Page 25 of Just for the Season

‘Yes, okay,’ Frankie says. ‘Obviously that did sound critical. But in your position I’d really have thought of an excuse. Are you bad at excuses? Would you like me to think of some for you?’

‘That’s very kind but I’m sure Google can see me right should I be in need of any excuse inspiration.’

‘Soooo, at the risk of sounding extremely obsessive about this, on top of having landed you in this situation in the first place, why did you agree to come for afternoon tea? Was Google having an off-day inspiration-wise?’

‘I’m just a very, very kind person and I knew you wanted to see me and couldn’t resist gratifying your wish.’

Frankie raises her eyebrows.

‘Yep, Ruby made me,’ I say.

‘Oh, I see. Except, no, I don’t. Why did she?’

‘She and Libby discussed what happened last night and had every sympathy for your predicament in not wishing to upset your grandmother and so they think that we should continue with our… farce.’

Frankie winces. ‘Ouch. Well. Okay. That’s very… I’m going to go for sweet. I mean, it’s obviously deeply humiliating for me that fourteen-year-olds are talking about me, but not surprising.’

‘Really not surprising,’ I agree. ‘Anyone would talk about a fake relationship announcement, and Ruby was always going to tell Libby. She said she did swear her to secrecy.’

‘Yeah. Well. It’s good – very good – that Ruby isn’t upset with you.’

‘It certainly is,’ I say. Then, feeling guilty, because clearly Frankie doesn’t feel good about any of this, and clearly I haven’t been helping, I say, ‘It’s going to be fine. Obviously most people don’t know it’s a fake relationship, and obviously if they think it’s real then it will become old news very soon, because who cares if two random people start dating.’

‘Are you joking?’ She stares at me. ‘Have you met this village? I mean, everyone knows Gran and Ellie, and everyone knows who I am, even if I don’t know them. And you’re, you know—’ she waves her hand ‘—kind of the epitome of eligible bachelor. So it will be news.’

‘Yeah, no, that is true,’ I concede. ‘I mean, not the eligible bachelor bit—’ although even that’s kind of true to the extent that any single man in his thirties in this village is going to get quite a lot of interest, purely by being single ‘—but yes, it’s a gossipy place. In the nicest possible way. Genuinely, I do love it here, and a lot of the gossip stems from true interest and concern for fellow inhabitants. However, I’m sure that we’ll be a one-hit wonder. Everyone will forget about us soon. Some sheep will escape and trample someone’s flowerbeds or eat someone’s potential prize-winning pumpkins, or someone will get wind of proposed roadworks within fifty miles, and we’ll be old news.’

‘Very true.’ Frankie shares her perfect smile with me, and I can’t help smiling back. Then the smile drops and she says, ‘Gran, though.’

‘Yes,’ I agree. ‘You will have to phase “us” out.’

‘Yep.’ She heaves a big sigh. ‘Maybe when my hangover’s disappeared inspiration will strike on how I do that. And in the meantime, yay, we’re having afternoon tea all together. Shit.’ She heads over to the window side of the kitchen. ‘I was supposed to be putting the kettle on.’

‘Not to worry,’ I say. ‘Rose will probably just think we’re snatching an intimate moment.’

Frankie winces. ‘Thanks.’

I laugh. ‘Here to please.’

‘Thanks again. Okay. Let’s go and ask everyone what they’d like to drink.’

I follow her into her grandmother’s sitting room, which is next to the kitchen and has the same orientation with more glorious views over the bay.

‘The kettle’s on,’ Frankie says. ‘What does everyone want?’

Rose holds her hands out in our direction and says, ‘Come and sit down next to me and chat. I’d like to get to know you better, Marcus. Ellie, Jack, Ruby and Sam have volunteered to make all the drinks. Just let them know what the two of you want: I have all sorts of tea available.’

Frankie and I both opt for regular English breakfast, and the others leave.

And, true to her word, Rose immediately says, ‘So how did you two meet? Tell me everything.’

9

FRANKIE

I see Marcus doing a great big swallow, his Adam’s apple moving up and down (actually quite sexily if I’m honest), and leap in, in case he says something stupid. I totally, totally get that he almost certainly wants to bail right now, but he can’t.

‘We met… in the cutest way.’ I’m buying time to think of how we might have got together; I am unfortunately having a bit of a mind blank. My extremely tight head and still mildly churning stomach following last night are really not helping me think clearly. Also, I’m very tired. On top of the drinking, my sleep was punctuated by easy-to-interpret dreams relating to Rick, redundancy and Marcus, and I can barely perform basic functions like counting to ten, let alone come up with plausible lies about when I fake-met my fake boyfriend.