Page 59
‘Nope. I’m sweet enough,’ she said, repeating her well-used phrase.
‘Yes, you are,’ Jay said and Frankie could feel herself redden slightly. She turned away to place her mug on the side table when she noticed a pile of large books she recognised.
‘Oh my goodness! Are these your mum’s photo albums?’
‘Yeah. I stumbled across them in the spare room when I was checking out all the music equipment.’
‘Your mum kept the spare room as a studio?’
‘Yeah, it’s very basic but everything still works.’
‘Can we look at some old photos?’ Frankie said.
‘Sure!’ Jay put his mug down on the table next to Frankie’s and picked up the albums before flopping down beside her on the sofa in a move that reminded Frankie so much of when they’d been teenagers.
‘I hope you’re ready for this, there are a lot of embarrassing things in here.’
‘Bring it on.’
Jay opened the first book and rested it across his and Frankie’s thighs.
Frankie gave a little squeal as she pointed at the first photo. Rocco was seven, Jay was six and Frankie was five and they were all dressed up for Hallowe’en as a vampire, werewolf, and witch respectively. They were all making a “scary” face for the camera but had ended up looking adorably cute instead.
Then it was page after page of photos of the three of them with various other friends.
‘Mum used to call us The Three Musketeers.’
‘Nonna called us trouble!’ Frankie laughed.
They looked through a couple of the albums, laughing and reminiscing. As well as photographs, Mrs Costello had kept every report card and “pupil of the week” certificate her son had ever received.
‘What’s in those?’ Frankie asked, pointing over to the other side of Jay at the books lying on the sofa.
‘One of them is all old family members. I don’t even know who half of them are. Some nice ones of Dad.’
Frankie didn’t know what to say. Jay had never talked about his dad much. He didn’t remember him because he’d died when Jay was so young. Frankie was about to offer some comforting words when Jay said, ‘The other album is from eighteen onwards. The university years and band stuff.’
‘Let’s see.’
‘It’s a bit embarrassing. All the very first band flyers. Even before we called ourselves Drive With Care.’
‘Why did you call yourselves that? I remember you telling me how none of you could agree on a name.’
Jay gave a little chuckle. ‘We were driving on the road, heading toward a meeting with exec guys, still arguing over what to call ourselves. We’d been stuck in the van together for hours; this really old, rusty van we practically lived out of. Arlo was driving and said that the next semi-decent name one of us came up with was what we were going with. We travelled miles in silence. It was a horrendous night with the weather; torrential rain. Anyway, Cole had this habit of… well, he still has the habit of reading road signs aloud when we’re driving. And then Cole said, “drive with care”, which was the electronic message on the overhead noticeboard on the motorway. None of us could think of anything better so that became our name.’
Jay turned the page over, the movement causing his thigh to brush against hers and Frankie was suddenly conscious of the heat of his body.
Jay had been right, Mrs Costello had cut out every newspaper article and photo that had ever been printed it seemed. Interspersed were photos of Jay and his mother.
‘Is that your mum’s house in France?’
‘Yeah, taken the day I gave her the keys.’
It looked beautiful. Frankie had imagined it to be some sort of grand château, but instead it was a charming farmhouse, the outside walls of which had been painted a light pink, with pale-green shutters over the windows. There was a cobblestoned front yard with lavender and rose bushes sprouting up against the farmhouse walls. More photos showed a terraced area, with spectacular views of the French countryside and tall poplar trees dotting along the periphery of the property.
‘No wonder your mum spends so much time there, it’s stunning.’
‘It is.’ There was a wistful edge to his voice.
