Page 30 of Washed Up

This was Charlie, with impeccable timing, arriving with their food. Dylan sauntered back over from the bar with their drinks and as he casually slid back into his place next to Frankie, Jake’s eyes burned into her soul.

‘Sally, do you want to join me for dinner?’ said Jake with gritted teeth, after an excruciatingly long pause.

‘Jacob, I’d be honoured,’ said Sally, clambering out from behind the table a little too eagerly.

Jake walked to the next free table with Sally, though he was still glancing across at Frankie and Dylan.

‘I think Jake is in love with you,’ said Dylan in Frankie’s ear when they were far enough away.

‘Nonsense. I’ve known him for years,’ said Frankie, digging into her fish and chips and hoping he hadn’t noticed the blush that had crept up her cheek since his return. His nearness had an effect on her body that she simply couldn’t explain, had never felt before.

‘Not relevant,’ said Dylan. ‘I make my living writing about unrequited love. I know it when I see it.’

‘Unrequited what now?’

‘You know, it’s your classic third wheel scenario. The person who’s always been in love with their friend and has either never admitted to it or has admitted it but has been horribly rejected. Think Les Mis. Think Hamilton. Think Gloria Estefan. Think Whitney Houston. Think Fountains of Wayne.’

Frankie snorted into her drink. ‘Fountains of who? What on earth are you going on about?’

‘Fountains of Wayne? “Stacey’s Mom”? The definitive track about unrequited love. If a little problematic.’

Frankie gulped before she said, ‘I’ve never seen any of those musicals.’

Dylan’s eyes grew wide. ‘You’ve never seen Les Mis?’

‘I’ve never been to London. We don’t get a whole lot of theatre companies touring the island, in case that wasn’t obvious. Although we did see a bit of outdoor Hamlet on Guernsey once.’

He snorted. Then his eyes grew wide. ‘You’ve never been to London. Oh my God.’

‘I read a lot of novels, though, and it’s a theme in a lot of those, I guess.’ She shrugged.

‘Yes,’ he said, waving his fork about again. ‘Now you’re talking. Yes. Great Expectations. Wuthering Heights. Remains of the Day. It’s a classic trope. The one you want desperately but can’t have. Tragic, pining, yearning, all that stuff. Ooh, now I need some paper.’

He was the most animated she’d seen him all day. He even leapt up to grab some paper and a pen off a bemused Charlie at the bar, then began scribbling notes furiously while eating mouthfuls of his steak with the other hand.

‘What are you writing?’ Frankie laughed, trying to sound casual and that he hadn’t just ripped the bottom out of her world with all his talk about people’s friends being in love with them.

‘You’ve inspired me. You’re like my muse. You and Jake and your tragic love story.’

‘We don’t have a tragic love story,’ said Frankie. ‘He’s just Jake.’

‘You might not. But he definitely does.’ Dylan motioned with his fork to where Jake was sitting, nodding politely at whatever Sally was discussing.

‘What? Look at him. There’s no story there.’

‘Keep watching,’ said Dylan, mouth full of chips.

Sure enough, after a moment or two Jake’s eyes slid to hers. When he caught them both looking at him, he looked mortified and immediately dropped his gaze to the table. Dylan made a triumphant noise and went back to eating his steak. Frankie kept watching, intrigued. Sure enough, a few seconds later, Jake glanced over at her again. This time he caught and held her gaze a second too long. Frankie looked down, feeling rather hot.

Dylan was bloody right. How had she never noticed before? Poor Jake. She resolved to treat him a little better in future at least.

She waited until Dylan had taken a swig of his pint. ‘Maybe he’s in love with you, not me,’ she said quietly, enjoying watching him struggle to keep the liquid in his mouth.

When he’d got himself under control he laughed out loud. ‘Unlikely. But then, I do have that effect on people.’

‘Clearly,’ she said.

Dylan blinked at her. Once. Twice. ‘Your mum…’ he said, looking down at his pint, his fingers playing around the base of the glass.