Page 15 of Washed Up

‘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.