Mystic Detective (14)

[Creative writing. Magic visit to the Paperplanes creative writing class last Saturday at Fuel Cafe where to my surprise the Mystic, Frankie and Claudia all turned up. I feel a bit cruel how the plot around Claudia has developed,. This was an unexpected twist for me!]

As he turned the corner Paul felt uneasy. Was he being followed or not? It was twilight time, sundown, that time of day when solids turned into shadows and shadows melted away. There definitely was somebody behind him. Paul suddenly swung round to face him. Before he could grab hold of and grapple with him he realised it was Frankie.
- Fuck it Frankie what are you doing following me? you gave me such a fright. And I very nearly slugged you!
- Sorry mystic … but I just needed to see you.
- Let’s find a bar
The Blue Lagoon was nearby. It tried too hard to be hip as did most of its clientele who seemed to be living in some kind of retro 30s time warp. The dim lighting hid the rather shabby quality of the decor and the piano. But there was a singer worth listening to doing a slow version of Summertime in a more than half decent way which unfortunately did not apply to her clothing which needed at least another half yard of fabric. The pianist like the piano had seen better times and probably remembered some of them but Summertime at a slow pace was not beyond his wit to play.
- OK Frankie what gives? said Paul as they nursed bottles of Corona with their obligatory slices of limes stuffed in the bottle necks. Frankie was silent as he took a big swallow of his beer and looked downwards not able to met Paul’s eye. Paul waited for something was clearly bothering Frankie
- - I… er… fuck it Claudia’s driving me mental
- Hm
- Mental!.... She wants me to adopt her!
- Wow… why?
- Why?
- Yes why?
- Fuck knows.
Frankie began weeping. ‘Oh Fuck’ said Paul under his breathe. In a rather angry gesture Frankie rubbed a hand across his eyes to wipe away his tears. Paul waited, quiet and still.
- Ah, silly bitch, said Frankie shaking his head,
- Why doesn’t she leave me alone?
…………………………………………………………………………………….
Some money had disappeared from Frankie’s wallet. Forty pounds, not a huge sum, but Frankie, whilst being natural generous with his money, always knew how much money he was carrying on him, how much money was left in his current account. Since he noticed the money had disappeared following his last meeting with Claudia then he had to challenge her despite his reluctance. Then met once more in Christie’s Bistro at the university since Frankie hoped that this rather neutral and semi public arena would keep a lid on Claudia rather volatile nature of late. Claudia looked rather tired and worn and for her rather surprisingly grubby.
- Claudia?
- Hi Frankie, (a soft and thin voice lacking what was it, lacking confidence, unsure of itself.)
- Claudia? Why?
- I had to, (she didn’t even try to deny it)
- Why didn’t you ask me first?
- Because, (pause)
- Because what? (Frankie was getting angry)
- Because I was desperate (Oh Fuck she about to cry, I don’t buy it, I wont!)
- That’s not enough! Why! (really angry now)
- Because… because…
She swallowed hard and rolled up her sleeve and showed him the marks in her arm left by the needles.
- Oh, he gasped.
He was horrified but he drew her close and she clung to him briefly weeping but then pulled away from him. Frankie took a deep breath and asked
- How long has this been going on?
- Since… since last summer.
- Why… I want the truth this time
- Ahm… I can’t tell you (said in a rush as she gathered her things together and fled the bistro.
- Claudia, Claudia, called Frankie as he stood up but made no attempt to follow her. There was no reply, no reaction - apart from some curious glances from people sitting at nearby tables with not enough to do but to take a ghoulish interest in other people’s lives. Or so Frankie thought as he too gathered up his things and left.