Whatever Love Is (14 page)

‘Just showing you how much I fancy you,’ he said calmly.

‘Well, tough, because I don’t fancy you!’ she snapped back as a flash of lightning followed almost at once by a crack of thunder made her flinch.

‘Oh come on,’ he pleaded. ‘I know you enjoyed kissing me.’

‘You arrogant —’

‘Is there someone else?’

The question took her aback. What could she say? The truth would mean he would ask who it was, and a lie would give him false hope.

‘I thought not,’ he said with a grin. ‘So I’ll just have to be patient and prove that I mean what I say, won’t I?’ He kissed her cheek briefly.
‘I’d better go and check on Alice’s horse,’ he said. ‘He hates storms and by the look of Alice half an hour ago, she’ll be in no fit state to do it herself.
We’ll talk more tomorrow.’

‘We so won’t,’ she said.

But he had gone.

CHAPTER 9

‘You will do as I say!’

(Jane Austen,
Mansfield Park
)

F
RANKIE SCOWLED AS SHE KICKED OFF HER MUD-COVERED
boots, furious with herself not just for letting him kiss her, but for enjoying it as much as she had,
if only for a second. But now, slinging her waterproof on the nearest hook and going through to the kitchen, she found herself imagining how Ned would hold her, how he would taste, how she would
respond.

She was searching in the fridge for a smoothie when she heard raised voices coming from the sitting room.

‘I am not remotely interested. I’ve got more important things on my mind!’

It was her uncle – but he wasn’t due back for another week! Frankie pushed the kitchen door open and ventured into the hall in her bare feet.

‘But, Thomas, what will people think?’ Tina was sounding agitated in the extreme.

‘Frankly, anyone with half a brain will have more important things to worry about than the antics of a few empty-headed kids!’ he shouted.

‘But you didn’t see what they did.’

In the background, Frankie could hear the signature tune for the late-night news. She edged nearer to the sitting-room door, which was open a chink.

‘It wasn’t Mia’s fault, of course,’ she heard Nerys say. ‘It’ll have been that Jon.’

‘For the last time, woman, will you be quiet!’ Thomas snapped. ‘I’ve had a hell of a couple of weeks dealing with things that actually matter and I come home wanting a
bit of peace and quiet and all you can do is witter on about some trifling band.’

‘You won’t like it when the neighbours talk about your daughter stripping off on TV!’ Tina burst out angrily. ‘Don’t you get it? Topless on TV – our
daughter!

‘Stupid, I agree, but —’

‘And what’s more, the wretched voiceover man said, “Among those letting their hair and other things down at M-Brace was Mia Bertram, daughter of Thomas Bertram, the clothing
magnate”.’

Frankie gasped. She reckoned Thomas would be mad beyond belief.

‘Are you telling me . . .?’

Another violent clap of thunder drowned out his response and a second later, Frankie’s attention was diverted by the crashing of the back door followed by squeals of laughter.

‘So cook me up a storm, babes!’ she heard Jon say, his speech slightly slurred. ‘And I’m not talking pots and pans!’

She dashed back into the kitchen, wrenching open the door to the laundry room. ‘Be quiet!’

‘Oooh look, it’s goody-goody Frankie!’ Jemma sneered. ‘Are we making a noise because we’re having fun? Keeping you from your beauty sleep? Not that it appears to be
working!’ She giggled and then hiccupped.

‘I’m trying to help,’ Frankie snapped. ‘Your dad’s home.’

‘What? Now? Already?’

‘Yes, and your mum’s in a strop about the dance routine. It was on TV.’

‘It was? Well, it’s nothing to do with me. But Dad’ll be furious.’

‘Well, actually —’

‘On TV!’ Jon butted in. ‘That’s amazing! Hey, have you got a laptop? We can check it out.’

The back door flew open again and the others, soaked to the skin and clearly, with the exception of Nick, the worse for drink, crashed into the kitchen. Ned was propping Alice up and looked as
if he could do with help remaining vertical himself and Mia was being supported by Nick, who, judging by his tight-lipped expression, was using all his energy to keep calm. Lulu was gazing
adoringly at James, who was singing some raunchy song at the top of his voice while brandishing a can of Red Bull in the air.

And that was the moment when Thomas Bertram flung open the kitchen door and Mia vomited into the sink.

Sleep was an impossibility. Frankie tossed and turned, pummelling her pillow, kicking off her duvet, switching her light on and then off, and still her mind wouldn’t calm
down. Two images kept playing through her imagination like a video on repeat – Henry kissing Mia and Henry kissing her. The first made her angry on Nick’s behalf; the second brought up
feelings and emotions of which she was both ashamed and embarrassed. Henry wasn’t to be trusted – that much was certain. So why did her body respond in this totally extraordinary and
unknown way? Why did she want to cry every time she thought of Ned making Alice feel the way Henry, for just a few seconds, had made her feel?

‘Get a grip,’ she muttered to herself, hurling one of her pillows onto the floor and turning over for the tenth time. ‘Think about something else.’

But no matter how hard she tried, memories of the previous few hours refused to go away.

When her uncle had burst into the kitchen, his clothes dishevelled and travel-creased, everyone had looked horrified. He had taken in the scene, his lip curling in disgust.

‘You look like a slut,’ he’d snapped at Mia. ‘Those are Sylvie Costi shorts – I’d recognise her trash anywhere.’

‘That was my fault,’ Alice had said. ‘I suggested the costumes.’

‘And who the hell are you?’ Thomas had interrupted as Alice swayed gently against the larder door.

‘This is Alice Crawford, Dad,’ Ned had said proudly. ‘And this . . .’

He turned as the back door opened and Henry, shaking droplets of water from his jacket, walked in. ‘Alice, your horse is going berserk, you had better sort him – Oh!’ He had
stopped, catching sight of Thomas and summing up the situation in an instant. ‘You must be Thomas Bertram,’ he had said quickly, holding out his hand. ‘Henry Crawford –
Charles Grant’s son. Alice and I are down for the summer. Congratulations, sir, on your award. Dad was telling me about it, and what a great friend you are to him.’

Frankie had to admit that Henry could turn on the charm as easily as turning on a tap.

‘Well, yes, we go back a long way, the two of us,’ Thomas replied in a slightly calmer tone.

Henry raised an eyebrow at Alice and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

‘It was so good of you to let me keep my horse here,’ she’d said, right on cue. ‘And talking of Fling, I must go and make sure he’s not kicking your stable door to
bits. Henry, will you come with me? You know how I hate storms.’

With that they had both turned to leave, but not before Alice had surreptitiously puckered her lips and blown a kiss in Ned’s direction and Henry had brushed unnecessarily close to
Frankie, touching her wrist with his fingertips.

‘I’ll be off too,’ Lulu had muttered.

‘I’ll walk you home,’ James had offered eagerly, taking her hand.

‘You will do no such thing,’ his father shouted. ‘I need to talk to you – now! In my study.’

‘No, Dad,’ James said firmly. ‘The days of you telling me what to do are over!’

For a moment the two of them stared at one another and Frankie had noticed that Thomas’s hands were shaking.

‘How dare you . . .’ he began, but James and Lulu had gone, James slamming the door behind them.

‘I despair of the lot of you.’ Thomas opened the fridge door and poured himself a glass of white wine, threw it back in two gulps and refilled it.

‘Hey, Dad, don’t declude . . .
in
clude . . . me in shat . . . that. I didn’t do anything,’ Jemma protested. ‘I opted out of it all way back.’

‘A pity you didn’t opt out of getting paralytic,’ her father said. ‘Bed. Now.’ He paused. ‘And you?’ He looked directly at Jon who was edging closer to
the door. ‘I don’t know you, do I?’

Jon held out his hand. ‘Jon Yates,’ he said. ‘I’m a friend of James.’

‘I’m surprised he’s got any left,’ Thomas muttered. ‘So why are you here?’

‘I graduated a year ago, and I’m here because he’s my best mate and we go back a long way – prep school in fact. You presented me with the athletics cup,
remember?’

‘No,’ Thomas grunted. ‘Well, I guess you’d better get home too.’

‘Well, actually, James said I could stay over – if that’s all right with you, of course.’

It occurred to Frankie that right now Jon had better manners than her uncle.

Thomas had waved him away and Jon had tactfully left the room as Mia, groaning, dashed to the sink and threw up again.

‘I’ll take Mia to bed,’ Nick said helpfully. ‘Well, I mean – no, I didn’t mean I’ll take her to bed as in . . . I meant, I’ll help her upstairs
and . . .’

‘Go home, Nick,’ Thomas had said wearily. ‘Mia can sort herself out.’

‘Home. Yes. Good idea. Right on. On my way.’ He ruffled Mia’s hair. ‘Sleep it off, Mimi-pops.
Hasta la vista
, as they say in Spain.’

As Nick made for the door, knocking over a chair on his way, and Mia staggered up to bed, Thomas suddenly slumped down into a chair and rested his head in his hands.

‘Dad?’ Ned said anxiously. ‘Are you OK?’

Thomas stared at him. ‘Not really,’ he said, all the energy gone from his voice. ‘You think you know someone . . .’

‘Mia didn’t mean any harm . . .’

‘Oh, I’m not talking about Mia. I’m talking about . . . life, I guess. What do we really know about people? What do we really know about goes on when our back is turned?’
He drained his glass and refilled it yet again.

‘Has something happened, Dad?’ Ned asked, glancing anxiously at the rapidly emptying bottle.

‘You mean aside from you letting your sister make a fool of herself?’

‘It wasn’t his fault,’ Frankie burst out. ‘He didn’t know what the girls were planning and anyway, he was just helping out playing the guitar.’

Thomas turned and looked at her in surprise. It was as though he hadn’t realised she was there at all. ‘You didn’t get involved though, did you?’ he asked.

‘No, but . . .’

‘You didn’t dress like a slut or behave like some stupid floozy, did you?’

Frankie said nothing.

‘And you respect me, don’t you? Well, don’t you?’ There was a pleading note in his voice.

‘Of course I do,’ she said.

Thomas nodded. ‘For all your unfortunate start in life, and the sad example of your own parents, you’ve got more respect for me than certain members of my own family.’ He had
sighed wearily and took her hand. ‘You’re very precious to me, Francesca. Very precious indeed.’

Frankie didn’t know what to say, but of one thing she was certain. Something had happened that Thomas wasn’t admitting to. Just as James had come back from Mexico somehow different
to when he went, so Thomas seemed anxious, edgy and world weary – things she would never have associated with him in the past. He hadn’t even seemed that bothered by Mia’s
behaviour, which would normally have caused him to hit the roof. She realised that whatever was on his mind, it had to be something pretty big.

‘Shall I make some tea?’ she offered.

‘No, you go to bed, Frankie. And you, Ned. I need to be alone.’

To Frankie’s surprise, when she went into the kitchen the following morning, she found Mia sitting at the breakfast table, pale-faced and with black lines under her
eyes.

‘I thought you’d still be in bed,’ she remarked, opening a cupboard and taking out a packet of muesli. ‘Want some?’

Mia groaned. ‘I shall never eat or drink again. The whole evening was one huge disaster.’ She eyed Frankie nervously. ‘About last night. You haven’t said anything to . .
.’

‘To Nick, the guy who adores you? No, I haven’t,’ she said. ‘But if you’ve changed your mind about things, if you don’t want him any more, you owe it to him
to come clean.’

‘I haven’t! At least I don’t think I have. I was drunk, and Henry came on to me. End of.’