Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Dylan was right. Growing up with Lily as her mother had been hard.
Beyond hard. Lily was everything Frankie wasn’t.
Gorgeous, for a start, but also animated, exciting.
Experienced. In fact, Dylan hadn’t seen the half of what she could be like.
She flirted with every man on the island.
Every tourist who got off the boat. Lily had travelled the world extensively in her youth and she made no bones about the number of encounters she’d had along the way, before she’d met Brian and supposedly settled down.
Sometimes, when she was under the influence or simply looking to embarrass Frankie or hurt Brian, she liked to talk about those experiences in detail.
It was excruciating at the best of times but when she talked about it in front of her poor father, Frankie wanted the ground to swallow her up.
Frankie had never known why she did it. Was it to feel young again, perhaps?
Or as simple as wanting to be the centre of attention?
It had certainly got worse as Frankie had got older, as she’d started to be noticed by men in her own right.
The island wasn’t exactly full of eligible men but Frankie had always wondered how she would even go about having a relationship given Lily’s behaviour.
How would her mum react if she had a boyfriend?
If it was anything like the way she reacted around Dylan, Frankie had no hope.
She had to get off this bloody island. As soon as she thought it, she felt guilty. She loved this island.
‘You okay?’ said Dylan, breaking into her thoughts with that deep gravelly voice of his.
‘What? Oh. Yeah, I’m fine,’ she muttered. ‘Sorry, I was just thinking about…’
‘Your mum?’
‘Yeah. What did she say to you? You know, when you were walking up the hill to see Dad. Thanks for doing that, by the way. Did I say thank you? I’m not sure if I said thank you.’
Dylan smiled at her, properly smiled, and she felt it down to her toes. ‘You did. And you’re welcome.’
‘What did she say to you, though?’ She couldn’t help but push. It was like picking a scab before it was ready. She really did and also didn’t want to know what was underneath.
‘Not much. She talked about herself, mainly. And Finland, weirdly.’
‘What?’
‘Yeah. Finland. She was going on about how she’d been to Europe’s largest department store. It’s in Helsinki, apparently. Then she started going on about a cute security guard on the door. I zoned out at that point.’
‘Yikes, sorry. She does that.’
‘Is that why you call her Lily, not mum?’ said Dylan, and his words sliced into her soul.
‘You noticed that?’ said Frankie.
‘Of course I did,’ he said. ‘You call your dad, well, Dad, but Lily is always Lily. To her face at least.’
Frankie considered her answer carefully.
‘It’s been that way for a while,’ she said eventually.
‘I don’t even notice I’m doing it any more.
It’s hard to explain but Lily and I have always been more like friends, I suppose, than parent–child.
If anything, she’s more like the child. It doesn’t mean I don’t love her or anything, I don’t want you to think that.
It’s just that I find it hard to call her Mum. Always have.’
‘I get that,’ said Dylan, his voice soft.
Frankie ran a hand down her face. ‘Long answer there, sorry.’
‘It’s fine. I did ask. Like I said, she seems like a lot,’ he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
‘She is.’
‘And yet you’re…’
‘I’m what?’ What? Gorgeous? Amazing? Hot? The love of your life?
‘You’re… different.’
Oh. ‘Oh. Thanks.’
‘In a good way,’ he said quickly. ‘In a really good way.’
‘Anyone for pudding?’ said Charlie, his voice slicing through the tension between them.
‘I’m game,’ said Dylan, rubbing his non-existent belly. Frankie tried not to stare.
‘Me too,’ she said. ‘Bring it on.’
Different how?
When they were so full of sticky toffee pudding they could barely move, and Charlie had rung the bell for last orders three times and the pub began to empty as islanders and tourists alike reluctantly made their way out into the windy night, Frankie knew she couldn’t eke it out any longer.
They were going to have to call it a night.
Pins and needles prickled her arms at the thought of what might happen next, Sally’s words ringing in her ears. If you don’t… I will.
Even though she knew he knew the way, even though it was probably a terrible idea, even though Sally worked there, for God’s sake, Frankie walked Dylan back to the hotel. They lingered in the foyer. I’m different how? She was desperate to ask but couldn’t think how to steer the conversation back.
‘Well, here we are,’ she said.
‘Thanks for an exciting day.’ He grinned, one cheek revealing a dimple. It was a good job he was leaving, otherwise it would be the death of her, that dimple.
‘It certainly wasn’t boring.’
‘Hope your dad’s okay.’
‘Yeah. Thanks.’
They stared at each other. Frankie swallowed down the overwhelming need to touch him. To feel those lips on hers. To beg him not to leave.
‘Want to come up?’ he said after a moment, as if reading her mind.
‘What, to your room?’ said Frankie, then cursed herself inwardly for her idiocy.
He laughed. ‘Yes, to my room. What did you think I meant?’
‘I don’t know. It was something to say. I was…’
‘Buying yourself some time?’ he asked, looking deep into her eyes.
‘Yes. Something like that.’
‘And…? What did you decide?’
‘That it would be a terrible idea.’
‘What? Seeing my room? It’s a nice room.’ His dark blue eyes twinkled in the dimly lit foyer.
‘That’s not what I meant and you know it. Unlike you I’m sure, I’m not in the habit of sleeping with people I’ve just met.’
He put a hand to his chest in mock hurt. ‘Ouch. Besides we haven’t just met. We’ve spent the whole day together. We’re old friends.’
She tried to make her voice firm. ‘Especially ones I’m never going to see again.’
He pouted, his perfect jaw flexing. ‘Aren’t you at least going to come and see me off tomorrow?’
She sighed, took a step backwards, throwing up walls as best she could.
‘I’ve got stuff to do. There’ll be loads of clean-up from today and all the tourists who were meant to arrive today…
they’ll all be on their way over on that very same ferry.
’ He looked down at his feet and Frankie’s heart twisted.
‘Look, fine, I can come and wave you off. I’ll see you there. ’
He lifted his eyes to hers. ‘Second thoughts, don’t meet me there. Too many people. Meet me in the Fisherman’s Field at 8.30am. Okay? I’d like to say a proper goodbye.’
‘How do you know about Fisherman’s Field?’ said Frankie, a thrill of excitement going through her at his suggestive tone. He wanted to say goodbye. Maybe he would kiss her. Maybe she was going stir-crazy. One of the two.
‘I pay more attention than you give me credit for,’ he said with a smirk. ‘Goodnight, Miss Jacks. Thanks for taking care of me today. It’s been… wild.’ He leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the cheek, then turned and sauntered off down the hall.
‘See you in the morning,’ she said to his retreating back. Without stopping he threw up a hand in a little jaunty wave as if he knew she’d be watching him go, which only annoyed her more. Infuriatingly, he was right.
Frankie trudged back up the hill for what felt like the 45th time that day, her legs aching, but this time she was alone.
And although that was her usual, default state, although she had roamed the lanes of this tiny island at all times of the day and night, on her own and in company, millions of times over the years, this time was different.
Different how? What had he meant by that?
She was aching to run back and ask him, but had a feeling no answer would make her feel better.
Without Dylan by her side, cracking jokes and annoying her and generally being irritating, without him, she felt hollow. Empty. And overwhelmingly sad.
‘Frankie, wait up.’
She’d know that voice anywhere. Jake was huffing up the hill behind her. The wind had died down at last and the evening was eerily still, as if in shock.
‘You okay?’ she said, her voice flat.
‘I thought I’d walk you home,’ said Jake.
‘You don’t live here,’ said Frankie, amused. ‘Where are you even staying tonight?’
‘I’ve sorted one of the Flowers with your mum.’
‘Oh I love those. Which one?’
‘Iris, I think.’
‘Fancy.’
The Flowers were the second set of cottages up on the hill, a small row of terraces that looked east across the open sea of the English Channel. On a clear day, you could see all the way to France.
They fell into step for a few minutes more. When they reached the Manor House, Jake lingered, as if he had something to say.
‘Are you okay?’ said Frankie. ‘Only I’m very tired.’ She felt as if she’d been run over by a truck.
‘Sorry. Yes, and you’ll need to check on your dad, won’t you? Sorry,’ he said again.
‘So? Was there something you needed?’
‘No, no, nothing,’ he said. And still, he lingered. Eventually, Frankie turned to go. ‘It’s just…’ he said. She sighed and turned back towards him. ‘That guy.’
‘Dylan?’
‘Yeah.’
‘What about him?’
‘I wondered if… no, never mind.’
‘Spit it out,’ said Frankie, plastering a grin on her face. Trying to look casual. Act casual. Which seemed impossible whenever there was a mention of Dylan.
‘Be careful, Frankie. That’s all,’ said Jake with a shrug.
She bristled a little. ‘He’s only here for one night. Why does everyone keep making such a fuss? And besides, I can take care of myself.’
‘I know you can. You’re…’ his voice faded.
‘Thank you, though. Appreciate the concern.’
‘No problem,’ he said. ‘Night, Frankie.’
‘Night.’
As she backed away, he spoke into the night behind her.
‘You know, you said his name first.’ She turned back to him.
Jake had taken off his beanie and was twisting it in his hands.
It looked almost comical. Part of her wanted to laugh, then she remembered what Dylan had said about him in the pub. Be kind.
‘I did what?’ said Frankie, trying not to let her impatience show.
‘When your dad was, you know, under that statue. You called his name first. “Dylan. Jake.” That’s what you said.’
Frankie frowned. ‘What? When? I mean, I wasn’t thinking. I was panicking. That doesn’t – it didn’t mean anything.’
Jake cleared his throat. ‘I know, I’m sure you’re right. It’s silly, really. It struck me as odd, that’s all. You’ve known me forever. You’ve known him, like, one day. Not even that. And yet… you said his name first.’
Frankie clicked her tongue. Had she? ‘Honestly I think you’re reading too much into it, Jake.’
‘I’m sure you’re right. Just felt I had to say something.’
‘I understand,’ she said, though in truth, she didn’t.
‘Thanks. I needed to get that off my chest.’
‘Okay. Glad I could help. Night, then.’ She edged through the gap in the stone wall towards the house before he could say any more nonsense.
‘Night, Frankie. See you in the morning.’
‘Sure. Sleep well.’
As she walked through to the front door, she could have sworn Jake was still in the lane, watching her go.
Had she said Dylan’s name first? Did that mean anything?
If so, what did it mean? What did it matter if he was leaving anyway?
And most importantly, why was she even worrying about it?
He was leaving and that was the end of that.
And she definitely wasn’t praying that the weather was still bad the next morning so he’d have to stay a bit longer.
She was still pondering these things as she made her way upstairs. Her mum and dad were in bed, and when she pushed the door open, Brian was already snoring softly, his chest raspy but definitely much improved. Lily gave her a thumbs up. The height of affection as always.
‘Night,’ whispered Frankie.
‘Night, darling.’
As she got into bed her mind was still whirring, working its way through the events of the day, trying to make sense of everything that had happened.
His words about her mum. About Jake. And most of all, trying to ignore the rising temptation to get on the damn ferry with him in the morning and run away from home. She wouldn’t be the first, after all.