Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Back at the manor, they gave Brian a proper once over. Frankie made him lift his jumper, which he finally agreed to do after much grumbling, and sure enough, there was a large, ugly bruise down the side of his body that was swiftly turning purple.
‘It’s a good job it landed on your side, is all I can say, Dad,’ said Frankie, trying to keep her voice light.
‘That’s proper, that is,’ said Dylan. ‘A proper job.’
‘You almost sound impressed,’ said Frankie.
‘I am. It’s a man thing,’ said Dylan.
To her surprise, Brian made a grunt of agreement. She put a hand to his forehead again, feeling suitably nurse-like, then pressed him into the armchair by the range to keep warm.
‘Stop clucking,’ said her dad.
‘I’d better tell Mum,’ said Frankie. She didn’t dare look in Dylan’s direction. People always thought Lily was the least motherly person going. Which was true.
‘I wouldn’t bother,’ said Brian. ‘She’ll only try to call the doctor.’
‘As she should,’ said Frankie.
She left the men to go and make a restorative cup of tea for her dad, and forage up some adequate coffee for Dylan. When she returned, they were laughing together like old friends.
‘It was always the bloody drummer,’ Brian was saying. ‘I don’t know what it is about women and drummers.’
‘Oh my God, yes,’ said Dylan. ‘They’re all total…’
As she walked into the room with the drinks and two packets of painkillers from the first aid kit, both men stopped talking and turned to stare at her. ‘What?’ she said.
‘Dylan here is in a band, did you know that?’ said Brian, clearing his throat.
‘He has mentioned it,’ said Frankie, grinning.
Brian smiled back. His chest was noisy when he spoke and as he breathed. ‘I was in a band, once upon a time.’
‘You’ve mentioned that too, Dad,’ said Frankie.
‘He was telling me all about it,’ said Dylan, who to his credit looked like he was taking it all extremely seriously. ‘Marvin and the Whatsits or something like that, wasn’t it? They sound very cool.’
‘Marvin and the Thundernauts. They were on Top of the Pops once,’ said Frankie proudly. ‘The amp blew halfway through their set and they had to carry on regardless. We’ve heard the story a few times as you can imagine.’
‘Those were the days.’ Brian smiled more deeply and she started.
With the plaster dust lining and accentuating the few wrinkles he had, he looked suddenly old.
He wasn’t of course, only in his fifties, but for the first time in her life, that she could remember, she had a flash of worry about her parents getting older.
It wasn’t something that ever occurred to her on a day-to-day basis.
Her father was super active and her mother was, well, Lily.
It didn’t bear thinking about, what might happen when they could no longer do all the things they did for the island. Or for her.
Well, all the things her dad did for her, at least.
Dylan was taking in the room, which was an admittedly impressive if somewhat draughty Georgian-style kitchen with an enormous fireplace as well as the shabby old cooking range.
Brian was in one of the tattered armchairs usually reserved for Blondie, when she deigned to grace them with her presence.
‘So you’ve lived in this house ever since you arrived on the island? ’ he asked them.
‘Not straight away,’ said Frankie. ‘We came over initially for a summer holiday, and my folks decided to stay. We took on the holiday lets and moved into the Manor House when I was about five. That’s what happens, mostly. People come for a holiday or for a summer job and they never leave.’
‘It’s a bit more complicated than that, love,’ piped up Brian. ‘You have to know someone. Or at least, it helps.’
‘Well, okay, yes, they knew the couple who were the tenants at the time, Charlotte and Ian. Sally’s mum and dad as it goes, although she didn’t even exist then. She’s a bit younger than me. They invited my mum and dad for a visit. That’s how it started.’
‘We just fell in love with the place,’ said Brian, then he started coughing.
‘Dad, I think you need a shower, get rid of all that dust.’
‘The poor chapel,’ was all he said in response.
‘Jake is dealing with that. We’ll fix it.’
‘It’s 900 years old, that chapel,’ said Brian to Dylan. ‘Maybe even older.’ He shook his head. ‘And we only redid the roof a few years back.’
‘We fixed it up before, we can do it again,’ said Frankie, patting his knee. ‘It’s only a statue. Now come on, you, go up and get a shower and we’ll let Mum know what’s going on. She’ll be up shortly.’ She paused. ‘Will you be okay?’
‘I can go and get her,’ said Dylan. ‘Then you can stay with your dad.’ He didn’t add just in case, but she knew what he meant.
‘I’m fine,’ said Brian.
Frankie looked at him for a long moment, before turning to Dylan. ‘Thank you. She’ll be in the pub, I’m sure. Do you know the way?’
Dylan nodded and without another word, he was gone.
‘I like that one,’ said Brian, again. ‘How long is he staying?’
‘Just till tomorrow, Dad,’ said Frankie. ‘And don’t look at me like that.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like you think I like him, too.’
‘You do though, don’t you?’ said her dad with a smirk. ‘Who wouldn’t?’
‘What on earth is that supposed to mean?’
‘Do you want me to spell it out?’
Frankie sighed. ‘Not really but I suspect you’re going to.’
‘How often does a handsome man like that rock up on Herm, eh?’
‘I don’t know, Dad, how often does a handsome man rock up on Herm?’
He laughed. ‘Did it sound like a dad joke, that?’
‘A bit.’
‘Still. The question remains. And I’ll answer it for you. Never, is the answer. So I suggest you make the most of it.’
‘Dad!’
‘What?’
‘Go and have a shower, for God’s sake. Maybe a cold one, eh?’ said Frankie. ‘I’ll shout up the stairs in a bit to make sure you’re still alive.’
Brian finally eased himself out of the chair. ‘This conversation is not over,’ he said, ambling out of the room, wincing a little from the pain.
‘It bloody is,’ muttered Frankie, staring into the fire. Her stomach rumbled and she glanced at her watch. Nearly 2pm. No wonder.
Half an hour later, her father was de-dusted and back in the armchair with a round of sandwiches and more tea.
He’d managed the shower by himself and was moving more freely thanks to the painkillers, meaning the ball of worry in Frankie’s chest had shrunk to more of a ping-pong ball size.
She was busying herself in the kitchen, making several more rounds of sandwiches to take her mind off it all, when Lily and Dylan burst into the room.
They were shaking the raindrops off their clothes and giggling, her mother’s hand still on Dylan’s arm as if they’d walked up the hill like that.
A stab of jealousy coursed through her and she almost laughed at her own foolishness.
What the hell was wrong with her? She needed to sort this out and sharpish.
It was, frankly, ridiculous. They’d only just met.
Hell, he wasn’t her type. If she’d even known enough men to have a type.
Jake was more the usual build she thought of, if she thought of it at all.
Dylan was slimmer, leaner, more the tortured musician beta type she and Sally had giggled over in the teenage magazine quizzes when they were growing up.
Still, she thought, as she watched him taking off his Paddington jacket by the fire, still grinning, he certainly had alpha male energy.
Confidence. Swagger, even. She had to admit, it was deeply attractive.
‘What?’ he said, catching her staring at him.
‘Nothing,’ she mouthed, cheeks reddening under his returning gaze.
At the sound of their voices, Blondie came clacking into the room from her spot in the lounge, tail wagging. She made a beeline for Dylan, who crouched down to give her a scratch. The dog closed her eyes, practically beaming at him as he got hold of her ears and gave them a rub.
‘I see you’ve met Blondie,’ said Lily.
‘She’s absolutely smitten with the boy,’ said Brian with a wry smile.
Lily looked him over. ‘You look all right,’ she said, grabbing a sandwich from the plate.
‘Good of you to be so concerned,’ said Frankie drily.
‘I am all right,’ said Brian. ‘All this fuss is a load of old rot.’
‘You should have seen the size of the statue that fell on him,’ said Frankie.
‘She’s not even joking,’ said Dylan. ‘A whole Jesus, I think.’
Lily peered at Brian, then shrugged. ‘He’s made of tough stuff. That’s why I married him.’
Dylan glanced at Frankie, who raised her eyebrows as subtly as she could. ‘Have a sandwich, Dylan,’ she said. ‘You must be starving.’
His blue eyes crinkled at her. ‘I’m fucking famished, as it goes.’
Lily giggled at his use of the swear word, and even her dad grinned from his chair.
‘Good man,’ he muttered. ‘Told you, Frankie.’
‘Told her what?’ said Dylan, looking amused.
Frankie shook her head quickly at Brian, but he either didn’t notice the movement or pretended he hadn’t.
‘We were just saying what a breath of fresh air you are around here,’ said Brian.
Shame flooded Frankie’s body. ‘Dad! For God’s sake we said nothing of the sort.’
‘Did you now?’ said Dylan, raising his eyebrows at her.
‘I did not,’ said Frankie, her face even warmer now. ‘He’s an old man. He’s had a bump on the head. He clearly has no idea what he’s saying.’
Dylan glanced at Brian. ‘He seems perfectly lucid. Seems to me he’s a very sensible type. Got his head screwed on. None the worse for the whole statue thing, if you ask me.’
‘It’s a good job no one did,’ said Frankie, but she couldn’t resist smiling back at him at that. Honestly, he was insufferable.
‘You like our little island, then?’ purred Lily, her eyes raking over Dylan as he pulled up a chair at their battered old kitchen table.
‘I like it just fine,’ said Dylan.
‘No. No, he doesn’t,’ said Frankie. ‘He thinks we’re a bunch of bumpkins. Can’t wait to get back to his social media accounts and his groupies and all that jazz.’
Dylan only grinned wider and stuffed another sandwich into his mouth. ‘I do miss wifi, I won’t lie,’ he said, through his mouthful.
‘Nothing wrong with that, son,’ said Brian. ‘We get used to it, I suppose, it’s so intermittent here.’
‘Which is a great thing,’ added Frankie. ‘Social media is such stuff and nonsense. None of it is real.’
‘How would you know?’ said Lily, and Frankie didn’t miss the barb in her voice.
‘How would you know?’ she retorted. ‘You only do Facebook like an old lady, and that’s only so you can stalk that ex-boyfriend of yours.’
Dylan raised his eyebrows at Brian, who simply shrugged. ‘It’s true, she does.’
‘If your ex-boyfriend was the Duke of Pembroke,’ said her mother sharply, ‘you’d stalk him, too. And,’ she added, ‘I am not old.’
‘Oh my God, here we go,’ said Frankie. ‘Come on, Dylan, let’s get the hell out of here. Want to see the rest of the house?’
‘Do I ever,’ said Dylan. Then, eyes flashing suggestively, ‘Is it my turn to see your bedroom now?’
‘What?’ said Lily. ‘What does he mean by that?’ She turned to Brian.
He laughed. ‘Kids will be kids. Now, beautiful Lily, come here and look at my bruise.’
Frankie grabbed Dylan’s hand and dragged him from the room.