Page 31 of Washed Up

Frankie tore her eyes away from the movement of his hands at that. Here we go. ‘I know, she’s gorgeous.’

‘That’s not what I was going to say.’ He was studying her, his dark blue eyes flecked with silver.

‘It’s not? That’d be a first.’

‘No. It’s not. I was going to say, and don’t take this the wrong way, but your mum is a piece of work.’

Frankie’s fork paused in mid-air. ‘Oh. That is definitely not what I thought you were going to say.’

Dylan grinned. ‘I’m not just a walking cliché, you know.’

Familiar heat washed up and over her cheeks. She’d blushed more today than ever in her life. Another thing that was infuriating about him. ‘It’s just, most people comment on how hot she is. How well she’s aged. How she’s a MILF. All of that stuff.’

Dylan huffed out a laugh. ‘You’ve never seen Hamilton but you know the phrase MILF?’

‘What can I say? There wasn’t much to do on the island at night-time but read books and watch crappy old movies.’

Dylan bristled. ‘American Pie is a classic.’

‘Ha ha, calm down. It’s just all right.’

He waved a chip at her. ‘It’s a classic. This one time, at band camp…’

Frankie snorted into her G&T. ‘Fine. It’s a classic.’

‘My point is,’ he went on, ‘growing up with a mum like that… it must have been hard.’

A small noise escaped from Frankie’s lips before she could stop it.

‘Shit, sorry,’ said Dylan, touching the back of her hand with his. ‘Didn’t mean to hit a nerve.’

She shook her head. ‘You didn’t. Sorry. I don’t know what happened there.’ Her voice was scratchy in her throat. ‘You didn’t. I…’

‘I just meant, she’s a lot, eh? We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, though.’

She shook her head. ‘It’s fine. It’s just you’re the first…’ It was still a struggle to speak. ‘No one…’

Dylan crossed his knife and fork on his empty plate, then sat back in his chair, arms crossed. ‘It’s okay. I’ll wait,’ he said.

The phrase hung in the air. God, I hope so, thought Frankie.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Dylan was right. Growing up with Lily as her mother had been hard. Beyond hard. Lily was everything Frankie wasn’t. Gorgeous, for a start, but also animated, exciting. Experienced. In fact, Dylan hadn’t seen the half of what she could be like. She flirted with every man on the island. Every tourist who got off the boat. Lily had travelled the world extensively in her youth and she made no bones about the number of encounters she’d had along the way, before she’d met Brian and supposedly settled down. Sometimes, when she was under the influence or simply looking to embarrass Frankie or hurt Brian, she liked to talk about those experiences in detail. It was excruciating at the best of times but when she talked about it in front of her poor father, Frankie wanted the ground to swallow her up.

Frankie had never known why she did it. Was it to feel young again, perhaps? Or as simple as wanting to be the centre of attention? It had certainly got worse as Frankie had got older, as she’d started to be noticed by men in her own right. The island wasn’t exactly full of eligible men but Frankie had always wondered how she would even go about having a relationship given Lily’s behaviour. How would her mum react if she had a boyfriend? If it was anything like the way she reacted around Dylan, Frankie had no hope. She had to get off this bloody island. As soon as she thought it, she felt guilty. She loved this island.

‘You okay?’ said Dylan, breaking into her thoughts with that deep gravelly voice of his.

‘What? Oh. Yeah, I’m fine,’ she muttered. ‘Sorry, I was just thinking about…’

‘Your mum?’

‘Yeah. What did she say to you? You know, when you were walking up the hill to see Dad. Thanks for doing that, by the way. Did I say thank you? I’m not sure if I said thank you.’

Dylan smiled at her, properly smiled, and she felt it down to her toes. ‘You did. And you’re welcome.’

‘What did she say to you, though?’ She couldn’t help but push. It was like picking a scab before it was ready. She really did and also didn’t want to know what was underneath.