“What can we do? We shall live our lives Yes, we shall live, Uncle Vanya. We shall live all through the endless procession of days ahead of us, and through the long evenings.” Tess-as-Sonya had said, while Uncle-Vanya-bloke wept. Bearing the monotony of life, waiting for the ultimate payoff of peace in death had seemed bloody stupid to Frankie, and rather dreadful too. What kind of living would that be? That was not what she wanted for herself nor Cat. She had felt the weight of Tess-as-Sonya’s final words -“We shall rest. We shall rest. We shall rest”- and glanced to her left, finding Cat’s anxious eyes two seats from her. I want to rest now, Frankie had thought, with you.

When the play had ended, they had all poured out into the street, and she had spotted Cat, sans Sherriff Sam, leaning against the wall of the old steeple. Ignoring Jay’s raised eyebrow, Frankie had lit a cigarette and walked towards Cat, not wanting to miss the chance to talk and be close to her.

“Hi,” Frankie had said, breathing out a cloud of smoke and positioning herself beside Cat.

“Hi.” Cat had smiled nervously, and her eyes seemed to be all over the place.

“Where’s Sam?”

“Bathroom. She won’t be long.”

“’Course not. She’s like your bloody shadow.”

“Frankie…”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry this is hard for you, but I wanna see you, we need to talk.” Frankie had cursed herself for the pleading tone in her voice.

“I’ll try, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Then, Frankie had slid her hand between Cat’s back and the wall, finding Cat’s fingers and giving them a meaningful squeeze before returning with the others. Ignoring Jay once more, she had grinned at Fin, Tess’s new girlfriend, and chatted up with her and Ed, who had almost lost his lunch from the excitement of seeing Tess on stage.

Now, Frankie was by herself in the apartment. Tess was spending an increasing amount of time at Fin’s, which was understandable, and would eventually move out, of course. They all did. That was life – movement: driving a minivan full of your belongings towards a new home. Just like Sam moving in with Cat; life, future, security… boredom. Love. Cat loved Sam, or so she had said, but Cat also loved her. What did everything add up to? A load of shit, apparently, and Frankie was loathing her present role with a passion.