An Affair With Danger - a noir romance novella

by Robin Storey

  ‘How did you find us?’ she demanded.

  ‘We can’t tell you the specifics,’ I said. ‘I know you didn’t want your identity revealed and I apologise if we’ve shocked you by turning up out of the blue like this, but Frankie’s been so desperate to find Jake that this was the only way. ‘

  ‘I hope you’re not offended, but can I see some ID? I need to be satisfied that you’re who you say you are.’

  I took a business card from my wallet and handed it to her. Frankie scrabbled around in her handbag and produced her driver’s licence. Leonie looked closely at them both and handed them back to us.

  ‘You’d better come in then.’

  She ushered us in to a large, airy living room. The decor exuded the old-fashioned comfort of a traditional family home, before marble and glass, and stainless steel became trendy.

  ‘We’d better introduce ourselves,’ Leonie said. ‘This is my husband, Colin and I’m Leonie.’

  We all shook hands. Frankie and I sat side by side on a leather couch, and Colin and Leonie sat in a recliner each. The walls and mantelpiece were adorned with framed family photos. I followed Frankie’s gaze to one of a lanky, blonde-haired boy with an infectious grin. He was in a gown and mortar board, holding up a certificate.

  ‘That’s Jake at his primary school graduation,’ Leonie said. ‘He used to call out for you all the time when he first came to us. “Where’s Frankie, I want Frankie!” We asked the department if we could arrange contact, but they kept fobbing us off and in the end we gave up. And eventually Jake stopped asking.’

  ‘He did?’ Frankie’s voice was hoarse.

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, he never forgot you. When he turned 18, I suggested he register with the Reunion Register so that if you were looking for him, you could find him; and he assured me that not only would he do that, but that he’d track you down. But… ‘ She faltered. ‘He got caught up doing other things.’

  ‘What sort of things?’ Frankie said.

  Leonie looked over at Colin, who was leaning forward, hands between his knees, gazing at the floor. He looked up and cleared his throat. ‘Jake passed away six months ago.’

  Silence. A clock ticked somewhere. Tears rolled down Leonie’s face and she made no attempt to brush them away.

  ‘How?’ Frankie’s voice was barely a whisper.

  ‘Drug overdose,’ Colin said. ‘We think it was an accident. He’d been off them for a while, trying to stay clean, and then he went to a mate’s birthday party and was found in one of the bedrooms the next morning with the needle still in his arm. No one knew he was there – they thought he’d gone home. If I ever find the bastard who gave him that hit...’

  Leonie smiled at Frankie through her tears. ‘He was such a beautiful boy; a good-looking kid and a real charmer. Smart, too. He got into engineering at University, but decided to take a gap year. Worst thing he ever did. He got a job on a labouring site; they were all into drugs, smoked cannabis on the way to work. Someone introduced him to heroin and that was it. He never made it to Uni.’

  ‘Why, why, why?’ Frankie’s fists were clenched. ‘I was searching for him, waiting for him, why didn’t he find me?’

  ‘He had all the best intentions,’ Colin said. ‘But the best way I can describe it was that he had demons. There was something eating away inside him. I don’t know if it was his Dad leaving or being taken away from his mother and you, or all of them and more. He never believed in himself, always thought he was a failure no matter how well he did.’

  He got up, picked up a framed photo from the mantelpiece and gave it to Frankie. ‘That was his Year 12 graduation.’

  A strapping young man in cap and gown smiled out from the photo. His face glowed with the shining optimism and expectancy of youth, though there was a reserve in his eyes that was absent from the younger photo.

  ‘If he wasn’t my brother, I’d say he was hot,’ Frankie said.

  ‘The girls loved him,’ Colin said. ‘He was a – what do they call it – chick magnet. But the nice ones all fell away when he started the drugs, and some of the types he brought back here ... in the end we had to forbid him to bring his friends around because we have two younger daughters as well. So of course he left home, so he could hang out with them.’

  ‘Have you got any more photos of him, when he was younger?’ Frankie asked.

  Leonie and Colin exchanged glances. ‘We’ve got albums full,’ Leonie said. ‘Would you like to stay for a while and have a cup of tea?’’

  ‘I’d love to,’ Frankie said.

  I stood up. ‘I’ll leave you here to catch up,’ I said to Frankie. I leaned over and gave her a hug. ‘I’m so sorry about Jake. Give me a call when you’re ready, and I’ll come and pick you up.’

  I left her gazing at the graduation photo of Jake.

  Colin accompanied me to the door. ‘That’s terrible news,’ I said. ‘You and Leonie must be devastated. Thanks for taking the time to talk to Frankie, I know it means a lot to her.’

  Colin clapped me on the shoulder. ‘No worries, I’m glad she found us. I really wish for Jake’s sake it had been sooner. We had a bad experience when we first started foster care – the father of one of our foster kids got out of prison, somehow found out where she was and turned up on our doorstep with a knife, demanding we give her back. So after that, we tightened up our privacy.’

  ‘No-one could blame you for that,’ I said. I thought about Frankie and Jake as I drove into the town centre. Would things have turned out differently if she’d found him earlier? Before he’d got into the drugs? Or even after? Maybe she could have helped him to get clean. The worst part was never knowing, you could torture yourself forever with the ‘if-onlys’ and ‘what-ifs’ and there were never any answers. Frankie was right. Closure was a bullshit word.

  Chapter 15

  I FOUND a quiet coffee shop in town and worked on my iPad, catching up on emails and organising my work calendar for the next week. Jared had managed to sort out the Bankruptcy Brothers in my absence and they were presenting a united front for court. I couldn’t help feeling a bit peeved that he’d been able to achieve what I hadn’t.

  Frankie messaged me at three o’clock. When I arrived, she opened the front door. Her face was pale and tear-stained, and she was clutching a small cardboard box. Colin and Leonie were standing behind her, and they each gave her a long hug.

  ‘You okay?’ I said as we got into the car.

  ‘Yep. They gave me some photos and a couple of Jake’s things for keepsakes. They want me to keep in touch and invited me to visit whenever I want. Jake was so lucky to have them for a family. Why the fuck did he have to go and stuff it all up?’

  She was bristling with anger. ‘I’m so fucking mad at him I could burst. And I’m mad at Tom for leaving him without a Dad. And Mum ... I take it back about not hating her. If she hadn’t loved booze more than she loved us, he might have had a fighting chance. Both of us.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s tough all right.’

  In this situation, words didn’t even begin to suffice. I reached over and gave her hand a squeeze.

  We were heading towards town. ‘What do you want to do now?’ I asked. ‘Do you want to head home?’

  Frankie shrugged. ‘I don’t know what I want. I want to walk, I want to sleep, I want to get pissed.’

  ‘All right, let’s book into a motel for the night and we’ll head off first thing tomorrow.’

  I found a motel, Avalon Inn, overlooking the ocean and we checked into rooms 24 and 26.

  ‘If you need to talk, I’m right here,’ I said to Frankie, as she inserted the key into the front door of her room.

  ‘Thanks. I just need to be alone. Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll do my own thing.’

  A stiff breeze had blown up out of nowhere, but I needed some fresh air; so I put on a jacket and went for a walk along the beach, right round to the marina. I sat on a seat with a view over the bay to the thickly forested shore opposite. The gentle lapping of the
water against the boats hypnotised me and I was only dimly aware of the squawking gulls and the flapping of the rigging against the masts of the yachts.

  I was back in the motel room with Frankie, holding her in her grief and anger, even though I knew that in reality there was nothing I could do or say that would make any difference.

  Dusk was creeping in by the time I got back to the motel. There was no sign of life from Frankie’s room and the curtains were drawn. I had dinner by myself in the motel restaurant then went back to my room, picked up my guitar and tried unsuccessfully to work on my new songs. After watching some crap TV, I went to bed at 10 o’clock.

  #

  I woke up to the sound of hammering on my door. The bedside digital clock said it was 2 am. I pulled on some jocks and opened the door a fraction. ‘Who is it?’

  ‘It’s me, Frankie.’

  I unlatched the door and she fell into my arms. She was sobbing, tidal waves of heaving sobs. I walked her over to my bed and sat her down beside me. I held her for what seemed like forever, her hair soft as clouds against my cheek. The sobs began to ebb. I kissed her neck – it was warm and musky-scented and I kept going up to her delicate ears, her eyebrows, her cheeks and round to her mouth. She responded with a passion that shot through me like an injection of stimulant, and then we were rolling on the bed. Frankie was still in her clothes and as I started to unbutton her shirt, she rolled off the bed, stood up and flung off her clothes.

  I rolled off my jocks. After a few perfunctory rubs of my cock – not that it needed any encouragement – she lowered herself on to me and began pumping away, her breasts bobbing rhythmically.

  ‘Wait a minute, ‘ I said. She stopped. ‘Um … that feels great, but can we slow it down a bit?’’

  Not that I hadn’t had my share of fast and furious in the past, but this was an experience I wanted to savour, down to every last millisecond.

  ‘Fuck, that’s a first,’ Frankie said.

  ‘What is? Being asked to slow down?’

  ‘Usually it’s just wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. And forget the thank-you.’

  I assumed she was referring to Eddie. So he wasn’t so hot in bed. Why didn’t that surprise me?

  I reached up and stroked a tendril of hair away from her face. In the moonlight shining through the bedroom curtain she was a ghostly silhouette.

  ‘You don’t have to put up with that, you know.’

  ‘What is this, sex therapy?’

  She heaved herself off me. My cock flopped out, shrunk and dejected.

  ‘The trouble with you, Will, is that you’re always in your head, thinking and analysing. You can never just let go and enjoy yourself.’

  She got off the bed, turned on the bedside lamp and began picking her clothes up from the floor.

  ‘Please don’t go. If you don’t want to make love, that’s fine. It will just be nice sleeping with you.’

  ‘Another first.’ But there was a smile in her voice. She draped her clothes over the couch then got back into bed, turned her back and I draped my arm over her and pulled her close to me. Her body curved into mine. Within seconds I could hear her steady breathing; but I stayed awake, trying to still the million thoughts racing around in my mind. Maybe Frankie was right, maybe I did think too much. But how could I help it? I was a lawyer. I was paid to think.

  The rattle of a breakfast tray being delivered next door woke me up. I checked the time. 8.05. I didn’t remember drifting off. Frankie started to stir. I ran my hands over her body, feeling and exploring every inch, then did the same with my lips. She was still and silent to begin with, but her nipples hardened and her breathing became ragged. My tongue flicked and dipped and twisted and when she came, gasping, I entered her and started the slow dance all over again. She cried out and that made me come, and then we lay in each other’s arms in that half-awake, half-asleep post-coital bliss, until the room cleaner rapped on our door at 10 o’clock.

  Chapter 16

  FRANKIE was silent as we sped along the highway back to Sydney. She was pale, and her eyes were puffy and red from all the crying of the previous night. Our lovemaking had been a complete surprise to me. Not that I hadn’t wanted it; I’d never dreamed it would happen. From the way Frankie had responded, I knew it was more than just physical. If it wasn’t, she was a better actor than I gave her credit for. Whatever her response, I had to tell her.

  ‘About last night. I just want you to know it wasn’t just a one night stand. For me, anyway.’

  ‘It has to be. I’m with Eddie, remember?’

  ‘He’s in jail for at least the next 12 months, maybe longer.’

  ‘So what are you suggesting? That I have an affair with you while he’s in jail?’

  I’m suggesting you ditch him altogether. But somehow, I didn’t think that would go down well.

  ‘So you’re just going to put your life on hold while he’s in jail?’

  ‘What choice do I have?’

  I didn’t answer. I felt her eyes on me.

  ‘Look, I know you think he’s just another criminal, and I admit he’s done some bad things, but deep down he’s a good person.’

  I bet that’s what Jack the Ripper’s victims thought, just before he hacked them to pieces.

  ‘I know of lots of guys whose girlfriends play up while they’re inside and sometimes they come home to find a kid that’s not theirs. That’s not going to happen to Eddie; I’m going to be there for him when he gets out. We want to start a family and I think being a father will be really good for him.’’

  Was she trying to convince herself as well as me? I didn’t share her faith in Eddie’s deep down goodness, but I kept my mouth shut. Anything I said would just sound like sour grapes from a thwarted lover – which they were.

  We were halfway to Sydney when Frankie said, ‘Can I drive? I’ve never driven an Audi.’

  I hesitated. I had never let anyone drive my car, not even Steph when her car was at the repairer’s. I’d insisted on driving her.

  ‘I can show you my driver’s licence, Mr Law and Order.’

  ‘No need for that. I’ll find a spot to pull over.’

  A couple of kilometres down the road there was a truck rest stop. I pulled over and got out, handing her the keys. It was on the tip of my tongue to say ‘For God’s sake, be careful!’ but I refrained. It was a pointless thing to say anyway – very few people get into a car with the deliberate intention of driving recklessly and smashing themselves and the car up.

  Frankie pulled out onto the road and put her foot down. A couple of times, the speedometer crept over 110 kilometres an hour, and she glanced at me and grinned. ‘Chill out, I know what I’m doing. I learned to drive on dodgem cars, remember?’

  ‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’

  She was calm and controlled as she sat at the wheel, with her hands in the exact ten-to-two position that I never seemed to achieve. As we approached the outskirts of Sydney, I asked, ‘Do you want me to take over?’

  ‘No way, I’m having too much fun. This car is sensational to drive.’ She glanced at me. ‘Can you stand the stress?’’

  ‘No stress, I’m enjoying being chauffeur-driven,’ I lied.

  I’d planned to drop Frankie off at Central Station so she could catch a train home. Once we got into the city traffic, she really turned on the driving, like something out of Top Gear – adroitly negotiating the traffic, weaving in and out to get ahead, knowing exactly when to brake and when to accelerate. A half-smile hovered around her lips as she tapped her foot to U2 playing on the car stereo.

  Then in a moment of clarity, I knew. ‘You drove the getaway car for the robbery, didn’t you?’

  ‘Are you asking me as a lawyer or a friend?’

  ‘I’m asking you as someone who’s made love to you even though you have a boyfriend and didn’t regret one second of it.’

  ‘You already know the answer then.’

  ‘Why?’

  She kept her gaze on the road as she slow
ed down for a red light. ‘If it wasn’t me, it would be someone else and that someone would probably be a shitty driver.’

  ‘Did you know Eddie had a gun?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So you knowingly took part in an armed robbery, fully aware that Eddie had a gun and could have hurt or killed someone?’

  I was surprised at the vehemence of the anger that shook my voice. Frankie’s grip on the steering wheel tightened until her knuckles were white. A line of tears tracked down her face. If she was trying to pull the sympathy card, it wasn’t working.

  ‘He had me in a headlock with a knife,’ she said dully. ‘He told me if I didn’t agree to help him, he’d slit my throat.’

  ‘And this is the man who’s a good person deep down and is going to be a good father to your kids? Jesus, Frankie, what planet are you living on?’

  ‘It’s the drugs – when he’s clean he’s a different person...’ Her voice trailed off.

  ‘How many more times will he threaten you before he gives up the drugs, if he ever does? Next time he might kill you.’

  Frankie swerved into the left lane, narrowly missing a Jeep, which blared its horn at her, and then pulled into a delivery parking space outside an office block. She reached over, hauled her overnight bag out from the back seat and handed me the keys.

  ‘Listen, Mr Up-Yourself-Goody-Two-Shoes lawyer, just because you fucked me doesn’t give you the right to tell me how to run my life. You know nothing about Eddie, or me. Go back to your mansion on the beach, and your snobby family and your whingeing, filthy rich clients, and leave me alone.’

  She opened the car door and sprang out.

  ‘Frankie, wait!’

  She slammed the car door and crossed the road, dodging the traffic, her overnight bag bobbing against her shoulder. I watched her until she disappeared into the crowd.

  #

  I stopped off at my apartment, changed into my work clothes and went into the office. My desk was a mess of papers, but I couldn’t get motivated to make a start. Louis poked his head through the door.