Page 32 of Washed Up

‘Not much. She talked about herself, mainly. And Finland, weirdly.’

‘What?’

‘Yeah. Finland. She was going on about how she’d been to Europe’s largest department store. It’s in Helsinki, apparently. Then she started going on about a cute security guard on the door. I zoned out at that point.’

‘Yikes, sorry. She does that.’

‘Is that why you call her Lily, not mum?’ said Dylan, and his words sliced into her soul.

‘You noticed that?’ said Frankie.

‘Of course I did,’ he said. ‘You call your dad, well, Dad, but Lily is always Lily. To her face at least.’

Frankie considered her answer carefully. ‘It’s been that way for a while,’ she said eventually. ‘I don’t even notice I’m doing it any more. It’s hard to explain but Lily and I have always been more like friends, I suppose, than parent–child. If anything, she’s more like the child. It doesn’t mean I don’t love her or anything, I don’t want you to think that. It’s just that I find it hard to call her Mum. Always have.’

‘I get that,’ said Dylan, his voice soft.

Frankie ran a hand down her face. ‘Long answer there, sorry.’

‘It’s fine. I did ask. Like I said, she seems like a lot,’ he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

‘She is.’

‘And yet you’re…’

‘I’m what?’ What? Gorgeous? Amazing? Hot? The love of your life?

‘You’re… different.’

Oh. ‘Oh. Thanks.’

‘In a good way,’ he said quickly. ‘In a really good way.’

‘Anyone for pudding?’ said Charlie, his voice slicing through the tension between them.

‘I’m game,’ said Dylan, rubbing his non-existent belly. Frankie tried not to stare.

‘Me too,’ she said. ‘Bring it on.’

Different how?

When they were so full of sticky toffee pudding they could barely move, and Charlie had rung the bell for last orders three times and the pub began to empty as islanders and tourists alike reluctantly made their way out into the windy night, Frankie knew she couldn’t eke it out any longer. They were going to have to call it a night. Pins and needles prickled her arms at the thought of what might happen next, Sally’s words ringing in her ears. If you don’t… I will.

Even though she knew he knew the way, even though it was probably a terrible idea, even though Sally worked there, for God’s sake, Frankie walked Dylan back to the hotel. They lingered in the foyer. I’m different how? She was desperate to ask but couldn’t think how to steer the conversation back.

‘Well, here we are,’ she said.

‘Thanks for an exciting day.’ He grinned, one cheek revealing a dimple. It was a good job he was leaving, otherwise it would be the death of her, that dimple.

‘It certainly wasn’t boring.’

‘Hope your dad’s okay.’

‘Yeah. Thanks.’

They stared at each other. Frankie swallowed down the overwhelming need to touch him. To feel those lips on hers. To beg him not to leave.

‘Want to come up?’ he said after a moment, as if reading her mind.