Page 56 of Washed Up

‘Just what? You think this is all in my head? Is that it? You think someone like Dylan would never be interested in someone like me?’

Jake rocked back on his heels as if he was about to speak, then clearly thought better of it. Sally patted the wall beside her.

‘Sit down, Franks.’

Frankie crossed her arms. ‘I’m fine, standing, thanks.’

Sally mirrored her movement, her jaw tightening. ‘Look, it’s not that we don’t think he’d be into you.’

‘Of course not,’ Jake piped up, then clamped his mouth shut again.

‘So, what is it?’

‘Well, have you heard yourself?’ said Sally slowly. Carefully. ‘Talking about Ed Sheeran and how Dylan just played another gig and all that. Meanwhile we’ve spent the day moving suitcases for a load of people all trying to find the one bloody spot where it’s quiet on this tiny bloody island.’

‘So?’ said Frankie again, aware she sounded like a spoiled toddler.

Jake spoke. ‘We’re worlds apart, Frankie. Surely you can see that?’

Frankie flushed red, fists clenching. He was right, she knew he was right, but somehow, this confrontation, this intervention, whatever it was, was making her want to scream. She took a breath before she replied. Tears prickled at her eyes and she swallowed them back. ‘Look, you two. I’m not an idiot. I know this is never going to happen, right? How could it ever happen? We are worlds apart, you’re right, Jake, of course you are, and it’s just totally impossible. I know that.’

Sally and Jake wisely kept quiet.

‘But…’ she went on, her breathing getting ragged, ‘but it’s okay to dream, isn’t it? Who am I hurting by dreaming? Tell me, because I want to know. What harm is it doing to indulge this little fantasy or whatever it is for a bit longer? It’s not like there’s anything else going on around here, is it?’

She spat the last few words out and Jake recoiled as if he’d been struck. Him. She was hurting him.

‘Well?’ said Frankie, looking directly at him, willing Jake to say something, anything, to show a bit of backbone. But he held his hands up.

‘I think you’ve made your point,’ he said quietly. ‘Far be it for us, your friends, to interfere.’

Frankie’s eyes properly filled with tears. ‘Sorry, I…’

‘No, forget it,’ said Sally, standing up and recrossing her arms. ‘You’ve made your point, like Jake said. Good luck with the megastar. Come on, Jake. Let’s get a drink.’

She grabbed Jake’s arm and led him down the path without another word. As they reached the bend in the road, Jake looked back over his shoulder, his face enquiring, still kind even after she’d behaved so badly, as if he knew Frankie would be feeling terrible. She held his gaze until they were out of sight, then dropped back down onto the low wall, eyes streaming tears, regret washing over her in guilty waves, leaving her stomach nauseous. Or maybe it was just hunger. Either way, she felt like shit.

Her two best friends in the world and she had to treat them like that, just because they’d come so painfully, humiliatingly close to identifying how she already felt about herself. She was embarrassed and pathetic and she knew it. Of course, Dylan was never going to come back here. Of course it would never work between them. She had been an idiot for ever thinking it might.

But without it, without that hope that had been swelling her chest for the last few days, making her feel wanted, desirable, perhaps for the first time in her life… without it she was afraid she might be totally lost.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Laying low wasn’t exactly easy on Herm, but the following day was Frankie’s day off and she spent it as far from the centre of the island as she could manage, sitting near the rocks at Alderney point until her back ached. She stared across the sea to Sark island, which always looked like it was emerging from the ocean like a relic from ancient times. She could have sworn Sally was calling her name at one point, and she ducked her head lower behind the dunes, shame rising in her throat like bile.

Finally, late in the day, Sally messaged her.

Sally: Can we talk? We were out of line yesterday, I’m so sorry.

Relief flooded through her even as that ‘we’ stood out, and a tinge of jealousy bloomed. Was that what Sally had been going to say? Did she know about Jake?

She tapped out a response.

Frankie: Yes, of course. Pub?

Sally: Dinner? Hotel? My treat?

Frankie: Sure.