Whatever Love Is (18 page)

Frankie’s misery over Ned’s total lack of jealousy had disappeared the moment she saw William stepping from the train. As he had scooped her off her feet in a great bear hug, she
couldn’t help bursting into tears. ‘I’ve missed you so much,’ she had sobbed, laughing and crying at the same time. ‘I’ve got so much to tell you.’

‘Me too,’ William had agreed. ‘When we’re alone.’

He had nodded discreetly towards Ned, who was standing back, watching their reunion with a thoughtful expression on his face.

Once William was settled in the front passenger seat and had told Frankie how impressed he was with her driving skills, he had turned to speak to Ned, who was sitting in the back of the car.

‘I read about your father in the newspaper on the way up,’ he said. ‘Bit of a rough time for you all, I guess.’

Frankie had winced inwardly. William had always been direct in what he said but she thought he might have been discreet enough not to mention such a sensitive issue.

‘I probably sound rude raising the subject,’ William had gone on, ‘but I thought it best to talk to you and get the lie of the land. If my uncle would rather I didn’t
hang around, in view of everything, I can easily make other arrangements.’

Frankie knew this would be far from easy and gave him an anxious glance.

‘No way!’ Ned had said at once and proceeded to fill him in on the party plans, the work of KOT and how brilliant he thought Frankie was to choose a charity do instead of a posh
dance. When he had asked Will to take some photographs for the charity’s publicity, Will began telling funny stories about photographic catastrophes onboard ship and once again, Frankie
wondered how come he could be so at ease so soon.

And that’s how he was all evening. He had everyone in fits of laughter, regaling them with stories of rich American ladies looking for onboard romance, and guests who complained that no
one had told them there would be insects in the Amazon rainforest. Frankie was never sure how much was true and how much was embellished because her brother kept a perfectly straight face
throughout. Nerys, who had greeted him very grumpily, mellowed noticeably when he admired her dogs and pleaded with her to allow him to photograph them, and Ned behaved as if they’d been
mates for life, pleased at William’s eagerness to learn more about KOT and to help with the party. Frankie even heard Alice, who turned up within minutes of William’s arrival, murmur to
Ned that she was amazed that William and Frankie were related.

As soon as she could grab a moment alone with him, Frankie asked the question that had been at the back of her mind for days. ‘Will you come with me to see Mum? The doctor told me last
time I went down that she’s going to be moved to a halfway house in a few weeks.’

William nodded. ‘They sent me an email. I was going to suggest we went and sussed out the situation.’

‘I’m worried,’ Frankie said.

‘I know.’ Will squeezed her hand. ‘I feel bad that you’ve borne the brunt of it all and I’ve only seen her every six months or so. It’s . . . it’s easy
for me, sending cards and letters, but I guess seeing her in that place . . .’

Frankie nodded. ‘I’ve wanted her to get better for so long, and now they say she is, I’m scared. Scared she’ll have another setback and we’ll be back to square one.
I know it’s an awful thing to say but sometimes I used to put off going down to Hove because it felt as if I didn’t know her any more.’

‘We’ll go next week and see for ourselves exactly what’s happening. Then I’ll have to start some serious job hunting.’ William sighed. ‘But don’t
let’s think about that now. Let’s just enjoy ourselves!’

‘And you don’t mind mucking in and helping to organise the party?’ Frankie ventured. ‘I mean, it’s probably more of the same for you, what with all the stuff you
have to get involved in on the ship.’

‘It’ll be great,’ William replied. ‘Kids I can cope with – just keep me away from sixty-year-old women who want a dance partner!’

The atmosphere of jolly family reunions was dampened the next morning. The tabloids had picked up the story of Mexican workers with one of them running the headline,
OUTSTANDING ACHIEVEMENT
– AT WHAT COST?
Thomas, looking as if he hadn’t slept a wink, appeared on breakfast television, promising that he would be switching his manufacture of Zeppelin jeans and Cheeky
Cheetah dresses from Mexico and denying any knowledge of what he called ‘those unfortunate workplace practices’. Yet again, Frankie found herself wondering how that could be, and
ashamed as she was, she began to think that he must have just chosen to turn a blind eye. Facebook and Twitter both had damning postings from a variety of sources and someone had set up a campaign
called
Boycott Bertie
to which hundreds had already signed up.

Thomas had telephoned early that morning, warning the family not to be seen wearing any of his Cheeky Cheetah or Zeppelin clothes.

‘No chance of that,’ William had joked to Ned. ‘Way out of my price range!’

By Monday, the PR people at Thomas’s headquarters had rolled into action. A couple of broadsheets ran a story, albeit on the inside pages, of Thomas’s outrage at those within his
company who had failed to alert him to the problems in Mexico.

‘HEADS WILL ROLL,’ SAYS FASHION CHIEF,
ran one headline. (Sadly, another reminded its readers that a few years earlier, the factory in Peshawar that manufactured Bertie
beachwear had been closed as a result of a major campaign by locals and aid workers.) Somehow two of the tabloids had been persuaded to report that Thomas Bertram was holding a large party for
deprived children at his Northamptonshire home, ‘
Something,’ said a source close to the family, ‘that he had planned months ago and which was just one of the many unheralded
charitable activities of this modest and unassuming man.
’

By Wednesday, thanks to riots on the streets of several cities and a worldwide crash in share prices, the papers had lost interest and Thomas was home and in a more relaxed frame of mind –
but then another worry had reared its head.

James hadn’t returned and wasn’t answering his phone. No one, including Jon Yates, knew where he was. It occurred to Frankie that maybe he was lying low because of his part in what
had happened.

‘We should ring the police,’ Tina wailed. ‘If he’s in London, he might have got caught up in those dreadful riots and be injured or something.’

‘For God’s sake, woman, get a grip!’ Thomas shouted. ‘Do you really think we need more publicity at a time like this? For once, James is doing what I asked –
keeping out of our hair. Hopefully he’s sorting out his life. Strikes me it’s about bloody time.’

‘But not to know where he is . . .’

‘He is twenty-two – old enough to look after himself. He’s probably partying somewhere or conning some other poor sods.’

‘How dare you speak about your own son like that!’ Tina shouted, to the amazement of everyone. ‘I’ve rung everyone I can think of, and no one has seen him. Frankly, I
don’t care what you say! If he hasn’t been in touch by tomorrow, I’m ringing the police whether you like it or not.’

Frankie got out her phone.

Hi James! I’m having a party on Saturday – please please come. I know things are tough and I do understand where you were coming from but it won’t be the same for any of us
if you are not here. Let me know asap so I can prepare a goody bag for you!!! Love Frankie

She pressed
send
and prayed that the text would get some sort of response. Sure enough, within seconds, it did.

Thanks but no thanks. I’m working on getting my head sorted. You can tell Mum I’m OK – and I’m sure Dad doesn’t care either way. Have a great time. J

It wasn’t what her uncle or Tina would want to hear but at least he was alive. She ran down to the sitting room and passed the message on to Thomas.

‘Get his head sorted? That’ll be the day!’ her uncle grunted, but she saw the look of sheer relief on his face and knew she had done the right thing.

‘I reckon Alice fancies you,’ Frankie told William on Thursday afternoon, while she was helping him erect a gazebo in readiness for the party. ‘Maybe you
should make a play for her!’

She tried to sound light-hearted but she knew her own motives. After all, Alice had said on more than one occasion that Will was fit; and if the two of them got it together, she’d be on
hand to comfort Ned and maybe, just maybe . . .

‘She’s not my type.’ William sounded almost snappy. ‘I mean, I don’t do those spoilt, up themselves girls – I’ve seen enough of them onboard
ship.’

Frankie was surprised at the vehemence in his voice. Will wasn’t usually the judgmental type. He grinned at her. ‘However, it seems her brother is definitely
your
type!’

Before she could protest at this, he went on. ‘I’d like to meet this Henry – how come he hasn’t been around?’

‘He’s doing a placement at the theatre in Northampton,’ Frankie told him, ‘but he’ll be here at the party. He’s been really good about getting
costumes.’

‘See? You do like him,’ William teased.

‘Will you get it into your head that just because a girl says a boy has done one nice thing doesn’t mean she’s about to throw herself into his arms!’ Frankie retorted.
‘Now grab this guy rope and pull!’

‘This was your best idea ever and I love you for it!’

Ned came up behind Frankie as she served popcorn to some small and rather sticky children, wrapped his arms round her and squeezed her tight.

Frankie smiled and tipped her face towards his, before realising what she was doing. Embarrassed, she turned and spooned more popcorn into the cone and handed it to a little boy who grinned as
though Christmas had come early.

‘Just look at the kids,’ Ned said, gesturing to the bouncy castle, the giant snakes-and-ladders and the fire engine, manned by the local brigade, over which swarms of children were
climbing and shouting ‘Fire!’ ‘They’re having a ball. And you have to admit Henry and your brother are doing a great job too.’

Frankie laughed. ‘William was always pretty good at playing the fool,’ she said, as her brother, surrounded by children, stomped around in his clown costume, tripping on his outsize
feet and making his red nose spin round and round. ‘But I didn’t think Henry would be quite so good with kids somehow. I thought he’d be more like Alice, way out of his
depth.’

‘Oh come on, be fair,’ Ned cut in swiftly. ‘So Alice didn’t want to dress up as Upsy Daisy – big deal. She’s doing a great job with the pony rides and
she’s going to help serve the teas later. I think she’s being great.’

With that, he marched off, obviously in search of this wonder woman.

To Frankie’s surprise, every one of her mates had accepted the invitation (at least those that weren’t away on holiday) – even people from school whom she had imagined would
look down their noses at a kids’ party. They had entered whole heartedly into the spirit of the afternoon, jumping with the kids on the bouncy castle and shouting in all the right places at
the Punch and Judy show and the antics of the magician. Thomas had made a great show of welcoming the visiting children and got the local paper and
TV East
to photograph him handing out
gifts and sweets, every inch the jovial benefactor. As soon as the press had left, he went inside and poured himself a stiff Scotch. Tina had surprised everyone by organising a princess pamper tent
for the girls and was busy teasing hair and varnishing nails. And Nerys was in her element, bossing the caterers about, telling the charity workers and carers exactly how they should be doing their
job and generally getting in the way wherever she went.

‘This is so cool!’ Poppy said as Ned ushered the children into the marquee for tea. ‘Like fun without having to get hammered!’

‘And a good way of forgetting that A-level results come out in two days,’ Lulu groaned. ‘I am so going to fail the lot.’

Her downcast expression didn’t last for more than a second. ‘Your brother is totally fit,’ she went on. ‘Totally!’

‘Lulu, he’s dressed as a clown – you can’t tell whether he’s fit or not.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ Lulu argued, dodging a small boy wielding a large stick of candyfloss. ‘I saw him earlier getting ready and he has gorgeous eyes and
the cutest butt. Has he got a girlfriend?’

‘Lulu, you’re outrageous!’ Frankie said, not for the first time. ‘I thought it was James you were after.’

‘James isn’t here, William is,’ Lulu reasoned. ‘So? Has he?’

‘If he has, he hasn’t mentioned her,’ Frankie said. ‘But he’s only here for another week or so.’

‘No time to waste then,’ Lulu said cheerfully. ‘How do I look?’

‘Aside from the butterfly face-paint, you mean?’

‘Ah, I forgot about that. Oh well, I’ll just have to rely on my personal allure, won’t I?’

She set off for the tent, pausing only to wiggle her bum and give them a three-fingered wave. ‘Watch and learn, babes!’ she called. ‘Watch and learn!’

Frankie was still smiling after her when a cry tore across the tent.

‘AAAH! Stop it! Stop it, you hateful little urchin!’

The shriek of disgust that echoed round the marquee made Frankie spill orange juice all over the table. She spun round, straining to see what was going on. Ned was already legging it down to the
far end of the tent, a look of horror on his face.

‘I knew this was a crazy idea! You are so out of order, you little scumbag!’ Alice had got a small boy by the collar and was dragging him out of the tent.

‘Alice, no!’ Ned and Frankie yelled, almost in unison. ‘Leave it!’

Within seconds, Alice was cornered not only by both of them, but by two of the care workers who had come with the charity.

‘Get her out of here now.’ The tone of the more senior of the two was icy, as she squatted down and comforted the tearful child. ‘It’s all right, Liam, it wasn’t
your fault.’

‘It so was!’ Alice snapped back. ‘Just look at the state of me – he tipped his blackcurrant all over me deliberately. These trousers are ruined!’

Frankie secretly thought that anyone stupid enough to wear white silk palazzo pants to a kids’ party deserved all they got, but she refrained from saying so.