Frankie and Joely by Nova Weetman Page A

thousand miles away from anything, and she’s surprised at how nice it feels.
    â€˜So how is your mum? Really?’ says Jill.
    Frankie listens as Joely pauses for a really long time before saying, ‘I don’t know’.
    It was exactly the same answer she’d give if someone asked her. Perhaps, Frankie thinks, it’s always the same answer because nobody really knows anybody else. It’s always a bit of a mystery.
    â€˜She rang to say I had to feed you lots of salad. And not potato salad, but leafy salad,’ says Jill, sounding like she wants to laugh.
    â€˜Great,’ says Joely. ‘Leaves are my thing. I’m a regular koala.’
    Frankie smiles at her friend’s sarcastic tone and wonders why Joely’s mum is so weird about food. If somebody was feeding Frankie, her mum wouldn’t care less. As long as she ate it and didn’t come home hungry.
    Jill pulls the car off the road. ‘See you later, girls. Have a swim for me.’
    As Frankie starts to get out of the car, Jill adds, ‘Oh and if you see those boys of mine send them home. Ged has a list of jobs for them. Just because it’s school holidays doesn’t mean they can slack off at the pool.’ Jill tries to lighten it with a laugh, but Frankie can’t help but wonder if she wants them home because she doesn’t want them spending the day with her.
    Frankie is surprised to see Joely lean over and give her aunt a kiss on the cheek. Joely seems much happier than when she kissed her mum goodbye at the train station.
    Climbing out of the car, Frankie looks at the pool. It’s a box of blue water, surrounded by green grass and so many bodies; half the town must be there. There are kids screaming as they bomb into the water, splashing it everywhere and a mother yells at her child to get out of the deep end. Frankie wonders how they’ve managed to keep the grass so green. Perhaps all the pool water that gets splashed out keeps it bright.
    Jill toots as she drives off and Frankie follows Joely towards the entrance. The smell of chlorine is strong even from out here. A guy is leaning back on a stool, texting when they walk past. He doesn’t look up. ‘Four twenty for a swim.’
    Joely hands him a ten-dollar note and Frankie lets Joely pay for her.
    â€˜Your change,’ he says, finally looking up. He looks straight at Frankie.
    Joely sees him watching her friend with her long brown hair hanging straight, and her sunglasses covering half her face and she’s pleased. She’s never been noticed here on her own before. With Frankie she feels special because she’s with the girl the boys stare at.
    She grabs Frankie by the arm and pulls her through the turnstile onto the steamy, chipped concrete. Joely can’t remember the pool being this sunny, but she hasn’t been here for a while. Last year the pool was closed because of some council battle that was going on, and the year before that she hadn’t been able to swim because her wrist was in a cast. Now she looks around, her heart racing, sweat running down her back. Her mouth is really dry, like the air is sucking the water out of her whole body. ‘There’s no shade,’ says Joely scanning the grass for a spot. ‘This is a bad idea.’
    â€˜It’s tiny,’ says Frankie.
    Joely’s too busy trying to find cover to answer Frankie.
    â€˜Joel,’ Frankie elbows her. ‘It’s tiny,’ she says again, looking stunned at the size of the pool.
    â€˜Yes. I told you. It’s a country pool.’
    â€˜There’s more grass than water,’ Frankie says. Laughing, she walks to an empty rectangle and drops her stuff.
    â€˜Don’t be a snob,’ says Joely.
    â€˜I’m not. But technically this is more like a spa than a pool.’
    â€˜The locals call it a pool.’
    â€˜They probably call the main street a shopping strip, too.’
    Joely looks at Frankie