—11—
The Thing About Jane Spring by Sharon Krum
Alamein train line to Flinders Street
‘I think it’s a chest infection. And I also think I’m coming down with conjunctivitis. I feel very snotty, gooey and contagious.’
Frankie was curled up on her couch, flicking through a tattered copy of And the Mountains Echoed, her mobile phone balanced precariously between her shoulder and ear.
‘Yeah, it sounds like you’re coming down with a really bad case of hibernation, Period Girl. Come on, get your arse into work, Rose. It’s been two days. We need to start prepping the store for the Zoë Foster Blake book signing. We’ve been waiting for this one forever!’ Cat was breathing heavily down the other end of the phone. Frankie could just imagine her running down Brunswick Street, pushing past anyone who got in her way as she tried to make it on time to open the store at nine.
‘Cat, you don’t appreciate how humiliating this is for me!’ Frankie threw her book down in frustration. ‘I can’t walk down the street without someone calling out “Free the flow!” I can’t even go on a date without getting recognised as bloody Period Girl. No wonder I haven’t heard a word from Sunny. I definitely scared him away.’ She sighed.
‘It’s been two days, Frank. He’s probably playing hard to get! Now, are you coming in today, or do I have to drag you in here myself?’ Cat asked.
‘One more day, Cat. Please. I’m really not feeling well.’ Frankie coughed halfheartedly into the phone.
‘You suck,’ Cat said.
‘Thank you, thank you, thank you. I owe you one.’ Frankie grabbed a half-eaten Snickers bar she had left lying on the floor the night before, and took a bite. Through the phone, she heard the faint tinkle of the bookstore’s front bell.
‘Oh! Who is it? Let me guess. Seb? Millie? Mum?’ Despite her proclaimed lethargy, Frankie jumped at the chance to be entertained. There was only so much time even she could spend living off old chocolate bars and binge watching Austen mini-series.
‘Nope, nope and nope,’ Cat whispered.
‘Bryan the bubbly? That old woman who only buys erotic fiction? The hipster who’s obsessed with Marian Keyes?’ Frankie said through mouthfuls of chocolate.
‘Guess again,’ Cat purred.
‘Oh! Is it Lizard Man?’
‘Hi there, Cat. Frankie around?’ Frankie heard a man’s voice in the background, and she almost choked on the Snickers. Oh God!
‘Cat! Is that Sunny? That’s Sunny, isn’t it! Tell him I’m sick. Tell him to call me. Actually, don’t; that sounds desperate. Tell him I’m not in. Act cool. But not too cool.’ Frankie shot up from the couch like a jack-in-the-box, her mind running a million miles a minute.
‘Hello, Sunnnny,’ she heard Cat say, her smirk audible from the other side of the city.
‘Cat! Please don’t say anything stupid,’ she begged.
‘So, you’re looking for Period Girl?’ Cat sang to Sunny. ‘I’ll just get off the phone to this annoying customer and then I’ll see what I can do for you, handsome.’
The last thing Frankie heard before Cat hung up was her loud, full-bodied laugh. She threw down her phone and rolled her eyes, praying to God that Cat wouldn’t say anything else embarrassing. Who am I kidding? she thought, sinking back down on the couch. It’s Cat. Of course she will. Frankie pulled up her fluffy grey blanket all the way to her chin. This was a new low, even for her: hiding inside her apartment like a hermit. Her life was officially ridiculous. She couldn’t help but wonder about Sunny, though. Had he swung by the bookstore to officially end things with her? They had only been on one date; a text would have sufficed.
Frankie’s stomach rumbled as if in approbation of being fed only chocolate bars and milk for the past eighteen hours, so she opened up her Uber Eats app and mindlessly scrolled through photos of burgers, sandwiches, noodles, sushi and pho. Her stomach thundered in anticipation as she reached just what she was looking for: Jo’s Pizza – open all day, every day, and ready and willing to deliver a Vegetarian Supreme, two garlic breads and a chocolate mousse direct to her door. Then she flicked on the TV, closed her eyes and dozed off to the soothing hums of static television.
Frankie woke to a loud, monotonous knocking at her door. The thought of pizza immediately made her jump up, toss on a baggy stained jumper and step into her ugg boots. She was tying her knotty hair into a bun on the top of her head as she reached her front door.
‘Hello, my saviour!’ she called as she swung open the door.
‘Why, hello to you too.’ Sunny smiled, giving her scruffy appearance a once-over.
Frankie jerked back in surprise, crossing her arms to cover her bra-less chest. ‘Uh, what are you doing here? How did you get up here?’
‘The front gate was unlocked. I heard you were sick, so I thought I’d drop something off to help you feel a little better.’ He smiled as he held out a paper bag.
‘Oh, uh … oh. Thanks. How did you know my apartment number?’ Frankie quickly retied her hair into a ponytail while slowly dying inside.
‘Cat told me,’ he said, resting his solid arm casually against her doorframe. He was wearing denim shorts and a bright yellow T-shirt which stretched firmly across his chest. He was, as always, droolworthy.
Damn you, Cat! Frankie thought, beginning to devise ways to murder her friend.
‘So, aren’t you going to invite me in?’
‘Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m very contagious.’ Frankie coughed, picturing all the chocolate wrappers, empty mugs and dirty underwear littered across her home.
‘Doesn’t bother me,’ Sunny replied brightly. ‘I have the best immune system in Australia. I haven’t been sick since seventh grade when Kimmy Swanton spat in my mouth when she had glandular fever.’ Sunny tried to walk inside, but Frankie quickly blocked him.
‘That’s disgusting.’
‘I know. So, can I come in?’
Frankie sighed. ‘My apartment is a pigsty. Worse than a pigsty. Pigs would not be caught dead in my apartment right now.’
‘Luckily, I’m not a pig,’ laughed Sunny, pushing his way past Frankie and into her cramped, messy apartment.
Frankie followed nervously. ‘Just sit here. And don’t move.’ She pushed him onto the couch she had just been lying on, and scuttled around, picking up wrappers and discarded lingerie.
‘Seriously, you don’t need to clean up for me. You should see my apartment.’ Sunny kicked off his shoes and settled back onto the couch.
‘Just give me one minute!’ Frankie called back, carrying the pile of rubbish and laundry into her bedroom. She tore off her stained clothes and tossed on a pair of blue jeans and a floral tank. A liberal spray of perfume helped, but there was nothing she could do about the disaster that was her hair, so she rummaged around her top shelf, found a black baseball cap and flung it on.
‘Okay,’ Frankie said, emerging from her room.
‘Okay.’ Sunny smiled cheekily, sitting calmly on her couch.
‘So, what are you doing here again?’ Frankie sat down, leaving a safe gap between them.
‘I told you, I brought you something to help you feel better.’ Sunny held up the small, brown paper bag which had been folded over at the top.
‘Oh, you really didn’t have to do that.’ She tentatively picked up the bag and looked at it curiously. ‘What is it?’
‘Guess.’
‘Chocolate? Cake? A muffin? Please tell me it’s a muffin,’ Frankie said, practically salivating at the thought.
Sunny shook his head, his eyes alight as he watched her peel open the bag.
‘I hope it’s edible, I’m starving,’ she cried as she pulled the lid off the Chinese takeaway container and held it up to her face.
‘What?!’ Frankie exclaimed as she saw the contents of the container and immediately pushed it away.
‘It’s a turtle. Look at the little guy.’ Sunny picked up the tiny green animal by its shell, placing it gently onto his palm. It wriggled slightly to the left, its tiny body only taking up a third of Sunny’s outstretched hand.
‘A turtle? You got me a turtle?’
‘Yeah, isn’t he adorable? Look at that face.’ Sunny stroked its tiny shell with one finger, while Frankie looked on in disbelief. ‘I went to Chao’s last night. You know Chao’s? The best sweet-and-sour chicken on the north side? I was picking up dinner when, what do I see out of the corner of my eye, but a tiny turtle, in a cage! With barely any water to swim in! Everybody knows you can’t keep turtles in a cage. I don’t know what Chao was thinking. I’m telling you, it was like a cruel, turtle-itarian regime in there. Anyway, I asked Chao, “How much for the turtle?” And he told me if I gave him another fiver, I could have it! So, there I was with sweet-and-sour chicken in one hand and a turtle in the other, and I thought, “You know who would love this turtle? Frankston Rose!”’ Sunny rambled on, his face alight with excitement.
‘But Sunny,’ Frankie spluttered, trying not to laugh, ‘you can’t just get someone a turtle. What am I going to do with it?’ I can’t look after a turtle, she thought a little desperately. I can barely look after myself.
‘They’re a piece of cake to look after. I already googled it. It’s a Murray River Short Neck Turtle, so it’s semi-aquatic. I’ve bought the ultraviolet lighting, heating, filtration and tank. They’re in my car, I’ll go down and grab it all now. This little guy needs to go back in water every two hours or so. But we’ll need to buy more food, and calcium supplements. We can go down and get them all from the pet store on Church Street.’
‘Are you being serious right now? You seem strangely knowledgeable about turtles.’
‘As serious as this little turtle right here,’ he replied, tapping his shell.
‘Calcium supplements? A tank? I never asked for a turtle, Sunny! I can’t keep it!’ Frankie blurted, just a touch too loudly.
Sunny said nothing, and neither did Frankie. The word ‘turtle’ pulsated in the air, mocking them as Frankie tried to figure out what on earth was going on, and who on earth this man was. The silence was beginning to stretch when it was broken – thankfully – by another knock at the door.
‘Pizza for Frankie?’ A short man stood in the hallway holding out the big paper bag that she had wanted.
‘Thank you!’ Frankie grabbed it from him as Sunny snuck out the front door. Confused and suddenly – and irrationally – annoyed, she slammed the door and laid the pizza, garlic bread and chocolate mousse on the coffee table. Then, after taking a moment and a deep breath, she tore open the pizza box and took a bite of the warm, cheesy slice. She closed her eyes and inhaled, but before she could take another heavenly bite, there was another knock on the door. Begrudgingly, she got up and peered through the peephole.
She groaned as she swung open the door and watched Sunny lug in large amounts of turtle paraphernalia, including a giant glass aquarium, complete with a mesh lid and lighting. He took one look at Frankie’s bemused expression and, without a word, began to assemble the items in the corner of her living room.
Frankie sighed dramatically and resumed her post on the couch with her pizza.
Four slices later, she felt Sunny’s gaze resting on her. He had finished building the aquarium and was holding up the turtle, who now wore a purple-crocheted knit over its shell. Frankie couldn’t help but laugh.
‘Pretty cute, hey?’ Sunny smiled.
‘Where did you get that?’ Frankie was now openly laughing at the absurdity of a baby turtle wearing a knitted jacket in her living room.
‘I bought it off Claud’s Etsy store. That’s why I popped by the bookstore today.’
‘It’s a turtle wearing a turtleneck! I can’t. Okay, come here. I need to Instagram the shit out of this.’
‘So, we can keep him?’ Sunny moved towards her, waggling his eyebrows comically. Oh, damn you, Sunny Day, Frankie thought as her heart fluttered and her eyes rolled simultaneously at the use of ‘we’. She was still annoyed at this unwanted gift, but how could she possibly say no to a turtle wearing a turtleneck?
‘Fine, I guess he can stay,’ Frankie surrendered, taking out her phone and happily snapping a photo of the turtle curled up in Sunny’s hand.
While Frankie updated her Instagram, Sunny placed the turtle in the tank and sat down next to Frankie. ‘So, this your usual 10am breakfast?’ he said, looking at the greasy feast laid out before them.
‘This isn’t my usual anything.’ Frankie grinned.
‘What about Shellford?’ Frankie suggested. She was folded up on the couch, staring at the turtle swimming in the giant tank, which easily took up a quarter of her living room. Sunny was sitting next to her, his head resting on her shoulder.
‘Nah, too predictable. How about Emily?’ he proposed.
‘Emily? It’s definitely a boy!’
‘How do you know?’
‘Mother’s intuition.’
They had been brainstorming names for the last ten minutes, and were getting nowhere.
‘So, do you buy all the new women in your life a pet turtle?’ Frankie teased.
‘I usually like to stick with something more traditional, like a budgerigar,’ Sunny replied, almost too quickly.
‘So …’ Frankie said after a few moments of silence spent trying not to wonder what he meant, ‘it must be a while since the little guy ate. I’d hate to be accused of neglect.’
‘Shall we visit the pet store now?’ Sunny shot up from the couch.
‘Why not?’ Frankie fought a sudden urge to back away now. Surely this guy is too good to be true? ‘Let me just grab my shoes,’ she said cautiously, her terrible case of hybernating-while-meme-disaster-blows-over-itis slowly lifting.
As she fossicked around in her wardrobe, she couldn’t help but think of the man sitting in her living room. He’s … odd. Very odd. But a nice sort of odd. A stay-forever-young sort of odd. A devilishly handsome, take-me-right-now-in-my-living-room sort of odd. He’s not necessarily someone I would settle down with, but … But Cat was always saying she should have some fun while it lasted. Perhaps I should go with the flow, she decided as she slipped on a pair of leopard-print espadrilles and closed her bedroom door behind her.
‘What are you doing?’ Frankie asked nervously when she saw Sunny standing in front of her bookshelf, holding onto a green book. Please let it be any book but the one I think it is! She dared to tiptoe forward. Yep, the book had ‘Frankie Rose’ embossed along the spine. Fantastic.
‘This is your book? The one you wrote?’ Sunny looked at her in awe.
‘Yes. Please put it down.’ Frankie tried to grab it from Sunny’s hands, but he held onto it tightly.
‘Can I borrow it?’ Sunny asked.
‘No. You wouldn’t like it. It’s not Young Adult.’ Frankie snatched at the book again. Sunny took a step back, the atmosphere shifting around them.
‘I’m happy to venture out of the realms of dystopia and teen fiction for an author like you, Frankie,’ he tried again.
Frankie pursed her lips and scanned her bookshelf, now desperate for a different book to distract him with. A much-loved tattered yellow cover caught her eye.
‘Try this one! It’s my all-time favourite book.’ Frankie pushed a copy of AA Milne’s The Complete Poems of Winnie-the-Pooh into Sunny’s hands.
Sunny eyed the book, which now covered Frankie’s.
‘Yep, it’s my favourite piece of literature. Has been since I was two,’ Frankie shared.
‘I know this whole book by heart,’ Sunny said, suddenly serious. I slept with it under my pillow until I was seventeen.’
Oh.
‘So, yeah. I already have a copy of my favourite book. But thanks. Should we go to the pet store?’ To Frankie’s great relief, Sunny returned her book to the shelf and put Frankie’s hand in his.
‘What on earth is this?’ Frankie picked up the tiny chair balanced on a ledge in front of her.
‘It’s a Chihuahua high chair, so they can eat dinner with you. My sister has one,’ Sunny said.
Sunny and Frankie were wandering the aisles of the giant Pet Barn, past colourful toys and oversized bags of dog food. Fish swam elegantly in tanks stacked high at the back of the shop and the distinct smell of fresh puppies and kittens filled the air.
‘Can I help you with something?’ the pretty shop attendant asked. Her jet black hair fell gracefully to her shoulders and her dark skin glowed. Being surrounded by cute animals all day probably did that to a person.
‘Yes, yes you can. My wife Darlene and I have just bought a delightful little turtle. Our daughter Stephanie has been begging for one and we finally caved. First a golden retriever, then a pony and now a turtle. She really does get everything she wants, that one,’ Sunny finished with a coy smile.
Frankie threw him a surprised look before joining in. ‘Ah yes, my dear husband Derek and I, we just can’t say no to our Stephanie. And what’s one more animal to us? Our mansion is so big it could fit Noah’s ark!’ she said in a terrible, faux-British accent. Sunny squeezed Frankie’s hand, stifling laughter.
‘Ah, okay. So, what do you need for your turtle?’ the girl said, smacking her chewing gum as she spoke.
‘Well, we’d like some food. Your cheapest – but finest – turtle food!’ Sunny exclaimed.
‘Yes, only the best for our precious turtle!’ Frankie said, losing her fake accent.
The assistant looked the pair up and down, quickly turned on her heel and strutted down the aisle. ‘Does he have a name?’ the girl called over her shoulder.
‘Winnie. Named after The Pooh,’ Sunny replied without missing a beat. Frankie and Sunny locked eyes.
‘Oh, that’s nice,’ the girl said in an unamused, monotone voice. She directed them to an aisle near the back of the store and left them to fossick through bags of dried crickets, cockroaches, mealworms, maggots, frozen fish foods, and commercially prepared turtle pellets.
‘Winnie. I like it,’ Frankie said. Sunny winked and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.
‘How should we shell-ebrate?’ Sunny leaned closer towards Frankie, his nose almost grazing hers.
‘That’s terrible.’ Frankie sighed, taking a step forward.
Sunny tilted his head towards her, grazing his finger lightly along her jaw. And then, right there, pressed against the turtle tanks, he pulled her firmly towards him and kissed her. Slowly, passionately, truly. She slid her fingers through his hair, an intoxicating giddiness spinning her round and round.
After a couple of minutes, she pulled away. ‘Where’s Winnie?’ she asked breathlessly.