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THE CARAVAN—TATE’S HOLIDAY PARK

AUGUST 22, 2010, 7 P.M.

Frankie’s BBQ tonight. Told Jake about the invite. How, in spite of everything, I feel I owe her this last night, after spending the whole summer there. Like closure or something. Then I never have to see her again.

He was like: personally I’d tell her to do one. Don’t feel like you owe her anything. Then he shrugged. But hey, if it’s important we could go for a bit? Then he grinned. And I guess I’ve always kind of wanted to see behind those gates. How the other half live.

Bit worried about bringing Jake (but definitely don’t want to go without him). Can’t help thinking about what Frankie said. About his accent, his “common” silver neck chain, etc. Is she going to mock him? Will I be embarrassed by him? Will it make me like him less? Urgh. I know this sounds super shallow. But that’s what a diary’s for, right?

Also, half an hour ago I came out of the shower block and Cora was standing there. Gave me such a shock I dropped my shampoo. She looked kind of rough. She went: hey. I’ve been looking for you. Can we talk? I thought she might be about to confront me, about how I saw her in Grandfa’s study. But she just said: I really liked hanging out with you guys, you know? I can’t tell you how much I loved that. Just chatting away about stupid stuff, not a care in the world. I don’t get to do that sort of thing ever. It was so great, wasn’t it?

I said yeah, even though it wasn’t always so great for me.

She went: and I need that cleaning job. There aren’t so many to go around down here. Girls like us, we don’t normally get a break. I think she meant me, like we’re in the same boat. Then she said: I texted and wrote and stuff but I don’t know if Frankie got them. Could you have a word? Cause it was you, wasn’t it? In the woods? Shit. She did see me then.

She said: you know it wasn’t anything, right? I would never. But I’ve been trying to get ahead with my art. Frankie said she’d talked to him, but then... She shrugged. So I thought I’d ask myself. And I guess old blokes like that, they think they can, you know, touch you—the arm, back, bum. But it was nothing more than that. I swear. You know that right?

I nodded, even though I don’t know if I do. But the crazy thing is I don’t even care either way. Even though that moment in the woods was only about a week ago I feel like a different person. Since Jake, I guess. The me before seems like this silly, jealous little girl.

Looking at Cora I just felt bad for her. And guilty that she lost her job cos of me. I told her about the plans tonight. Said maybe she could come along a bit later when Frankie’s mellowed out a bit? She was so grateful it made me feel even worse. Not sure anything is going to change Frankie’s mind now. She was different yesterday, though, at the caravan park with Mum and Dad. So maybe?

Anyway, Jake’s coming to pick me up at eight and I’m making an effort. I’ve got my silky yellow Miss Selfridge dress. I can’t wear a bra under so I’m going to wear it with my bleached denim jacket on top so Dad doesn’t freak out. I’ve borrowed Mum’s No. 7 palette, done cat flicks with eyeliner. I want to blow his mind.

And maybe we only go for a bit? Maybe when it’s not too rude we can sneak off together. Go sit on the cliffs and look at the supermoon...

The last true night of the summer.