by Jamie Bowers
Take care and make sure you rest,
Franny
X
The kiss at the end of the note made Joe smile, he was so happy that he still had a friend after all that had happened. Joe folded the note back up and placed it back on the counter. He limped over to the cupboards and opened a couple of doors. Taking a glass from one he placed it in the sink and filled it from the tap. Holding the glass to his mouth he drank it so fast he couldn’t get enough. He filled the glass again and again, drinking several pints of water before stopping. He placed the glass on the counter and wiped his hand across his mouth to catch the drips of water as they ran down his chin. He walked over to the fridge and opened the door to see an array of fine meats, cheese and desserts, enough to feed a banquet. He took out a plate of ham and stood over the counter as he devoured every last scrap, like a lion demolishing a fresh carcass. Before he knew it, the plate was empty and his face and hands covered in honey glaze from the ham. Joe rinsed his hands under the tap and wiped them down his bathrobe. He slowly limped back through to the living room and sat gently onto one of the sofas. The piece of paper that Doctor Gable had left was still lying on the table. Joe picked it up and started to read, it was overflowing with long words he couldn’t pronounce or understand. The main things that he picked out were the words “cancer”, “inoperable” and “death”. This quickly rung true in Joe’s mind and the reality of the situation became all too much. He screwed up the piece of paper and in a rage threw it into the unlit fireplace. With tears running down his face, he felt awash with emotion, adrenalin pumped through his veins giving him anger and determination. He stood as quickly as his leg would let him and walked upstairs to his bedroom. Laying himself on the floor, he raised his feet onto the edge of the bed.
‘Here goes.’ He said to himself as he placed his hand either side of his head and pulled his torso towards his knees. Dropping backwards, his head hit the hard, wooden floor as the pains in his stomach stopped him from doing the sit-up with success. ‘It’s only pain,’ he said to himself, trying to do another sit-up, ‘it is for the weak.’ He pulled himself forward once more and let out a cry as his chest met his knees. Letting go once more he hit the floor harder than before. This didn’t stop Joe as he pulled himself up, again and again. After around thirty sit-ups he got to his feet the best he could and walked to the doorway. Gripping his fingers on the edge of the frame he pulled himself up and then lowered down gently, making sure not to touch the floor. He did this several times until he could feel his heart was going to burst out of his head. He repeated the cycle of the two exercises for several hours until he heard the front door close.
Making sure that the gown was wrapped tight around his waist; Joe walked to the top of the stairs and looked down to see Francis standing at the front door with several bags of shopping.
‘It was fun shopping for you,’ she said as she lifted the bags to show how much she had done. Still holding the bags in both hands she ran up the stairs and greeted Joe at the top, ‘Are you okay?’ she said looking at his face dripping in sweat, ‘You look warm.’ Joe dabbed his sleeve across his forehead.
‘Oh this?’ he said as he wiped his face, ‘Just had a bit of a bad dream, that’s all.’ Francis looked at him with concern.
‘As long as you say you’re alright, I don’t want you to worry about anything on your own.’
She placed the bags on the floor and took some items out, ‘Look at this,’ she said holding up a cream and beige shirt, ‘I thought that you would look great in this.’ Joe held out his hand and rubbed the material between his fingers. It felt soft to the touch, better than anything he could ever afford.
‘Don’t just look at them,’ Francis said as she placed the shirt back in the bag, ‘these are for you.’ She picked the bags back up from the floor and walked into Joe’s bedroom, ‘Get dressed and I will make us something nice to eat.’ She said as she tossed the bags onto the bed.
‘You don’t have to do this.’ Joe said as he followed her into the bedroom.
‘I know I don’t have to,’ she said as she walked past him towards the stairs, ‘but I want to.’
Joe walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. As night was closing in, he turned on the bedroom light for the first time, illuminating the glamorously decorated walls and furniture. Picking up the shopping bags, he tipped the clothes onto the bed. A range of mostly dark colours in every bag, with the exception of one bag that had socks and underwear, perfect for Joe to feel a bit more comfortable. He pushed the clothes across the bed and sat on the edge. Slowly slipping the bathrobe off his shoulders he picked up a pair of the underpants. Lifting his left leg slowly, he slipped his foot into the underpants and pulled them up over his dressing and to his knee before putting his right foot in and pulling them the rest of the way up. The soft cloth felt nice and fresh, Joe couldn’t wait to put on the rest of the clothes. Putting on the socks and a pair of black denim jeans, Joe stood up and put on the cream and beige shirt that Francis had shown him earlier. It was obviously an item she was fond of getting for him so he felt only right to be wearing this first. As he fastened the buttons up the front, he took a look at himself in the mirror. The clothes were the right size from what he always had before but they seemed to hang from his thin frame.
As he looked down at his body he felt like a new man, a free man, but he knew that this wouldn’t last long. Joe walked out of his room and into the bathroom where he had left his shoes before. Sliding his feet into the shoes and tying the laces, it seemed to finish off the outfit, making him feel happy. He went downstairs, still limping as he held the rail with both hands, the smell of food once again filling the air as he went. As he stepped onto the solid wood floor, he could see the fireplace alight, throwing flames up the chimney breast. He walked closer into the living room and could see Francis in the dining room placing things on the table.
‘I thought we would eat in here tonight.’ She said as she placed a jug of water in the centre. Joe walked through to the dining room and gently lowered himself onto a seat at the end of the table.
‘It smells good.’ He shouted through to Francis in the kitchen.
‘Tonight we have,’ she said as she walked in with two plates of food. ‘beef in a red wine sauce with an assortment of vegetables.’ Placing the dish in front of Joe, she sat down in the adjacent seat.
‘This is very elegant,’ said Joe as he took in the aroma, ‘is this as close to regular food that you get?’ Francis smiled as she sprinkled pepper over her dish.
‘Well, this was something that my Uncle’s cook used to do for me when I came here and I enjoyed it, minus the red wine of course. She would teach me how to cook and this was the first thing I learnt.’ Joe picked up his knife and fork and pressed them into the beef, it fell apart perfectly showing the pink centre as the sauce soaked in. The vegetables were soft and full of flavour, just like the beef they were flawlessly cooked. Unlike when he ate the pasta, Joe savoured every bit of the meal, he knew that Francis had put a lot more effort into this just for him and he wanted to show his appreciation. Whilst they ate, no words were exchanged as they both valued every mouthful as if it was the last.
After they finished and the last bit of food was swallowed, Joe decided to be the first one to break the silence.
‘That was just amazing. I can’t believe that you are doing all of this for me.’ He said as he placed his cutlery across his plate.
‘I told you before,’ Francis said as she poured water into their glasses, ‘I am doing this because I want to. I don’t want you to be alone, Joe.’ Joe reached his hand across the table and placed it over Francis’.
‘I don’t know what you are going to get out of this, but I assure you that nobody will ever know that you helped me.’ Francis placed her other hand onto his and rubbed her thumb across the back.
‘I just want to know that I helped, nothing more.’ Francis quickly stood up, ‘Why don’t we change the mood a bit and have some fu
n?’ She said as she grabbed a bottle from behind the drinks cabinet, ‘How about some rum and music?’ She trotted over to a gramophone in the corner of the room and moved the needle onto the record. The music started to play and the volume echoed through the house. The soft sound of jazz music played, Francis swayed her arms and body as she walked over to Joe. She placed the bottle of rum on the table and grabbed Joe by both his hands.
‘Why don’t we see how good your leg is?’ she said as she pulled him to his feet.
‘I don’t really dance,’ said Joe as he limped onto his leg, ‘I haven’t since my wedding day.’ Francis held Joe’s hands out at the side, stretching his reach as far as she could.
‘Just move your body with the music,’ she said as she move him side-to-side, ‘it’s easy when you let yourself go.’ Joe felt stiff and awkward as Francis pulled him around like a ragdoll.
‘I can’t really dance,’ he said as she moved her head to the music, ‘especially with my leg.’ The rhythm of the music slowed and became more of a relaxed beat.
‘This could be better for you.’ said Francis as she picked up the bottle of rum and swallowed a large mouthful. She put her hand on Joe’s waist and with the other held out his arm to one side, ‘Nice and slowly,’ she said as she shuffled her feet around his, ‘just follow my lead.’ Joe tried to sway with the music, but didn’t feel comfortable.
‘Maybe I need a drink.’ he said as he reached out his hand and grabbed the bottle. Lifting the bottle to his mouth, he tipped his head backwards and took a large mouthful of rum. He coughed as the drink ran down his throat.
‘Jesus Christ!’ he said as he stepped backwards, out of Francis’ arms, ‘That is strong shit.’ Francis couldn’t help but laugh at Joe as his face turned purple with coughing.
‘Maybe you should drink something else.’ Francis said as she walked over to the drinks bar.
‘No, it’s okay.’ Said Joe still holding the bottle, ‘If you can do this, I can too.’ Joe lifted the bottle once more to his mouth and drank for several seconds as nearly half the bottle disappeared. As he lowered the bottle he looked at Francis with glazed eyes, she grabbed the bottle out of his hand and he fell instantly onto his back, his head bouncing off the wood floor.
‘Maybe I need to lie down.’ He said laughing as he stared at the ceiling. Francis took another large mouthful of rum from the bottle and placed it on the table. She stumbled over to Joe and grabbed him by the hands. She leant backwards and tried to lift him but he was too heavy. As she pulled his arms, Francis was only dragging around the floor. As she pulled and struggled they both laughed uncontrollably, Francis lost her grip on Joe’s hand and fell onto her backside with a thud.
‘I think I need to get somewhere more comfortable.’ said Joe trying to steady himself to his feet. He stumbled up onto both feet, putting more pressure on his right leg and limped into the living room. Collapsing quickly onto the sofa, he let out a sigh as he regained his breath, ‘You do know how to have a good time.’ He said to Francis who was still sitting on the dining room floor.
‘Well,’ she said as she stood up, ‘sometimes you need to forget about your problems and the drink helps.’ She grabbed the bottle from the table and stumbled into the living room. She placed the bottle on the table and collapsed on the seat next Joe.
‘Forgetting your problems is not the answer.’ Joe said as he took the bottle and had a sip, ‘Facing them head-on can be better than hiding away.’ He passed the bottle to Francis and she had a drink.
‘Is that what you are going to do? Face them head-on with no other thought?’ Joe shuffled himself up in the seat and lifted his leg onto the coffee table.
‘I need to get this sorted first,’ he said pointing at his leg, ‘and then I will sort things out. And after that, you will never need to see me again, because I’ll be long gone with my family.’ Francis placed the bottle gently on the coffee table and turned to Joe, he could feel that the tone of the conversation was about to change.
‘What if everything you believed was far from the truth and what you strived for was just an illusion?’ Francis asked. Joe turned and looked her in the eye.
‘What do you mean by that?’ he asked. ‘I’m just saying,’ said Francis, ‘why would someone frame you for the murder of your wife and daughter just to see you go to prison and keep them locked up? This just all seems a bit elaborate.’ Joe sat silent, staring at the light shining through the rum bottle as it stood on the table. ‘I don’t want to tell you what to do, but I am scared that you will go in guns blazing without considering the possibilities of what might be.’ Francis said as she gently placed her hand on Joe’s lap.
‘Is there something I should know?’ asked Joe, ‘Did you find something else that you haven’t told me yet?’ Francis squeezed Joe’s knee to show her affection.
‘I went back to the dock today and saw that there are now more men guarding the building that I followed Gordy to. I was across the water trying to keep my distance when I saw some people turn up in a van. I didn’t see who it was but I could see them load something into the back of the van and drive off. I believe that whatever is there is some kind of illegal smuggling that is run from there. To be honest, I haven’t seen anything to indicate that’s where your family are and if they really are alive at all.’ Joe stood up as quickly as his leg and his alcohol infused mind would let him.
‘I can’t just do nothing.’ he said rubbing his brow. ‘Why would Gordy go to such great lengths just to set me up? What if the witnesses were paid off by Gordy in an elaborate frame-up to get me out of the picture? There has to be something I’m missing and I think Tom can tell me more.’ He paced around the back of the sofa in deep thought.
‘I think that’s a big risk going to see him,’ said Francis, turning to face him, ‘especially if Gordy has him tight by his side.’
‘I suppose they will be looking out for me,’ said Joe, ‘but they won’t be looking for you, Franny. You could go to Tom’s house and find out where they have Gina and Mary.’ Francis stood up and walked around the back of the sofa to Joe. She grabbed his hand and led him back to his seat.
‘If you stay here I will go to Tom and find out what I can. But for now,’ she said picking up the rum bottle, ‘we need to finish this and get some rest.’ She took a large mouthful of drink from the bottle and passed it to Joe. He placed the bottle against his lips and tipped his head back, finishing what was left.
‘It’s strong,’ Said Joe coughing as the rum ran down his throat, ‘but I suppose it will help me sleep.’
‘We are not in a fit state to be vigilantes tonight, Joe.’ Said Francis, ‘but tomorrow I will see what I can do as long as you promise to rest and get back to health.’ Joe bobbed his head from side-to-side as he tried fix his eyes on something that wasn’t blurry.
‘I will get better.’ He said, ‘But right now I feel like this rum is making me worse.’ He went to stand up and froze as his balance seemed to get away from him. Francis quickly stepped to his side and lifted his arm around her neck, supporting his weight.
‘Bed time, I think.’ She said as she ushered him towards the stairs. ‘One foot at a time and we’ll have you in bed in no time.’
Holding onto Joe’s waist and supporting him across her shoulder, Francis managed to get Joe to the top of the stairs and around the railing to his door. Turning the handle with her free hand, she stumbled to keep him upright. Leaning against the wall as they walked into his bedroom, she succeeded to get him to the bed and drop his lifeless body on the soft bedding. Francis realised that Joe became unconscious somewhere between the bottom of the stairs and the bedroom, this was why it seemed to get more difficult on the way up. She lifted his legs softly onto he bed, being careful not to aggravate his injury and pulled the blanket over to keep him comfortable.
‘Well, that was a good night.’ She said walking back towards the door, ‘I will help you, Joe. I promise.’ She closed the door behind her softly, leaving Joe to get a good sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Six
After what felt like the longest sleep he had ever experienced, Joe woke to what can only be described as an elephant playing basketball inside his head. Keeping his eyes shut from the sunlight burning through his bedroom window, he slipped his legs onto the floor and gently stood up. Forcing his eyes open, he looked down and could see he was still wearing the same clothes as the night before, including his shoes. He stumbled over to the door and pulled it open gently, even the small sound of the hinges creaking made him grimace as the noise echoed through his head. Slowly, he stepped across the landing and down the stairs, firmly holding onto the bannister with both hands all the way. Going through the dining room, Joe noticed the clock showing eleven-twenty. He was shocked at how much he had slept without so much as a worry running through his head.
The dishes were left in place in the dining room and kitchen from the night before, clearly Francis wasn’t up for tidying up after the evening’s drinking. Joe went to cupboard, took the largest glass he could find and filled it with water from the sink. Emptying the glass quicker than he filled it, he leant on the counter, trying to get his head clear. After what felt like several minutes, he drank more water and left the glass on the side next to the sink. Still limping from his injured leg, Joe went into the lounge and sat on the floor.
Joe took off his shirt and shoes and tossed them onto the sofa. He then shuffled himself forward, lay down gently onto his back and lifted his knees, keeping his feet flat on the floor. With a gasp of air, he sat up and pressed his chest against his knees, causing his stomach to tighten in pain. This didn’t deter Joe as he dropped slowly to the floor and sat back up again, with his arms either side of his head. One after another, he continued with the sit-ups until he physically couldn’t do more. He lay flat on his back to gather his breath before rolling over onto his stomach. Positioning his hands under his shoulders, he bent his knees and lifted his feet off the floor. Pushing with all his strength, he lifted his torso clean off the wood and locked his arms, extending them as far they would go. Holding his weight, he lowered himself as far as he could before pushing back up as high as possible. Repeating the push-ups whilst keeping his feet elevated, his rhythm got faster as the adrenalin pumped through his body. Eventually, with sweat from his face making a puddle underneath him, Joe collapsed hard to the floor.