Frankie and Joely

by Nova Weetman

  But it’s not. It’s Joely.

  ‘Joel?’

  Frankie’s so used to her friend being overly dramatic, that hearing Joely tell her what’s happened without any emotion in her voice freaks her out. Frankie grabs everything, tosses it into her bag, and hurries to the old metal gate at the pool entrance. It spins slowly and angrily when she pushes against it. She runs across the road, knowing people are looking because she hasn’t bothered putting on clothes over her bikini, but right now she doesn’t care because Joely needs her.

  Joely can hear Frankie coming before she can even see her. Frankie’s yelling her name. When Joely finally sees Frankie, she waves, her arm hot and sore. Frankie rushes to Joely, her hair wet, her legs long, and the first thing Joely thinks is why hasn’t her friend put clothes on?

  ‘Joel!’ Frankie throws her arms around Joely’s neck, then lets go immediately.

  ‘Sorry, did that hurt? Are you okay?’

  ‘Yes, I’m fine. My head hurts. But I’m fine,’ says Joely, torn between being embarrassed and pleased at all the fuss.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Sunstroke. I think.’

  Frankie bends down and looks at her closely. ‘You’re pretty red, Joel.’

  As if Joely doesn’t already know that. Her whole body feels like it’s on fire. ‘Can you put some clothes on?’ says Joely.

  Frankie nods, reacting obediently to the crankiness in Joely’s voice. ‘Yeah, sure.’

  Joely watches as she pulls out her t-shirt and slips it over her bathers, wondering if she’ll bother with shorts. She doesn’t and Joely’s suddenly too tired to care.

  ‘How are we going to get home? Can I call Jill?’

  Joely hates the idea of asking her aunt to come and pick them up, but she doesn’t actually think she can get to the bus. She can feel her eyes filling with tears.

  ‘It’s okay, Joel. I’ll get you home. It’s okay.’ Frankie pulls her towel out of her bag and starts dabbing at Joely’s eyes. It hurts so much that Joely cries harder.

  ‘Give me your phone and I’ll call Jill.’

  Joely hands it over. As Frankie talks, she keeps one hand on Joely’s shoulder, like she’s afraid Joely will disappear in a puff of smoke.

  ‘She’s coming now,’ says Frankie as she slides down onto the ground.

  They sit together, not talking, until Jill pulls up to take them home.

  Chapter 23

  Joely’s stuck inside her singlet. Her skin screams each time the material touches it. She doesn’t want to move and pull it that last bit.

  Frankie just stands there and watches. ‘Can I help?’

  ‘No,’ shouts Joely.

  ‘You don’t have to yell.’

  ‘It fucking hurts.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘No you don’t. You’ve got olive skin. You have no idea.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ says Frankie. ‘But maybe if I do it, it won’t hurt as much. Just like a bandaid. It’s always better when someone else does it.’

  ‘No it’s not. People say that, but it’s not true. It still hurts,’ yells Joely from inside the singlet.

  ‘Okay. But I can’t watch. It’s too awful,’ says Frankie.

  Desperate for Frankie not to leave, Joely quickly pulls her singlet over her head. She yells as it scrapes across her raw shoulders.

  Frankie leaps forward and touches her comfortingly on the head.

  ‘Is it bad?’ Joely cranes to look at her shoulders, but she can’t see around the back.

  ‘It’s sort of pale pink.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘No. It’s glowing. Like the sun.’

  ‘Shit.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Joely bites her lip.

  ‘Jill’s run a cold bath. I can sit with you in the bathroom. I can read my book to you if you like.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Frankie touches her hair again and it makes Joely feel like a little kid. She wants Frankie to stroke her hair until she falls asleep. Instead, she lets Frankie lead her down the hall to the bathroom.

  ‘You alright?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Frankie nods and leaves.

  Joely doesn’t want to climb into the bath. She’s worried it will hurt even more. As she reaches to unhook her bra, she glimpses herself in the mirror and can’t believe how red she is, like her mum’s face when she used to yell at her dad until Joely thought she’d pop. She touches the skin near her neck, and it’s all rough and bumpy.

  She climbs in slowly, terrified of the water’s touch. It’s so cold, she starts shivering, but her skin is still burning. There are ugly red streaks travelling up and down her limbs, and she can barely move her ankles or her wrists because they are so swollen.

  Outside her cousins are laughing, but she can’t hear what about. Frankie’s probably out there, too. She hates this feeling. Not the pain of the sunburn, but the isolation of being forced into a bath on a Friday afternoon when everyone else is outside laughing. That sucks. She can choose not to join in, and often does, but when she’s forced out because she’s burnt or because she’s not popular enough, then she feels like she did before she met Frankie.

  She wishes she’d said yes to Frankie when she’d offered to stay in the bathroom and read. But she doesn’t want to stare at Frankie’s smooth skin, while blisters percolate on hers.

  There’s a knock on the bathroom door and Joely tenses. It’s bad enough if people see her when she’s dressed, but naked and looking like this is more than she can cope with.

  ‘Who is it?’

  ‘It’s just me, Joely, love. Your mum is on the phone.’ Jill talks quietly through the door.

  ‘Can you just tell her—’ starts Joely.

  ‘No, love. She wants to talk to you, and I can’t bring you the phone because it isn’t cordless. But I did plug in the extension so you can talk to her in your room.’

  ‘Fuck,’ Joely whispers. She pulls herself out of the bath. Her body screams. She can barely stand because of the red seams where her feet join her ankles. She shuffles to the door, grabbing a towel but not quite wrapping it around because she doesn’t want anything touching her.

  Her aunt smiles when she opens the door.

  ‘You look a bit more healthy.’

  ‘Liar,’ says Joely, pleased that her aunt would try to make her feel better.

  ‘You’re not so red,’ her aunt insists.

  ‘You wait until tomorrow. I’ll be one big blister. Did you tell Mum?’ Joely panics at the thought.

  ‘Joely, I’ve been keeping things from your mum since I could talk. I’m not going to start confiding in her now.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Joely’s skin has to be better by the time they go home, otherwise her mum will never let her come again.

  Joely shuffles down the hall to the bedroom. She looks at her bed where the phone sits waiting. She imagines her mum pacing around at home, mobile wedged against her ear, frustrated because she’s had to make an extra call to track down her daughter. Joely wonders what would happen if she just lay down, went to sleep, and didn’t pick up the phone. Would her mum drive here? Would she call the police and send them over? Or would she blame Frankie for leading her astray like she usually does?

  ‘Hi Mum.’

  ‘Joelene! I’ve left nine messages on your mobile,’ says her mum in the voice usually reserved for people at work.

  ‘The battery might be dead.’

  ‘Charge it then.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘What if it was an emergency?’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘No. I’m just calling to see how things are.’

  ‘Fine. Good.’

  ‘Good. If you need more mon
ey …’

  For a second Joely’s tempted to say yes, but says, ‘No, it’s fine’.

  ‘Okay then.’

  ‘Bye Mum.’

  ‘Bye.’

  Joely keeps holding the phone to her ear. She can smell her aunt’s perfume and imagines the conversations that have trickled down the phone into other kitchens in farms nearby. Joely would like one of those conversations with her mum, just once. A conversation that actually means something and isn’t about nothing.

  ‘That’s a good look.’

  Joely looks up. Frankie is smiling from the doorway. Joely hangs up the phone and tries to draw the towel around her flinching each time it touches her skin.

  Frankie plonks down on the bed next to Joely and holds up a tub of cream. ‘Apparently it’s for cows, but it’s meant to be good for sunburn too.’ Frankie unscrews the lid and scoops out a handful. She sniffs the cream. ‘It even smells like a cow, but I like how cows smell.’

  Frankie starts rubbing it gently across Joely’s shoulders. Joely starts crying.

  ‘What did your mum want?’

  Joely snorts. Snot bubbles from her nose. Her face is wet and the salt stings her skin. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Better than something,’ says Frankie.

  Moving around and perching on her knees, Frankie wipes away the tears with her hand. ‘No more crying,’ says Frankie.

  Joely nods, hoping she can stop.

  Then Frankie dabs one line of cream under Joely’s eyes and wipes it across her cheeks, covering the pain.

  ‘There. Now you look like a cow.’

  Joely looks across at the mirror on the bedside table. White patches dot her skin, hiding the red. She sees Frankie watching her and thinks how beautiful her friend is, and how pleased she is that she came back and didn’t go off with Mack and Thommo.

  ‘Moo,’ says Joely, happy she’s stopped crying.

  Frankie laughs.

  ‘I’m going to miss the New Year’s Eve party on Sunday,’ Joely whispers.

  ‘No, you’re not.’

  ‘Yes, I will. My skin will be a hideous mess by then. Blistery and disgusting.’ Joely starts sniffing at the thought.

  Frankie goes to touch her and then stops. ‘I’ll get some makeup from the chemist. Strong stuff like foundation and concealer. And we can hide most of the blisters with a good dress. It’s New Year’s, Joel. You have to come.’

  Under her sore skin, Joely is pleased. She wants to be wanted.

  Frankie kisses Joely on the only part of her shoulder not burnt by the sun. ‘Jill wants me to let you rest. She said you’re probably a bit concussed as well as sunstroked.’

  Joely nods. ‘I forgot about hitting my head. That’s why it hurts so much. I thought it was just the sun.’

  ‘Jill left some Panadol on the dresser. And you have to drink heaps of water!’

  ‘Yes, Mum.’

  Frankie pulls the curtains across. Most of the sun disappears, except for a thin line at the bottom where the curtain doesn’t quite reach.

  ‘What are you going to do now?’ Joely asks, worried that Frankie’s going off without her.

  ‘Lie in the hammock and read my book.’

  Frankie helps Joely into bed like she’s dying and, for a second, Joely thinks maybe she is.

  It’s night when Joely wakes. The room is dark and she can see Frankie lying across from her. Head swimming, Joely sits up, panicked that Rory will be waiting for her by the dead kangaroo. She makes it to the edge of the bed, and then has to stop. Everything hurts. The patches of burnt skin are already tightening on her arms and legs. She doesn’t want Rory seeing her like this. But she doesn’t want him waiting either, wondering where she is. Standing takes effort and she shuffles across to the doorway, her head pounding more with each step. She stops. She can’t.

  Back in bed, she closes her eyes, and tries to think of something other than the kisses she’s missing.

  Chapter 24

  Joely groans as she rolls onto her back. If she lies very still nothing hurts, but if she tries to move, it all throbs.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Frankie says, her face suddenly close.

  Joely shakes her head. ‘No. What time is it?’

  Frankie shrugs. ‘Morning. Tenish? Everyone’s up. Jill told me I wasn’t to wake you, but I was worried you were …’

  ‘What? Dead?’

  Frankie laughs, but it sounds false, and Joely wonders if she really was worried about that.

  ‘Happy New Year’s Eve-Eve day.’ Frankie leans over and kisses Joely on the cheek. Even that hurts.

  ‘Yes. Awesome.’

  ‘It is a bit. We’ve never spent New Year’s together.’

  ‘And we probably won’t tomorrow night either. Unless you want to go to a party with a lobster!’

  Frankie laughs. ‘I’ve written a list of all the stuff I reckon we need to get you looking a bit more normal.’

  Joely can’t help but smile at the size of the list Frankie is holding up. ‘Am I that bad?’

  It might be the only time that Joely’s been happy to see Frankie shrug, even though she knows the night has not been kind to her. Today her skin might not be so red, but the blisters have started forming, and it will take days before they settle down. Then the peeling will start.

  ‘I need to go to the toilet.’

  ‘Come on, then,’ says Frankie, holding out her hands.

  Joely slowly pulls her body up, trying not to cry out as the skin on her knees is pulled so tight she wishes it would just split open. Frankie helps her, taking her hands and pulling her up so that she’s standing on the softly carpeted floor. She shuffles along, imagining how she must look.

  In the bathroom, she avoids the mirror, closing her eyes as she washes her hands, and then lets Frankie lead her back to bed.

  ‘Why’d you stay in the sun, Joel?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘It’s not like you. You’re usually so …’

  ‘Careful?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Joely wants to just start talking and tell her everything. She wants to explain how tired she is of being careful. How she wants to take risks. She wants to tell her about Rory, about waiting and about fainting. But then what if Frankie likes him too? What if Frankie will be hurt because he chose Joely instead?

  ‘Maybe it was sunstroke,’ says Joely. And then she shrugs, testing out her friend’s response. It feels good. Now she knows why Frankie does it so often. You don’t have to commit to anything.

  ‘Thought it would be better if I went and bought everything today instead of leaving it until tomorrow. That way we can spend most of tomorrow getting ready for the party. What do you think?’

  ‘Okay, I guess,’ says Joely, dreading the idea of going to the party looking like this.

  ‘It’ll be fine. I promise. I’ll go into town now,’ says Frankie. ‘But I need—’

  ‘How much?’ It’s strange how talking about money with Frankie makes Joely feel like she’s dealing with her child, not her friend. She shakes off the thought. Of course Frankie shouldn’t have to pay for her makeup.

  ‘Maybe a hundred? Depending how much everything costs here,’ says Frankie.

  It’s more than Joely thought it would be. That much money can’t be easily explained. Even though her mum never minds giving it to her she’d have to make something up. Joely hands over the last of her money.

  Frankie starts to leave and then dashes back, planting a light kiss on Joely’s cheek, managing to miss all the blisters. It’s a fleeting farewell, just like the one her dad gave her the night he moved out.

  ‘See ya in a bit,’ Frankie says, disappearing out the door.

  Joely watches her friend go and wonders for a second if she’ll ever see her again.

  Chapter 25

  The op shop
is empty except for Frankie and the woman serving who Frankie’s decided is about eighty. The woman’s sitting on a stool behind the counter knitting something with lurid orange wool, and doesn’t seem fussed that Frankie’s there. It’s a tiny op shop, but it’s packed so tight, it takes Frankie ages to scour every rack and drawer and display. Frankie has that feeling she gets when she’s found a particularly good op shop. She can’t believe her luck. She keeps expecting someone to rush in and take all the good stuff before she’s had a chance to find it.

  Frankie grabs a scarf for her mum because she’s always complaining about being cold. She probably should stop now, but she can’t. There are just too many treasures hiding. She’s already picked out four tops, two dresses, a novel she’s been wanting to read for ages, a jumper that’s real wool, a pair of sunglasses and a tea-cosy she’ll buy as a present for Jill. One of the dresses is perfect for Joely to wear to the party. It will cover most of her really burnt parts, and the material’s soft so it shouldn’t hurt her skin.

  She hopes Joely won’t be cross that she came without her, but the chemist didn’t open ’til eleven, so she had time to kill and they could always come back another day.

  She sees another rack she hasn’t even gone through yet. It seems crazy looking at winter coats when it’s forty degrees outside, but as she reaches for the long, dark green leather coat complete with a belt, she knows she’ll buy it because it’s just so beautiful. Even the label is in gorgeous cursive writing: Sophisticate – Made in UK. The leather is so soft she just wants to wrap herself up in it. She wonders who donated it. In the city it would never be given away. Or, if it were, it would cost a fortune.

  ‘Scuse me, can I try these on?’ says Frankie to the woman.

  ‘Sure, love. Out back. Through the curtain.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  She pushes her way through the curtain into the area marked Private! Keep out. There’s a little kitchen and a sink and an open tin of biscuits. She ducks into the closet changing room and strips off to try on one dress. It’s not quite right. Too big on her shoulders and too long, but she can fix it and make it look okay. Besides, the fabric is black swirly velvet that is probably quite old, so she’s sure she can do something with it even if she cuts it up and makes a top out of it.