Faye

[Ainsley Rickett]

Dear occasional friend of mine,

Where have you been lately, aside from at your home, doing nothing (because that’s to be expected, but I haven’t heard from you in days)? Not sure yet whether I’m concerned about what you’ve been up to or if I should just opt to not know. Either way, I’d highly appreciate you putting the effort into writing back, because I miss you.

Ainsley xx

[Faye Stanley]

Ains,

Weird way to start off a letter. 'Occasional friend of mine'. Sounds dubious as hell.

It's pretty amazing that I'm even bothering to write back given the heat, but so far I've managed to avoid burning. The last thing I need is to turn into a red-tinged prat for the next couple of months. Basically I'm just slathering myself in sun-cream all day every day, which isn't exactly the epitome of sexy. Not that I've ever had sex appeal oozing off of me, but I'm pretty sure this has really killed it.

I've been making sure the house doesn't collapse around mum (she's in one of her dreamy moods again, like, dreamier than usual, so I'm doing all the groceries and things sensible people have to do to maintain a good household) and volunteering for the Arts Centre every now and again, which basically means leaning against a wall for the entirety of a show, selling drinks at half-time and ducking around the back to have a fag whenever I can. The Glitz and Glamour of the Stanley life.

Faye

[Ainsley Rickett]

Faye,

I tend to be pretty dubious, as far as dubious goes. You know me.

Well, I don’t think the point of applying sun-cream is to look sexy, but at least you won’t burn. I have faith in you to make the most of the situation.

Look at you, being all sensible and responsible. Didn't think you had it in you. The Arts Centre sounds cool, though! I’ll have to tag along sometime and we can do nothing together. Which means I’m basically inviting myself and you have no choice in the matter, because I’m getting tired of being home.

Ainsley

[Faye Stanley]

Ains,

Yeah, you're seriously shrouded in mystery.

You're right the point of it isn't about being sexy, because if that was the target then the people who developed the idea were way off the mark. And I'll have to make the most of the situation - I don't want to look like a strawberry.

Just come over whenever, you can tag along or we can do something dumb like go bicycling or whatever. There are some nice countryish lanes, I'll take my fags and a bottle of wine and some food. We can pretend we're sophisticated. And then we can stand outside a show and collect ticket stubs. You might as well stay over too, Mum and Dad practically want to adopt you. Although considering Mum's been dippier than ever she might not even notice you're about. You'll also have to put up with my cooking. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Faye

[Ainsley Rickett]

Faye,

It's a personal talent that I've perfected. I don't expect you to understand.

I guarantee that you don't look like a strawberry.

Going bicycling sounds really relaxing, actually, so I'd be up for that. Same goes for everything else. Your parents are nice, and so is your cooking. I've got nothing to complain about. I'll consider myself warned.

Ainsley

[Faye Stanley]

Ains,

Because I wouldn't know anything about talent? That's pretty true. Most of the time I'm proud if I even bother to tie my shoelaces.

Much appreciated. Glad I don't look like a fruit.

It sounds sort of lame, looking back, actually, but whatever. You can borrow one of our extra bikes, I swear we have about seven. Do you want wine in particular or would you be happy with some cheap cider? If not, you'd better supply the alcohol, because I don't really want to splash. Although I suppose I could just get cheap wine.

My parents are weird, my cooking is adequate at best, and an extra warning to you is that if Sam appears he will talk about Floo Maintenance. You will expected to be impressed. Don't worry, though, I'll distract him with something outrageous like saying I'm going to drop out of school to become a stripper and you can duck out.

No one can ever say I amn't a good friend.

Faye

[Ainsley Rickett]

Faye,

No, I’d say you know some things about talent - for example, perfecting the art of doing nothing. I’m just saying that you don’t know much about this particular talent.

I’d hate to see you looking like a fruit. Or worse, a vegetable. The horror.

It doesn’t sound lame, seriously. I’d love to. I’ve got you covered on the wine, as long as you’re fine with fairly expensive shit that I find difficult to pronounce and runs the risk of looking pretentious as hell when I bring it over. I’m not buying, so don’t worry about it. Thank my father.

I’ve seen much worse, and I’m not going to be scared away by the general dullness that is Sam Stanley.

Of course not. You’re a great friend. Embrace it.

Ainsley

[Faye Stanley]

Ains,

I'm very proud. That's something to show off, alright.

Vegetables are cool.

You're easily pleased, but hey, okay. And the fairly expensive shit sounds fine, seeing as we're two classy birds. Well. You're classy. I'm not too sure about me. Depends on my mood. And you always look pretentious as hell. Plus, your dad really needs to look after his booze better.

You're a madwoman. His visits are quite potentially the worst moments in my life. He doesn't snub you, though, because you don't look like you've just been dragged through a forest.

God, you're sickening sometimes.

Faye

[Ainsley Rickett]

Faye,

Only you, my friend, only you.

The coolest.

Yeah, I’m not going to deny being easily pleased. Anything is better than consistently being at my place alone when my sisters are out or locked in their rooms. Shut up - if you’re not classy, then neither am I. Thanks for the kindness and gratitude. Really appreciate it.

I think categorizing them as the worst moments of your life is a slight exaggeration. He's your brother and he's not that bad.

You’re sickening all the time.

Ainsley