Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
They stomped in silence down the hill for the second time that day.
The rain had eased and the wind was at their backs, making it slightly easier although it was still an extremely unpleasant experience all round.
Their clothes were damp and sticking to them, and their welly boots splashed through enormous puddles as they stomped, the tension between them thick and uncomfortable.
‘Sorry about that,’ said Dylan ruefully, as they got back into the village. ‘I’m not sure what got into me.’
‘You will be,’ she replied through gritted teeth, then instantly regretted it.
‘Is that a promise?’ he said, eyebrows raised, that mouth of his quirking up suggestively.
‘It’s a threat. Now come on.’ Back to reality in the cold wind and rain, Frankie couldn’t wait to get rid of him. Her heart was hammering away merrily in her chest, which she put down to sheer irritation. It definitely had absolutely nothing to do with What Had Just Happened.
He still had that stupid grin on his face as she led him towards the hotel.
The Herm Island Hotel was justifiably famous for being a favourite haunt of gorgeous mum favourite, singer Jimmy Doonan, who had been to stay on more than one occasion. He wasn’t her own mum’s favourite, of course, Lily much preferring them twenty years younger. At least.
‘Darlings, there you are.’ Speak of the devil and she will appear.
It was as though her mum had been stalking them.
Lying in wait, more like, thought Frankie, grimly.
There she was in the foyer of the hotel looking for all the world as if she’d arrived off the boat for a lovely holiday instead of being a member of island staff.
‘Where on earth have you been?’ she drawled.
‘And what on earth are you both wearing?’
‘You bought us both some clothes from the gift shop,’ said Frankie proudly, yanking on the toggles of her hoodie and making her mother frown. ‘Thanks for that by the way.’
‘Did I indeed?’ said Lily, looking them up and down. Well, no, not Frankie. Her mother was only interested in looking Dylan up and down.
‘No photos,’ said Dylan with a cheeky smile. ‘I’m incognito.’
‘That’s for sure,’ said Lily dryly. ‘I much preferred your earlier get up.’
‘I bet you did,’ said Frankie under her breath.
‘What, darling?’
‘Nothing. I’m just getting Dylan a room, okay?’
‘What? Oh yes, Sally’s through there. You go for it.’ She dragged her eyes away from Dylan and plonked herself back down on the sofa in the entranceway.
Something made Frankie pause. ‘Have you seen Dad?’ she said cautiously.
A shadow flickered across Lily’s face. ‘No, darling, I haven’t actually, but I’m sure he’ll be back any minute. I was just waiting to see if he came by this way.’
At the sight of her mother’s furrowed brow, a thread of worry unspooled itself in Frankie’s chest. ‘Okay. I’ll be back in a minute. Maybe Jake can come and help me find him.’
‘I can help,’ said Dylan.
‘Oh thank you so much, both of you,’ said Lily, a hand on her chest.
Frankie flashed Dylan a look that Paddington would have called a hard stare. She was proud of that look. It had been honed over many years of dealing with the odd less friendly tourist. They were very rare, thankfully. ‘You’ve done enough. But thanks.’
Dylan shrugged. ‘You know where I am.’
‘I will in a minute,’ said Frankie. ‘Come on.’ Just a few minutes more and he’ll be someone else’s problem, she thought.
That someone else being her best friend, Sally.
They walked into the reception area and there she was, lounging in a chair behind the desk as usual, feet propped up on a low shelf, totally absorbed in a tatty paperback copy of Jane Eyre.
The room was darker than usual thanks to the weather, but the deep mahogany of the reception desk and the slightly tired and rather ugly navy and gold carpets weren’t exactly helping.
Faded glamour, that was the vibe in here, mainly because there were so many tourists coming and going, they never had the chance to redecorate.
It was full normally, anyway. Right now, it was like a ghost town. The guests, such as they were, must have been hiding in their rooms. And who could blame them? What else was there to do, after all? Herm was very much an outdoors type of island.
Frankie rapped lightly on the desk. ‘Dylan, meet Sally.’
‘Great to meet you, Sally,’ said Dylan, his voice deeper, or was that just Frankie’s imagination? ‘Frankie and Sally? That sounds like a recipe for trouble.’
‘You’re thinking of Harry,’ said Frankie.
‘Oh that’s it. Silly me.’
Sally, meanwhile, had put down her book and was openly gawping at Dylan.
‘You okay there?’ said Dylan, in a voice that said he was quite used to that kind of reaction.
‘Well, hellooooooo, Dylan,’ said Sally.
Sally had short red hair in a pixie cut, and pale blue eyes that were a bit too big for her face and always made her look a little like a starved Victorian orphan.
Today she was sporting her favourite pair of bell-bottomed jeans and a faded Garbage T-shirt.
A true child of the 90s. She had come over with her family as a baby and had been Frankie’s best friend since before they could conceive of such a thing.
Always, basically. When her family moved back to Guernsey, Sally decided to stay on at the hotel, and Frankie was grateful every single day that she had.
‘Where did you find this?’ said Sally, indicating Dylan but turning to Frankie, eyes still wide.
‘This?’ said Dylan, one eyebrow raised. ‘I’m fairly sure you’re not allowed to refer to me in that manner. Not politically correct, you know.’
‘This was asleep in Heron Cottage this morning,’ said Frankie with a grin, ignoring him completely.
‘Which God did you pray to for that to happen? I must try it,’ said Sally.
Dylan snorted at that, which Frankie also elected to ignore. ‘Seems his mates dumped him on the ferry last night when he was drunk. Now he can’t get back because of the weather.’
‘Their loss is most definitely our gain,’ said Sally, continuing to look him up and down.
‘I am standing right here,’ said Dylan.
‘Hush now,’ said Sally. ‘Don’t spoil this moment with words.’
‘Charming,’ said Dylan, who was clearly loving the blend of casual sexism and blatant yearning that Sally had down pat.
‘I was hoping I could dump him off with you,’ said Frankie, pleadingly. ‘He’s been a right pain, to be honest.’
‘Hey,’ said Dylan. ‘Only the tiniest bit.’
Sally stood up and raised her eyebrows at Frankie. ‘Are you sure about that?’ she said. ‘I mean, I feel like maybe he’d like to stay with you.’
Frankie laughed. ‘At the Manor? Are you serious?’
‘Wait, you never told me you live in a manor house,’ said Dylan.
‘You never asked. Honestly, Sal, I just need you to let him have a room and not make a big deal about this, okay?’
Sally held her hands up. ‘Fine. But for the record, this is a big deal. How often do we get a…’ She waved a hand at Dylan.
‘A Dylan,’ he ventured.
‘Yes, right, a Dylan. How often do we get a Dylan washed up on our shores?’
Frankie scoffed. ‘Don’t get used to it. He’ll be gone tomorrow.’
‘Oh thanks,’ said Dylan, then he turned to Sally. ‘Yes, thank God, I’ll be gone by the morning. When is the first ferry, out of interest?’
‘Nine thirty,’ said Sally. ‘Although it will depend on the weather.’
‘What weather?’ he said quickly.
Frankie gave him a nudge. ‘Good one.’
‘I try,’ said Dylan.
‘Are you sure you two don’t want a room together?’ said Sally, her eyebrows raised almost to the heavens.
‘Definitely not,’ said Frankie.
‘Harsh,’ said Dylan. ‘But no. Just your finest single room, please, and a phone charger if you have one, and I’ll be happy.’
Sally tapped at the computer in front of her. ‘I have a suite, will that do you?’
‘That sounds great. Only thing is, I don’t have my wallet with me. I’ve got my card saved on my phone. Can I pay online or something?’
‘I suppose so,’ said Sally. ‘No one’s ever asked me that before. Give it a go when you get to your room and if not, you know, we’ll sort something out.’
‘She means I’ll pay for the room,’ said Frankie under her breath.
‘Yes,’ said Sally with a smirk, ‘that’s exactly what I meant. Frankie will pay. You can pay her back later. Now, can I have a surname for the booking?’
‘Ah, yeah. Sorry. It’s Dylan Wright.’
‘Dylan Wright?’ said Sally, head snapping up from her desk at that. ‘You’re not… the Dylan Wright? Right?’
Dylan glanced at Frankie before replying. ‘It depends which one you mean.’
Sally studied him for a long moment. ‘The one from the Misdemeanours. You do look like him.’
‘Well, if that’s the one you meant, then yes, I’d have to say, that’s me.’
Sally’s eyes went wide. ‘Well in that case, a very special welcome to Herm, Dylan.’
‘Thank you kindly,’ said Dylan with a grin.
Sally stared at him for a moment longer, as if her brain was trying to catch up.
‘Oh my God,’ said Frankie, rubbing her temples. ‘Not you, too. He’s probably a tribute act or something at best. Anyway, can we get on with it?’
‘Keep your curly hair on, Frankie,’ said Sal. ‘Jeez. The poor guy’s stranded on Herm, he’s wearing what looks like the entire contents of the gift shop and you’re not exactly being welcoming, if you know what I mean.’
‘Sorry,’ said Frankie, meaning it this time. ‘I’m just a bit worried about my dad. Do you mind if I leave you to it?’ She glanced at Dylan. ‘You’ll be okay with Sally now? Right?’
Dylan’s eyes widened in something like surprise, but he nodded. ‘Of course. I’ll be fine.’
‘Good. Thanks. I’ll, er… I’ll maybe see you in the pub tonight if you fancy it?’
Sally lifted an eyebrow. Why did I have to go and say that? But Dylan smiled. A proper dimply smile that actually made her heart melt a little. Only a little.
‘I’d like that,’ he said.
As Frankie backed towards the door, she could feel Sally’s eyes boring into her soul. There was going to be a lot of questions later. She could practically feel them forming.
‘See you later, Frankie,’ was all Sally said, though her eyes were flashing. ‘Hope you find Brian.’
‘Thanks,’ said Frankie. The thread of worry was now a knot.
The wind was still terrible and her dad would normally have checked in by now.
She had to find Jake. Had to get searching even though it meant going back out in the rain for the umpteenth time that day.
Even though it meant leaving Dylan behind.
In a bizarre twist, Frankie had somehow gone from being desperate to get away from him to not really wanting to leave.
And now, if she was really honest, a small part of her was hoping Sally wasn’t going to get all starstruck and fall in love with Dylan while she was gone.
Because that would be very inconvenient.