Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Frankie crawled into bed half an hour later, her mind still racing with memories of the kiss. Of Jake. In the dark. Her entire body was lit up with the sensation, as if she’d woken from a long slumber.
And it wasn’t just the kiss. Or the fact that it was her first. Or the fact that it had to be up there with the best first kisses of all time. Sure, in one kiss he’d banished all thoughts of her stupid brother. Of Sally. Of Dylan, even.
No. It was his words.
In one sentence Jake had changed her whole outlook on life. She was a changed woman.
So naturally, she reacted completely calmly and in a detached manner when her phone lit up twenty minutes later with an Instagram message.
New Frankie didn’t remotely care if it was Dylan – of course, it was Dylan.
No one else messaged her on Instagram – but still, that was fine because she didn’t care anymore.
She was a strong, confident woman who was going to consider her life goals, her objectives, and decide what she wanted.
No more was she going to let life happen around her.
No more being jealous of other people who were actually living their lives.
It was time to live her own life, on her own terms.
So as she opened the message coolly, calmly, in a detached manner, she didn’t remotely care that Dylan had finished the message with three kisses this time. Or that he started this one with ‘Hey, gorgeous’. Her heart definitely did not falter in her chest at his words.
Dylan: Hey, gorgeous. Sorry it’s been a while. It’s been tricky to get time to message you. How’s the island? Your dad? How’s everyone doing? I’d kill for a pint in the Stargazer right now. Wrote a new song, thought you might like it. Take care.
Below the message was a link, which new and improved Frankie only clicked out of politeness and definitely not with a kick of excitement in her belly.
The song was called ‘My Heart is Full of You’, and the second the opening bars began to play, it was like an old friend, the sound was so familiar, somehow.
When the lyrics began, when Dylan’s voice started up, when she heard the words he was crooning, his voice like silk, caressing every note, her own heart – which had already been through the mill today, it had to be said – very nearly stopped altogether.
The song was all about her.
Or at least, that’s how it sounded. The more she listened, the more she was sure of it. It was about their time together. That one magical day that she’d been starting to think she’d made up. But no, there it was. Dylan had felt it, too.
When the music finally faded, she put it straight on repeat, then lay back on the bed and let Dylan’s voice, those words, wash over her, her skin prickling all over.
…In that moment, it all went blurry
…My heart, about to burst
…Your green eyes shining
…The wind swirls around us but all I can see is you
…And I cannot wait to see you again…
Was there even a chance that bloody Dylan had actually written her a bloody song?
New and improved Frankie didn’t have the first clue how to react.
She awoke the next morning still clutching her phone.
Jake who?
There wasn’t much time to think it all through, though, as she’d awoken not to the familiar washing of the waves on the shore but something much closer to home. The sound of an almighty kerfuffle was coming from downstairs.
One guess: Bobby.
Sure enough, she stumbled down the stairs in her pyjamas to find her brother in an olive-green jumper and green combat trousers, sitting at their kitchen table while Lily frantically buzzed around the room making – or at least attempting to make – the biggest and most chaotic cooked breakfast Frankie had ever seen.
Her father was sitting at the head of the table, with coffee and orange juice – where had they even got orange juice from?
wondered Frankie, as there had been none the day before – reading the paper but still with that proud, happy smile on his face.
‘Is “army” your whole personality now?’ said Frankie, indicating his clothes, which looked suspiciously similar to a uniform. ‘Don’t you ever give it a rest? Wear a nice pair of board shorts or some platform heels just for the giggles?’
Bobby laughed. ‘I guess it might be. Don’t you like it?’
Frankie waved a hand down herself. ‘I prefer the mismatched pyjama look.’
‘So I see.’
‘How did it go with Sally last night?’ she said, pulling up a chair and helping herself to coffee. She’d decided to ignore Lily, knowing better than to intervene when her totally undomesticated mother was attempting to cook.
‘Ooh yes, how did it go, darling?’ said Lily, cursing as she smashed another egg she was attempting to break gently into the pan.
Brian shifted anxiously. ‘Do you need any help, darling?’ he said, but Frankie shook her head.
‘You have to let her do it, Dad.’ She giggled. ‘She needs to learn.’
‘Frankie, honestly,’ said Lily but she was smiling, too, as she merrily broke two more eggs on the worktop and cheerfully slid the remains straight into the bin.
‘You’re in a good mood today, sis,’ said Bobby, raising his eyebrows at her. ‘Perhaps I should be asking about your evening instead.’
Her face flushed, and she stared down at the table.
Brian laughed. ‘Your sister’s in love with a famous musician, hasn’t she told you?’
Bobby blinked. ‘What?’
Brian piped up, as Frankie’s face grew even warmer. ‘Didn’t she tell you? That singer from the Misdemeanours was here for a bit. Hey, he left on a helicopter, too. Maybe you two can be best mates.’
Bobby was still blinking at them as if they had all lost their minds. ‘Have you all gone mad? Do you mean Dylan Wright? What the effin hell would Dylan Wright be doing on Herm? Are you sure it wasn’t just someone who looks like him?’
Frankie put her head in her hands. ‘It was him, all right,’ she mumbled. ‘His mates put him on the ferry for a laugh. Found him in Heron Cottage the next morning. Thought he was dead at first.’
‘And then… what? He hung out with you all for a bit, did he?’ Bobby’s face was a picture of incredulity.
Frankie nodded, enjoying his discomfiture a little too much. ‘Kind of, yes. A storm blew in and he couldn’t get back. So he hung out with us in the pub for a bit, as you so eloquently put it, and he even helped out when Dad decided to try and get himself nearly killed.’
‘What?’ said Bobby, turning to his father.
Brian calmly took a sip of coffee. ‘Oh, it was nothing. We just had a bit of trouble with the chapel. Dylan and Jake had to help me out from under a spot of rubble.’
‘A spot of rubble?’ said Frankie. ‘Dad, it was a whole entire statue.’
Bobby was frowning. ‘Are you okay? Did you get Dr Mac over?’
‘He came over, said he was fine,’ said Lily, waving a spatula covered in beans. ‘Just a scratch.’
‘He said we needed to watch for internal bleeding,’ said Frankie. ‘It wasn’t just a scratch, Mum. Why are you saying that?’
‘I didn’t want to worry your brother, that’s all,’ said her mum, teeth gritted.
Frankie resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
Lily presented Bobby with a plate piled high with a breakfast that, to her credit, looked more appetising than anyone had expected. Bobby nodded his appreciation and tucked straight in with gusto, forking an enormous sausage.
‘How considerate of you, Mother,’ said Frankie. ‘We wouldn’t want to worry Bobby now, would we? Anyway, he’s okay but we need to keep close eye on him for a few weeks.’
‘Who?’ said Bobby, grinning despite the mouthful of food. ‘Dad or Dylan?’
Their dad let out a little guffaw, then tucked into his own breakfast as it arrived.
By the time Frankie got hers, the eggs were cold and the bacon congealing but she ate it anyway.
‘Dylan has gone. That’s it, end of story,’ she said eventually.
She found herself kind of hoping they’d push the point more, ask more questions, but they’d all got bored of the conversation or distracted by messy fried eggs and that was the end of that.
Until Bobby polished off his plate and looked up at her. ‘Sally says that Jake’s into you,’ he said pointedly.
Her mum and dad both looked directly at Frankie, whose blush had returned with a vengeance.
‘He’s a lovely boy, that one. Lovely hands,’ Lily said, a little dreamily.
‘We all know you think so,’ said Frankie.
‘Well, he is,’ said her mother, a little defensively.
‘You could do a lot worse than Jake,’ said her dad, pointing his fork at her.
Frankie pushed back her chair. ‘Thanks, everyone. When I need love advice from you bunch of misfits, I’ll let you know. Bobby, I’m heading out to the cottages if you fancy coming to give me a hand.’
‘Can’t. Seeing Sally. But thanks,’ he said with a wry grin.
Frankie stared at him for a long moment. ‘Just don’t break her heart again, okay?’
‘I won’t,’ said Bobby, holding up his hands.
‘Remember, it’s not you that has to pick up the pieces,’ she said and turned to go.
‘Can you get me Dylan Wright’s autograph?’ was all he said in response.
‘Bugger off,’ said Frankie.