Frankie and Joely (13 page)

Chapter 26

‘You're out of practice, Joely,' says Jill, looking at her pathetic attempt to make the butter and flour into dough.

‘Sorry, Jill. Everything hurts, even my fingers.' Joely wonders why she didn't just stay in bed all day instead of offering to help.

Jill laughs and pulls the bowl over to finish the job. ‘Turn the stove on for me. One hundred and eighty degrees, please.'

The stove is one of those black cast-iron things from another time. You have to turn on the gas and hold the match inside at the back until it ignites. The first time Joely lit it, she singed the hairs on her arm and her mum lectured Jill for nearly an hour about the inappropriateness of giving a child matches. As she'd rubbed the acrid stubbled hairs from her arm, Joely was happy that Jill had trusted her to help out. She wasn't allowed to do anything at home, not even reheat pasta.

Now she lights it without burning anything, then takes out the old steel tray and starts dusting it with flour. Jill's finished mixing the dough and is cutting it into perfect circles.

‘Don't think these would win any prizes,' says Jill,
brushing the mounds with milk and tucking them close together on the tray.

Joely remembers Jill explaining how scones like to be huddled together when they cook. The ones in the middle always rise the most, just like people.

‘You missed that one,' says Joely, pointing at a scone.

‘See. That's why I need you here!'

Joely slides the heavy tray into the oven and sits at the kitchen table waiting for her cup of tea to steep. There are so many routines and traditions in this house. Jill adds milk to the cups, but doesn't sit down. She never really sits. She's always wiping, cutting or cleaning something. She's just about the busiest person Joely's ever seen.

‘So where's Frankie today?'

‘Gone to get some makeup for my face.'

‘She's a good friend,' says Jill.

Joely nods and her brain feels like it's slamming around in her head. ‘Yes. She is.'

‘I had a best friend at high school. Rebecca McLean. Thought she was the bee's knees. And she was. For a while. Then she tried to date Ged after I'd already spotted him. That was the end of her.' Jill laughs.

It always amazes Joely to hear about her aunt and uncle falling in love when they were just a bit older than she was. But at the same time she doesn't like what Jill is trying to say.

‘Frankie's not like that,' says Joely wanting to defend her friend against the possibility.

‘Course not. But Rebecca was. Told her what was what and we never spoke again.' Jill laughs, but Joely doesn't join in, worried now that Jill doesn't think her friend is worthy.
And she doesn't know how to make her understand that
she is. Luckily Jill starts hand-whipping a bowl of cream. Joely likes the clunking of the beaters turning against each other and moving through the cream. It's much nicer than the buzz of the electric mixer her mum uses to make her green smoothies.

‘Grab us the jams.'

Joely can't believe she forgot. She's always the jam getter. Moving slowly, she goes to the fridge and takes out six different jars, all with labels noting the date and the fruit that's inside. She lines them up in the middle of the table. Then she takes out six delicate spoons that were given to Jill and Ged on their wedding day. They're real silver and the handles are so thin that you have to hold them poshly between two fingers.

By the time Jill's finished beating the cream, the scones are dragged from the oven, hot and plump and smelling all buttery. Joely can't believe how hungry she suddenly is. She wishes that Ged and her cousins were here to eat them too. But it's always been like this. The boys off working outside, while Jill and Joely bake inside.

When Joely's mum used to come to the farm, she'd go on and on about how sexist it was because the men were outside in the world and the women were trapped inside the kitchen. She said it was the reason she'd never live on the farm. Joely remembers Jill laughing at her and saying the real reason she wouldn't live on a farm was because she hated farming.

‘Just hang on a sec,' says Jill disappearing outside.

While she's gone, Joely places the best plates on the table and spoons the cream into a glass bowl. The scones wait to be eaten.

‘Pretty?' Jill comes in with a bunch of flowers and herbs. ‘It's called a tussie mussie,' she says, arranging the posy in a blue vase.

‘A tussie what?'

Jill laughs. ‘Mussie. It's a nineteenth-century term for a talking bouquet. Each flower or herb is picked to say something to the person receiving it. It's like a secret code.'

‘Really?' Joely pulls a face, unsure if her aunt is being honest or joking.

‘Really. It was the way people told each other how they felt. Before all you young people and your phones.'

Joely laughs. ‘You sound ancient when you say things like that. Besides, you have a phone.'

‘Two scones or three?' Jill arranges the scones on the plates.

‘At least three. I'm starving. I didn't have any dinner last night remember?'

Jill drops a large spoonful of cream onto a scone and pops it in her mouth. As she chews, she says, ‘Nope, they definitely wouldn't win a ribbon. Too dry. Not enough butter.'

‘I think they're yummy,' says Joely shoving half in her mouth and making Jill smile.

As Joely eats, Jill buries her face in the flowers and breathes in.

‘So what does this tussie mussie say?' says Joely through a mouthful of scone.

‘Well, this is rosemary for remembrance and you know this one, don't you?' Jill points to a long purple flower.

Joely frowns. ‘Obviously the rosemary isn't working. No remembrance here.'

‘It's lavender. It's for devotion.'

Joely laughs. ‘Nice. And what's the mint for?'

‘Ah. That's to say don't worry about the small things.'

‘Oh, I like that one.'

‘Yes, it's sweet isn't it. And this is a daisy for innocence.'

‘What's that one for?' Joely says, pointing to a cluster of pale blue flowers.

‘Those are forget-me-nots. They're for true love.'

Joely pretends to swoon like she's in love, making Jill smile. ‘You watch. You'll fall in love one of these days.'

‘Maybe …' Joely says. She thinks about kissing Rory on the road in the dark, how her heart raced and her legs felt weak. She wonders how it will feel the next time they kiss.

‘I loved your uncle from the moment I saw him. He was demonstrating how to milk a cow.'

‘Ew. Gross.'

‘He was handsome. Still is.'

This kind of conversation makes Joely embarrassed. She never hears adults talk about love. Not in the way Jill does: easily and unashamed. Her mum never tells her anything much. Joely doesn't think she even notices men. She's just never recovered from hating her dad.

Jill leans close. ‘Must get a bit quiet in your house.'

‘It's like a tomb.'

‘You know you can always come and stay here. I can fix it with your mum.'

Joely doesn't want to speak, so she nods. She feels weird talking about her mum to anyone else. Even Jill. As much as it sucks living with a mother who hassles her about everything, she still doesn't want to think badly of her, at least not out loud.

‘Can I get some more Panadol? My head feels like it's going to explode.'

‘Go hop into bed and I'll bring you some.'

‘Thanks, Jill.'

As Joely shuffles out of the kitchen, she wonders how much longer Frankie will be, and hopes she manages to get all the stuff to make her face better. She can't go to the party looking like this. Rory would think she was hideous.

Chapter 27

Chemist still not open! x

Frankie presses send as she sits down on the stinking hot concrete in front of the chemist, sliding the bags from the op shop down next to her. Obviously eleven o'clock in the city means something entirely different to eleven o'clock in Payne.

She knows she should call her mum again to check in and make sure everything is okay, but the distance is changing everything. Today, instead of feeling worried, she just feels free. Her phone beeps. It's Joely.

Get jellybeans too.

Black?

xx

Two kisses. Frankie smiles. She was right.

‘Buying up big?' says a voice from above.

Rory. She doesn't want to meet him here. Not with all her things from the op shop. She doesn't want him to dismiss them, laugh at her, or just not get it.

‘Hi,' she says, looking up. He's not looking at the bags of shopping at all. He's looking straight at her. ‘I was hoping I'd see you today.'

‘Oh. Why?' says Frankie deliberately being coy.

‘You know why.' He sits down close to her, sharing the window of the chemist.

‘What's in the bags?'

‘Stuff.' Frankie grips the bags tighter.

‘Want to see something?' says Rory.

Frankie looks at him, wondering what it is he'll show her. ‘I'm waiting for the chemist to open.'

‘It'll be open by the time we get back.' He's already standing.

‘Sure,' she says, pretending she feels as certain as she sounds.

Frankie has to walk fast to keep up with him. The two bags of clothes bang against her legs, making her hot and irritable. She hopes it's not far, whatever this
thing
is they're seeing. People look at her as she passes, and she wonders if that's why Rory is walking ahead of her, so nobody knows they're together. She hates feeling like this, so she skips to catch up and slips her hand into his. It's not even sweaty. He gives her a strange look. It's surprised, worried even, a look she hasn't noticed before. Not that she really knows him. But he doesn't pull away and she's pleased.

They walk towards the train station, not talking, down the dusty road, and further still. Frankie's sweating and the flies are annoying her. She can sort of understand why Joely gets cross that she's never bothered by the sun. That's how Frankie feels walking along with Rory.

‘Is it always this hot?' says Frankie, channelling her best friend.

‘Nah. Sometimes it gets even hotter.' Rory jumps onto a gravel road behind the train station. He pulls her arm. She jumps down and crashes into him, too close. She waits for him to kiss her, but he doesn't. Instead, he whispers, ‘Close your eyes.'

Without thinking, Frankie screws up her eyes, and doesn't even peep. If she was at home in the city, and a boy she barely knew had led her somewhere quiet and asked her to close her eyes, she'd run. But here she feels weirdly safe because it's not like anything she knows.

His hands take hers, forcing her to drop the bags. For a second she's worried, not wanting anything to happen to the green coat, but he starts pulling and tugging her along, until he stops and lets go of her hands.

‘Open your eyes,' he says, and she does. Blinking away the glare, she stares at the concrete wall at the back of the station, and sees a beautiful colourful painting of a creature. She looks closer and sees tentacles wrapped around something, hugging or strangling it maybe. The one eye that looks out bores straight into her. She can't speak. She just looks. She knows Rory is watching her and she wonders what he wants her to say.

‘Wow,' is all she manages as she notices intricate details of tiny wings across the green body and large, pointed horns.

‘Did you …?' she asks even though she knows there is no way a boy like Rory could paint something so huge.

He laughs. ‘Nah. Just thought you'd like to see a bit of city in the country. It's the only good graffiti we have.'

Disappointed, she turns to him. ‘What I like about being here is that it isn't the city.'

He shrugs and she wants to punch him. He doesn't get it at all.

Frankie starts walking away. ‘I've gotta go.'

She knows he'll chase after her. She knows because he's trying to impress her. She feels his hand on her arm and she lets him spin her around. They bang into each other and kiss, furiously and angrily, and not at all like Frankie wants to be kissed. But she lets him because, despite it all, she likes him.

As he stops and lets her breathe, he smiles, and his eyes look real. Frankie touches his face, pulls his mouth down towards hers and kisses him properly.

‘You taste like ice-cream,' she says quietly, their faces still together.

He doesn't answer, just kisses her again, and this time it's almost tender.

‘You going to the party tomorrow?'

‘I don't know,' says Frankie.

‘You should.'

She smiles at him. ‘Okay. I'll bring Joely, too.'

‘Sure. Just try to lose Mack on the way, will ya?'

Frankie laughs. ‘Why?'

‘Long story.' He kisses her again, sliding his hands over her bum. She counts in her head: one second, two seconds, three seconds. When she reaches five, she steps away, not wanting him to touch her wherever he likes. It's the only thing she's learnt from watching her mum: not to be used, not like that.

‘I've gotta go,' says Frankie. She skips away, grabbing the bags from the ground. Squinting into the sun, she remembers the new sunglasses and pushes her hand into a bag to find them. It takes a few goes and Rory's caught up by the time she slips them on.

‘Where'd you get them?' he says.

She gives him a stare that she knows he'll never see.

‘They're my dad's aviator sunnies. He's a pilot.' She's not even sure that pilots wear sunglasses like this, but she banks on Rory not knowing either. Besides, if she acts sure enough, he'll be impressed because he has this thing about her being from the city.

‘Cool,' he says and she smiles, loving that she was right.

He takes her hand and pulls her back towards him. ‘Don't go.'

‘You can walk me back to the chemist. But then I have to get the bus back.' She pulls away.

‘I'll dink you on my motorbike,' he says. ‘If you kiss me.'

Frankie laughs. ‘I don't kiss for payment.'

Rory shrugs. ‘It'll be pretty hot on the bus.'

Frankie takes his shrug and raises it with her own. ‘Yeah, I don't care.'

When they get back the metal sign is outside the chemist advertising discounted photographic prints. Frankie smiles, wondering how many people actually bother printing their photos anymore.

‘I'll wait here,' says Rory.

Shrugging, Frankie pushes open the door and steps inside.

Rory watches her through the gaps between the letters painted on the window. She walks around grabbing things, reading them and putting them back. The way she moves makes him want her. She's like a new drink he hasn't tried yet.

Lighting a cigarette, he leans against the window and looks down the street.

‘Can you lend me twenty bucks?' Frankie leans out the chemist door, her hand out, no embarrassment on her face.

‘Depends …'

She gives him a look that makes him take out his wallet and count whatever he has.

‘Eighteen sixty. That's it.'

‘Thanks.' Her hand closes over his and scoops the money away, and Rory knows no matter what he does, she won't make it easy for him.

Frankie counts out the money at the counter, hating that she had to ask Rory for some and knowing it will come back to haunt her. She wishes she could turn around and see him through the window to catch him looking. Frankie knows it would be a mistake to let a boy like that get too close too quick. Besides this holiday was supposed to be about her and Joely hanging out.

‘Can I get a receipt?' She wants to show Joely where all the money went.

Expecting Rory to be gone when she pushes back into the heat, she's surprised that he's still in the same spot she left him.

‘Why are you always where I am?' says Frankie, wanting a real answer.

‘Maybe you're always where I am.'

Shrugging, Frankie wonders why it all seems to be floating away from her: this holiday, her friend who only knows bits of her, and this boy. It's all so fleeting and she can't hold onto it.

If she's lucky the bus will be pulling up just as she gets to the stop. If not, she might be sitting in the sun for another hour. As she walks around the corner, Rory still at her side, she sighs when she can't see it. She could just ask Rory to dink her, but then she'd owe him that plus the eighteen dollars she's borrowed. It's too much. Instead, she kisses him, right under the bus shelter with an old woman watching. She lets him slide his hands across her bum again, thinking that it might cover some of the money she owes and thinking how like her mum she actually is.

She lets him go, and sees Rory looking at something over her shoulder. She turns to see what it is, wondering what could possibly make him smile so strangely.

‘Hey Mack, enjoying the view?' yells Rory with a smile.

‘Fuck,' Frankie says to nobody. She starts smoothing down her skirt, terrified it might be up at the back, but knowing that no matter how much she fixes it, she's already exposed.

She looks behind, hoping Mack's gone, but he's staring, like he's accusing her of something and she's pretty sure she knows what of.

Thinking about Mack telling Joely before her makes Frankie anxious because he'll use it as proof that Frankie is all the things he thinks she is, and she worries Joely will listen. It'll be just like what happened with Jamie Marks at the school dance. Frankie becomes suddenly too aware of how long she's been gone, and the only thing she can think about now is that she has to get back fast to shut Mack up. But what if she's too late?

‘You have to go Rory, please,' she says.

Rory tries to pull her close again. ‘Why do you care if he sees us?'

‘Please.'

Rory shrugs and leans forward to kiss her. Frankie ducks, so he misses.

She considers hurrying over to Mack and asking him not to say anything, but she sees Mack pull on his helmet, and she knows he's heading straight home.

‘See ya tomorrow,' Rory says as the bus pulls up and he slinks off, lighting a cigarette, leaving Frankie to hop on the bus with all of her shopping.

The only seats left are on the sunny side. Frankie takes one at the front to avoid passing a long line of glares. The seat is hot. She tucks her legs under her and tries not to sit back against the melting vinyl. The bus takes off and she is tossed around like she's on a ride at an amusement park.

As the bus drives down the main street, she sees Rory laughing with a blonde girl. He's touching her bare shoulder. Frankie turns to see them, but the bus turns too, and Rory disappears. She wonders who the girl is, and that starts her wondering about all the things she doesn't know about Rory. The way he seemed to enjoy being caught by Mack comes back to her, and fear starts spreading through her. She was the one who said this holiday would be all about her and Joely, and now she's been caught with Rory when she was supposed to be going to the chemist. Quickly, she makes herself stop thinking, but for some reason, all she sees is Thommo's face. She remembers the gentle way he talks to her, the way he makes her feel, and she realises that it's not Rory she wants to kiss at all.

She hears Mack's motorbike roar past and tries to look out the window, but the sun is so strong she can't open her eyes.

Now she's worrying about Joely,
and
Thommo too, and hoping she'll beat Mack home. She wonders what he'll say, whether he'll tell them. She could tell Joely, but she doesn't want her thinking that Frankie is using this holiday as a way to meet boys, so she has to get to Mack first.

The old tree is coming up on the left, so she stands up and calls to the driver to stop. There's a squeak of brakes as the driver responds.

She hears Mack's motorbike, but can't see it as she hops off and runs up the long driveway towards the house.