Page 23 of The F*cking Fabulous Forties Club

‘If only I could write that offering tummy rubs and being willing to live with noxious emissions could motivate all staff,’ I tell him, before a flash of inspiration strikes me. What if I use this template – the boring old ‘Ten Ways to…’ that seems to make up the staple of my B2B work – to draft up a proposal for Northern People magazine? I’d flesh it out, obviously, beyond a bullet-pointed list so that I could inject humour and heart and realism into it, but it might work?

‘Ten Ways to Survive Your Forties’, for example? It might just work. In fact, I think it really could and I want to start writing it now, but I have to meet my deadline and then I have to check on Mum. It’s still bitterly cold and icy outside and I don’t want any repeats of yesterday’s shenanigans. But later… later I can lose myself in writing something that makes my heart sing. I just need to focus on this list first. It’s what young me would’ve done. She always was very studious and sensible after all.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m down to number six – ‘give positive feedback’ – when my phone buzzes to life with a notification that I’ve been added to a new group chat on WhatsApp called, rather unimaginatively, ‘Becks, Laurs and Niamh’. Seconds later my phone buzzes again, with the first message to the group – from Laura.

Laura

I read my letter.

Niamh

Are we sticking to what is written in the letter is between the letter writer and her God rule, or are we allowed to ask for the deets?

Niamh

Because I’m supervising in the sixth-form centre just now so it would be a good time to get caught up in a WhatsApp chat.

Me

I think it’s up to the letter writer to decide whether or not to share.

Laura

I think I might need to share. But I think I might need wine, or vodka, or something.

Me

That bad?

Laura replies with five crying face emojis.

Niamh

Oh shit, I’m sorry, love. I’d pop over with a bottle and a box of tissues but sadly the principal tends to frown on that kind of behaviour.

Me

And I’m in B2B hell. But I’m here for you. Honest. Do we need to schedule some sort of crisis meeting about this?

There’s a long pause where I can see that Laura has read my reply, as has Niamh, but neither of them have responded and I’m starting to worry I’m about to die from the worst possible humiliation of modern times – being left on read. But then my screen lights up with ‘Laura is typing’ and I wait with bated breath.

Laura

Can we? I know I’ve no right to ask after everything but no one is going to understand this like you two will. I tried talking to Aidan about it but he doesn’t get it. He said I was only a child when I wrote it and I can’t hold younger me to the same standards as grown-up me but

There’s a pause and then the same ‘Laura is typing’ message pops up again.

Laura

I think younger me had higher standards than grown-up me and I don’t know what the actual fuck I’m doing with my life.

Niamh

Just tell me where and when I need to be. My house is obviously not suitable because teenage boys are feral.

Me

My house is always free. If you don’t mind the dog, who smells about as bad as a teenage boy in fairness but I can light a Yankee Candle.

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