The Late Blossoming of Frankie Green Read Online Free PDF Page A

unit.
    Only now, when she was alone, with her front door closed, could she remove the bubbly mask she presented to the world. In private, she had as much bounce as damp popcorn.
    Sighing, she squelched her expensive cleanser onto a circle of cotton wool and began to wipe her forehead, eyes, cheeks and chin.
    Her mobile buzzed and she glanced at it, seeing Mam’s name on the screen. She couldn’t face her weekly update from Spain. Sick of the weather, Mam had moved there ten years ago with her second husband Phil and Letty’s half-brother Luke. He was nine years younger than Letty so Mam had decided when he was eleven that he was young enough to adapt to a new life. Letty was invited but Wales was home. Even though Granny had left Spain as a child during the civil war, there was still family out there to help Mam and they lived a cracking life running a restaurant in Almeria. Letty just didn’t want to hear about it now. Or put on a brave face.
    Mam was unaware that Letty was up to her false eyelashes in debt; they thought she was minted because she dressed tidy. That was the problem, she spent her way to happiness when life brought her down.
    Letty didn’t want Mam to think that her daughter, whom she’d brought up alone, was a waste of space. Dad, wherever he was, was responsible for so much of this mess; hardly around when he was with Mam, then not turning up for access and slack on the maintenance. The only memories she had of him were bad, always chopsing on with excuses, he was: just waiting for a cheque to clear or not much work on at the minute.
    Her face now nude, she couldn’t lie to herself anymore: she was exactly the same as him. Full of shit. Why else would she be hanging out with Lance? When all she wanted was to find The One.
    She lobbed the pad, filthy from the day, into the bin. But she still felt dirty at the thought of what she was: a mistress to a man with a girlfriend and a baby. How could she justify it as passing the time?
    But it wasn’t as if she was getting a kick out of it. She’d been miserable. Lonely. Weak.
    She’d joined Lance’s gym in her neighbourhood to better herself, that was the irony. She was done with casual flings, which she’d begin with an open heart only to discover she was regarded as a ‘good time’ and nothing more, Letty thought exercise would be the investment she needed to turn things round. She didn’t actually fancy him at first – he was a walking cliché of sunny blond hair, Pacific ocean blue eyes, diving board cheekbones, plump lips and a golden, muscular body. Girls mobbed him and, to be honest, she expected him to be a tool: most good-looking men were.
    But over three months of personal tuition, she got to know him. He was modest but ambitious, hard-working but easy-going. And he was making her feel good. Fan-bloody-tastic, actually. He was like a life coach, praising her at every sit-up. The more defined her body became, the more she earned his respect for her mental strength. They clicked too: the sessions were a laugh. They shared bits and pieces of their lives way past closing time. His relationship was rocky: feeling neglected by him working such long hours when he built up his gym, his partner had been unfaithful. They’d thought a baby would fix things. It had only been a sticking plaster. On her part, she wanted someone to love her the way she wanted to love someone. Like him.
    She should’ve just cancelled her membership. But one night at the end of hot yoga, when he’d been taut and topless, he’d pushed down on her hips to make her stretch even deeper. The heat between her thighs had overflowed into her soul. She’d wanted to drown in it, submerge herself. In him. Ever since, for two months, they’d been stealing moments together. Anywhere and everywhere. Today, after work, in an art deco lift in a boutique hotel where she’d dragged the metal gates closed and untied