‘Like what, Frank? Like helping him move, and trying to be supportive when he needs us—’
‘Didn’t we say this was our time now, when we were in Paris?’
‘Yes, but quite a lot’s happened since then—’
‘Tell me about it!’
‘What’re you angry about now?’ I exclaim. ‘Eddie coming back home? He had anaccident—’
‘Yeah, trying to put up the blind! Did you honestly think he’d be capable?’
‘What? You mean you’re actually blaming me for this? Like not giving him the proper facts-of-life talk, remember you blamed me for that too—’
‘I did not!’
‘Frank, I had to beg you to tell him anything,’ I protest. ‘Like how to wash his willy properly. How to take proper care of it—’
‘I told you at the time it’s pretty basic,’ he snaps. ‘It’s not a pet. It doesn’t need training or taking out for walks—’
‘Okay, fine! But he still needed to know stuff and that wasyourjob. To explain it all to him. Because, in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have a penis—’ I break off abruptly as Thelma Campbell from the National History Society approaches with her bichon frise. A stately six-footer with tightly-set pewter curls, Thelma arranges her expression into a pert smile.
‘Morning, Carly.’
‘Morning, Thelma.’
Dammit, now she too is stopping to chat. This is small-town life. Everyone knows – and observes – everything. ‘Has that book I ordered come in yet?’ she asks. ‘The one about migratory birds, with the QR codes so we can listen—’
‘Er, I think so, I’ll check—’
‘It has the sound of every native bird of Britain,’ she announces to Frank, who manages to form an expression of wonder.
‘Wow,’ he murmurs.
She nods proudly, as if she had compiled all the bird sounds herself. Then she’s off and, without saying goodbye to Frank, I turn away from the seafront and storm off to work.
Chapter Thirty-five
I’m not the only one having a bad day. Prish’s date in Glasgow last night – with a man she’s been talking to for several weeks – was a let-down. ‘He suggested we book into this budget hotel by Central Station,’ she tells us.
‘The kind of place where an eighteen-year-old loses his virginity to an escort?’ Jamie splutters.
‘Oh, God. Stop it,’ she exclaims, laughing now.
Then later, Jamie announces: ‘Well, the outlaws are coming up again. Interested in buying a cottage on Arran!’
‘Why are they doing that?’ I ask. I know they live down in Wiltshire. So it’s not exactly handy for them.
‘You know when people have too much money, and don’t know what to do with it?’ he says. ‘They love their visits up here, and want a place close to their precious boy.’
‘So it’ll still be the spare-room situation, whenever they come up to house-hunt?’ I ask.
‘Yep. But I thought next time, I could move out whilethey’re staying. Maybe pop round occasionally, pretend to be the Deliveroo guy.’
‘Oh, Jamie. This is unbearable, isn’t it?’
He exhales. ‘What d’you do when the person you love turns outnotto be who you thought they were?’
Briefly, I think of how Frank was this morning. ‘I wish I had the answer to that.’ Then, as the last lenders leave, I check the wall clock. The thought of going home causes a sinking feeling in my stomach and, clearly Jamie’s feeling the same. ‘Don’t suppose you fancy a quick drink?’ I suggest.
