A pathetic cheese sandwich and a can of diet coke sat on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Thinking of her sitting on her own in an empty flat, eating a crappy cheese sandwich, on Christmas day, made him feel a little ill.
‘Right,’ he said firmly. ‘Get your stuff. We’re leaving.’
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ she returned, her chin going up in defiance and her arms crossing in front of her chest.
‘You lied to your friends, Frankie. Lou is worried sick, and I’m not leaving you here on your own. Seeing as you told Gio and Gabriella that you were spending Christmas with my family, that’s where you’re going to be.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she shot back. ‘The only reason I lied was so that I wasn’t a stupid charity case on Christmas day. People want to spend it with their families, not with some random hanging around. Plus Gio and Gabriella love you and I couldn’t bring myself to tell them that we split up.’
‘You’re not just some random to your friends, Frankie,’ he said, his tone softer now.
‘Well, we’re not friends are we?’ she replied, the hurt she was obviously trying to hide leaking into her voice. ‘You made that clear at the pub. Even the way I speak annoys you apparently. Obviously for whatever reason you hid it whilst we were together, but now you’ve let me know what you really think of me.’ Her voice was trembling and she sounded on the verge of tears. ‘I thought you didn’t mind my shyness and my weird ways; you even had me convinced that you thought it was cute, of all things. How ridiculous. Now, I don’t know what guilt trip Lou’s given you, but I’m not some pathetic lonely loser you have to save. So you can … you can … just … jog on!’
Regret washed over Tom. He really could be a bastard when he was riled.
‘I didn’t mean that, Frankie. I was just … angry.’
She rolled her eyes, clearly not prepared to believe him.
‘Whatever. Look. I’m actually, um …’ She flicked a nervous glance out of the window to the street outside then back to Tom. ‘… waiting for someone, so you need to leave.’
Tom frowned as he glanced at his watch. ‘Who are you waiting for? It’s already gone four o’clock. Doesn’t look like they’re coming.’ She sighed and looked out of the window again.
‘You’re probably right,’ she said under her breath, a heartbreakingly sad expression on her face. She lowered her eyes for a moment, and then met Tom’s gaze head on. ‘But I’ve already eaten so there’s no reason for me to go to your mum’s.’
It was Tom’s turn to roll his eyes. There was no way in hell he was going to leave her here. It actually caused him physical pain to think of her alone on Christmas day with her cheese sandwich. He was also just beginning to realize that he had managed to royally screw things up with Frankieagain.
He should never have let her go, and he certainly shouldn’t have said what he did. He needed to take Lou’s advice and pull his head out of his arse.
‘Right, no more Mr Nice Guy,’ he told her.
‘Nice?’ she scoffed.
‘You either get your stuff and come with me or I throw you over my shoulder, force you into the van, and then set my mum on you.’ Okay, so maybe threatening her with kidnapping wasn’t the smartest first move in his bid to get her back. But he thought he might pass out if he didn’t eat soon, so he needed to hurry this along.
Her eyes were wide with disbelief. ‘You … you … can’t –’
‘Watch me. Oh, and I rang Mum whilst I was waiting for you to let me in, so she’ll have already set a place for you by now and it would be extremely rude –’
He was cut off by Frankie’s loud growl of frustration. He knew that out of all the things he could have said to her, the threat of rudeness would be the most effective to get her moving.
‘Fine, fine,’ she huffed. ‘Just let me change and grab the cake.’
Chapter 28
Humiliated enough
‘Frankie, what do you think?’ Benji shouted in my ear. If he upped the decibel level any more, I feared he might blow out an eardrum. At least he was talking to me. The most I’d received from the adults were polite smiles that didn’t reach their eyes, and muttered hellos.
The contrast to how welcoming they were three weeks ago, before dumping the prodigal son, was stark. I knew the only reason I was even allowed in the house was because they were good people and wouldn’t want anybody (even the evil woman who dared to reject their son) to be alone on Christmas.
‘Benji, honey,’ I said softly, smiling down at him. ‘I’m right here. You don’t have to shout. I can’t choose for you, but I can make either cake in time for your birthday. Maybe if I sketch a Ninja Turtle cake and a Spiderman cake you can decide which you think looks cooler.’
Benji shot to his feet and leapt up off the sofa. We were all sitting together after eating a massive Christmas dinner. I wasn’t at all surprised that the whole family had waited all day for Tom to arrive, or that this had made him extremely unpopular with his sister.
If I weren’t acutely aware of the fact that I was an unwelcome outsider I would have loved the warm, loving, slightly crazy family atmosphere. Tom’s family had been one of the many wonderful things about being with him. I’d never known how being part of a functioning, secure family felt, but I got a glimpse for the few short weeks we were together. Some people would probably find his mum Mary’s fussing, and the unsolicited visits from her and his sister, a bit much, but I hadn’t been able to get enough.
‘Benji,’ Sarah said warningly as Benji ran back into the room, pen and paper in hand, ‘I’m sure Frankie has better things to do than make your birthday cake.’
