The Late Blossoming of Frankie Green (33 page)

‘Yes,' he said, hanging his head in shame. ‘She was all wild and crazy, then when it happened it was awful, the least enjoyable moment of my life. It was my fault, I put all these expectations on her and me and then, well, it was just wooden and flat and there was no feeling in it. That's when I knew I'd fucked up. But I couldn't come running back to you straight away.'

Feeling drained all of a sudden, Frankie sat down on the bed next to him. ‘But why didn't you just tell me all of that?' she asked.

‘Because I felt... not worthy. And you were changing, so alive and beautiful and I thought you wouldn't want me anymore.'

‘Oh, Jason.'

‘That's why I took the job when Dad sold the business. To prove myself.'

‘And I'm really proud of you,' she said, turning to him. She wanted him to see that he had a reason to feel he'd moved forward too, not just her. However much he had damaged her, she still loved him.

‘But that's been a disaster too. I just haven't got what it takes. I wish I had, but I'm no good with the business side of it. I've tried, I really have. I've told the directors that I'm stepping down. Once they've found a replacement, I'm going back on site, with the boys, that's where I'm happiest.'

Frankie's heart sank. She felt deeply sorry for him.

‘I think I'm going to go,' he said, looking half the man he'd been at the oyster bar.

‘You don't have to,' she said, feebly because what she needed right now was some room to process the events of the night.

‘No, I do. You need the space, not me. I want you to come first from now on,' he said, groping around for his clothes on the floor.

He got dressed and turned to her. ‘You looked amazing tonight,' he said. ‘And what you did, in bed, was incredible. But I don't need you to be like that. I love the old Frankie.'

She went to get up to show him out.

‘I think I know where I'm going,' he said, smiling, ‘You stay there. You know, I wish I could turn back the clock to our anniversary. I'd never have said what I said if I'd known all of this now. I'll ring tomorrow, okay?'

He bent down to kiss her on the lips and then left. She waited until she heard the door close before she went downstairs. What she needed was a cup of tea and a good think. It hadn't been the night she'd expected – yet why, because she'd dazzled him and he'd practically confessed his undying love? So why wasn't she jumping for joy?

She sat at her kitchen table and slurped her way through the best brew she'd ever tasted, trying to work it out. A tail brushed against her legs.

‘Coast clear now, is it, Leonardo?' she said, as he jumped up to kiss her nose. She was beginning to think he was trying to tell her something. Frankie replayed Jason's confessional in her mind, looking for clues. He'd loved the old Frankie, he'd said, but she was fast disappearing. And he'd said he'd wanted her to come first. Pah, he'd made little attempt to make her come at all.

It wasn't that sex was the be all and end all – but as Floyd had said it did reflect the state of a relationship. She had never had an orgasm with Jason – what did that say about them as a couple?

As she sat there, topless in a waspie, she realized she was at a crossroads. To be with Jason could be a wonderful thing. But to have a future with him could also mean she might have to go backwards, to the old Frankie.

She wasn't sure if she wanted to, or even could. Yet he had been open about his disastrous experience with that girl – was it possible that he had developed a new level of awareness?

If he had, then she could love him with her everything because they would walk a path of openness as equals.

The remaining question in her mind though was this: would he, could he, be able to love the new her?

Soaking up the happy faces around her, Em conceded she had underestimated everybody.

The gathering of aunts and uncles and friends and cousins had chomped through most of her buffet – thank goodness she had had those oven bake baguettes in the freezer. But more than that, they'd congratulated her on her pregnancy with tactful restraint, knowing that she hated a fuss. It was yet another lesson to her that she had to be more forgiving when she was prone to assume the worst. These people were her allies, and while it would grate to have to accept help when the baby came, she just had to live with it. Hell, she might even enjoy it, she told herself, as she squeezed through a gap in her full-to-bursting flat to get some ice in the kitchen.

The excitement had been unleashed on Floyd instead, who was far more capable of handling the spotlight. As was Sasha, who had a way of reflecting their smiles, making them feel included and appreciated, as she flitted around refilling glasses. Mostly Floyd's, by the looks of him, who was well on his way to being drunk.

It was probably a good idea that he did a speech sooner rather than later; not just because he was on the verge of slurring, but two hours of hosting had seen her reach her limit of sociability. As lovely as they all were, she wanted them to go.

Em went to find Floyd – he wasn't in the lounge, on the balcony, in the hall or loo. Pausing outside his room, she heard his voice and Sasha's. How sweet, she thought, they're having a moment to themselves; true love was all about wanting to be alone with your special someone. But hang on, she'd just seen Sasha in the lounge. Peeking through the gap in the doorframe she saw Floyd with his hands on Letty's shoulders. What were they doing?

There was no time to ask. She banged on the door and demanded he come out at once.

‘Speech time, Floyd. It's about time you added something to this – you haven't brought anything to the party so far, not even a tube of Pringles. I'll wait for you in the lounge.'

Floyd staggered in, his hair a total mess. She widened her eyes at him to tell him to sort himself out but he poked his tongue at her. He waited until he was in the centre of the room and next to Sasha's elegant mother, then, horror of horrors, he bent forward and started twerking the room. Em closed her eyes wishing she could unsee his disgusting rear-end jerking into people's groins.

‘So, as you can see,' Sasha said, leaping into action to draw everyone's attention to her instead, ‘Floyd is using the medium of dance to express his joy at you all being here today!'

Everyone laughed and Em exhaled through her mouth. Thank God for Sasha, what a saviour!

‘Clearly the excitement is all too much for him! Anyway, we'll make this quick, but on behalf of the two of us, I'd just like to thank you all for coming to celebrate our engagement.'

She held up her ring then – a rock the size of a sugar cube – to a whoop.

‘And no one look at Em but we're all wishing you the very best and thanks for the amazing spread!'

Everyone turned to her then and she gave an uncomfortable smile. While she hated being looked at, she was touched by Sasha's thoughtfulness.

‘Right so you'll all be wanting to know about the wedding details…'

A murmur rippled around the room and Em squeezed her shoulders because she had been dying to know where they'd do it. They might relish surprising everyone with a church wedding and a formal sit-down reception, or perhaps they'd please themselves with a quirky ceremony on Penarth Pier, and then cross the prom to the open top roof restaurant for fish and chips and a DJ.

‘Floyd and I, we've decided that we're going to do it barefoot and on the beach!'

Applause broke out and Em nodded her appreciation: it was so very them.

‘On my travels, I went to a gorgeous little place in Thailand which I promised myself I'd return to if I was ever lucky enough to convince Floyd to marry me.'

How romantic! She must be talking about the honeymoon, Em thought.

‘The thing is, we've decided to make it very low key. By ourselves.'

Em felt her jaw drop. How could Floyd have agreed to this? Mum and dad would be absolutely gutted. She stole a glance at their faces and the pair of them had plastic smiles. And even if close family was allowed to go, Em wouldn't be able to seeing as she'd either be massively pregnant or with a young baby. It was just unbelievable. She'd always assumed she would be there with Floyd on his big day – he loved family and he was so gregarious that only a big bash would do.

‘I know it's a shock and I wish we could fit in with everyone's wishes, but we want to do what feels right for us. We'll have a party before we go, we can pretend it's our wedding so don't fret about missing out. Anyway, that's all for now, we'll let you know our plans. Thanks again. Oh and by the way, we're all going to the pub now, to give Em some peace, so please join us there!'

She didn't want to acknowledge it, but Em felt wronged. She'd completely fallen for Sasha all over again and then off she'd gone at a tangent, like a rubber ball. How could she consistently read people so badly? No matter how far Em had come this last few months, it was damned obvious she would never understand the human race.

Busying herself tidying up to hide her disappointment, Em didn't show anyone to the door. Letty and Frankie silently collected the glasses and stacked the dishwasher in record time, then gave her quick pecks on the cheek before they disappeared.

Soon it was just her and Floyd in the flat.

‘Aren't you going to the pub?' she asked him, as he held his head in his hands at the breakfast bar.

‘Nope.'

‘Why not?'

‘I've had enough,' he said, sinking a whisky in one.

‘Are you all right?' she asked, more out of duty than concern. She would raise their inexplicable decision when she'd had a chance to let it sink in. And when he was sober – she was sick to the stomach of people acting oddly, and for now she wanted nothing more than to sit down with her new Lakeland catalogue.

‘No, I'm bloody not,' he said. His eyes were bloodshot and googly from the booze.

Em ignored him and turned to wipe the surfaces of sticky rings and crumbs.

‘I don't know if I love her,' he said.

‘Of course you do,' Em replied, knowing he'd be collapsed on the sofa snoring within five minutes. He had to love her to go along with the plan to tie the knot away from home. It was just pre-wedding nerves.

‘You've always said she's the best thing that's ever happened to you. You're going to be very happy together,' she said, scraping at a stubborn stain, ‘marriage, living together and you'll be an uncle too.'

‘No I'm fucking not. Slasher is like a sixth-form poet or an art student. She's full of total and utter shit.'

‘Are you being serious?' Em said, swinging around, unsure she could take another surprise.

‘Yes. She wants us to get married in Thailand so we can go to this island she likes to set up some kind of hippy backpacker hostel, where we'll play flutes at dawn and do chakra meditation classes. That's why she wants a party before we get married – we're not coming back.'

Em reached out for the counter because it felt like her Birkenstock sandals had become ice skates.

Howling, Floyd broke down with his entire body. His chest heaved, he was gasping for air and grasping his hair tightly like a crazed lunatic.

‘Her version of settling down is running away and I was so looking forward to changing that little nipper's nappies,' he wailed.

She wanted to go to him but she couldn't trust her legs. It was a good job, she realised seconds later, because in a convulsion so severe, Floyd threw up a fountain of vomit so spectacular it went across the breakfast bar and splattered across the tiles.

‘Come with you?' Letty whispered.

‘Why the bloody hell not!' Lance said sitting up in bed, his eyes shining like blue infinity pools, as if it was a eureka moment.

Stunned, Letty realized that all she had to do was dive in and they'd have forever. But what he was suggesting, what he obviously wanted to do, was life-changing.

‘To Australia?' she said, ‘You're going to go?' She needed him to spell it out.

He shrugged. ‘What else can I do? I can't live in a different hemisphere to Eddy. Saying goodnight to him when it's morning there. I'll be a stranger. But it doesn't have to be the end of us.'

Letty's head whirled from two days of worry. Lance was in full ‘get your beach body' mode, rising before she was awake to do early PT sessions and not returning until she was asleep. There hadn't been a moment to raise Helen's visit. It hadn't stopped her wondering though: why he'd kept it from her, how they were supposedly in a serious relationship yet he knew nothing of her money problems. They both had secrets – it wasn't how things should be. Their first chance to discuss it all came just after 10pm when he came in. Incredibly, they'd avoided a row. She'd understood she couldn't criticise him for holding things from her when she had done the same.

They'd both cried though: he hadn't told her about Helen's plans to leave because he was so in shock. He'd felt sick with the guilt of thinking of himself rather than Eddy's dying grandmother. And of thinking Letty wouldn't understand because she wasn't a mum. This had set her off: she felt she was falling short of who he needed. Her anguish that their intimacy had gone. Then her debts came tumbling out and she heaved sobs of grief that she had filled the holes in her life with material goods. In an instant, he'd offered to turn her red statements black: they were in this together.

Their make-up sex had been slow and adoring – they promised over and over never to let go of each other. But now Letty could see it wasn't that simple.

‘Come with me,' he repeated, taking her hands into his. ‘As my partner, you'd be eligible to apply for a visa if I acted as your sponsor. Or we could get married. Whatever you want, however you want to play it,' he said, desperately.