Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The next morning, the sun was doing its best shining, the turquoise sea was sparkling under its golden gaze and the little Trident ferry was full to bursting with day trippers and holidaymakers all desperate for a slice of Herm’s incredible natural beauty and charm.
Even Betty the Belvoir Bay café owner – and incidentally also the local volunteer police officer, not that she’d had a great deal to do for as far back as Frankie could remember – had headed across the island to help with bags, with loading and unloading, with directing visitors as they came off the boat.
This was despite the fact that there were really only three options for the new arrivals.
Turning right for the coastal path, which took you past Puffin Bay and the two-hour walk around the island, straight across the island for Belvoir Bay past the old chapel on the way, and left, to Shell Beach and Alderney point, in the far north-east, via the shops and the pub, of course.
A cohort of the more serious walkers always went right, binoculars and cameras in hand, notebooks at the ready, hoping for puffins, seals, dolphins, guillemots, kestrels, even a rare warbler or two to tick off their lists.
It was one of those delightful days in the Herm sunshine, when the time slips by unnoticed.
Sally was there, Frankie caught glimpses of her throughout the day, bustling backwards and forwards, helping people to their hotel rooms, but although Frankie tried several times to catch her eye, to take her to one side for a chat, it never seemed quite the right moment.
Jake was nowhere to be seen, no doubt laying low to avoid the crowds, while her mum, in usual fashion, was at the centre of it all, making a big show of greeting the new arrivals.
Her dad was back where he belonged, on his little ATV bombing up and down from the harbour.
Frankie even had to jump behind the bar to help Charlie a couple of times over the lunchbreak.
By the time five o’clock came, when the last ferry had left, and all the holidaymakers were where they were meant to be, Frankie was practically swaying on her feet from exhaustion.
Her legs were aching. One last go, she told herself, practically hobbling now as she pottered into the hotel foyer to see if she could spot her friend.
Sally wasn’t at the reception desk, she wasn’t in the bar and although Frankie waited over twenty minutes on the saggy old sofa by the door, she still didn’t appear.
‘Looking for me?’ came a voice as Frankie dejectedly set off for home.
Sure enough, there was her friend, sitting on the low wall opposite the hotel, her summer dress wrinkled and dusty from the heat of the day. Sally gave Frankie a little wave, but stayed where she was.
Frankie hobbled over and sat down beside her. ‘I’m pooped,’ she said. ‘What a day.’
‘The hotel is completely full,’ said Sally simply. ‘That never happens.’
‘No kidding. I’ve been trying to grab you since nine this morning.’
‘Sorry,’ said Sally, but she didn’t sound sorry. She sounded, well, mad.
‘Are you okay?’ said Frankie, glancing over at her friend a little anxiously.
‘Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you’re avoiding me?’
‘I am not.’ Frankie raised her eyebrows at her and Sally sighed. ‘Well, okay, maybe I am a little.’
‘Is it because of what I said? About you being an empath? I’m so sorry about that, Sal. You are deeply empathetic, of course.’
Sally blinked at her. ‘What? Oh no, it’s nothing like that.’
‘What is it, then?’
‘It’s nothing.’ Sally kicked her feet against the stone.
‘I think it is.’
‘Okay, fine. It is. It is something. But I don’t want to tell you.’
Frankie jumped up, and turned to stare down at her friend, shielding her eyes from the lowering sun. ‘We always tell each other everything. I thought that was like a rule or something.’
Sally laughed softly. ‘Some things are better left unsaid.’
Frankie shifted on her feet. ‘You don’t mean that.’
‘In this case, I do.’
‘Please tell me.’
‘Tell her what?’ said a familiar voice. Jake and Michael appeared around the bend in the road, both looking as exhausted as Frankie felt.
Michael gave them a little wave and a smile and carried on walking past, eager to get back to his summer digs at the campsite, but Jake slowed, then stopped beside them, hands in his pockets.
He was sporting a T-shirt and shorts and the standard Herm summer footwear – not Crocs but a battered old pair of Birkenstock sandals.
Surprisingly, his legs were as tanned as the rest of him, despite them not being on display nearly enough, thought Frankie. Stop that.
‘Hey, Jake,’ said Sally.
‘What’s going on?’ he said, looking between them as if he could sense the tension. Or perhaps Sally had told him what Frankie had said. Of course. That was it. News travels fast on an island.
But – ‘Nothing,’ said Sally quickly. ‘She was just about to tell me that she’s heard from Dylan.’
‘Oh,’ said Jake, his face falling.
‘Was I?’ said Frankie.
Sally’s eyebrow arched. ‘Well, you have, haven’t you? I can tell by that stupid grin on your face.’
Frankie’s grin grew wider without her meaning it to. Jake gave a little cough and looked at the floor.
‘I’ll leave you ladies to it,’ he said, backing away.
‘No, it’s okay,’ said Frankie. ‘Stay. There’s nothing to tell. He messaged me last night. That’s all.’
‘And?’ said Sally. Jake studied her, a pained expression in his eyes. Frankie couldn’t stop talking, even if she wanted to, even if she knew it was going to cause more of that pain. She had been longing to tell someone – anyone – about Dylan all day, at times convinced she was going to explode.
‘He messaged to say he’s hoping to come back for a visit. Maybe July.’ It burst out of her all at once.
‘Wow. That’s so cool,’ said Sally, glancing at Jake. ‘Isn’t that cool, Jake?’
Jake nodded, his jaw clenched. ‘Great,’ he managed.
‘Yeah, and apparently Ed Sheeran went to watch him play the other night. Isn’t that amazing? He said he liked their music. Dylan was really star struck, which is just so funny, isn’t it, him being star struck by Ed when he’s so famous himself?’
She was being insufferable. Smug and insufferable. She knew it. She could feel herself doing it but somehow, she couldn’t stop.
Sally and Jake exchanged another look.
‘Would you two stop looking at each other like that?’ said Frankie, her voice coming out sharper than she intended.
‘We’re not. It’s just…’ Sally began.
‘Just what? You think this is all in my head? Is that it? You think someone like Dylan would never be interested in someone like me?’
Jake rocked back on his heels as if he was about to speak, then clearly thought better of it. Sally patted the wall beside her.
‘Sit down, Franks.’
Frankie crossed her arms. ‘I’m fine, standing, thanks.’
Sally mirrored her movement, her jaw tightening. ‘Look, it’s not that we don’t think he’d be into you.’
‘Of course not,’ Jake piped up, then clamped his mouth shut again.
‘So, what is it?’
‘Well, have you heard yourself?’ said Sally slowly. Carefully. ‘Talking about Ed Sheeran and how Dylan just played another gig and all that. Meanwhile we’ve spent the day moving suitcases for a load of people all trying to find the one bloody spot where it’s quiet on this tiny bloody island.’
‘So?’ said Frankie again, aware she sounded like a spoiled toddler.
Jake spoke. ‘We’re worlds apart, Frankie. Surely you can see that?’
Frankie flushed red, fists clenching. He was right, she knew he was right, but somehow, this confrontation, this intervention, whatever it was, was making her want to scream.
She took a breath before she replied. Tears prickled at her eyes and she swallowed them back.
‘Look, you two. I’m not an idiot. I know this is never going to happen, right?
How could it ever happen? We are worlds apart, you’re right, Jake, of course you are, and it’s just totally impossible. I know that.’
Sally and Jake wisely kept quiet.
‘But…’ she went on, her breathing getting ragged, ‘but it’s okay to dream, isn’t it?
Who am I hurting by dreaming? Tell me, because I want to know.
What harm is it doing to indulge this little fantasy or whatever it is for a bit longer?
It’s not like there’s anything else going on around here, is it? ’
She spat the last few words out and Jake recoiled as if he’d been struck. Him. She was hurting him.
‘Well?’ said Frankie, looking directly at him, willing Jake to say something, anything, to show a bit of backbone. But he held his hands up.
‘I think you’ve made your point,’ he said quietly. ‘Far be it for us, your friends, to interfere.’
Frankie’s eyes properly filled with tears. ‘Sorry, I…’
‘No, forget it,’ said Sally, standing up and recrossing her arms. ‘You’ve made your point, like Jake said. Good luck with the megastar. Come on, Jake. Let’s get a drink.’
She grabbed Jake’s arm and led him down the path without another word.
As they reached the bend in the road, Jake looked back over his shoulder, his face enquiring, still kind even after she’d behaved so badly, as if he knew Frankie would be feeling terrible.
She held his gaze until they were out of sight, then dropped back down onto the low wall, eyes streaming tears, regret washing over her in guilty waves, leaving her stomach nauseous.
Or maybe it was just hunger. Either way, she felt like shit.
Her two best friends in the world and she had to treat them like that, just because they’d come so painfully, humiliatingly close to identifying how she already felt about herself.
She was embarrassed and pathetic and she knew it.
Of course, Dylan was never going to come back here.
Of course it would never work between them.
She had been an idiot for ever thinking it might.
But without it, without that hope that had been swelling her chest for the last few days, making her feel wanted, desirable, perhaps for the first time in her life… without it she was afraid she might be totally lost.