Page 39 of Washed Up

‘Why not? Honesty’s the best policy and all that. Besides, men like a challenge.’

‘You are such a dinosaur. Feminists everywhere would be rolling in their graves or whatever. Anyway, what would have been the point?’

‘Does everything have to have a point?’

Frankie sighed. ‘He was only here for a day. He absolutely does not need to know what a pathetic loser I am. Everyone else does.’

‘I don’t think you’re a pathetic loser,’ said Sally with a shrug.

‘How about now?’ said Frankie, turning back to the phone and tapping ‘Dylan W’ into the search bar. And there it was. He had his own account. Her heart thumped in her ears as she passed the phone back to Sally. She really needed to get her own smartphone so she could do some proper stalking.

‘Yeah, that was pretty pathetic,’ said Sally. ‘Come on, let’s get some breakfast and you can tell me all about that helicopter. All I know is, it was loud…’

‘So loud,’ said Frankie with a weak smile, trying to ignore the deep, dull ache in her chest.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The Stargazer was empty, which was no surprise. With everyone waiting for the ferry to arrive from Guernsey to welcome all the delayed, and probably rather disgruntled, tourists ready for their holidays, there was still a lot to do. Frankie should have been doing it too, she knew she should. Yet somehow, all motivation had left her.

One thing was for sure, she was relieved to see her mum and dad having breakfast together in one of the booths. At least they’d decided to bunk off work for a bit, too. Her father was pale but looked a damn sight better than the previous day.

‘Dr Mac is coming over, before you say anything,’ said Brian a little grimly, as she planted a kiss on the top of his head.

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said Frankie.

‘Morning, darling,’ said Lily. ‘How’s that gorgeous young man of yours today?’

Frankie blinked away a rogue tear. ‘If you mean Dylan, he’s not mine. And he’s already gone.’

‘What?’ Her mother practically choked on her toast.

‘Didn’t you hear the helicopter?’ said Sally. ‘He only got a freakin’ helicopter to come and get him. Landed it in Fisherman’s Field like he was the bloody royal family or something.’

‘So he was who he said he was?’ said Brian, giving Frankie one of his ‘looks’.

‘He was,’ she said, swallowing back the lump in her throat.

‘I liked him,’ said her dad, waving a lump of sausage around on his fork.

‘So did I,’ said Lily, not even attempting to sound anything other than completely lascivious.

‘He’s old enough to be your son. Young enough. Young enough to be your son,’ said Brian, but he looked amused if anything. He was used to it by now. Still…

‘Young enough to be my son-in-law?’ said Lily, giving Frankie a pointed look. They all started jeering, Sally nudging her in the ribs to encourage her to play along.

Frankie forced a smile. ‘We’ve really got to get some breakfast,’ she said, desperate to get away. ‘Over there.’ She pointed to the far side of the pub. ‘As far away from you two as possible.’

‘Yeah, we got that hint, thanks, Frankie darling,’ said Lily. ‘We’re finishing up anyway. Two of the Flowers need sorting out later. Come and find me when you’re done?’

‘Will do,’ said Frankie. ‘Who’s getting the incomers?’

‘I’ve asked Jake to go down and help them,’ said Brian. ‘Tide’s in anyway,’ he added, by way of explanation. The oyster fishermen could only harvest at low tide so they often helped out with odd jobs on the island in between shifts. Which was handy, especially today. It was part of Frankie’s family’s duties to help new arrivals off the ferry with their luggage. It was a steep walk up the harbour to the hotel and with no cars on the island, this was usually done by her dad in his tiny tractor, or sometimes by hand. Either way, it was hard going.

‘Let me know what the doctor says,’ said Frankie.

‘Will do,’ said Brian, giving her a mini salute.

‘Even better, tell us when he gets here,’ said Sally. ‘I love Dr Mac.’