This is set somewhere around the time of the radio broadcast. As mentioned in The Unforgiven, Frankie points out in episode three that Boyd did leave a second message, and this is my take on how that message went. Okay, I went with call not a message, a call was more fun to write.
Frankie lay on her front on the bed, her head turned and her eyes locked on the picture frame on the bedside cabinet. They both looked so happy in the picture, so content. That was then though, and this was now. This was the now when the people in the picture were a distant memory when not two months after that very picture was taken he had called her on the phone and told her it was over. This was also the time when he had called her not three days before and left her a very long message. A very long voice message asking for her help and included the three words he had never said to her when they were together, yet could say them now months after they had split up and he was back to playing happy families with his wife.
She had never been very lucky in love, every man being just as disastrous as the last. All of them looking for something she just wasn't ready to give. Sex was good, having someone to wake up beside was nice, but the long term commitment was just not something she thought she was ever going to be ready for. Yet she thought she had found that someone, that special person she might actually want to do the long term thing with. But as per usual he wasn't available, or he was available but he was already doing the long term commitment thing with his wife. That hasn't stopped him wooing her, slowly seducing until that dark, cold and windy night when they were alone at a crime scene and he gave her a lift home. That lift home had turned into coffee, which had turned into sitting side by side of her couch, which lead to some serious tonsil tennis before they were both naked, sweaty and sated in her bed. It hadn't ended there, in fact, it had gone on for several months, several beautifully happy months where Frankie actually found herself falling in love with the man who she thought could never love her back.
When he left the first message she had, of course, jumped straight into the fray, agreed blindly to help save his career. She hadn't once stopped to think of the consequences, think of the hurt and the pain he had caused when he had called her to end their affair. Her heart had ruled her head again, and here she was, three days in and wishing with every ounce of strength she had left that she hadn't fallen in love with all them months ago, that she wasn't still in love with him. She was supposed to be resting, catching a few hours sleep before she headed back in and picked up where she left off. Spencer had demanded she go home, even if it was only for a couple of hours. Which had led her to where she was now, lying on her bed looking at the picture of them both. She had hoped when Jenny had told them that she was pregnant that she could distance herself from him, but that hadn't happened. What she wouldn't give to hear his voice, see his face, feel his arms wrapped tightly around her as they lay spooned together naked in bed.
When her phone rang she thought nothing about answering it, expecting either Spencer or Grace to be on the other end asking her to come back in early.
"Hello, Frankie Wharton." Answering the phone just like she always did.
"Frankie." The very familiar, very Male voice said as her breath caught in her throat hearing her name.
"Boyd." She managed to say, her own voice sounding shaky and dry.
"Hi, Frankie," Boyd replied listening to the silence down the receiver.
"What do you want, Boyd?" Trying to inject some strength into her still very weak voice.
"To talk, to hear a friendly voice." Boyd's voice soft and warm as he answered her.
"Phone your wife then." Frankie snapped back, considering hanging up on him but still holding the phone to her ear.
"I did already, but it's not her voice I want to hear, it's yours." Frankie throat restricting as all the old feelings came rushing back.
"Don't do this. Not now, not again." Her voice breaking as she fought to stay in control.
"I missed you." Knowing deep down he was twisting the knife in but the words flowing from his mouth before he could stop them.
"Missed me! Which bit did you miss? The sex, the no questions asked, or the part where you ask me to leave all this behind and fucking elope with you? Come on, Pete, which bit did you miss?" Boyd not blaming Frankie in the slightest for snapping at him.
"Everything. I take it Jenny came to see you and showed you the letter I wrote?" Knowing that he should have destroyed the letter, or had the balls to actually follow through with his words.
"No shit, no wonder you're a detective sergeant. How else would I know since you never bothered? I have it here if you want it back. I'm surprised Jenny even kept it, never mind handed it over to me." Her words now sharp and decisive.
"Frankie, I'm sorry. I never meant for you to get hurt, to get caught up in this mess, for any of this to end up being directed at you. What I wrote in the letter, I wish, god I wish more than anything I'd had the courage to ask you, to say the words to you. But I didn't and it's too late now. If I could turn the clock back, put this right and stop you from getting hurt I would do it in a heartbeat." His apology seeming hollow and inadequate.
"Put this right! I was dragged into this because I was shagging my boss. My married boss might I add. This is just as much my fault as it is yours. I should have walked away, never invited you up for coffee, or even walked away after that first night. But I didn't though did I? I let my heart rule my head and I followed blindly, falling for you more with each passing day." Realising too late what she had said.
"What I wouldn't give for you to be here with me now, Frankie. Listen." Boyd holding the phone so Frankie could hear the sound of the sea, of gulls, and the waves crashing against the rocks.
"Wow, are you at the cottage?" Frankie mentally picturing the small cottage, the big open fire, the big four poster bed with the thick comforter.
"It hasn't changed. You should see the place." Hearing Frankie take a deep breath in.
"Is the bed still the same, huge four poster thing?" Remembering how soft and warm the bed was, Boyd spooned up behind her.
"Yes, except you're not sharing it with me." Now hearing what he was sure was a sob from Frankie.
"I can't do this. No matter how much fun it is to remember what we had, what we no longer have." Frankie wiping away the tears that had rolled down her cheeks. "Did you phone for any other reason?" Slowly gaining control of her emotions again.
"Yeah, I wanted to tell you to look for something in the old files, something that could be important." The reality of the situation coming back full force.
Boyd told Frankie about the photography's taken of Jilly Bristow's room, told her to check them over carefully, make sure she took in every little detail. Frankie already had the folder with the pictures in, had briefly glanced through them once before.
"I'll look them over as soon as I'm done on the phone." Reassuring Boyd she would look straight away.
"Thank you." Pausing as he considered his words. "Listen, Frankie, if I don't come back, if I can't come back, I want you to know that what I said on the answering machine, I meant it, Frankie." His voice sounding sad and lonely.
"I won't let you go that easy, Boyd. Plus I think someone will track you down eventually. Are you okay? Do you need anything?" Her head letting her heart speak again.
"What I want I can't have, but I know I have you fighting my corner. Christ Frankie, I screwed up. With you, with Jenny, with everything. I have the best group of people I could ever ask for working to save me so I know you'll give it your all. We should talk when I get back." Trying to sound positive about his predicament.
"We will bring you home, no matter the cost. But if that fails is there any mixed-sex prisons? We can share doing time together." Trying to make a joke of the situation but knowing that if they didn't clear Boyd then she was also in the frame.
"Unfortunately no mixed prisons anymore, but it won't come to that. I won't let them send you down as well, Frankie." The certainty in his voice making her smile.
"Listen, I really should go. I was supposed to back her for a kip before heading back in." Not wanting to end the small connection she had with him after months of nothing.
"Shit, Frankie. Why didn't you tell me? I would have hung up ages ago." The concern clear in his voice.
"It's okay, I couldn't sleep anyway. I missed you, Pete." Finally admitting to him part of how she was feeling.
"Are you in bed?" Frankie frowning at his question.
"Yes, why?" Having no idea what difference it made where she was.
"Actually in bed? Not lying on the top of it fully clothed as you tend to do." Frankie glancing down at her jeans and sweater.
"What difference does it make?" Now even more confused why he was asking.
"So that means you are fully clothed, jeans and a sweater no doubt. The only thing you'll have taken off is them bright bloody pink boots. Get changed for bed and actually get into bed, Frankie." Injecting some authority into his voice as he smiled picturing Frankie actually getting ready for bed.
"But I don't want to hang up," Frankie grumbled as she held the phone to her ear and tried to shrug out of her jeans.
"Put the phone on the bed and get changed. It doesn't take long to strip off your clothes. It's not like you actually wear anything for bed anyway." Remember back to the time they had spent together.
"Who says I don't? Just because I never did when I was with you. There was no point wearing anything when we slept together, you would have just taken it off anyway." Finally getting her jeans off before she started on her sweater.
She had to put the phone on the bed so she could pull off her sweater, doing it as quickly as she could so she could return to the phone. This time when she climbed on the bed she did actually get in it, pulling the duvet right up and over herself. She picked the phone up and snuggled down, instantly yawing as she went to speak.
"Now I know you're in bed, you only yawn when you're relaxed and comfortable. We can talk until you fall asleep, then I'll hang up okay." Hearing Frankie mumble a reply rather sleepily.
"What have you been doing with your time? It not like there's much to do there if I recall. Then again, we didn't really leave the cottage much did we." The smile evident through the yawn.
"We had better things to do than go out. You remember when we spent the whole weekend in bed, only actually moving to answer the door to the takeaway guy or use the bathroom." Boyd smiling as he recalled that weekend.
"That was a good weekend. What about when we went down to the beach and watched the sunset, then we lay watching the stars slowly coming out. Or when we woke early and watched the sunrise, sitting on the swing seat on the decking." Frankie growing more sleepily as she talked.
"I remember you fell asleep curled up against my side on the beach. We nearly froze to death because I wanted to leave you sleeping. You look so peaceful when you sleep, so relaxed. You don't sleep enough Frankie, you never have."
"I never slept much when I was with you, we were always busy doing other stuff. I miss them days." Snuggling deeper under the cover and yawning again.
"Go to sleep Frankie. I'm here with you now, where I should have stayed." Listening to Frankie's breathing slowing as she started to fall asleep.
"Night Pete." Her words stinging him as she bid him good night.
"Night Frankie. Sleep well." Holding the phone closer so he could hear her better.
"Love you," Frankie mumbled as the line went silent.
"Love you too, Frankie." Finally saying aloud what he had only ever said to a tape recording.
He could just make out Frankie's breathing as she slept, pictured her dark hair fanned around her head and on her face. If he got out of this mess he would make it up to her, show her that he had made a mistake. What Frankie hadn't told him, the news that Jenny had shared with Grace and her was she was pregnant, and it would be news that would make him think differently about everything.