Yes, I do, I believe that one day I will be
Where I was right there, right next to you
And it's hard, the days just seem so dark
The moon and the stars, are nothing without you
Your touch, your skin, where do I begin?
No words can explain the way I'm missing you
Deny this emptiness this hole that I'm inside
These tears they tell their own story.
Told me not to cry when you were gone
But the feeling's overwhelming, it's much too strong.
Lay You Down - Sam Smith
Franky awoke and was plagued with the feeling of an immense hangover. She rubbed her eyes, groaning. She was in bed wearing someone else's jumper, but no bottoms. Was she alone? She turned over and a familiar smell invaded her senses. Her bed smelt like Gidget. But why? Her memory was lapse right now, she needed coffee. But was Gidge here? Wincing at the pain in her head, she swung her legs out of bed and paced to the kitchen, desperate for a drink. The kitchen was clean, Della must have tidied up. Fuck, Della! She remembered now, they had had an argument and Franky had stormed out of her apartment, leaving there. Della must have tidied up before she left. Frankie spotted a glass of water on the counter, with some pain killers next to it. She quickly popped 2 pills into her mouth and downed the water. There was a note next to the glass:
Take these and drink this - your hangover will thank you! I hope you're ok, call me when your ready and we will fix this, I promise. - G.
Franky smiled. So she was here last night. And then she remembered. Franky had got horribly drunk, called Bridget, spewed out the side of her car and must have fallen asleep. She remembered Bridget kissing her head, and holding her in bed, so where was she now? She rummaged through her bag and pulled out her phone, but the battery was dead. Fuck. She dashed to the charger and plugged it in, and after a few seconds it powered up again. 4 missed calls and 6 messages from Della. Shit. But she would deal with that later. Nothing from Bridget though. She scrolled through her list of contacts and dialled Bridget. It rang, until she finally answered.
"How's the head this morning?" Bridget sounded fresh and awake, so Franky guessed she got plastered alone last night.
"I feel like shit," she said, her voice hoarse. Bridget found it sexy, but didn't say so.
"Yeah, well rum on the rocks tends to do that to people. Are you alright?"
"Mmm, fine," Franky replied. A wave of nausea crashed through her but she suppressed it. "Sorry for last night; I don't remember everything that happened but I don't drink often so i'm guessing I either made an arse of myself or was nasty to you." She prayed it wasn't the latter.
"It's ok," the blue-eyed blonde replied. "You were sick, a few times, then you crashed out in my car, but you weren't nasty. Not that I didn't deserve it, but no. Just drunk!"
"Gidget..." Franky said. "I'm sorry. Were you here last night? I woke up and the bed smelt like you. I'm wearing what i'm guessing is your jumper."
"Shh. It's ok. I took you home and tucked you in. I stayed with you until you fell asleep. I fell asleep myself but I decided to go. And you were sick down the front of your own top, so I washed it."
Franky laughed. "God, what a mess. Thank you, well you know, for coming to get me."
"It's ok, i'm glad I was there. Look, can we talk? Sometime soon? There's things I need to say, stuff to clear up..."
"Me too."
"Did you get my note?" Bridget asked.
Franky nodded, then realised she had to speak. "Yeah, I did."
"Well, I meant what I wrote. We'll fix this, ok?"
"Ok Gidge, I'll call ya later. I need to be sick and have a shower!"
Bridget hung up and smiled. Progress. It may have been small talk and a brief joke, but it was progress. She knew that her and Franky needed to iron things out, no matter what the outcome was going to be. She suddenly had a overwhelming feeling to call Vera, and give her a proper explanation as to why she quit her job. Bridget suspected that the now-governor of Wentworth must have had an inkling that she and Franky had something going on, but she felt like she had a duty to explain herself. She didn't know why now, but knew it would help the healing process if she was honest about everything.
She keyed in Vera's direct number, still saved in her phone from when she left. She hoped it was the same as before.
"Governor Bennet," Vera answered, an air of authority about her voice resonating down the phone.
"Vera its Bridget, Bridget Westfall." Vera was the closest thing Bridget had to a friend in the prison, and she noticed how she lived in the governor's shadow, desperate to prove herself as competent.
"Bridget?" Vera said, the surprise in her voice apparent. "Wow, Bridget, it's been years. How are you?"
"I'm well, thank you. How about yourself? How's things at Wentworth?"
"Oh you know, same as always. Nothing really changes in this place. I suppose you heard about Ferguson and all that happened? And Bea Smith too?"
Bridged had heard snippets on the news and online about Joan's incarceration and how she Bea came to her unfortunate end, but she chose not to get too fixated. Wentworth was her past now.
"Briefly, yes," Bridget said. "I was always fond of Bea, it's a shame." She paused, momentarily. "I actually wanted to speak to you about something."
"Bridget, if you want your old job back, you know what my answer will be!" Vera laughed. "The women miss you, they still speak about you, you were one of the good things in that place."
"Thanks Vera," Bridget said. "Can we meet sometime? It would be nice to see you, and i'd like to get some things off my chest."
"Well, I can take an extended lunch today if that suits you?" Vera began. It was Saturday; Bridget had no plans as of yet. Not until she heard from Franky. "Are you ok, Bridget?"
"Today is perfect Vera, and yes, i'm fine! Shall I meet you at that little deli round the corner from the prison? I don't remember it's name."
"Fargos? Yes, lets meet there at 1pm. I look forward to it."
Vera rang off. It was almost 11am now. Bridget decided to go for a run, to clear her head and focus on what exactly and how she would tell Vera. Today was the day she needed to get everything off her chest, to everyone.
