but I just couldn’t face it.
“No, thanks anyway, I think I’ll just get an early night. Tomorrow’s Sunday.”
“Okay, goodnight Hamish, I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I hung up and slid the phone across the floorboards. It collided with my bedroom door.
After that day, time went by so slowly that it ached every single minute of every day. But, eventually, somehow, I found myself in the school hall sitting my HSC and there were two empty desks instead of one. Those two months were a struggle. Annie and I didn’t really speak the whole time, both too busy studying. I was really lonely. I missed study sessions with Martin, but I knew better than to call him. Annie and I tried to study for our English exams together once, but after that we didn’t do any of the same subjects.
I managed to finish my Photography major work, even though every time I looked at it, I felt sick. It ended up as four pieces. One of Annie sitting on the fence, one of Martin holding his controller, one of Peter with his football and one of my parents’ wedding photo. I debated whether to include Martin’s picture, but to be honest, it was a bloody decent shot and I wanted a good mark.
When we got our results, Martin came dux and Annie and I both came in the top ten in the school. We had to go to an awards ceremony and get our certificates. I couldn’t help thinking that I only made the top ten because Charlie Parker was dead. I got accepted to UTS to study Business and Annie got into a Bachelor of Education at Macquarie University. I heard Martin was doing graphic design. What a rebel.
Over the summer, I also got a job at McDonald’s and I saw Martin and his mother come through the drive-through all the time, ordering McFlurries. He never spoke to me except to ask for extra M&Ms.
Annie and I moved to Sydney for uni. I feel guilty leaving my parents on the farm so I still visit on weekends. Things are looking up for them. My dad has decided to plant more potatoes. Everyone eats potatoes, right? He’s even been able to hire some of his old workers back. Annie and I catch the train up since neither of us can afford a car yet. We managed to get a crappy little flat that we pay for using our student allowance and the money we get from part-time work.
There are two bedrooms – mine is particularly small – but we usually both sleep in Annie’s room. We lie together in the dark talking about the future. We put up my Photography major project on the living room wall and Annie stuck two of her own Polaroids onto it. One was of the two of us lying in bed in our pyjamas and the other was the one from her bedroom, with Charlie and Peter.
Annie is studying to be a high school teacher. God alone knows why. She tells me how she hates her Education subjects because they have nothing to do with real life and she doesn’t learn anything from them. She tells me that she loves her English subjects because she is studying Charles Dickens and she gets to have hour-long discussions about literature. Sometimes we talk about the past, but it gets harder and harder each time. Sometimes we just cry.
I tell her that I loved Peter Bridges, but no matter how many times I say it, he’ll never get to hear me.
If things had been different, this could have been a much longer story. If Peter’s life hadn’t been so fucked up, it could have gone on forever. But I will have to be happy with a shorter story. At least I have that much.
Tonight, Annie and I are out with our new uni friends. There’s one with purple hair and another with tattoos on her arms. We’re drinking bright pink cocktails and Annie is singing karaoke and, as it turns out, there is something she is bad at. I’m eating my weight in chips and wondering if I can work up the courage to ask someone to dance with me. I’ll probably end up asking Annie though, let’s be honest. The bartender just gave me a free shot and it burns my throat like I imagine a vat of battery acid would. Sometimes I look at Annie and I remember just how beautiful she is, like right now, up on the stage fringed by glittery curtains and singing totally out of key. I can see the crowd watching her. I can picture them debating with themselves about whether or not they should speak to her, what they could say to make her think they’re interesting. But Annie isn’t looking at any of them tonight, she’s looking straight at me, and somehow, I know we’re going to be okay, because even though we’ll never find another Charlie or another Peter, we’ll always have each other, and that is enough.
If you are affected by any of the issues in I Had Such Friends or are worried about someone in your life, there are organisations who can help:
lifeline.org.au
beyondblue.org.au
suicidecallbackservice.org.au
kidshelpline.com.au
mensline.org.au
If you are in an emergency, or at immediate risk of harm to yourself or others, please contact emergency services on 000.
For 24/7 crisis support and suicide prevention services, call Lifeline on 13 11 14. The national charity’s online Crisis Support Chat service is also available every night at lifeline.org.au/crisischat.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
First and foremost, I’d like to acknowledge and thank the team at Pantera Press: Ali Green, John Green, Marty Green, Jenny Green, James Read, Lucy Bell, Anabel Pandiella, Elly Clapin, Anna Blackie and Katy McEwen. You believed in me and in my first novel and that is something I will always remember and be grateful for. In particular, I want to single out James Read whose passion for this book was an inspiration to me and whose tireless efforts as my editor have made I Had Such Friends what it is today.
I also want to acknowledge my beautiful parents who have been my editors since the first story I ever wrote about the six kittens and the bad dog. You have supported me my whole life in every endeavour and I would not be where I am today without your guidance and love.
To Hanna, Sai, Paige and Emily, you are my sisters in every way but the actual way and I am so unbelievably proud of you all. Thank you for just always being there. Also a shout out to all my other friends and family, especially my Aunty Kay who is my first port of call whenever I finish a new story. Your positivity and warmth helps a lot more than you know.
Thank you to my proofreader Lucy Bell whose keen eyes picked out the slip-ups everyone else missed. Also to Steve Leard of Leard (Leard.co.uk) who designed the beautiful cover art and helped my book to stand out on the shelves. And to Dane Howell for taking my author photo and making sure I looked nice.
To every wonderful student I have ever taught, you know who you are.
To my boyfriend Daniel, thank you for making sure I didn’t give up on my dream to write and for doing all the chores while I sat at my laptop. Meeting you was a legit miracle and I can’t imagine a life without your avocado socks and your freckly eyes.
And last, but not least, to you, dear reader, for listening to my story.
ABOUT MEG GATLAND-VENESS
Meg Gatland-Veness lives on the Central Coast, Australia, with her boyfriend and two cats. She is an English and Drama teacher and she has a Bachelor of Arts in English and Drama, as well as a Bachelor of Secondary Teaching.
Writing stories for as long as she can remember and readin
g them for even longer, Meg can’t leave the house without a book in her backpack.
When she’s not writing novels, Meg spends her time choreographing and directing school musicals, singing and dancing, as well as playing tennis, volleyball and soccer.
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