Breach of Faith

by Andrea Hughes

  Frank winked at me and shuffled some papers noisily around on the table in front of him. I caught sight of one of my parent’s phone bills and a number of brightly coloured pictures drawn by Kensie and Tom. Abruptly stopping the paper shuffling, Frank groaned loudly.

  “Damn, I’m sorry, I had it a moment ago. If you could just wait a moment, Beatrice, I’m sure my assistant could find it.” He listened a moment then grinned, his tired face lighting up. “Could you? That’d be great. Yes, he’s travelling to Sydney, Australia today. Now, this message is rather urgent, do you have a pen handy?” Another pause, then, “are you sure?” Frank stared at me and shook his head. “And there are no other flights? When’s the next one?”

  I was fidgeting with impatience by the time Frank had finished on the telephone.

  Frank grinned. “Will’s definitely not flying any time today or tomorrow. She got a bit suspicious when I started asking about the following day, I think she realised she’d breached the passenger confidentiality that you were talking about.”

  I let out the breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding. “Thank God.”

  Frank led me to the sofa. “What now?”

  I felt lost. What now? It was a good question, requiring some kind of response, the only problem was, I just didn’t know.

  Frank nudged me gently in the ribs, “it’ll turn out all right, Kate.”

  I nodded mutely. It was already dark, past teatime and still there was no word. He could be anywhere by now; they could be anywhere by now.

  “Does he have any other friends in England?”

  “I don’t think so. None that I know of, anyway.”

  Frank put his arm around my shoulders and I leaned against him, cherishing his strength and resilience. Please, I silently begged, let it all end soon.

  Please.

  Chapter thirty five

  5 January

  I stared at Will in astonishment, “why are you dressed like that?”

  “I suggest, madam,” he replied, a sardonic half-smile on his lips, “that it would be in your best interests to give me what I want.” His lecherous gaze travelled down my body, taking in every curve, every detail, undressing me with his eyes. I put my hands on my hips and willed myself to stand still; I would not give him the satisfaction of knowing how insecure I was feeling. What the bloody hell did he want? I must have missed that bit.

  “What do you want?” I asked loudly.

  Pulling his eyes away from the swell of my breasts, Will gazed lazily at my face. “I think you know the answer to that, madam.” Reaching out, he flicked impersonally at my boob, making me gasp.

  The floor lurched suddenly beneath my feet and I staggered, grabbing the closest wall for support. Will’s hand shot out, grasping my arm, steadying my balance but not my nerves. I pulled away, taking a step backwards.

  Will’s face lit up as laughter roared, the hilarity never reaching his eyes. “Me thinks the lady doth protest,” he shouted, causing general hilarity among those watching.

  The floor moved again, pitching crazily from side-to-side and I had the distinct, and very unreal, impression I was on a ship.

  A ship?

  “Who are you?” I was determined not to show fear to this man. This man who was the spitting image of my husband. This man who looked suspiciously like a pirate, rather gaily dressed in lace frills, fine velvets and silk. This man who smelled like he hadn’t bathed in weeks and the last time he had bathed had been in a toilet.

  The sardonic smile was back and the man-who-would-be-Will made me a very courtly bow, putting out his hand once more, grabbing my fingers and lifting them to his mouth, kissing my palm lightly.

  “My apologies, madam, I fear I have forgotten my manners in all this excitement. I am Sir Willem the Wanderer, at your service.” Dropping my hand he looked shrewdly into my eyes. “You are here at my pleasure, madam. Do as I say and you will be ransomed upon reaching land, unharmed and with your reputation relatively intact.” He stepped closer, pushing his face closer to mine, making me squawk in surprise. “Try to fight me, pretty lady, and you will regret it. Be warned, I have no compunctions about throwing you overboard, so unless you wish to become food for the monsters of the deep, I suggest you do exactly as I tell you to.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say.

  Sir Willem took a step back, breaking eye contact and dismissing me with a flick of his hand. “Take her away,” he ordered. Then he was gone.

  The floor was still rising and falling beneath my feet and before I had a chance to move or turn, strong hands grabbed me from behind. One arm slid snakelike around my waist, pinioning my arms to my sides, the other came from the other side, higher up, just beneath my breasts. “Come with me,” came a quiet voice from above my head.

  “Like I have a choice,” I muttered.

  He led me along a passage, his confident steps compensating for the swaying of the ship, his hips gyrating behind me. His arm pressed on the lower slope of my breasts, his breath warm on the back of my head. I felt bemused: I really must stop reading books about pirates before bed.

  “In here.” He led me into a small cabin, kicking the door closed behind him. It was simply furnished with a single bunk and small table, bolted to the floor. “You’ll be safe here,” he murmured, releasing me so suddenly I almost fell.

  Grabbing the table for support, I turned to face the man behind me, unsurprised to find another doppelganger leaning against the door. “And what do I call you?” I enquired.

  Frank’s double grinned mischievously. “Whatever you wish, my lady, however, my associates know me as Francis the Franciscan.”

  I snorted, “you’ve got to be kidding, a monk?”

  Francis inclined his head and folded his arms rakishly across his chest. “If it pleases you for me to be a monk, my lady, then so be it. I am happy to adopt any guise you wish.”

  “Are you a pirate?” I couldn’t help myself, I had to know.

  Francis laughed, a low, husky sound, and his deep blue eyes twinkled playfully. “As I said, my lady, your wish is my command.” He uncrossed his arms, holding out his hand. “Come, my lady, sit a while.” He led me to the bunk, sitting beside me on the rigid surface.

  “Well,” I remarked brightly, “this is nice.” The ship was still bobbing up and down pleasantly beneath my buttocks and I glanced curiously at Francis the pirate. His clothes, like his compatriot’s, were finely made of silk and velvet in warm colours. He sported less frills on his shirt than Willem the Wanderer and I wondered if there was a direct correlation between frills and a pirate’s level of command. Before I could ask, the ship lurched violently and I gave a startled cry as I was thrown hard across the bunk.

  “Easy now, my lady,” strong hands grasped me, lingering on my breast as they steadied and supported, saving me from tumbling head first off the bunk. As the ship stabilised, I found myself wrapped securely in the powerful arms of Pirate Francis, his mouth hovering just millimetres from mine.

  “I appear to have captured a prize,” he muttered, his breath warm on my cheek. “It seems, my lady, that the monster from the deep will have to find a meal elsewhere. It is I who is hungry now and I intend to claim my bounty.”

  “Goodness,” I felt breathless,

  Francis ran his fingers lightly down my cheek, along the side of my neck and down. My old-fashioned dress was low cut, the bodice accentuating the swell of my breasts. The thought flitted through my mind that I was possibly a lady of ill-repute, when Francis found the exposed flesh and a small shiver of desire ran through me. As I closed my eyes in pleasure, I felt his lips brush softly against mine.

  The pirate’s hand slid beneath the layers of fabric, his fingers cool as he cupped my breast and I moaned as my body tingled. Francis guided me down onto the bunk, his hands eagerly exploring my exposed breasts, his lips caressing my face.

  “Don’t ask me to stop,” he murmured, “I cannot stop, my lady.”

  “Don’t stop,” I gasped as h
is mouth enclosed my nipple, “oh, Frank, don’t stop.”

  A bell was ringing, the ship’s bell maybe, but Francis’ deft hands didn’t miss a beat. Between my legs now, and my breath came thick and fast. His mouth clamped tightly over mine, his tongue probing insistently between my open lips as his fingers caressed knowingly beneath my skirts. Grabbing his buttocks I pulled him to me. “Do it now.”

  His hand disappeared from between my legs, leaving me feeling abandoned, exposed. He was fidgeting with something and I realised he was untying the laces on his trousers. His mouth was on my body, urgent and full of desire and a hot hardness appeared between my legs; searching and probing, gaining entry with a thrust and a moan. His hands were kneading the soft flesh of my breasts and I gripped his buttocks tight, moving and groaning with his rhythm.

  Suddenly his hand was on my shoulder, shaking my lightly from side to side “Kate,” he muttered, his mouth on my ear, “Kate, wake up.”

  He shook me again. “Kate.”

  The images in my mind faded, a blackness descending as I found myself once more in reality. Fighting hard, I tried to recapture my dream, but it was gone and in frustration I opened my eyes to find myself lying on my bed in my parent’s house. Of course, I’d been exhausted and had gone to lie down. Frank had held me, stroking my hair, murmuring comforting nonsensicals as I allowed sleep to take me away. And then …

  I pushed myself up onto my elbow and turned to face the man lying beside my. He was staring back, a bemused look on his face. “Feeling better?”

  I nodded, “you woke me up, what’s happened? What’s the time?”

  He rubbed his face, erasing the bewilderment, leaving him looking decidedly amused. “It’s almost midnight and the phone was ringing downstairs. Seemed a bit late for a phone call, thought it might be news.”

  I sat up as the sound of footfalls on the stairs answered my unspoken queries and by mutual consent we moved away from each other’s embrace. The door was flung open moments later to reveal my pyjama-clad dad. An expression of distaste crossed his face when he saw Frank but it was soon replaced with a look of profound relief and I jumped up and ran to him.

  “Dad? What is it?”

  He grasped my hand, “they’ve found them, love. They’ve found the kids.”

  Chapter thirty six

  5 January

  I peered out the windscreen pulling impatiently at my seatbelt.

  “Won’t be long now, love.”

  I nodded to dad, not trusting myself to speak. Anger and fear was bubbling just below the surface, waiting until I was reassured the kids were safe, then all hell was going to break loose. Not trusting the stability of my emotions, I decided my best option was to keep my mouth closed.

  At least until I came face to face with Will.

  I sighed heavily, wishing with all my heart that Frank was here, sharing his strength and positivity, but I’d sent him back to his hotel. God knows what Will would do if he saw Frank.

  “You need your rest,” I’d murmured to him. “All this stress can’t be good for you.”

  He’d shrugged, “you’re more important, you and the baby. If you need me, I’d come in a heartbeat.”

  He would; regardless of the danger to himself he would do anything for me.

  I’d hugged him, ignoring my parents’ disapproving looks. “Dad and I can handle this. I need you fit and strong in a few months … when the baby comes.”

  Frank had kissed me on the cheek. “There is just one thing,” he’d whispered, a strange smile on his face. “That dream you were having,” the smile turned into a wide grin, “you really should stop talking in your sleep, Kate. Now I’m dying to hear all about Pirate Frank.”

  My face went bright red, I could feel my cheeks burn.

  Frank pinched me lightly on the bottom. “Ahoy there, me hearties,” he’d called to mum and dad, leaving them looking bemused.

  In the dark car I snorted quietly, my parents already had an ambiguous opinion of Frank and that final comment really hadn’t helped. The looks on their faces, though … priceless was an understatement.

  “You all right, love?”

  I cleared my throat, willing my emotions to remain intact for a few more minutes. “Tell me again what the manager said.”

  Dad slowed for traffic lights and glanced at me. “He said Will had been in the bar since six o’clock, vodka seemed to be his drink of choice. They had a meal and … Kate, maybe you should wait in the car while I go in and speak to the manager. I can bring the kids out –”

  “No!”

  “Kate –”

  “I said no. Now tell me what else he said.”

  Dad sighed, “the bar was quiet tonight and apparently the kids fell asleep fairly early on. Will became drunk and abusive but they couldn’t throw him out, as they’d normally do, because of Kensie and Tom.”

  “Bloody irresponsible –”

  “So, the manager gave Will an ultimatum; let him call someone to pick the kids up or he’d call the police.”

  “What about Will?” I was seething, unable to believe my husband had done such a thing to his own children.

  Dad shrugged, “we’ll find out soon enough. We’re here. Kate? Go easy, love. The main thing is the kids are safe and they don’t need to see you fighting their dad.”

  Unbuckling the seatbelt, I turned to my father. “Don’t worry, dad. Will can wait. What I want to know is why they let Will drink so much when he was supposed to be looking after two young children. They should have called the police.”

  Dad pushed open his door, “come on, love. Let’s just get the kids and get them into bed. The rest can wait until morning.”

  As I walked into the smoky atmosphere of the pub I was seething. What the hell was Will thinking, bringing our children into a place like this? At the door to the manager’s office I rapped sharply, before steaming in, all guns blazing.

  “Mummy?” The little voice came out of a darkened corner and I turned to find my daughter’s eyes staring at me, like a rabbit caught in a car’s headlights. “Mummy, we want to go home. Please take us home.”

  Tears pricked in my eyes and, ignoring the manager who had stood up as I entered, I reached for my children, pulling them into a tight hug, “I’m here now and I’ll take you home.” I glanced around the large room, “where’s daddy?”

  Kensie was clinging hard with one hand and holding tight to her little brother with the other, tears running unbidden down her face. She shook her head making her soft blonde curls flap crazily. “Don’t know. He’s gone, mummy.”

  Pushing Kensie’s hair off her face, I pulled both children close again. “that’s okay, princess. Let’s get home.”

  Dad materialised behind me and stated the obvious. “He’s gone.”

  “I can see that,” I whispered. “Where is he?”

  Ruffling Tom’s hair, Dad bent down and extracted the boy from his sister’s grip. Inclining his head towards the manager, he boosted Tom up onto his hip. “Geoff reckons he just disappeared. After he brought the kids in here, he called us then went back into the bar and Will was nowhere to be seen.”

  I frowned, “Will left them here? By themselves? Bloody idiot doesn’t deserve to be a father. When I get my hands on him –”

  “Kate!” Dad looked pointedly at Kensie who was staring, wide-eyed, and I bit off any further comments. Lifting my exhausted daughter into my arms I followed my father to the door.

  Walking past the manager, I scowled. “And where were you when all this was going on? What the hell were you thinking allowing this to happen?”

  “He came in for a meal,” the manager defended taking a step backwards. “Ain’t no laws against that, darlin’. Stuck the kids in a booth at the back and we forgot they was there. Sorry, darlin’, but it can’t be ’elped. No ’arm done, eh?”

  I took a step towards him and the manager gulped, his face loosing colour. “Can’t be helped?” I hissed. “No harm done? Look at them.” I turned slightly so Kensi
e’s face came into view, tearstained and terrified. “My daughter is traumatised, because you forgot.”

  Dad put a hand on my arm, restraining, controlling, “come on, love. Let’s go.”

  I stared at the young man for a few more seconds, my fingers itching to wrap themselves around his throat, scare him like he’d scared me, then with a contemptuous glare that made the manager’s white face turn green around the edges, I dismissed him and left the room.

  Hugging my daughter close, I strode back through the bar and out into the street. Where had everything gone wrong? I’d never even seen Will tipsy before, never mind drunk and abusive. And where was he? I leaned against my father’s car and stroked Kensie’s hair gently. What would Will get up to next?

  “Mummy, is daddy going to be okay?”

  Okay? Is he going to be okay? Bloody hell, I hope so. I pushed Kensie’s head back down onto my shoulder as Dad leaned across and unlocked the car door, “he’ll be fine,” I whispered as the tears broke free, rolling unheeded down my face to drop soundlessly into my daughter’s hair. “We’ll all be fine, princess. Come on, let’s go home.”

  Chapter thirty seven

  11 January

  I gazed forlornly at Frank, “are you sure you can’t stay a few more days.”

  Frank shook his head and patted the back of my hand, “I have to get back and sort a few things out. My oncologist’ll be wondering where I’ve got to.”

  I grimaced, “I’d almost forgotten about that.”

  Frank smiled, “don’t worry, I’m tough as old boots. Anyway, there are still some things we need to discuss.”

  “There are?”

  “Yes. But not here, not now. When you get back.”

  He was right, a crowded airport lounge wasn’t the place for that conversation. They would be calling his flight soon and then he’d be gone … and I’d be alone.