Page 57 of Washed Up

Sally: No Jake this time. Just us. 7pm.

Frankie: Sounds great.

She looked at her watch. Just enough time to get home and de-sand before dinner. Perfect. As she brushed herself down, slipped on her flip-flops and headed back to the Manor she pondered that ‘we’ again.

She was being paranoid. Of course she was. Besides, didn’t Jake deserve to be happy? Maybe he and Sally would be a good team. Perhaps he’d finally realised what a scumbag Frankie was and decided he didn’t want her after all. Who could blame him after that display outside the hotel? Spinsterhood was all she deserved.

Her phone flashed up a notification. Instagram message. Her heart did a little somersault.

Dylan: So sorry, Frankie. I’ve looked at July but we are totally booked up with gigs and stuff. Another time though. Take care of Herm for me till then x

Something shifted and lurched inside her.

It was a goodbye.

Was that a goodbye?

It sounded like a goodbye.

An hour later, Frankie thrust her phone at Sally as soon as she sat down.

‘Good evening to you, too.’

‘Never mind that, tell me if you think this is a goodbye.’

Sally studied the screen. ‘Hmmm,’ was all she said.

‘Looks like you and Jake were right after all,’ said Frankie, snatching it back and putting it face down on the table beside her. ‘I hope you’re happy.’

‘Well…’ said Sally vaguely, studying the menu even though she must know it off by heart by now.

‘I’m sorry about yesterday,’ said Frankie with a sigh. ‘There, I’ve said it. Now can you tell me what you think of the message?’

‘I think…’ said Sally. ‘I think it’s a goodbye. But what do I know?’

‘I knew it. Dammit,’ said Frankie, and something slumped inside her. That teeny tiny kernel of hope that had been lingering, stunted but surviving, hanging on even in the darkness, even with nothing to feed on except the odd casual IG message, had survived a whole week. But today, right in this moment, that kernel gave up the ghost. Frankie didn’t know much about love, wasn’t sure she even wanted to know much about it, but even without Sally’s confirmation, she could recognise a goodbye when she saw one.

It still hurt like hell.

Frankie had never had her heart broken before but she knew the drill. Anywhere else but here and she would have curled up into a ball for a bit, before or after consuming an entire carton of banana ice cream. But no. They were out In Public, in the hotel and she needed to keep it together. Fortunately, Andy the waiter appeared at that moment, so instead of comforting ice cream they ordered crayfish tails and chips and large glasses of wine. Andy was Betty from Belvoir Bay’s son. He looked good in a shirt and tie and was all but mute except when serving people their dinner. The perfect waiter, basically.

When he’d sidled away, Frankie groaned. ‘It is a goodbye,’ she said despondently.

‘Why do you care so much anyway?’ said Sally, putting a hand on hers good-naturedly. ‘I know we’ve well and truly rained on your parade, but we’d be supportive if he came back and swept you off your feet or whatever. It just seems unlikely, you know? And anyhow, I know he was hot but I don’t see how you can have so much riding on a guy you met for one day.’ She paused, then blushed. ‘Probably shouldn’t have mentioned riding him.’

Frankie gave her a weak smile at best and Sally sighed. ‘Sorry. No more jokes, point taken. So what is it about this guy, Frankie? Seriously?’

Frankie let out a long breath. ‘I love him,’ she said simply.

As the words came out of her mouth, words she’d never spoken before in her life except to her parents, big, powerful, serious words, she knew they were true and they were ridiculous all at once.

Sally scoffed. ‘You can’t love someone you only met for one day. Even I know that.’

Frankie flushed. ‘I can. And I do. I can’t explain it, Sally.’

‘Try.’

‘I don’t know. He was really, really super annoying to start with. I just wanted to get him off Herm as fast as I could.’