The Late Blossoming of Frankie Green by Laura Kemp Page B

black.
    Something cold was soothing her banging forehead when she came to. There was a smell of damp paper towel mixed in with a familiar calming scent. Oh no, it was all coming back to her – it was Simon Brown’s aftershave. She opened her eyes and two faces were peering at her. Sly and Simon Brown, who’d laid his suit jacket under her head. Their faces seemed to have the most enormous features, as though she was seeing them in the back of a spoon. She had dreamed of being close to him again – why did it have to be when she was splayed out and helpless?
    â€˜The ambulance is on its way,’ Sly said, mopping her brow, ‘you fainted, got quite a bang to the head on the table as you went down. There’s a bit of blood but you’re okay, darling, we’re here.’
    â€˜I’ll go with her,’ Simon Brown said to Sly as Em announced she was fine, tried to get up and got as far as lifting her neck before a bolt of pain shot through her temples. Brilliant, this is truly brilliant, she thought to herself, feeling completely humiliated.
    â€˜No running off now, an ambulance is coming,’ Sly said.
    â€˜Is that really necessary?’ Em groaned.
    â€˜Health and safety, health and safety,’ Simon Brown said, smiling, which made her tummy flip all over again.
    Honestly, she thought, disgusted at her body’s betrayal by reacting like that when she was in no fit state.
    â€˜I’m going to be sick,’ she said, which saw Sly fly off for a metal bin and return just in time. This just can’t get any worse, Em thought, as she wiped her mouth on the wet paper towel.
    Two pairs of boots appeared by her head as Simon Brown and Sly moved back to allow the paramedics some space.
    â€˜My name’s Lucy,’ two feet declared. ‘Can you tell me yours?’
    â€˜Emera— Em. I’m fine, I just felt dizzy.’
    â€˜Well, you’ve had a bump to the head and it’d be best all round if you come with us so we can get you checked out.’
    â€˜Really. There’s no need. I just need a lie down.’ In a dark room. After a cold shower. Miles away from Simon Brown.
    â€˜You were unconscious, you feel sleepy and you’ve vomited. We’re on our way back to the hospital so we’ll take you,’ Lucy insisted as her cohort nodded and helped her up.
    There was no point protesting, Em knew, and so she stepped forward but her legs wobbled. Before she could complain, Simon Brown bent down and picked her up, one arm cradling her head and the other under her knees. As he walked towards the door, he looked down at her and said: ‘Sorry, Whitney. Kevin Costner wasn’t available so you’ll have to do with me instead.’
    Lying there floppy, on the edge of unconsciousness, with her face against his chest, she realized all those times when she’d begged a higher being to answer her wish that he’d turn up and carry her off to bed, that she should’ve specified ‘not a hospital trolley’.

Later
Letitia
    â€˜So, what are you having?’ Ross ‘The Boss’ Gittings said as they waited at the bar. He was smaller than Letty but she’d never really noticed: he was one of those charismatic types who seemed larger than life. Or at least his 5 foot 5 inches.
    â€˜Vodka slimline tonic, please,’ Letty said, knowing a large glass of wine on an empty stomach would turn her into a howling drunk within five minutes which was not the image she wanted to project. ‘Shall I get a table?’
    â€˜There’s one at the back,’ he said, pointing with his phone. ‘It’s nice and private.’ Great, she thought, all the better for not being disturbed, so I can dazzle him with my idea. This diversion was exactly what she needed after the inevitable split with Lance last night.
    He hadn’t contacted her last night nor today. It was clearly over – it was a good job she hadn’t