Page 67 of Just for the Season

The second thing I notice, because lately my eyes are always drawn in her direction, is that Frankie looks absolutely stunning in a long red dress that fits her very well. I begin to walk towards her, because I can’t not.

She’s walking towards me too, and, God, I love the way she walks in her dress. As she moves I can see that she’s wearing much higher heels than she usually wears. She always looks good, and this evening is definitely no exception.

I bump into someone – I’m struggling to pay attention to my surroundings – and murmur a sorry, before continuing towards Frankie, and then realise that the person I bumped into has grasped my sleeve.

I turn to look who it is – it’s hard to imagine why anyone other than one of my children would grab hold of me like that – and discover that it is my grandfather.

‘Roderick,’ I say. He’s never liked us to call him anything like Grandpa or Grandad. Ruby and Sam call him Roderick too. ‘I didn’t know… I’m surprised…’ He doesn’t know Rose, surely. Well, to be more accurate, he doesn’t know Rose any more. Legend has it that, over sixty years ago, they were engaged until she did the stuff of Mills & Boon novels and jilted him at the altar. And since then, even though they’ve lived under twenty miles from each other the whole time, and both married other people – very happily – and had children and grandchildren, they’ve never resolved their differences.

‘Marcus. How are you? Haven’t seen much of you the last few weeks.’

‘You’ve been busy,’ I tell him. That is true. He has; every time I’ve called to see if he’d like a visit he’s been out. But, also, I’ve been a lot busier than usual too, being a fake boyfriend. Oh, God. He’s going to meet Frankie and we’re going to have to tell him that we’re a couple.

Oddly, I don’t much mind that thought, although I really should.

‘I hear you have too. With romance.’ He raises his eyebrows in Frankie’s direction, and if I’m not mistaken, goes for a bit of eyebrow waggling. ‘Could this be the young lady in question?’

I’m surprised; I didn’t think he’d be up to speed with Milbury gossip.

‘Yes,’ I say, and reach my hand out in Frankie’s direction. After a moment’s hesitation she takes it. I can’t believe that after all our chat about preparation we forgot to plan the specifics of this evening, as in how we’re going to act around each other, in particular in regard to PDA. I also can’t believe how right her hand feels in mine.

‘Roderick,’ I say, ‘this is Frankie. Frankie, this is my grandfather, Roderick.’

‘It’s lovely to meet you,’ Frankie says.

‘I’m very pleased to meet you too. We must sit down and get to know each other much better later on.’

‘I’d love that.’ Frankie doesn’t bat an eyelid; she’s a great actress. Clearly she doesn’t actually want to get to know him, because that’s just going to make things even more awkward when we… in her words… fizzle out.

‘I need to go and speak to Rose now, but I’ll see the two of you again this evening.’ And off he heads, straight for Frankie’s grandmother, who’s sitting in state on a raised area at the end of the hall, on one of two red-velvet-covered, high-backed chairs.

‘He’s amazingly fit for his age,’ Frankie says. ‘Wonderful. Something to aspire to.’

I open my mouth to agree, but no words come out because at that moment Roderick reaches Rose, kisses her on the lips and takes the chair next to hers.

‘Erm.’ Frankie is blinking and shaking her head. ‘What?’

I don’t have any words at all right now, so I can’t answer.

‘Maybe,’ Frankie says, in a grasping-at-straws manner, ‘that’s just a thing amongst their generation. When they’re greeting very old friends.’

‘Kissing them on the lips?’ I query.

‘Yep.’

‘Not something I’ve ever witnessed before between two people who haven’t spoken for over sixty years.’

‘No.’ Frankie nods slowly. ‘You do have a point there.’

I look down at her slightly pursed lips and wish that I could kiss her. I mean, it’s kind of ridiculous. We’ve been living this fake relationship in all ways except physical for the past few weeks, and we obviously are not kissing, while my grandfather and her grandmother are.

I draw Frankie away, into the corner where she and Ellie had the stepladder earlier, and say, ‘That was very, very odd, but I think the biggest thing we need to discuss is how we…’ I’m not really sure how to put it ‘…interact this evening. With each other, I mean. We probably need to… hold hands a little. For example.’

‘Oh, yes! You’re right!’ Frankie’s very squeaky and exclamatory all of a sudden. ‘Yes, we should hold hands. The appropriate amount. When people are watching.’

‘Like this.’ I take both her hands in mine and smile down at her. God, she’s beautiful. Especially when she wrinkles her nose and bites her bottom lip like that. Actually, she’s beautiful whatever she does. When I met her I thought she was attractive. Now I know her properly, well, if I were younger I’d call her insanely hot.

‘Very good.’ Her voice has switched from squeaky to husky. ‘You’re an excellent actor.’