A Vision of Green (Florence Vaine #2) (29 page)

I laugh, a real laugh, laced with pleasant tingles at his words. It takes away some of the hurt. Psychologically anyway. It'll take more time for the bruises to heal. “The bath might be t-t-too small for that,” I joke.

“
Ah, such a pity,” Frank laughs too. “So, I suppose I'll let you go then. We're going to have a long talk on Monday Flo, especially in relation to you breaking up with me. That's going to be the first thing we discuss.”

My heart thumps hard. “I'll l-l-look forward to it.”

“
Me too,” says Frank, shortly before we say our goodbyes and hang up.

I stay in bed for most of the day, too sore to do much but lie there and read. I make one trip down to the kitchen and gather enough food to keep me going, so that I don't have to make a return visit. I wish I had the courage to call Sam and tell him about Dad hitting me, that way he might offer to come over and use his healing powers to get rid of the pain. But no, that would be too humiliating.

He already knows how much of a low life Dad is, but for some reason I feel like he'll see me differently, look down on me for being such a weak little victim. I tried to fight back, but even a junkie is stronger than me, how sad is that? Dad's right, I am pathetic. We both are.

On Sunday I'm feeling a little better, and I spend some time working on my aura, on my stutter. It keeps my mind off recent events, as well as my nerves for seeing Frank tomorrow. I clean up the living room and open all the windows to air the place out, getting rid of the smells leftover from Dad's parties. Then I settle in to watch some episodes of Buffy, which are conveniently showing. As I do, my eyes catch on the urn on the window sill, Gran's ashes.

“
I forgive you, you know,” I say, speaking to the urn. To Gran. Wherever she might be. I hadn't realised I'd forgiven her until the words spilled out of my mouth. “You were one of the first people to ever be kind to me. I just wish you hadn't gotten involved with Diana. But I understand how the idea of getting your sight back would have appealed to you. I hope that you can see now. In whatever way the dead might be able to see. I hope you don't feel any more sadness. It must have been sad seeing your son become such a bad person. I get how that would change you, make you less good. But you were still good Gran, just flawed, like we all are.” Speaking to the idea of my dead grandmother is strangely peaceful. I don't stammer, perhaps because I'd been working on my aura earlier, or maybe because there isn't anyone here, not really.

I hate that Dad had her cremated, clearly going for the cheaper option. I'm sure she would have preferred to have been buried. That way people would have been able to put flowers on her grave. I could have visited it, and remembered the happier times. It really is true that when a person dies, you tend to focus only on their good attributes, rather than the bad ones. I don't want to think about the woman who sold me out, I want to think of the woman who cooked for me. Who gave me money to make sure I could get food while at school. Who kept a lovely clean house that felt safe and warm, like home. Gran will always have a place in my heart, no matter what.

On Monday I spend a long while applying some pale concealer to my cheek to hide my bruise. I put on a baggy grey long sleeved top with loose jeans, making sure all of my skin is covered. I stare in the mirror examining my face, turning it from side to side, checking that I can't pick up on any shadows. I let out a sigh. Frank always studies me so closely, he'll probably cop on straight away that I'm trying to hide something.

I take a few generic pain killers, not that they're going to do much good, before heading out for our planned lunch. The town library is a bit of a walk from the house. But the weather is nice and mild so I close my eyes as I walk, savouring the fresh air, the soft breeze. When I almost trip over a crack in the pavement I decide that closed eyes are perhaps not the best idea.

The library is in an old building, although I can't quite make out exactly what it looks like because there's scaffolding covering up the entire right hand side. I notice John's familiar tall frame standing over by the entrance, chatting to a group of other men. All are wearing work clothes and hard hats. I'm so busy looking at them that I don't notice Frank coming toward me. And God, he really does look good in work clothes. He has on a blue t-shirt, black cargo pants and heavy boots. There's also a tool belt slung over his shoulder, and his pants have lots of building dust on the ends.

“
I'm just going to drop this in the truck,” he calls, gesturing to the tool belt and making his way over to John's vehicle. He throws it in, shuts the door with a bang and begins walking toward me again, a smile lighting up his handsome face.

He pulls me into a tight hug, his hands splay flat out on the small of my back. “It's so good to see you,” he tells me softly. “I've been counting down the minutes until one o'clock all day. You smell great,” he finishes, breathing in my hair.

“
Wow, what a welcome,” I say with a short laugh, trying to dissolve his heated attention. I'm also nervous of him having his hands on me, somehow I feel like he's going to be able to sense the bruises.

“
Only the best for you honey,” he answers. “Come on, I thought we'd get take out sandwiches and go eat them in the park.” He glances just over his shoulder, where there's a big open green area right next to the library.

“
Sounds good,” I reply, as he takes my hand and we walk down the street to the deli. Once we've returned with our lunch we find a quiet spot beside an old oak tree and sit down on the grass.

“
I can go grab my jacket from the truck for you to sit on,” Frank offers.

I shake my head and grin. “Not necessary. I d-don't mind getting dirty.” When Frank smirks and cocks an eyebrow I realise what I just said and how it sounded, so I clamp my hand over my mouth.

He laughs. “Don't worry Flo, I'm not Alex. I can let these things go without making a big deal out of them.”

“
Thank God for that, because embarrassing myself when I speak is a bit of an occupational h-h-hazard for me.”

He puts a hand around the back of my neck as I'm unpacking the sandwiches, his thumb stroking back and forth. “One of the many things I adore about you,” he says, and it makes me go still. He adores things about me. This makes me feel, I don't know, happy. Warm. And hot. Too hot. My cheeks flame as though the invisible fire of his aura is heating them.

His mentioning Alex reminds me of Caroline, and how despite her low spirits due to Ingrid's disappearance, she's still been hounding me for information.
Did Alex say anything about me? Did Frank say anything about Alex talking about me?
Those sorts of questions. I always feel so useless when I haven't got anything to report to her, so I decide to do her a favour and ask Frank.

“
D-does Alex ever mention Caroline?” I say casually, taking a bite out of my sandwich. It's delicious, I make a mental note to go back to that deli again.

Frank's hand is still on my neck, and even though I handed him his sandwich he still hasn't eaten any of it. He seems to be entirely focused on me, and it makes me overly self-conscious. Can he see every flaw out here in the open, in the bright light of day? Can he see the concealer covering up my bruise? I was very careful to make sure he wouldn't be able to, but I'm still worried that it might have faded since I put it on.

“
Is this you asking, or Caroline making you ask for her?” he says, grinning and finally dropping his hand to pick up his food. He takes a bite and chews on it, waiting for my response.

“
I'm so obvious, aren't I?” I reply dejectedly.

He laughs. “Nah, it's just me being me and you being you. When we're together I pick up on stuff I wouldn't normally pick up on with other people.”

“
Ah.” I mumble, looking down at my hands before continuing, “So yeah, she's been hounding me for info, got anything to report? I know he rejected her before, but he seems to f-flirt with her sometimes.”

Frank eyes me for a long moment, still chewing. “She likes him does she?”

“
That's a question Frank, not information,” I say, poking him in the ribs. He fake snaps his teeth at my fingers and his blue gaze smoulders. I swallow hard.

“
Yeah it was, wasn't it,” he states evasively.

“
It was,” I agree, not able to hold back a smile as the sides of my lips turn up. A soft breeze blows my hair in my face. I push it back behind my ear. This is nice, Frank being teasing and flirty, the birds chirping in the background. I can almost forget about what happened the last time I saw Dad, almost not feel the pain in my centre.

“
Well he does seem to have resigned himself to the fact that nothing's ever going to happen between him and Layla,” Frank offers, breaking my thoughts.

“
That's good,” I reply, taking a sip from my juice.

Frank grins and shakes his head. “Maybe I shouldn't say anything, I feel like I'm breaking some sort of brotherly code.”

Feeling a little dizzy at his nearness, I decide to do something out of character as I lean in and place a light kiss on the side of his mouth. “You should tell me,” I whisper, trying to be a different girl, one who knows how to flirt. I suppose since Dad's blackmail is out in the open now I don't have to hold back any more.

Frank's breathing goes ragged. “You always surprise me Flo,” he replies, before making an effort to pull back from me slightly and sit up straight. Okay, now I don't know if that worked or if I just made a fool of myself. I stay quiet, watching the movement of his throat as he swallows another bite of his sandwich.

“
Well, I guess that definitely warrants something in return,” he says, somewhat bemused. “Alex doesn't say much about girls he likes, but he has mentioned Caroline once or twice. Well, at least I think it was Caroline he'd been talking about. Sometimes with Alex you have to read between the lines. A few days ago he started going on about never having been with a red head before, and asked me if I thought red heads were hot,” Frank stops and laughs, regarding me fondly. “I told him I preferred brunettes,” he trails a finger through my long hair. My cheeks go warm. “Then yesterday he was saying that he was going to go for a clever chick because he was so tired of dumb girls who are easy. He said something about wanting a challenge, though I was only half listening.”

I gasp at his words. “That r-really sounds like he was talking about Caroline. She's going to h-h-have a heart attack when I tell her.”

Frank shrugs his shoulders and frowns a little. “If they got together it might be difficult. Do you remember that time in PE when I wasn't feeling myself the other week?” I nod. “Well Alex has a lot of days like those too, probably the most out of all of us. Before he came to live with John he had a foster dad with a drinking problem. He'd beat on Alex, mostly only took him in because of the government money he could get for taking care of a foster kid. One day Alex had enough of him and fought back. Put him in the hospital. Long story short, the boy has a hot temper. He can be moody, smart-mouthed, sometimes absolutely awful company and at worst you just don't want to be around him at all. Don't get me wrong, Caroline's a lovely girl, but she seems sensitive, and if Alex can never tell her about his demon, the real reason why he's acting strange some days, then I don't know how it could work long term.”

Frank's story about Alex and his alcoholic foster dad puts me on edge, it's way too close to home for me right now. Goosebumps rise on my skin. I feel like Frank will somehow see into my head and know what I'm thinking about. Dad. Him hitting me. My crap efforts to fight back. I shake away the thoughts and focus back on the topic at hand.

“
B-but Ross told Layla the truth and she's a normal girl like Caroline, maybe if Alex knew that Caroline could be trusted with the secret he could tell her eventually.”

“
Maybe,” Frank agrees. “Do you think she could keep the secret though? Layla and Caroline might both be normal, but they're light years apart when it comes to the kind of girls they are.”

“
That's t-t-true.” I admit. “How did Ross manage to tell Layla about himself anyway?” I can't help that I'm curious about Frank's quiet and reserved foster brother and his relationship with Layla, who, as she once told me herself, is his complete opposite.

“
It's not much of a story,” Frank replies. “They fell madly in love, and when we fall in love we want to share everything with the object of our affections.” Our gazes meet. All this talk about love is making me anxious. Frank stares at me for a long moment before continuing, “Ross got into a lot of trouble with John when he told her, but it's all good now. When we find our soul mates, there can't be any secrets.” His words catch me off guard. If ever I had a soul mate it would have to be Frank, but I seem to be keeping a whole lot of secrets from him.