Page 47 of Washed Up

‘Uh-oh,’ said Frankie.

‘Yup,’ said Jake.

‘Lead the way.’ She shrugged, and the group fell into step easily behind her as if they’d been waiting for her to show up. That wasn’t a great sign. Derek and Dave the donkeys were notoriously difficult but they seemed to like Frankie more than other humans, so it usually fell to her to do the donkey wrestling if any was required.

‘Were you waiting for me?’ she said to Brian as they headed up the hill into the centre of the island. He didn’t reply straight away. ‘Dad? Are you okay?’

He was breathing heavily and was it her imagination or did he look a little grey in the face?

‘What, love? Oh, yeah, I’m okay. Where were you?’

‘Sorry, I hopped on the boat to Guernsey. Needed to do some shopping. I did leave you a note.’

‘That’s fine, that’s fine,’ said Brian, still puffing. ‘I was panicking. We thought maybe you’d gone off chasing that boy.’

‘What boy?’ said Frankie as innocently as she could.

This time her dad didn’t even bother to respond. He simply raised his bushy eyebrows and she flushed a deep shade of tomato. Dammit. As if she would have gone off chasing that boy. It was preposterous, and yet even hearing her dad say the words had given her a little frisson of excitement down her spine.

Frankie stopped to listen as they reached the top of the hill, but could hear no sign of donkey mayhem yet. There was a bit of shouting going on, which she had assumed was someone playing ball games on Belvoir beach nearby but no, when they turned right towards the campsite, it immediately became clear why.

Seagulls was the campsite that Frankie’s mum and dad ran alongside their holiday cottage business. The tents were permanently set up in the field so visitors didn’t have to bring their own gear. And they were usually pretty sturdy in normal circumstances. However, they were definitely not donkey proof. Two of the large safari tents appeared to have developed an extremely unhealthy lean, and one more was in pieces on the floor. Campers were standing around everywhere, scratching their heads at the chaos, except for the children who were standing in a circle, practically giddy with delight. For there, right in the middle of the scene, were two little brown donkeys, otherwise known as Derek and Dave, looking across at her all innocent, even though Dave somehow had a beach towel draped over his shoulders and Derek was standing with his front two feet on a low stool like he was performing a circus trick.

But what really did it for Frankie was the moment she realised Sally was also in the middle of the scene. She’d managed to get a headcollar onto Dave but he had planted his feet and was point blank refusing to move, much to the amusement of all the onlookers. Her face was purple with fury as she yanked at the rope.

‘It’s not funny, Frankie,’ said her dad as she burst out laughing. ‘Those bloody donkeys are a total menace.’

‘Come on, Dad. Lighten up. Look at their little faces.’

‘Don’t give me that, they’re more trouble than their worth. They’ve made a bloody mess of the site. These tents aren’t cheap, you know.’

‘It’s traditional,’ said Frankie. ‘Donkeys and Herm go together like cheese and wine.’

‘Both leave you with terrible regrets in the morning if that’s what you mean.’

Frankie glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, the other members of the ‘rescue party’ were lingering back, not quite sure what to do.

‘Jake, follow me and do what I do,’ she said, leaving the others where they were.

He followed a little shyly, hat in hand. ‘I’ve never been great with donkeys,’ he said, glancing at her. ‘I prefer oysters. You know where you are with oysters.’

‘Pfft. These guys are the best. You’ll see,’ she said, briskly, trying not to look at her watch or think about her phone and whether a certain someone might be replying to her message RIGHT THIS VERY MINUTE. ‘Let’s go.’

‘Help,’ wailed Sally as they approached, heaving on the lead rope to no avail. ‘Dave is a bloody menace.’

‘That’s what Brian said.’ Jake laughed.

‘Don’t yank him like that. No wonder he’s not moving,’ said Frankie.

‘What the heck am I supposed to do, genius?’ said Sally.

‘Appreciate those little faces,’ said Frankie as two sets of large brown eyes turned her way. She gave Dave a little cuddle, deftly untangling the towel from around his neck as she did so. His ears were drooping on either side of his head and she gave them a rub and the donkey responded immediately, lifting his head so she could scratch under his chin. ‘And what exactly are you doing there, young man?’ she said, turning to Derek, still balancing proudly on his stool.

Derek blinked at her as though he understood every word. She was convinced he did. Donkeys had been on the island for decades, at least until the tenants decided they were a menace and evicted them back to the mainland. When Frankie’s family arrived on Herm, they petitioned for their return but it honestly was a case of be careful what you wish for. Now the Jacks family were seen as the donkeys’ custodians by the other islanders and they took great delight in passing the buck to them – well, Frankie, whenever there was an issue. Which was all the time. Much like Blondie, they loved to roam all over the island and despite the humans’ best and most inventive efforts to keep them in a field or stable, they simply would not be contained. At least once a week her father threatened to send them back where they came from.

Frankie ran her fingers through Derek’s thick coat, scratching his ears as he lowered his head at her touch, eyes closing. ‘Come on, boys,’ she said after a few minutes of this, taking off her jumper and wrapping it around his neck as a makeshift headcollar. Once Derek was semi secure, she waved the children over and they came close, touching the donkeys with gentle fingers.

They were not the only ones. Jake had come forward tentatively at first but before long he was scratching donkey ears and touching soft donkey noses with the best of them. ‘I see what you mean,’ he said, looking up at her and beaming.