Dear Vic

Dear Vic,

Thanks for writing again. I do appreciate it. But I think we both know that we need to talk about us.

It’s not that I don’t appreciate your friendship. It’s really not. It’s just that you only seem to write to me when you want something, like money or for me to come and see a play you’re involved in. Frankly, I put up with enough of that at university.

I promised myself I wouldn’t get personal, but your latest letter us a perfect example. Asking if I want to “renew” our friendship for 2010 at a cost of £30 makes me feel a little like you’re using me. I also don’t appreciate the rigid labels you insist on applying to everything: £150 to be a “good friend” seems unreasonable given how good a friend I’ve been to you (I came to see The Investigation, for heavens sake!) and a £1200 fee to be your best friend just feels like you’re being mercenary.

I know that I haven’t been a perfect friend. I didn’t come to see Kursk and I was a little rude behind your back about The Girlfriend Experience. I’m also not proud of some of the circumstances around how we started our friendship: I was on the rebound following a really messy friendship which left me really vulnerable (did you see Speed the Plow?), but any sort of accusation that you were just a “younger model” are absolutely false and the fact that you both have similar names is pure coincidence.

But I’m sure you’ll admit that there are mistakes on your side as well. I think we both know that you’re not proud of what you did on Annie Get Your Gun. You never send anything on my birthday. And any time I write to you asking to borrow some money you just ignore me or fob me off with “the Arts Council doesn’t allow us to make loans or gifts to audience members”. And I thought we were friends.

Look, I’m not saying that we should be enemies or that we shouldn’t see each other any more. I just think we need some space to consider what it is that we both want from this friendship.

All the best,