Beneath The Waves

(13) Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Chapter 13

            The library was still open, so Frankie signed out a few more books, some she’d already checked through but wanted to go through again, just in case. Ryan hovered around her, egging her to hurry up, clearly not as comfortable among the towering, silent book cases as she was.

            They stopped by Frankie’s house to get Tennyson, who bounded about in excitement, one moment leaping up to bat his paws against their knees, the next rolling in the grass, begging them to tickle his fur. Frankie arranged some dinner for him as Ryan began to wander around the house, evidently curious.

After Tennyson had been fed, Frankie hurried up the stairs to find Ryan, who still hadn’t come back down. She found him poking his head in her room.

“This is cool,” he said, as she approached. “Jesus. How many books do you have?”

“There’re more in the cupboard,” she informed him awkwardly, feeling a flush of heat creep up her neck. She knew her room was a bit strange; she had about fifty dream catchers flung about, a pair of curtains hanging on the wall because she’d accidently pulled them off but didn’t want to throw them away, posters of 1960s bands peeling from the walls and books overflowing the shelves. She was also pretty sure she’d left her pajamas scattered on the floor in her rush to get Tennyson out the room before her aunt noticed.

“Nice beanbags,” Ryan commented. He slipped out, shutting the door.

“They’re Tennyson’s,” she said, leading him downstairs, as Tennyson trotted ahead. “But don’t tell my aunt. She thinks he sleeps downstairs.”

Ryan laughed incredulously. “How the hell does she not realise?”

Ryan’s house was only a ten minute walk from Frankie’s, which surprised her more than it should have – especially when she caught sight of it. Moira and Ed’s house was so old that the red bricks, feathering with age, seemed to be crumbling from the dried up cement, but Ryan’s house was new and modern. He opened a freshly painted white door, kicking off his shoes on the smooth honey-coloured wood of the hallway.

“Hi, mum,” he called out casually. He took a step towards the kitchen, then turned and beckoned Frankie along.

Frankie felt a bit unnerved. She hadn’t been invited round to a friend’s house in months, especially not one she’d only known for two weeks, and she always found it a little intimidating meeting strangers. Tennyson strained forward, not bothered at all.

Frankie slipped off her shoes and padded cautiously down the hallway after Ryan, keeping Tennyson’s leash on in case he wasn’t welcome. His nails clicked noisily against the smooth, shiny floor.

She glanced into a clean, modern kitchen to see a tall woman with blonde hair, fading to grey a little at the edges, and soft blue eyes smiling at her warmly.

“That’s Frankie,” Ryan called out casually, from where he’d stuck his head in the fridge. He’d clearly told his mum about their unexpected guest.

Frankie smiled uncertainly. “Hi.”

“Nice to meet you, Frankie,” the woman said warmly. “I’m Nicky, Ryan’s mum.” She caught sight of Tennyson as she opened a cupboard and gasped in delight. “Oh, isn’t he gorgeous.”

Frankie felt her smile warm up as Nicky crouched by Tennyson, petting him as his tail whipped about in a furious black blur. “This is Tennyson,” she explained. “I hope it’s okay that I brought him...”

Nicky waved a hand, batting away Frankie’s timid explanation. “Of course! We’re a dog family.” She scratched Tennyson under the chin, and he let out a happy growl. “Tennyson, did you say?”