Never Can Say Goodbye Page 8

  ‘I know what I want.’ The old man crossed the shop and beamed toothlessly at her. ‘I’ve already found it.’

  ‘Oh, good,’ Frankie said, trying hard not to laugh.

  Well, she’d wanted customers, hadn’t she? Who was she to be picky about their predilections? And anyway, her friend Clemmie’s best friend, YaYa, was in a drag act and had promised to bring all his, er, her fellow drag queens to buy outfits from Francesca’s Fabulous Frocks. One more – even if he was ancient – really wouldn’t make any difference.

  ‘Lovely,’ Frankie said cheerfully, turning away and opening the door again. ‘Well, make sure you get here nice and early so that no one else buys it.’

  ‘Ah, duck. I’ll do that. Sorry again for making you jump. Thank you.’

  The fog swirled into the shop in a cold, steel-grey all-enveloping blanket.

  ‘Mind how you go – oh, you’ve already gone.’

  Frankie stared out at the marketplace. The elderly man had, like the few shoppers remaining on this bleak afternoon, been enveloped in the thickly churning mist. Frankie hoped he didn’t have far to go. It was a really nasty night.

  Still smiling to herself, she carefully locked the door, turned up the radio and started pricing.

  *

  ‘Oooh no – don’t make me laugh!’ Lilly giggled later that evening as, perched on Frankie’s much-flounced pink and purple bed, in Frankie’s much-flounced pink and purple bedroom, she waved her mascara wand away from her false eyelashes. ‘I’ll have me eye out!’

  ‘It wasn’t funny,’ Frankie muttered, struggling wearily into her flower-sprigged Cath Kidston pyjamas. ‘I wasn’t laughing. He scared me to death to start with.’

  ‘I bet,’ Lilly chuckled, surveying her eye make-up in the mirror. ‘Typical of you, though. Your very first customer turns out to be an ancient Eddie Izzard.’

  ‘I know. But he was really sweet, and very polite and seemed embarrassed about being there when he shouldn’t have been.’ Frankie yawned and stretched. ‘I do hope he does come back in the morning. If he’s found a dress he wants it would be such a shame if he didn’t get it.’

  ‘Yeah, I suppose it would. And you –’ Lilly stood up as she added lip gloss ‘– should be more security conscious. Fancy leaving the door unlocked. Jennifer says—’

  ‘I’d only popped across the square to Dexter’s with a cup of coffee. It didn’t occur to me that anyone would wander in.’

  ‘Well, it should have done.’ Lilly twirled round under the multiple ropes of rose and lilac twinkling lights that bedecked Frankie’s boudoir bedroom. ‘You were lucky it was only an old gentlemanly cross-dresser. It could have been a horde of hoodies. You could have lost all your stock and had the whole place trashed into the bargain.’

  ‘Don’t.’ Frankie shuddered, as she snuggled underneath the soft downiness of her multi-frilled deep purple satin duvet. ‘Oh, goodness, I’m totally shattered. Please, please, don’t let me oversleep in the morning. We’ll need to be at the shop by half past seven. If my alarm clocks and phone don’t go off you’ll wake me up, won’t you?’

  ‘If I’m home in the morning.’ Lilly was wide-eyed. ‘I’ve got a hot date.’

  ‘Oh Lord – have you? But it’s way past eleven o’clock.’ Frankie peered sleepily at Lilly, in her skinniest jeans, her skimpiest top and her highest heels. ‘I suppose I should have noticed you weren’t getting ready for bed. Where are you going?’

  ‘The Rinky-Dink. It doesn’t get started much before midnight.’

  ‘No, I don’t suppose it does. Well, take care driving in this fog, and have a nice time. I just wish I had your stamina.’

  Lilly wrinkled her nose. ‘You poor old thing. It must be awful to be nearly thirty.’

  ‘You’re not that far off,’ Frankie said drowsily, sinking her head into the softness of her pillows. ‘Ah, bliss. So, who’s tonight’s lucky man? Do I know him?’

  ‘Course you do,’ Lilly giggled. ‘It’s Dexter.’

  Chapter Eight

  And, of course, Frankie thought the next morning, it really didn’t matter at all. Lilly and Dexter: both flirty and flighty and game for a laugh. Neither of them looking for love or pretending to be looking for commitment – or probably even able to spell it – what could be better?

  It wasn’t as if she was even vaguely interested in Dexter herself, was it? Or he in her? And he’d proved, not only with his rapid dating of Lilly, but also with his “home delivery specials” that he was exactly what she’d known he would be: an irrepressible, irresistible, irredeemable womaniser.

  So, on that basis, for her self-esteem and her sanity – not to mention keeping her now-mended heart intact – it was much better that they were just friends. And therefore, she thought as she prowled round, nervously checking and rechecking the interior of Francesca’s Fabulous Frocks, it didn’t matter in the slightest that Dexter had asked Lilly out and not her, did it?

  No, of course it didn’t … And even if he’d asked her she wouldn’t have gone anyway, would she? No of course she wouldn’t – well, probably not …

  Pushing the Everywoman/Lilly/Dexter combinations out of her mind for the time being, Frankie checked her mental tick-list as she walked round the shop. Every inch was gleaming. The frocks were hanging neatly on their rails, and all had price tags attached. Next, the lights – spots and dimmers, uplighters and downlighters – and the stereo system. All fine. Michael Bublé smooched softly into every corner of the shop, and the perfume diffusers filled the room with billows of summer meadow fragrance.

  OK. Frankie stood back and took a deep breath. Everything was perfect. It was nearly eight o’clock. Everything was ready. But was she?

  She checked herself again in one of the long cheval mirrors. Never totally happy with her appearance, she’d made a special effort for this morning. It was OK. The cobalt-blue 1970s skating-style frock looked fine. And the dark-blue tights and high boots made her long legs look even longer. Did she look like the owner of a frock shop? Frankie giggled to herself. Probably not. She certainly didn’t feel like one.

  She’d beaten both the alarm clocks and her phone and been up well before six to get ready. And yes, she’d sneaked a quick look into Lilly’s bedroom before leaving the house. Just to make sure that Lilly had got home safely. Not, of course, to see if Dexter was there too. Perish the thought.

  And Lilly, alone in her minimalist pewter-framed bed, had peered bug-eyed over the edge of the white duvet and said she’d be up in a minute before promptly falling asleep again.

  So … in half an hour Frankie would be opening Francesca’s Fabulous Frocks for business for the very first time. It was exciting and terrifying all at the same time.

  She’d emailed details and photos of the refurbed shop to Rita and Ray and received ecstatic replies and a huge Greek good luck card. And her friends had promised to be there to help out by nine. All that was left to do now was wait and see if any customers actually turned up on this cold, grey, foggy morning.

  ‘Hi.’ Dexter, managing to look very fit in jeans and boots and a navy sweater under the leather jacket, despite also wearing a grubby money apron and fingerless mittens, pushed the door open. ‘Good morning, happy opening day, you look beautiful – and I’ve brought you these.’

  ‘Oh, wow.’ Frankie took the massive bouquet of exotic rainbow flowers. ‘Thank you so much. They’re fabulous. Are they from Ray’s, er, yours?’

  ‘No.’ Dexter looked hurt. ‘That would be a cheap gift, don’t you reckon? I haven’t got anything like these. I ordered them specially in Winterbrook and picked them up just now.’

  ‘Oh – I mean, that’s really kind of you.’ Frankie was a bit thrown. She’d rarely had flowers from anyone. And these were stunning. And Dexter had made a special effort to get them for her – even though merely hours before he’d been out with Lilly, and presumably previous to that, with the pretty blonde in the camel coat. ‘Honestly – thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome. Y
ou deserve them. And I brought this too. I didn’t know if you’d arranged any sort of refreshments.’

  Frankie blinked at the magnum of Krug. ‘Blimey – no. I thought food was a bit of a no-no in case it got on the frocks, so I only got some cheap fizz and orange juice, nothing as fabulous as this. It’s very generous of you.’

  Dexter grinned. ‘No problem. You can give the fizz to the browsers and the real stuff to the buyers. Or, better still, keep it for friends when today’s over. I’ll put it in the fridge, shall I? Oh, and have you got a vase in the kitchen? I thought the flowers’d look nice on the counter. Yet another splash of colour.’ He gazed round the shop. ‘This is truly incredible. Amazing. You’ve worked so hard.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Frankie tried not to stare too obviously at Dexter to see if he showed any traces of being out clubbing until the small hours. He looked, she thought, stunningly sexy, annoyingly bright-eyed and wide awake, and definitely not debauched in any way. ‘And yes, Rita had some vases under the sink. I think they’re still there.’

  He took the flowers and champagne and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Frankie watched him go, and sighed. He was lovely. But then, Joseph had been too, hadn’t he? At least until the awful ending. And after Joseph she’d sworn there’d never be anyone else. And anyway, she’d already decided Dexter was clearly the worse kind of heartbreaking womaniser, wasn’t he? Dexter was, she decided, best avoided in any sort of silly way at all.

  Eight twenty. Still no sign of Lilly or the others. Maybe she should throw caution to the winds – or rather the icy clammy fog – and fasten the door back to welcome in the hordes of eager shoppers.

  No, maybe that would rocket the heating bills sky-high and bankrupt her before she’d even started trading. She’d just have to hope that people would notice the windows and the lights and have seen the posters and the flyers and be curious enough to push the door open and step inside.

  Once inside, Frankie was sure, no one would be able to resist.

  ‘There you go.’ Dexter plonked the huge vase of flowers on the edge of the counter. ‘They look really nice there, don’t they? Mind you –’ he stroked the petals ‘– I haven’t got a clue what they are. Obviously haven’t got that far in my I-Spy Flowers book. I’m quite good on holly and mistletoe now though, and I know what a winter begonia is too.’

  ‘Congratulations.’ Frankie laughed. ‘It sounds like you’ve made a good start. Um, and did you have a good time last night?’ She groaned. She honestly hadn’t meant to say anything.

  ‘Last night? With my home deliveries?’

  ‘No, well, yes – I meant after that really.’

  ‘Oh, you mean at that Rinky-Dink place? Yeah, great thanks. It was a bit of an eye-opener. I didn’t realise it was a drag venue until we got there. I spent most of the night trying to work out who was who.’

  The pungent hothouse perfume from the flowers was happily mingling with the sweet meadow scent from the diffusers. Michael Bublé was poignantly telling everyone he wanted to go home.

  ‘Lilly often goes there.’ Frankie wiped away imaginary dust from the counter and didn’t look at Dexter. ‘She loves it.’

  ‘So she said. She’s a funny girl – great company.’ Dexter nodded. ‘It was good to get out of the lonely bedsit and see a bit of local nightlife, to be honest.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Frankie looked for even more grime on the spotless counter. ‘It must have been. Did you meet YaYa Bordello? She’s a good friend of ours and the Rinky-Dink is one of her regular venues.’

  ‘Yeah. What a character! And so glamorous. She introduced me to her friends, um, Cinnamon and Campari and Foxy – oh, and someone called Midnight who had to be female, but apparently isn’t, and isn’t even gay and is married with kids and drives a bus.’

  Frankie laughed. ‘The Rinky-Dink isn’t to everyone’s taste, but it sounds like you enjoyed it.’

  Dexter nodded. ‘I did. It was really kind of Lilly to ask me.’

  ‘She asked you?’

  ‘Yes. She had a couple of free tickets given to her at the beauty salon. She said there was no point asking you because you’d be too knackered to go because of this place, and everyone else she knows is boringly settled down with husbands, lovers and/or babies to go out on the spur of the moment, so she asked me.’

  Frankie suddenly inexplicably wanted to turn a celebratory cartwheel. ‘Um, yes, that was nice of her. So, er, are you seeing her again?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  The cartwheel feeling rapidly collapsed like a bad soufflé.

  ‘In –’ Dexter looked at his watch ‘– about two minutes if she turns up to help you as she’s promised.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ Frankie tried not to beam. ‘Well, seeing the state she was in when I left this morning I’m not counting on it.’

  ‘Nor me. I drove, stayed sober, and Lilly attacked the Woo Woos big time. She was asleep long before we got back to your place. I practically had to shovel her up your path and through the front door.’

  Frankie laughed and hoped she looked simply amused and not relieved.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Dexter said. ‘And another thing, while we’re on the subject of cross-dressing. She told me about your unexpected visitor yesterday.’

  ‘Did she?’ Frankie said cheerfully. ‘Well, in hindsight it was really funny, but at the time I was a bit startled.’

  ‘You should have shouted for me.’

  ‘If it had been a six-foot bloke in a balaclava wielding a baseball bat, don’t worry, I’d have been over to you like a shot. But he was a real sweetie. I do hope he turns up this morning to buy whichever dress he’d set his heart on.’

  Dexter shook his head. ‘It was never this exciting in Oxford. And to think Ray told me Kingston Dapple was a sleepy little backwater where nothing ever happened.’

  ‘Even sleepy little backwaters must have their – um – oddities.’

  Dexter nodded. ‘And as far as I can see, most of them have already turned up in here – present company excepted, of course.’ He laughed and shielded himself from her mock punch. ‘I suppose I’d better go and open up. I’ll tell all my customers to pop in here and buy a party frock, and if anyone asks about these flowers, please reciprocate and lie and say they came from my shack and point people across the square.’

  ‘Of course. And thank you again.’

  ‘Good luck.’ Dexter suddenly leaned across and kissed her cheek. ‘But you’ll be fine. We’ll catch up later, OK?’

  ‘OK,’ Frankie said quietly, trying not to let her fingers stray to her cheek as he left the shop.

  ‘Hiya, and sorry I’m late. You should have woken me.’ Lilly, dressed in the trademark skinny jeans and a fondant pink T-shirt and yellow boots, clattered through the door.

  ‘I did. You went straight back to sleep.’

  ‘I don’t remember that. And it took me ages to find somewhere to park and I’m probably still well over the limit so I shouldn’t have even driven. We could have shared a car if you’d woken me. And was that Dexter who just left?’

  ‘Short-term memory loss already? So sad at your age,’ Frankie teased. ‘As far as I know you only parted company about three hours ago.’

  ‘Oooh, don’t.’ Lilly staggered behind the counter. ‘Hangover from hell. We had a good time, I think. He’s such a flirt though. He really fancied Midnight. Was sooo gutted that she was actually a straight man. Think it almost turned him celibate.’

  ‘That I doubt.’

  ‘Mmm, me too.’

  ‘It was really, really kind of you to ask him out with your free tickets.’

  ‘He told you?’ Lilly squinted. ‘And is that sarcasm? Don’t try to be clever. I’m too muzzy-headed to be clever.’

  ‘OK.’ Frankie shrugged. ‘Why did you ask him out?’

  ‘Why do you think? Because he’s scorching hot. You don’t mind do you?’

  ‘No, why should I?’

  ‘That’s OK then. Because you’re right about him. He’
s definitely a player. He was amazing to be with, but, well, for as much time as I can remember before the Woo Woos kicked in, he was aware of every other woman – and man, before he realised his mistake – in the club and giving them the benefit of the Valentine charm.’

  ‘Always looking for the next good thing?’

  ‘Yeah. Dexter is a fab guy, just not a settler. Any woman who goes out with Dexter would just be one of many. Which is OK as long as you know. Oooh, those flowers are lovely.’ Lilly staggered along the counter and buried her face in the bouquet. ‘Wow. Fabulous. Did you –?’

  ‘No, Dexter did.’

  ‘Cool. See, told you he fancied you.’ Lilly pouted. ‘Now I wish I hadn’t just said all that other stuff. Sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. I’d already worked it out for myself. I’ve seen him in action with his customers, and I still think he left Oxford because of a woman.’

  ‘Or thirty.’ Lilly nodded. ‘Ouch. Remind me not to move my head. It hurts.’

  ‘So, you didn’t manage to find out why he had to leave Oxford? Or what he’s done in the past or how come he owns a mega-expensive car or anything?’

  ‘No. Trust me, I tried to do a Jeremy Kyle on him. I asked all the questions, but he wasn’t telling. He just clammed up. Maybe it’s just really boring – like he split with his girlfriend and she kicked him out of their shared flat, and he got made redundant from whatever job he had but they let him buy his company car really cheap, all at the same time, so Ray’s invite to come and sort himself out in Kingston Dapple came at just the right time and was his only answer to being homeless and jobless. Maybe he just wants it to all seem mysterious, because Ray gave him a real bad-boy build-up, and he’s embarrassed that it isn’t.’

  Frankie laughed. ‘That’s pretty profound coming from you considering the state you’re in.’

  ‘It is, isn’t it?’ Lilly looked pleased. ‘Now, if you want me to do any work at all today, I’m just going to drown myself in black coffee and take paracetamol and please don’t shout at me for at least an hour.’

  Chapter Nine