Page 21 of Washed Up

Dylan stood and shook his hand. ‘Dylan,’ he said, his smile warm and genuine.

‘He’s stuck here, Dad,’ said Frankie, giving Blondie’s ears a scratch. ‘The ferries aren’t running. Dylan, this is my dad, Brian.’

‘Ah. Say no more,’ said her dad. ‘Except… Do you always dress like Paddington Bear?’

Jake guffawed at that and Dylan rubbed his face with his hand. ‘No. No, not usually.’

‘Well, I’m supremely grateful you arrived when you did,’ said her dad, bending to shake the dust out of his hair.

Frankie was still on the floor, cuddling Blondie. She looked up at him. ‘Dad, are you sure you’re okay?’

‘I’m okay.’ He made a show of feeling himself all over. ‘I think, anyway. No point worrying, we won’t be able to get the doc over until tomorrow so I’ll have to be, won’t I?’

Dylan looked at Frankie, his brow furrowed. ‘Is that true?’

Frankie gave a little nod. ‘Sort of. There’s no doctor on the island so yes, normally we have to get someone to come over from Guernsey. But if it’s bad…’

‘If it’s bad, we have to call the air ambulance,’ finished her dad, an audible wheeze in his chest. ‘Normally, anyway. But not today.’

‘Why not today?’

‘They wouldn’t – can’t – fly in this weather,’ said Frankie.

‘So you have to be fine, basically,’ said Jake.

‘Wow,’ said Dylan. He went to say more, then stopped, biting his lip.

‘You were going to say you can’t believe anyone lives like this, weren’t you?’ said Frankie.

‘Something like that,’ he nodded. ‘I mean, no, not in so many words.’

‘It’s okay,’ said Jake, clapping him on the back rather hard. ‘It’s how we like it.’

‘I’m sure,’ said Dylan.

‘Come on, Dad, let’s get you home,’ said Frankie.

‘Bath and a beverage and I’ll be right as rain,’ said Brian. Frankie tried to swallow the ball of anxiety that had gathered in her throat.

‘Sure, Dad. Course you will. Come on, Blondie.’

Jake hung back. ‘I think I’ll survey the damage here. We’ll need to get this mess fixed up and sharpish,’ he said. He was looking at Frankie as he said it, as if for her approval. It wasn’t the first time he’d looked at her like that lately. It was unnerving.

‘Thanks, Jake,’ was all she said. He was a good man.

With one arm around her shoulder and one arm around Dylan’s, her dad made his way carefully out of the chapel, Blondie trotting behind. Brian was slow, not his usual self at all. Frankie supposed that was normal but it didn’t stop the worry.

‘Beautiful dog,’ said Dylan.

Blondie looked up at him as if she understood perfectly what he was saying.

‘She is and she knows it,’ said Brian.

‘She’s free range, basically,’ said Frankie. ‘We’ve given up trying to keep her at the house.’

Dylan laughed, a low, soft sound that made the blood hum in her veins. She attempted to cover her reaction with a shrug.

Her father chuckled affectionately. ‘That how she likes it. Sometimes she goes to visit the tourists in the cottages, sometimes she comes home to the manor. She’s her own person.’