On the walk back to her house, Frankie couldn’t banish the image of Jonas cupping her face in his big hands from her mind. It was emblazoned there, as was his touch, imprinted upon her skin. Frankie had never been a hopeless romantic, remaining unconvinced by her girlfriends’ claims that they were madly in love and that they had found ‘the one’. Love like that only existed in books and movies and she had never expected to feel anything like it or to even want to.
Until now…
She glanced sideways at him as they walked. With his long-legged strides and imposing height, he was impossible to miss. She actually had to walk faster than was comfortable in order to keep up with him.
His gesture, brushing her hair from her face and tucking it behind her ears, was innocuous enough but it had been so gentle, and when his hands had then rested on her cheeks, something inside her had somersaulted and she’d pulled away quickly before she flung her arms around him and kissed him the way they kissed in fiction.
She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself smiling. This was all a bit silly and romantic and she knew that it probably had roots in what she was going through with her mother, her grandmother and breaking up with Rolo. No doubt a psychologist would explain it clearly and tell her to take care, as she was likely to regret any impulsive actions linked to Jonas. Frankie was not impulsive.
But around Jonas she wanted to be.
They climbed the stone steps outside her house and she slid her key into the lock. Once inside, she paused. Something was… different.
Music was playing. Her father had never played music for as long as she could remember. Sometimes Grandma would have her radio stations on in the dining room, as she listened to opera or a radio play, but now uplifting pop music filled the hallway, making it seem more positive and alive than ever before.
She shrugged off her coat and hung it on the coat stand then kicked off her boots.
‘Are you all right, Frankie? You looked shocked just then.’
‘It’s the music. Dad never plays music even though he has lots of records in the cellar from… from before.’
‘Before?’
‘Before Freya left.’
‘Ah…’ Jonas nodded. ‘Freya loves music. Anything and everything. Sometimes I’ve even seen her cry as she listens to it but she refuses to turn it off.’
‘I think that’s why Dad never plays music. He doesn’t want it to stir his emotions up.’ Frankie shook her head. She was learning more about her parents all the time, even her father who had been there as she’d grown up. ‘Let’s go and see what they’re up to, shall we?’
Jonas nodded.
In the kitchen, they found Hugo and Freya side by side at the marble-topped kitchen island. They had glasses of red wine in front of them and were laughing as they spooned food into serving bowls and chopped and stirred bubbling pans.
Frankie stood in the doorway watching them. It was a scene she’d long ago stopped imagining as it was far too painful when it didn’t materialise. The idea of united parents was a childhood fantasy, although Freya’s face had always been hazy in those daydreams, but now she was here. Standing next to her father. And they looked… happy.
Jonas cleared his throat and Freya and Hugo both looked up.
‘Oh, hello. I didn’t hear the door go.’ Hugo grinned at them.
‘We went to the deli and got dinner and Hugo’s making his mushroom and basil risotto.’ Freya gestured at the spread in front of them.
‘Where’s Annie?’
‘We told her to take the night off.’ Freya waved a hand. ‘That girl works far too hard.’
‘How about a carpet picnic?’ Hugo asked.
‘A carpet picnic?’ Frankie stared at her parents.
‘Yes, sweetheart. Have you never had one?’ Freya came around the island and Frankie could see that she was wearing one of the housekeeper’s aprons.
‘No.’
‘Well, you are in for a treat!’ Freya clapped her hands. ‘Here, you two take the wine through to the lounge and find a movie to watch. Your father and I will bring the food in a bit.’
Jonas accepted the bottle of wine from Hugo and two clean glasses, and Frankie led the way into the lounge. She couldn’t speak; she was unable to formulate the words that were spinning around her head into coherent sentences.
She sank onto one of the plush sofas and curled her feet up under her as Jonas filled the two glasses then handed one to her.
‘I’ll look for a film, shall I?’
She nodded.
Jonas sat next to her as he scanned the channels, occasionally asking her if she’d seen this or that movie and if she fancied it. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she didn’t care what they watched as long as they were all together. But she really didn’t. She was overwhelmed by what she’d just seen and terrified of doing or saying anything that might upset it, so she sat still as a statue, waiting to see what would happen next.
When her father entered the lounge, he had two large patchwork quilts under his arms. He pushed the other sofa back and spread one quilt out on the floor, then gestured at the sofa Frankie and Jonas were sitting on. Jonas got up and pushed the sofa back effortlessly, even though Frankie was still sitting on it, then Hugo spread the other quilt out in front of her sofa.
Freya came in with a large tray of food.
‘I’ll go and get the rest,’ Hugo said.
‘Frankie, darling, you need to sit on the floor.’
‘What?’ Frankie had a vision of Grandma’s reaction when she’d found Frankie sitting on the lounge floor when she was about eight. Grandma had told her that the floor was for pets and not for humans and that she should sit as she’d been taught to do, on the sofa, back straight and legs to one side, crossed at the ankles. She’d barely been allowed a childhood at all, Grandma had been so caught up with the importance of appearances and what was right and proper.
‘Come here.’ Jonas took her hand and helped her stand up then he sat down on the quilt and she sat next to him.
‘Now, help yourselves to whatever you want.’ Freya handed them plates. ‘We got cheeses, breads, meats, dips, olives, sun-dried tomatoes, Hugo’s risotto… and so on.’
‘It looks delicious.’ Jonas nudged Frankie.
‘It does. Thanks.’
‘My pleasure.’ Freya held her gaze and Frankie saw a flash of uncertainty there. For all that her mother seemed confident and happy, beneath the surface she was just as vulnerable as Frankie was. They were both trying to navigate their way around this new situation, as was her father. Thank goodness that Jonas was here to relieve the tension that would otherwise have been unbearable, because if he’d been absent, then they might have felt compelled to discuss everything that had built up over the years more quickly, and sometimes certain topics required a gentler approach, to be dealt with softly and slowly.
Once Hugo had brought in the rest of the food, as well as another bottle of wine from his well-stocked cellar, Jonas ran through the movie options.
‘I think we should go with that new Marvel one.’ Frankie smiled.
‘The Thor one?’ Jonas frowned at her.
‘Oh yes, let’s watch that one!’ Freya said. ‘I always think that Jonas is a bit like that Chris what’s-his-name.’
Jonas shook his head, but he was smiling. His lovely, open and honest smile that Frankie was growing quite fond of.
As the final credits rolled, Frankie drained her wine glass then placed it on the coffee table. She’d been absorbed in the movie but not so much that she hadn’t noticed the glances her parents shared or how they laughed at the same scenes and lines of dialogue. She’d also been conscious of Jonas at her side – how could she not be when he’d offered her food, topped up her wine and smiled at her now and then, lifting her heart and making her feel that everything would be OK?
Jonas was so reassuring, just by being there, and it made her aware of what a good guy he was. Not many men could pull off caring and supportive like that. She had a feeling that whatever happened, he might be a part of her life from now on, even if remotely, as Freya’s friend. Frankie suspected she would still want to know how he was, what he was doing, and to see him again.
I will want to see him again.
The thought ricocheted around her mind, the idea of never seeing him once he returned to Norway seeming too awful to dwell on. So she wouldn’t. For now… even though he had a whole life she knew nothing about and came from a different world to the one she had lived in.
Yet hadn’t she often heard the phrase ‘opposites attract’?
Hugo had gone and got another bottle of wine and the four of them were lounging around the fire now, gazing into the flames as they enjoyed the dark ruby vintage Chianti.
‘Did you always want to be a photographer, Jonas?’ Hugo asked.
‘Pretty much. I tried painting when I was at school but I wasn’t very good and it frustrated me because I saw so much beauty in the world that I wanted to capture. So, when I was twelve, one of my teachers suggested photography and from there, my enthusiasm for it escalated. Every birthday and Christmas, I’d ask for money to save for the perfect camera. I started with a very basic model but when I got a job at sixteen, helping out at a building firm with stocktaking and the like, I was able to invest in better equipment.’
‘I bet your parents are proud.’ Hugo smiled.
‘My mother says she is.’
‘What about your father?’
‘Oh… he’s not around. He died when I was very young.’
‘Gosh, I’m sorry. I’d just assumed from how you spoke about your family and friends before that you had both parents around.’ Hugo grimaced.
‘Don’t be. It’s not your fault. I don’t really remember him because I was a toddler when he had a heart attack. He was older than my mother by twenty years. She tells me good things about him and says I remind her of him and that’s a comfort. I wish I had known him but it just wasn’t meant to be and Mum always made me feel as if he was still there, which might be what you picked up on. He was a part of my life even though he wasn’t there physically, if that makes sense.’ He looked at Frankie and she nodded. She understood. Jonas didn’t feel robbed of his father because his mother had more than compensated for his loss. Sure, he’d have liked to have had him around but from what his mother had told him, his father had been ill for years and it was a miracle that they’d conceived Jonas. So she’d always told him that he was her gift from her husband, his way of making sure she had a reason to go on when he was unable to stay with her any longer.
Frankie’s situation had been different. She’d known her mother was out there somewhere, and from what he’d been told she had believed her mother hadn’t wanted or loved her. None of it was true but that was what she’d been led to believe. Not by Hugo, apparently, but by her grandmother, and Jonas wondered what sort of woman her grandmother was. Who did that to a child?
‘What about you, Frankie?’ Freya asked. ‘Did you always want to go into management consultancy?’
Frankie sat up and crossed her legs.
‘Not really.’
‘I’m afraid that Frankie was kind of… directed into her career.’ Hugo hung his head and stared into his wine glass. ‘It’s all quite beastly now that I look back at it.’
‘I wanted to do something creative, to follow a career in the arts in some way. I wasn’t really sure how but I did know I wanted the freedom of working for myself.’ Frankie sighed. ‘However, Grandma said I needed to do something sensible and to follow a career that would earn me a decent wage and reputation. She suggested a few things like law and accountancy and I knew it wasn’t worth putting up a fight. After some work experience with an acquaintance of hers, I decided to go into management consultancy because there seemed to be a gap in the market.’
‘Do you enjoy it?’ Jonas asked.
‘It has good days and some that are… not so good.’
‘If you’d done what you wanted to, what would you be doing now?’ Freya asked, her eyes fixed on her daughter.
‘I’d be… designing clothes.’
‘Really?’ Freya’s eyes widened.
‘Yes. I love fabrics and colours and matching them up and I would have loved to have been a fashion designer.’
‘It’s not too late.’ Jonas inched his hand sideways until he could brush her hand with his. He wanted to reassure her, to encourage her to continue to open up to her mother… and to him. ‘You could still do this.’
Frankie shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I mean… I have clients and people relying on me. I have—’
‘You have time, Frankie. Plenty of time and you should do what makes you happy.’ Freya raised her wine glass. ‘Here’s to new beginnings.’
‘Cheers.’ Hugo clinked his glass with hers and Jonas did the same with Frankie.
‘Frankie, I’m so sorry. I feel that I’ve let you down terribly in so many ways.’ In the firelight, Hugo’s face looked haggard and he seemed much older than his fifty-eight years.
‘No, you haven’t, Dad. You did your best.’
‘I didn’t. I should have done so many things differently, starting with going after your mother when she left.’
‘Hugo, you couldn’t have.’ Freya shook her head. ‘She wouldn’t have let you.’
‘I could have stood up to her.’
‘And she’d have carried through her threat.’
‘I don’t think she would have. Mother wasn’t that foolish. She’d have lost me too.’
‘And you might have lost Frankie. At least you were there for her.’
‘I’ll never forgive myself for being such a coward.’
Freya took Hugo’s hand. ‘You are, and have always been, a good man. You don’t have a bad bone in your body. I wish things had been different, that Helen hadn’t been so… overpowering, but I also know why you did what you did. I wish I had acted differently, but I can’t change it now. It ate away at me for years and that kind of guilt rots you from the inside. But finally…’ Her voice thickened and she took a few deep breaths. ‘Finally, Hugo, we have a chance to put things right.’
‘Aren’t you at all angry with me, Freya? You’re perfectly entitled to be.’
Freya sighed softly. ‘Over the years, I’ve been through a whole range of emotions. I often lay awake deep into the night wondering why you didn’t fight for me, why you didn’t try to find me. You had my address. You could have come after me, brought Frankie and we could have been together again. But you didn’t.’
‘The absolutely biggest regret of my life is that I was such a cowardly ass. All I can say in my defence is that Mother was always so domineering and I lost sight of how things should have been, of how I should have protected you and put you before all others. Things between you and me hadn’t been… well, we weren’t as close as we’d once been, and I know now that it was because of a combination of factors, including my mother’s interference, me being weak and not as supportive as I could have been, and you being unwell. I also… I worried that you left because I’d already let you down and that if I followed you, you might not want me. Then I’d have been in a right old pickle.’
‘I don’t think that would have been the case, Hugo, but I was very unwell for quite some time. None of us know what we’d have done back then and even with hindsight, we can’t turn back the clock. It’s a shame but it’s the way life goes. What we can do now is look forwards and appreciate what we have. Look at our beautiful, perfect daughter, for instance.’
‘We made her.’
‘We did.’
‘But she has made herself into the amazing woman she is today. I never want to leave your life again, Frankie.’
‘Please don’t.’ Frankie shook her head then pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them, and Jonas saw a flash of how she would have looked as a little girl. Afraid. Lonely. Confused. And the urge to comfort her grew even stronger.
‘Right… shall we get some dessert, Hugo? We did buy a delicious-looking strawberry gateau.’
‘Indeed we did! It looks rather marvellous, in fact.’
Hugo and Freya left the lounge and Jonas turned to Frankie.
‘You OK?’ he whispered, running his gaze over her pretty profile, from her chin that was set at an angle that suggested a permanent display of strength, to her rosebud mouth, her thin straight nose and her large expressive green eyes.
‘Yes, I’m fine. It’s just that so much is happening and I’m trying to digest it all. Seeing my parents like this is… well, it’s just…’
He took her hand. ‘I can imagine. I want you to know, Frankie…’ He paused, wondering if it was the effect of the good wine and the cosiness of their surroundings where only the orange glow of the fire provided any light now, or if it was something else that was making him bold. ‘I’m here for you. Anything you want to talk through or… if you want a shoulder to cry on… I have broad shoulders.’
Frankie couldn’t help running her eyes over his shoulders, and yes, they were broad and strong. She met his eyes. ‘You really do.’
‘At your disposal.’
‘Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.’
Then they sat back, watching as the flames danced and flickered in the spacious hearth, while the wind howled around outside the window, and snowflakes swirled from the sky dusting the frozen ground.