Page 117 of Washed Up

‘Your father and I were talking about this last night, as it goes,’ said Lily, and it was Frankie’s turn to blink.

‘You were?’

‘Yes. In fact, he called me out on it, the same way you just did. Isn’t that odd?’

It’s been a long time coming, thought Frankie. Out loud, she murmured her assent.

‘The thing is,’ her mum went on, ‘I think it comes back to your brother.’

‘What do you mean?’ said Frankie. ‘How?’

‘Since he left. I’ve been… so sad. A bit empty, maybe.’

Frankie’s heart twisted. ‘You’ve never told us that, Mum.’

‘We never talked about it,’ said Lily. ‘Your father and me, I mean. We swallowed it down. Stamped on it. The pain of that day, finding him gone. My God. When you have kids, you’ll know what I mean. The sheer panic. The hurt. Bobby broke my heart. I don’t think I ever got over it.’

‘I’m so sorry, Mum,’ said Frankie softly. Her mind was racing. This explained so much.

‘It’s not your fault. None of it is your fault,’ said Lily with feeling.

‘Still… my stupid brother.’

‘I know. It wasn’t his fault either, not really. He was only sixteen. He felt cooped up, I get it. We thought we were giving him a good life but he felt trapped. We just hadn’t seen it.’ Lily gave a bitter laugh. ‘We fucked up. Parents do, you know. We’re all just trying to do our best. And I guess we both compensated in different ways. Your father coped, if you can call it that, by throwing himself into the island, getting involved in everything, almost to the point of exhaustion.’ Her mouth twisted.

‘And me?’ she went on. ‘I didn’t cope at all. Or at least, the only way I could get through each day was by, I don’t know, pretending I was someone else. My younger self, I suppose. Living in the past instead of the present. Regretting all the opportunities I missed in the past instead of appreciating what I have.’ A sob escaped her lips. ‘And now I might lose it all.’

Frankie put an arm around her shoulders, still finding it strange to be so tactile with her mother. She wondered vaguely if Lily found it strange, too. It must have been normal, once. ‘We’re not going to lose him,’ she said, more confidently than she felt.

Lily’s eyes were full of tears. ‘God, I hope not,’ she said, taking a few shuddering breaths. ‘Despite appearances, I’m actually quite fond of the old git.’

‘Well, you did save his life.’

‘I tried.’ In her eyes flashed a spark of hope. And then something else. Something… naughtier. ‘Now, speaking of being fond of things, exactly when did you and Dylan start doing it?’

Frankie’s face was on fire. ‘I’m sorry, what?’

‘You heard me,’ said her mother. And perhaps it was the fact that Lily sounded like her old self again, despite the tear stains and mascara lines down her cheeks that no one dared to mention, this was a glimpse of the mother Frankie had always known. What else could she do but lean in?

‘We’re not,’ said Frankie, but she allowed a tiny spark of possibility in her tone.

‘Bullshit,’ said Lily. ‘That look he just gave you was positively indecent. Oh my God, my daughter is dating a rock star. The girls are going to die when I tell them.’ She put a hand over her mouth. ‘Very poor choice of words there. Sorry, darling,’ she whispered in the general direction of the door. ‘Please get better.’

Frankie nodded solemnly, then almost guffawed when her mum turned back to her.

‘Details. Now. Please. I need distracting.’ Her eyes were shining, pleading.

Not for the first time, or even the one millionth time, they were back to Frankie being the grown up. It was much more comfortable all round.

‘No details. It’s very, very early days.’

‘Boo,’ said Lily, crossing her arms.

‘But he did kiss me,’ said Frankie quickly. There. She’d said it out loud.

‘I knew it. When, where, how?’

‘At Puffin Bay. This morning. On the bench.’ Was it actually only that morning?