Jonas watched Frankie’s expression change when Freya entered the gallery. It was as if she’d brought an icy draught in with her because Frankie’s face drained of colour and her green eyes widened as she peered up at Freya.
As he stared at them both, Jonas realized why Frankie had seemed so familiar when he’d first seen her: it was because she reminded him of Freya.
How was that even possible?
‘I’ll get some coffees.’ Freya was in her efficient professional business mode. He’d seen it many times before, the slow lifting of her chin and pushing back of her shoulders, the gentle patting of her hair then the determined way she put one foot in front of the other.
Frankie, on the other hand, seemed to have slumped in her chair.
‘I think I have all the details I need now.’ Jonas tried to get her attention.
She nodded but stared at her hands.
‘Frankie?’
‘Uh?’
‘I said I have everything I need for now but I’ll give you my number in case you think of anything else. Or change your mind.’ He gave small laugh, trying to thaw the atmosphere that had changed when Freya had walked in, but Frankie seemed oblivious to his attempt at a joke.
‘Why would I change my mind?’
‘Some people do, especially if it’s an impulse buy.’
Frankie shook her head. ‘I won’t change my mind.’
Jonas nodded then pushed his chair back. ‘I’ll see if Freya needs a hand. Be right back.’
He left Frankie sitting at the desk, suspecting that for some reason or other she needed a few moments alone, and walked through the gallery to the kitchenette.
Was she running away from something? She certainly had that shell-shocked air of a woman needing some space from something that life had thrown at her. He was also puzzled about her reaction to Freya. He knew Freya had left England almost thirty years ago and that she’d had a troubled time there, but she’d never told him everything. In fact, she’d said it was too painful to speak about in detail but that she’d loved and lost and that she often wished she could turn back time and start over. But that wasn’t possible because life didn’t have a rewind button.
Freya was practical and philosophical and Jonas looked up to her. He admired her artistic talent, although these days she didn’t paint that much, and he found her attitude towards life inspiring. She was a free spirit too; he recognized it in her but she also had a haunted quality that told of harder times, of a broken heart. She’d been out with him a few times on his tours to experience the freedom of the Norwegian wilderness first-hand, but he sensed that she was wishing someone was with her on those tours. Perhaps more than one person…
Whoever it was that she’d been forced to leave behind when she left England.
‘Everything all right, Freya?’ he asked, as he entered the small kitchenette and found her making coffee.
‘Yes, Jonas, thank you, although I do have a bit of a headache today.’
‘If you’d like, I could make the coffee and take it through. That customer… Frankie Ashford… has just bought one of my Northern Lights range.’ He got three mugs from the cupboard then pulled the milk from the fridge. ‘I forgot to ask if she wants milk.’ He frowned.
‘Did you say Frankie Ashford?’
He turned to look at Freya and her eyes bored into his. He’d never seen her like this before. Her calming presence, her joie de vivre, had dispersed and it was like looking at a stranger.
‘Freya, what is it? You’re worrying me.’
‘Oh, Jonas, I knew that one day my past would catch up with me but I didn’t know exactly how.’
‘Your past?’
‘Yes.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I know and it’s a long story.’
‘I’m a good listener.’
‘I will tell you, I promise. You’ve been a good friend to me and you deserve to know. Of course, it could just be a coincidence and perhaps it’s a different Frankie Ashford.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I know.’ She shook her head.
‘I don’t want to pry, Freya, I just want to know that you’re all right.’
She placed a cool hand on his arm. Her silver bangles jangled as they always did and her short purple glitter nails sparkled.
‘You’re not prying, Jonas, and you have a right to know the truth. You’re like a son to me.’
He swallowed hard at the compliment. He knew that Freya respected him and his work but to say that he was like a son to her was more than he’d expected. She didn’t have anyone else and she led a quiet life, and sometimes he worried about her because of it, but whenever he’d tried to ask if she was OK, she always brushed off his concerns. He hugged her with one arm, almost embarrassed to make contact but sensing that Freya needed it.
She smiled up at him. ‘You sweetheart! Thank you. Right, I have an idea. Seeing as how that young woman just made a purchase, I think we should take her out to dinner to celebrate. What do you think?’
He swallowed his response about the fact that she’d only bought one photograph and that would probably pay for one meal, because Freya looked so keen that he didn’t want to disappoint her. ‘I think that’s a great idea. Will you invite her?’
She shook her head.
‘You do it but make sure she doesn’t refuse. If she can’t come tonight, then suggest tomorrow, and reassure her that we do this with most customers. I’ll stay out here, so you tell her I’ve got caught up with an international customer on the phone.’
‘Will do. The usual place?’
‘Yes. I’ll book a table for eight.’
Jonas placed two mugs of coffee on a tray along with a small jug of milk and some sachets of sugar then carried it through to the gallery. Freya was acting strangely but she’d asked him to trust her and told him that she’d explain everything, so he’d try not to worry. He was also glad that he had the excuse to ask to see Frankie again.
She was special in some way and he wasn’t quite sure what it was, and she was linked to Freya or the gallery or to some aspect of their lives too, he felt sure of it. So there was no way that he could let Frankie walk out of their lives today without ensuring that they’d see each other at least once more.
‘Thank you.’ Frankie accepted the mug of coffee then shook her head to milk and sugar.
‘Freya sends her apologies but she’s on the phone to an international customer.’
‘Oh… right.’
Frankie sipped her coffee to try to hide her disappointment. She didn’t think that Freya had recognized her but she’d wanted her to, and the fact that her mother had just walked away without a second glance was making her chest hurt.
She winced as hot coffee filled her mouth and tried not to spit it back out. Instead, she rolled it around her mouth then swallowed. What was a bit of physical pain compared to the heartache she was suffering? She’d been stupid coming here, stupid hoping for more. Sometimes, answers never came and she should have just accepted that. She’d drink her coffee then get up, walk out and go home. What else could she do?
‘Frankie, how would you feel about dinner tonight?’
She met his gaze.
‘Dinner?’
‘Yes. With Freya and me.’ His cheeks coloured in that way she already found endearing and he glanced away as if he was uncomfortable before meeting her eyes again. ‘It’s a standard thing we do with most customers.’ He frowned. ‘Especially ones from abroad. I would have liked to ask you out to dinner anyway, even if you hadn’t made a purchase, but Freya would like to come too. Not as some kind of gooseberry, you understand. But then it’s not a date. Oh stop talking, Jonas.’ He tapped his forehead and smiled. ‘I will start again. Frankie, would you like to join Freya and me for dinner so we can tell you more about beautiful Norway and convince you to visit Oslo again someday?’
‘I’d love to.’
‘Tonight?’
‘Yes. Why not?’
Her heart skipped. Her mother wanted to have dinner with her, even if it was as a customer, and so did Jonas. Although it seemed that Jonas would’ve liked to take her out anyway and she wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that right now. It made something inside her flutter, but she needed to process what was happening, and if this was the right thing to do. After twenty-nine years, she was going to have dinner with her mother. She wanted to jump up and down and punch the air and scream and cry and run up and down the street. But she’d do none of those things because then they’d wonder what on earth was wrong with her.
So instead she calmly asked, ‘Where are we dining?’
‘I’ll write the details down for you.’ He eyed her outfit. ‘It’s smart dress. Not that you’re not smart. I think you look great. Like… really great.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Here I go again. What I meant was that they don’t allow casual attire in the restaurant.’
‘That’s fine. No problem at all.’
Frankie took the paper he’d written the restaurant details on then tucked it into her bag. She’d need to hit the shops again to find something to wear this evening. And that was fine, because if there was one thing Frankie knew how to do, it was to dress for dinner.
She stood up then he walked her to the door and she shook his hand again.
‘I’ll see you there at about eight then. And by the way, I think you look pretty good too.’
She flashed him a grin then stepped out into the Oslo afternoon, her stomach full of butterflies but her heart lighter than it had felt in years.