Frankie and Joely (5 page)

Chapter 10

Frankie stares out the window of the car as Jill and Joely chat in the front. It's like she's a thousand miles away from anything, and she's surprised at how nice it feels.

‘So how is your mum? Really?' says Jill.

Frankie listens as Joely pauses for a really long time before saying, ‘I don't know'.

It was exactly the same answer she'd give if someone asked her. Perhaps, Frankie thinks, it's always the same answer because nobody really knows anybody else. It's always a bit of a mystery.

‘She rang to say I had to feed you lots of salad. And not potato salad, but leafy salad,' says Jill, sounding like she wants to laugh.

‘Great,' says Joely. ‘Leaves are my thing. I'm a regular koala.'

Frankie smiles at her friend's sarcastic tone and wonders why Joely's mum is so weird about food. If somebody was feeding Frankie, her mum wouldn't care less. As long as she ate it and didn't come home hungry.

Jill pulls the car off the road. ‘See you later, girls. Have a swim for me.'

As Frankie starts to get out of the car, Jill adds, ‘Oh and if you see those boys of mine send them home. Ged has a list of jobs for them. Just because it's school holidays doesn't mean they can slack off at the pool.' Jill tries to lighten it with a laugh, but Frankie can't help but wonder if she wants them home because she doesn't want them spending the day with her.

Frankie is surprised to see Joely lean over and give her aunt a kiss on the cheek. Joely seems much happier than when she kissed her mum goodbye at the train station.

Climbing out of the car, Frankie looks at the pool. It's a box of blue water, surrounded by green grass and so many bodies; half the town must be there. There are kids screaming as they bomb into the water, splashing it everywhere and a mother yells at her child to get out of the deep end. Frankie wonders how they've managed to keep the grass so green. Perhaps all the pool water that gets splashed out keeps it bright.

Jill toots as she drives off and Frankie follows Joely towards the entrance. The smell of chlorine is strong even from out here. A guy is leaning back on a stool, texting when they walk past. He doesn't look up. ‘Four twenty for a swim.'

Joely hands him a ten-dollar note and Frankie lets Joely pay for her.

‘Your change,' he says, finally looking up. He looks straight at Frankie.

Joely sees him watching her friend with her long brown hair hanging straight, and her sunglasses covering half her face and she's pleased. She's never been noticed here on her own before. With Frankie she feels special because she's with the girl the boys stare at.

She grabs Frankie by the arm and pulls her through the turnstile onto the steamy, chipped concrete. Joely can't remember the pool being this sunny, but she hasn't been here for a while. Last year the pool was closed because of some council battle that was going on, and the year before that she hadn't been able to swim because her wrist was in a cast. Now she looks around, her heart racing, sweat running down her back. Her mouth is really dry, like the air is sucking the water out of her whole body. ‘There's no shade,' says Joely scanning the grass for a spot. ‘This is a bad idea.'

‘It's tiny,' says Frankie.

Joely's too busy trying to find cover to answer Frankie.

‘Joel,' Frankie elbows her. ‘It's tiny,' she says again, looking stunned at the size of the pool.

‘Yes. I told you. It's a country pool.'

‘There's more grass than water,' Frankie says. Laughing, she walks to an empty rectangle and drops her stuff.

‘Don't be a snob,' says Joely.

‘I'm not. But technically this is more like a spa than a pool.'

‘The locals call it a pool.'

‘They probably call the main street a shopping strip, too.'

Joely looks at Frankie spreading out her towel. ‘I'm not lying here. I'll fry,' she says.

‘Just for twenty minutes. Then we'll find some shade.'

‘No,' barks Joely, suddenly cross. Just because Frankie has olive skin, doesn't mean she shouldn't understand what happens if Joely lies in the direct sun for more than ten seconds.

‘Okay then,' says Frankie as she lies on her stomach. Perching on her elbows, she watches four teenage boys wrestling with a large blow-up tube, trying to dump each other in the deep end. She smiles at the sight, liking their bodies, and wonders how old they are.

‘If you can find somewhere better I'll move,' says Frankie. But Joely sits on her towel just close enough to be with her, but far enough away to make a point. She watches Joely cover herself in as much sunscreen as skin can actually take, and hopes that Joely won't sulk for the rest of the afternoon.

One of the boys flips over the tube in the pool. The others get dumped and come up yelling. Frankie turns to see if Joely has noticed. But her friend is hiding under a huge hat and is reading some daggy book she must have borrowed from Jill. It looks like a bad middle-aged romance.

‘I actually like spas,' says Frankie, but Joely pretends not to hear. ‘Spas are much better than pools. Besides it looks super deep and super cold and that's really all that matters,' says Frankie loudly.

Joely looks over her book and raises an eyebrow reminding Frankie of someone's grandmother.

‘In fact, it looks so inviting that I'm going in,' says Frankie.

Joely watches Frankie stand, drop her t-shirt and short skirt on the towel and walk cat-like in her red bikini to the edge of the pool. The boys turn on their rubber tube, sensing her presence behind them. She expects them to say something, but instead they just stare, like she's something they've been waiting for all day.

Frankie steps up, balancing on the concrete edge. Everything becomes still. The whole pool is waiting, wondering what this girl with the long hair and the red bikini is going to do next. Then, surprising even Joely, Frankie spins round and salutes her. It's such an odd gesture, so out of character for Frankie, that it's like she's leaving Joely forever. Then she dives perfectly into the pool, the water splashing as she disappears.

Joely jumps to her feet and waits for Frankie to come up. Maybe Joely was wrong about how deep it was and Frankie has split her head open on the bottom. The boys crane up
on their rubber tube, kneeling like a pack of expectant
children, wondering what has happened to their entertainment. Mothers gather up dripping toddlers and clutch them to their hips, ignoring pleas and wild cries. And Joely stares at the place she last saw her friend.

Seconds pass. A crow circles, surveying the scene.

Suddenly, Frankie shoots out of the water at the other end of the pool. She must have swum all the way along the bottom like a stingray. Joely hears her laughing. There's no acknowledgement of her audience. She just raises her arms and dives under again like she's finally come home.

People on the grass start moving again. Toddlers are released back into the shallow end. The boys return to wrestling each other off the tube, turning away from the strange girl who briefly interrupted their session like a shark. Frankie's laugh can be heard, punctuating each plunge into the pool.

Joely sits on her towel and picks up her book. She tries to read but can't. She pretends it's the sun, the heat, the book. But her friend has distracted her and now she can't concentrate. She stands up and walks over to the pool with her hat and dress and thongs on. She bends down to touch the water, and it's so cold she wishes she could fall in and swim with Frankie up and down the pool, chasing the deep together. She almost does. But she doesn't want Frankie to think she's following her. And besides, she's still cross with her for not understanding how easily she burns. So she walks back to her towel, hoping onlookers aren't laughing at her. She wishes that Frankie would come out, so she didn't feel like a concerned mother watching her child.

A shadow crosses her face and she looks up. Mack is holding out a dripping ice-cream. Joely reaches to take it, expecting him to pull his hand away and laugh. But he doesn't. Instead he waits until she's taken it and then he licks the strawberry patches from his hand.

‘Thanks, Mack.'

‘Yeah.'

He sits down on Frankie's towel, his freckled legs caught up under him. He looks huge. Like a man from another time. Last summer Mack was still skinny. Now his voice is deep and he towers over her like she was a child. Joely remembered when they used to play chasey in the field. He was only a year and a half older, but he always won.

‘You're supposed to be helping your dad. What are you doing here?'

‘Actually, Dad sent me to get some—'

‘Ice-cream?' Joely laughs.

‘Nah. Nails and things.' He sounds vague and Joely wonders if he followed them to check out Frankie in her bikini.

‘Is Thommo with you?'

Mack shakes his head. ‘Nah. Dad's got him fixing the fence. Some of the cows got out again.'

Joely wonders how Thommo copes working in this weather. His skin is just as freckly as hers, but he never seems to get burnt.

‘Your friend got a boyfriend?'

‘No.'

‘She want one?'

‘Why?'

Mack doesn't answer and Joely wonders if he's asking for himself. Not that Joely would know anyway. Even though they talk about stuff and Frankie is the person that Joely trusts more than anyone else, they don't really talk about boys. Not like the other girls at school. They're always writing names of boys they like across their bags, but Frankie doesn't mention anyone. She never says if she's been with a boy or if she likes someone. They just don't talk about it. Joely licks the strawberry ice-cream in circles, trying to lower it into the cone and stop the sticky melt running down her hand.

‘Is she a bit crazy?' Mack says.

‘No. She just likes having fun. Why?'

‘Dunno. I just saw her in the pool, going up and back underwater. She's freaking people out.'

Joely laughs. She's used to these conversations. There's always someone asking. She never tells them anything they can use. Not because she's trying to put them off or because she's jealous. It's just that there isn't anything to tell. Frankie's not crazy. She's just different and does her own thing. Joely puts it down to the fact that she's been to twelve schools and is never in the same place for long. She's used to being on her own. Joely hates thinking about that. Hates imagining that Frankie's going to move towns, states even. Frankie keeps telling her it's not going to happen, but Joely doesn't know if Frankie's just saying it to make her feel better. She's nearly been in town for two years. That's the longest her mum has stayed anywhere.

‘How come you two are friends? You don't seem much alike.'

‘We just are. You don't need to be alike to like someone.'

‘Yeah, but …'

Joely bites her cone. It's soft from all the drips. She knows Mack wants to say something else. She knows, too, that the ice-cream isn't just a gift, but a payment for information. She looks up and sees a boy looking at them from outside the pool. He has a cap on so it's hard to see his face properly. Then Mack looks up and Joely thinks he must notice the boy too because he shifts slightly and then says loudly, ‘I'm not going back to school next year.'

Joely looks at her cousin, but now he's staring at the water, probably hoping for a glimpse of Frankie in her second-hand bikini. By the time Joely turns to see the boy again, he's disappeared and she wonders who he was.

‘Why not?'

‘Dad's got me a job at the mechanics.'

‘Fixing cars?'

Mack turns and grins at her and he looks like her cousin again. Not like some man she doesn't know, but just the boy she grew up with.

‘Nah. Selling petrol.'

‘Really?'

‘It's not that bad, Joely. It's the only job going around here. At least I'll be earning money and I can buy a car. It's not like I'm learning anything at school. I always thought I'd work the farm, but …' he trails off.

Joely's surprised Mack's telling her all this. He doesn't usually confess things. Embarrassed, she holds the end of the ice-cream cone out to him. There's a thin line of strawberry left on the inside. He reaches for it, but she swipes it away, swallowing it in one mouthful. Mack jumps up, grabs her arm and twists the skin like he used to.

‘Let go,' she says, trying to pull her arm away, not really angry because it doesn't hurt. She looks at him, but his face is haloed by the sun glaring behind it. She closes her eyes for a second, imagining she's seven.

When she opens them, Mack is sitting on the towel beside her again. She looks over, wondering if she's offended him by not fighting back like she would have once. But he doesn't seem to be aware of her at all. And then she knows that Frankie is walking back from the water, face beaming, dripping wet and happy, and Mack is watching every step.

‘You going to get off my towel, Mack?' asks Frankie in that direct way of hers.

‘Shit. Sorry.' He moves fast, grabbing, shaking and trying to clean it all in one go.

Frankie grabs the towel from him, stretches it out on the grass and sits down. ‘That was great,' she says.

‘You should be careful. Some kid smashed their head last week. Nearly died,' says Mack in an offhand way.

‘Yeah?'

‘It's not as deep as it looks.' Mack starts to tell more, but Frankie's reaching over for her bag, and watching her in motion stops his conversation. She pulls out her sunglasses.

Joely watches him watching. Right ankle. Left shoulder. Mouth. She hates seeing her cousin so stuck.

‘You want to sit, Mack?' says Joely.

‘Yeah, maybe,' he says, pacing.

‘Your mum told us to send you home,' says Frankie in a voice Joely hasn't heard before. ‘But we can pretend we didn't see you, can't we, Joel?'