Breach of Faith

by Andrea Hughes

  Through the shock and pain I felt someone push me hard, heard the footsteps disappear down the hall as I bounced off the wall, landing painfully on the stairs behind.

  There was one final moment of rational thought as the heat from the bullet wound was joined by another, much more ominous, hot wetness between my legs.

  I’m going to die, I thought again and, surprisingly, the idea wasn’t entirely unwelcome. What did concern me was something I was willing to fight to my last breath.

  I’m going to die and Frank’s baby is going to die too …

  Chapter fifty one

  18 May

  When I was sixteen, I did something I had never done before, and had never contemplated doing since.

  I asked a boy to dance.

  Matthew had said yes but he’d been a bloody awful dancer. Frank, on the other hand, was one of the best dancers I’d ever had the pleasure of holding.

  I looked up into his eyes and once again I was drowning; sinking deeper and deeper into Frank’s fathomless blue eyes, seemingly never to emerge again.

  The ballroom was grand, old-fashioned in style, with huge pillars around the edge and a magnificent dance floor. A large staircase wound it’s way up to the first floor from one corner of the room. It reminded me of a beautiful palace, and I was guest of honour.

  Frank led me in a waltz, covering every inch of the floor, my stunning red ball-gown swishing prettily, encasing me in silk and lace. We made a very fine couple, me in my full-length gown and Frank in his jet black tuxedo. A very fine couple indeed.

  The waltz music ended, momentary silence filled the room as Frank loosened his hold on me slightly. “Are you tired? Would you like to stop for a drink?”

  The lone pianist on the other side of the large room ignored us as he lost himself in another tune, not a waltz this time but a beat I didn’t recognise, a stunningly haunting piece that sent a shiver up my spine. I nodded and Frank linked his arm in mine, leading me to a single table in the corner beneath the staircase. On the table was a bottle of champagne and two crystal champagne flutes, glinting in the glittering lights.

  With a boyish grin Frank pulled out one of the chairs, waiting for me to be seated before pouring a drink and sitting down himself. With a raised eyebrow and half a smile he held up his glass.

  “To your health,” he murmured, softly touching his glass to mine with a chime of crystal clarity.

  “You are beautiful, Kate.” He reached across the table and took my hand, running his finger lightly around my palm, the touch turning my bones to liquid. I was ready to melt. This was the best dream ever.

  The bottle was nearly empty when Frank made his move. Pushing back his chair he stood up, moving around behind me, and leaned over my shoulder. “Come on,” he whispered, his breath tickling my cheek. “I’ve got something to show you.”

  His aroma was champagne and cinnamon, pine cones and summer days, clean and fresh just as I remembered. He led me up the staircase, his arm slung around my waist, holding me tight. When we reached the top he stopped outside a heavy, wooden door.

  “Your room awaits, my lady,” he bowed in mock chivalry and opened the door to a sight that took my breath away; a chamber so magnificent that I stopped on the threshold, struck dumb by the beauty before me.

  “Silk,” I murmured finally and turned bright eyes to Frank. “Silk everywhere.”

  Frank nodded, his smile lighting up his handsome face. “Silk and gold, crystal and platinum, and the most comfortable four-poster bed you’ve ever rested your tired bones on.”

  Tears were threatening and I gave him a wonky smile, “it’s beautiful, Frank.”

  “It’s all for you, my love, all for you,” and he swept me up into his arms, carrying me over the threshold and into the elegant room.

  I giggled in surprise, ducking my head as we glided past the door frame. Frank kicked the door closed, dropping me on the bed making me grunt. “It’s like being on our honeymoon, don’t you think? And you know what newly married couples do on their wedding night.” He winked salaciously and kissed me lightly on the lips. “Now, my lovely bride, it’s time for a glass of something bubbly.”

  I smoothed my gown down over my body, “are you trying to get me drunk?”

  “A little tipsy, maybe.” Grinning, Frank took his jacket and tie off, throwing them on the end of the bed, loosening his collar in obvious relief. He turned towards the bedside table where another bottle of champagne awaited us. “You won’t get drunk.”

  Taking a glass, I sipped the icy drink as Frank sat beside me. I could feel his thigh pressing lightly against mine, feel his movements as he lifted his own glass to his lips. I could sense his eyes on me, caressing me with warmth and love.

  I turned to him. “What happens now?”

  He disposed of my empty glass and took my hand in his own as I leaned against his shoulder. I closed my eyes, feeling his lips plant a gentle kiss onto the top of my head.

  “That’s up to you, Kate. We could stay here like this all night; sitting, talking, drinking champagne. Or,” he smiled, “we could get naked and do unmentionable things to each other.” He ran his fingers through my hair, tilting my head back, then kissed me.

  My muscles turned to jelly.

  “So, what’s it to be, beautiful lady?” Frank murmured, his mouth hot on my ear, and my nipples tingled in anticipation. He shifted position, his lips now brushing my cheek. “Shall I pour another glass? Or …”

  His hand was on my back, slowly drawing down the zip on my dress. I moaned softly as his mouth engulfed mine once again, catching his flicking tongue with my own. The tingle in my nipples had spread and was now entertaining itself in a place a bit lower down.

  Not releasing my lips, Frank slid the straps of my dress off my shoulders exposing my black satin bra. I wriggled out of the dress as Frank’s hands roamed across the curves and contours of my body, following the line of hip and breast, caressing my satin nipple playfully.

  My shaking fingers began to undo the buttons on Frank’s shirt; I was finding it difficult to breath, the arousal threatening to consume me.

  Shrugging off his shirt, Frank reached around to unclasp my bra. “Let me see you, Kate. Let me see you one last time.” He released my breasts from their satin prison, holding them, massaging their soft plumpness. I moaned again as he took one of my nipples into his mouth, doing things with his tongue that I’d only ever dreamed about.

  As I lay back onto the bed with Frank’s naked body above me, I began to understand what pure ecstasy really was.

  This was the most realistic dream EVER.

  *

  Frank poked me playfully in the ribs, making me giggle in surprise. “Are you warm enough?”

  Most of the bed clothes had ended up on the floor, only the sheet remained and I snuggled closer to Frank’s hot body, my breasts squashing against him still glistening with a layer of sweat. “I feel like I’ll never cool down again,” I joked.

  Frank was stroking my back and I sighed in bliss. “Does this ever have to end? Please tell me we can be like this forever.”

  Frank’s hand stilled and he kissed my curls. “Be careful what you wish for, Kate, it might just come true.”

  I lifted my head off his shoulder, “what do you mean?”

  Frank looked sad, “I was hoping for a little bit longer before this happened.”

  I propped myself up on my elbow and frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Frank sighed heavily and kissed my forehead. “Lie down, Kate, on your back. That’s right. Now look up, straight up at the ceiling.”

  I did as I was told and studied the ceiling rose high above me, then grinned and turned to Frank, raising one eyebrow in query. “Is this just a sordid ruse to get me flat on my back so you can have your wicked way again.”

  Frank answered my smile with one of his own but it didn’t reach his sad eyes. “Kate, if you think I can manage that again after our last effort then you are sadly mistaken. Now, look up, woman,
and concentrate.”

  So I shrugged and looked up, my eyes opening wide at the sight that awaited me. Risking a glance towards Frank lying close beside me I gestured vaguely up at the ceiling. “What is that?”

  It was amazing, pictures were moving over the bed, as if someone was projecting them onto a screen, like at the cinema. Except the screen was a ceiling and the projectionist had to be Frank, ‘cause it sure as hell wasn’t me.

  I sensed, rather than saw Frank’s smile. “You don’t have to whisper, they can’t hear you.”

  “How are you doing that?” I squinted at the ceiling, trying to make out more detail.

  “Just relax,” Frank advised, “it’ll get clearer if you stop trying to force it.”

  It was one of the weirdest situations I had ever found myself in. The image was fuzzy but I could make out a hospital room, expensive machines surrounding the single bed. I was watching from above, as if sitting on the light bulb or floating on the ceiling. In the bed lay a body; dead? alive? I didn’t know.

  It felt like I was spying on the hazy figure and forced the thought from my mind, trying to relax further. Frank’s fingers were searching for mine under the sheet and I grabbed and held on hard. As the image slowly sharpened, the floating feeling intensified and I shivered with mild vertigo.

  “Who is it?” I whispered.

  “You’ll see,” Frank’s voice sounded loud in the silence of the room.

  I squeezed his hand, “well, you’re no bloody help.”

  “Just keep watching.”

  I fell silent; watching, waiting. The seconds ticked by with no movement from the hospital room beneath (above?) me. The picture was still hazy when suddenly the door to the hospital room opened and a man walked in, stopping beside the bed.

  “Bloody hell,” my fingers twitched in recognition and I felt Frank’s tighten in response. “What’s Will doing there? What’s going on?”

  Frank sighed, “keep watching, Kate.”

  Frustrated, I growled and stared at the ceiling where Will was standing by the bed, holding the hand of the person within, he seemed … sad? Angry? Confused?

  “Frank …?”

  “It’s you, Kate, in the bed.” Frank sounded resigned.

  “I don’t understand,” I stared at him.

  “Keep watching,” he ordered. “Kate, do you remember what happened before you came here?”

  I frowned, watching as Will sat on a chair beside the bed. This was all getting way too weird. “I can’t remember anything about what I’ve been doing recently. I know who I am and the people in my life but I can’t recall specific details about what I’ve been doing. But this is a dream, right? Just a dream.”

  Frank’s fingers twitched. “Not entirely. You’re dying, Kate.”

  “What?” I sat up in bed, pulling my hand from his and turned to stare at the man beside me. Feeling suddenly exposed I pulled the sheet up to cover my breasts, holding the silk tight against my skin. “What the hell are you going on about? I’m not dying, I’m dreaming, that’s all.”

  “Kate, lie down,” he turned onto his side leaning up on his elbow and patted the bed beside him.

  “No! You’ve got to tell me what the hell is going on. What the bloody hell are you talking about?”

  He sighed again, “Kate, do you remember I died?”

  I frowned, suddenly feeling like a spectator in my own life, someone who had walked in half way through the performance.

  “And the burglar, with the gun … he doesn’t jog your memory in the slightest?”

  I flopped back down onto the bed. Will was still hanging around on the ceiling, giving me a bizarre perspective problem, making me feel giddy. I stared as my husband leaned over the immobile, bed-ridden figure and with gentle fingers pushed the hair back off her face.

  “What about the baby, Kate? Do you remember her?”

  “My baby,” I whispered, my hand automatically rubbing my belly. I shoved the covers down, exposing my naked body to below the waist. The bulge of advanced pregnancy had gone, disappearing as if it had never been there. I pummelled at my stomach with both hands, feeling the tears well up in my eyes. “Our baby. Where is it, Frank? Where’s our baby?”

  Frank reached out, grasping my fists, “Kate, stop it. Look!”

  He gestured with his chin towards the ceiling where Paula had entered the hospital room carrying blankets. She spoke to Will, who nodded and took the blankets carefully from her.

  “Meet our daughter, Kate.” Frank’s voice was heavy with emotion.

  I gasped as a tiny face came into view, wrapped securely in my husband’s arms, peeping out from behind a flap of the blanket. “Is she …” my voice cracked and I cleared my throat.

  Frank pulled the sheet back over my body. “She’s perfect, Kate. Beautiful.”

  “What about me?” I turned to Frank, “what happened?”

  He was staring at the tiny body in Will’s arms. “So beautiful,” he whispered, “just like her mother.”

  “Frank? What happened?”

  Still gazing at the baby, Frank let out a heavy breath. “You disturbed a burglar when you came home yesterday. He panicked and shot you here.” He placed his fingers on my body, just above the swell of my breast. “When you fell you crashed into the stairs and started to bleed. You almost lost the baby, Kate.”

  I rubbed absently at the spot Frank had just pointed out on my chest, feeling a shiver run the length of my spine. I reached out and grabbed his hand again.

  “I was bleeding?”

  Frank sniffed and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “The placenta had ripped away from the side of the uterus –”

  “Placenta Abrupta?”

  “The baby was distressed and needed to be born straight away. You were so lucky, Kate, both of you. If Martha had been any further away she might have ignored the gunshot thinking it was something else.”

  “Martha?” My eyes strayed once more towards the ceiling where Will was still sitting silently beside the bed, my baby in his arms. Was he crying?

  “When Martha heard the gunshot she turned around to see what was going on. She saw the man run out of your house and ran back to check it out.” He hesitated, “a few more seconds, Kate, she’d have been at her car, and unlikely to take any notice of the noise. You’d be dead.”

  “Dead?”

  “You and the baby. Anyway, you were rushed to hospital and stabilised, the baby was born by caesarean and now …”

  “Now?”

  “Now you need to return, Kate; you need to get back there and live. Your shell,” he pointed towards the ceiling in illustration, “can’t survive much longer without you, the life force, what some people call your soul. If you stay here your earth-bound body will die.”

  “So if I stay here now, with you, I can stay with you forever?”

  Frank shrugged, “in theory, maybe. But there’s someone else who needs you a lot more than I ever will. I’m dead, there’s nothing that anyone can do to change that but our baby is alive and she needs you. She’s lost me, don’t take away her mother as well.”

  He hugged me suddenly, long and hard, his strong arms full of love and sorrow, passion and despair. “I love you so much, Kate, so much that it hurts.” He released me just enough so he could look deep into my eyes. “If I was alive and I had to live without you, I honestly don’t know that I could. I don’t think I’d want to.” I opened my mouth to answer but Frank’s finger on my lips silenced me. “Don’t say a word, please, just let me be with you, let me love you, one last time.”

  I could feel the tears running unbidden down my face as Frank’s mouth came down onto mine. Our tears were mingling on my cheeks, running like a river into the hollows of my ears, soaking into the pillow beneath my head. I closed my eyes as his body slid on top of mine, his hardness between my legs asking, begging: let me love you, Kate. Let me be with you one last time.

  My legs opened, my hips thrusting gently towards him, the answer given with no
reserves: love me, Frank. Share yourself and let me share everything I have with you.

  Gently he slid inside, his caresses making me gasp and moan, his hardness fitting into my moist softness as if we’d been cast from mirror images of the same mould. As the sexual release took over I shook and screamed, clinging to him, but his sobs were a long way away, his words incoherent and as the orgasm finally wiped out all reality, I understood what he was trying to tell me as I fell through the air, away from my lover.

  Tell her I love her, Kate. Tell her …

  … goodbye.

  Chapter fifty two

  24 May

  “Well, that looks great, Kate. All healing nicely.”

  I smiled at the doctor and pulled my gown down over my stomach. The discomfort from my caesarean was more of a dull ache now, leaving me tired but relatively pain free.

  Physically.

  Emotionally and psychologically? Possibly scarred for life but who’s counting.

  The doctor pulled my sheet back up and patted my shoulder reassuringly. “You know, I reckon we might just let you escape from this prison tomorrow.”

  I nodded solemnly, wishing he would leave quickly. “If I promise not to ask for extra dessert tonight will you sign my way to freedom?”

  The doctor grinned and made a note on my chart. “I’ll definitely consider it. Get some rest, I’ll be back later.” And with a jaunty wave he swept out.

  I felt myself relax and for the thousandth time found myself staring at the ceiling, hoping for … what? A glimpse of Frank? A replay of our final moments together? Maybe even a view of the future, a future without him.

  I knew it would never happen; things like that only happened in dreams, or death. Only my memories remained now; my memories and my beautiful baby. Tearing my eyes away I gazed instead onto the sleeping face of Frank’s daughter in the cradle beside the bed.

  “She’s beautiful, Kate.”

  The familiar voice was welcome and I smiled, dragging my eyes from the baby. “I’m getting my parole tomorrow. The doctor just told me.”

  Martha grinned and leaned over to kiss me on the cheek in greeting. “I’m so pleased. You must have been going stir crazy stuck in here.” She peered into the cradle and touched the baby’s cheek gently with the tip of her finger. “She’s got Frank’s eyes, I think, Frank’s eyes and your chin, I’m sure of it.”