Beneath The Waves

(21) God's Heaven and Hell

Chapter 21

Frankie was sick of hospitals. She was sick of the blank white walls, sick of the nurses, both cheery and unenthusiastic, sick of endless questions - how are you feeling? Are you in pain? Are there any relatives we can call for you? - sick of the bland food and mud-like coffee. But mostly, she was just sick of the pain she felt, every time she stepped into one.

At last, bored, hungry, dressed in spare scrubs the hospital had provided for her but all fixed up, Frankie was discharged. The doctor who had stitched up her arm gave her another one of the friendly smiles that she was starting to get tired of.

"Are you sure you don't want to wait for your aunt to pick you up, love? She said on the phone she'd be perfectly happy to, if you didn't mind waiting-"

Frankie was already shaking her head. She could imagine that Aunt Moira definitely would mind having her meeting cut short. "It's okay. I don't live far."

The doctor looked unsure. "You're sure there's no one else to pick you up?"

"I'm sure." Frankie knew she'd get some strange looks on the train home, but she could handle that. She just wanted to go home, curl up in bed with a mug of hot chocolate, and lose herself in a good book. That, or sleep for a million years.

Before she left, she headed to Mike's ward, poking her head into his room.

"Surprise," she called out to his still form. "You wouldn't believe the day I've had so far." She glanced at the clock on the wall. "And it's not even four o' clock."

Frankie didn't stay with Mike for long - the pain killers were starting to make her brain fuzzy with tiredness. She rambled a little about school and Tennyson's antics, then slipped away before the nurse who entered could make conversation with her.

She found her phone in the pocket of her damp jeans. The screen flickered feebly for a second before fading to black, which was irritating, but she'd remembered to wedge a five pound note into the phone cover earlier that week. It was a little soggy, but it would buy her a trip home.
It had started raining again, and Frankie was freezing cold and soaking wet by the time she'd walked home from the train station. The icy droplets tumbling from the sky dampened her mood, made her feel fed-up and miserable, and when she tried the door and realised she was locked out, it suddenly all seemed like too much. Her head fell against the door and she closed her eyes as a sob rattled through her chest. Back home, with her old family, she would never have been locked out. There was always someone home, the lights were always on, illuminating the house with warmth, and there were always smiles for her. Not here. All she had here was a cold, empty house that she couldn't even get into.

Pulling away from the door and wiping her eyes with her sleeve, she turned and began to walk through the rain to the only other place she could think of.
***
Ryan was on the phone with Melanie. She wasn't in a good mood.

"Can you believe that?" she snapped, her voice hard and brittle. "He walked out on us! And now mum's freaking out, she's storming round the house and crying..."

Most of the time, Ryan was a good listener, but he couldn't seemed to stay focused today. He stroked Tennyson's head as the dog stretched lazily across his lap, and stared out at the ebony black rainclouds, so dark it seemed as though it was night, even though it was barely evening yet. "Mmm."

Melanie made a disgusted noise. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Yeah, I am," Ryan said hastily. "Sorry about your dad."

Melanie gave a bitter laugh. "Could you at least try to sound like you care?"

"I do care," Ryan protested. He hated it when Melanie went into one of these moods - usually because of her dad - snapping at everyone and picking fights over tiny things. Usually, though, he was a little better at handling them.