August (part 4)

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Frankie was genuinely grateful that Harry was there, but she was nervous that him being there would mean he was missing time writing on his album.

"It won't make a difference in the process, I promise. The album doesn't have a deadline. And right now, I need to be here with you. You just lost your dad, Frankie." Harry stroked her cheek and gave her a little smile.

Frankie still felt raw hearing people talk about her dad as gone, dead, deceased. It stung every time she came down the stairs, and she couldn't hear him laugh somewhere in the house. His slippers were still standing by his chair in the sitting room, and his coat hung on the rack next to the door. His favourite beer stood chilled in the fridge, next to his breakfast that he never got to eat.

She made a checklist to arrange the funeral and give dad his last sendoff. The first thing to check off was getting a suit down to the funeral home for dad. Mum had picked out his nicest suit and was going through his shirts, when Frankie suggested he wear his Manchester United shirt under the suit. Mum looked at her like she had suggested dressing dad in a clown costume.

"He loved that shirt, mum. And where he's going there is no official dress-code, is there?" Frankie felt like a spiteful teenager speaking to her mum like that, but she just wanted her dad to be sent off the way he would have appreciated. Her mum's lips were almost a straight line in her face, clearly she was not approving of the idea, but she was considering it. Frankie raised her eyebrow at her mum, almost like a stand off. Mum groaned and nodded, and put dad's favorite Manchester United shirt with the outfit.

The funeral was set for five days later, and the next thing on Frankie's checklist was to post an obituary in Wigan Today, the local newspaper. That was how they would make sure that people knew the time and place of dad's funeral. She sent the text they wanted to the paper to post, and then she arranged the wake, which would be at dad's favourite pub. The publican was more than willing to open the doors to the pub, and serve both pints, tea, coffee and sandwiches to the mourning guests. A lot of the pub regulars were dad's closest friends, and they would all be attending the funeral. They had pitched in to help cover some of the expenses of the wake, which was very touching. Dad had good friends, and she knew he would be missed by them. 

The third task to take care of was, what to wear for dad's funeral. She agreed with her mum that they would wear black dresses, black tights and black shoes. Mum wanted it to be classic and beautiful, and Frankie figured she needed to honor her mum's wishes since she won the battle of the Man U shirt. 

"I'm down to this last outfit in my bag," Frankie stepped out in a pair of worn-out jeans and a hoodie with Garfield on it. "I'm not sure this is a proper funeral outfit." 

Harry chuckled at her, and held his hands out for her, pulling her into his embrace. He kissed her softly, and held her at an arm's length. 

"Nah, I think we need to go to Manchester and find something proper for us to wear." He got his keys and led the way to the car. 

They drove to Manchester and found a shopping centre, where they could find outfits. Harry wore a cap and sunglasses, trying his best to remain undercover as long as possible. There were a lot of people in the shopping centre, and Frankie knew they would have to be fast before too many people recognized him. They found a dress for Frankie after they had found a suit for Harry. Frankie brought Harry into the fitting room, so he could help determine if the dress was right for the occasion. She had picked a black dress with three-quarter sleeves, a boat neckline, loose fit, coming down to her knees. She dressed down to her underwear, and caught Harry's eyes in the mirror, cocking an eyebrow at him. He grinned shyly and looked away, as if he had been caught doing something he wasn't allowed to. She smirked to herself and pulled the dress over her head. It fell perfectly around her hips, chest and shoulders. The neckline was perfect, showing off her collar bones. Frankie had to do a double take. Collar bones? She put her hand up and traced the bones. They were normally less visible, which could only mean, she had lost some weight, like her mum had said in the hospital. 

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