Past Life

by C S Winchester

  Frankie rolled her eyes, knowing she had heard every word of their conversation.

  “I'm afraid I have a prior engagement that slipped my mind, Mrs Wright.” Alex said.

  “But I thought you were joining us for dinner?”

  “I said I would see what Frankie thought of the idea and clearly she isn't keen.”

  “Don't be silly, Alex. Frankie's just had a long day; she'd love for you to come to dinner with us, wouldn't you, darling?”

  At that point her father joined them. Frankie knew how much he hated fighting and so she bit her tongue.

  “I think Alex is busy, Mum.”

  “I'm sure he can make time for you,” her mother assured her.

  Alex again tried to make an excuse, but her mother cut him off and he ended up going out with them. Her father drove, insisting that it was his turn.

  Though Alex had tried to respect her wishes and leave, now that he was invited he seemed determined to make a good impression on her parents, insisting they dine at the Witchery restaurant, a very exclusive and expensive restaurant in town.

  Frankie was under-dressed for the place but she didn't care. The restaurant didn't seem to mind either, only her mother looked upset by her attire. Frankie ignored her snide remarks.

  “I hope you have something nicer in your wardrobe for Angela's wedding,” her mother said as they looked over the menus.”

  “I'm not going to the wedding.”

  “Why ever not?”

  “Let's see, shall we. One, I hate weddings. Two, I have nothing to wear and three, I wasn't invited.”

  “Of course you're invited. You must not have given Angela your address, so she sent the invitation to us.”

  “And you RSVP'd for me without even asking me?”

  “She's your cousin, I shouldn't need to ask.”

  “Oh, Mum, that is wrong on so many levels. Not to mention, illegal. You aren't allowed to open someone else's post.”

  “Don't be silly, sweetheart, it's only a letter.”

  “Which wasn't addressed to you- Oh forget it,” she groaned. “I'm not going, so you'll just have to make my apologies for me.”

  “If it's an issue of having no one to take, I'm sure Alex here would escort you.”

  “It's not that, Mum, trust me.”

  “Well I think it's rather dour of you not to celebrate your own cousin's marriage just because you can't keep a man.”

  Frankie excused herself to go to the bathroom and called Will.

  “Frankie, how's the investigation going on your end.”

  “It isn't. I'm sorry, Will, I'm trapped in The Dinner From Hell with my mother and my ex-boyfriend. I just needed to hear a friendly voice.”

  “That bad?”

  “Worse. I am this close to killing her.”

  “Do you want me to call with an emergency?”

  “Oh, that's very tempting but no. I should see this through. Plus I have more case files to read through later. Any luck your end?”

  “Not really. The tip line has received a lot of calls, but we haven't found any wheat among the chaff yet.”

  “Are you still at work?”

  “No, I brought the file home, but I'm just about to pop open a beer and nuke a TV dinner.”

  “Oh, sounds like heaven.”

  “Well you're very welcome to join me.”

  “Thank you,” she sighed, “but I'd better get back to the table. They think I've gone to the loo. Oops, I mean the ladies room.”

  “Okay, I'll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah. Night, Will.”

  “G'night, Frankie. And remember, don't kill anyone.”

  Frankie smiled and hung up. As she sat down at the table again, she found that her mother was giving Alex the fifth degree. They were discussing his nightclub at present.

  Alex looked uncomfortable but he was, as usual, impeccably polite.

  Somehow Frankie managed to hold onto her temper and make it through the rest of the dinner without incident. Alex tried to pay for the meal but Frankie insisted, very firmly, on picking up the tab herself.

  Her father drove them home, and Frankie felt a wave of relief wash over her as they pulled into the driveway and she got out of the car.

  Her relief was short lived, however since the next words out of her mothers mouth were, “So, Alex, will you join us for nightcap?”

  Frankie clenched her hands into fists.

  “I'd love to, Mrs Wright, but I really must be going.”

  “Nonsense, just a quick drink. I won't take no for an answer.”

  Alex looked to Frankie, seeking her permission.

  “Oh, don't worry about Francis, she'd love you to join us,”

  That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

  “Actually, Mum, no, I wouldn't. Alex is my ex-boyfriend and you have no right to invite him into my home or out to dinner with us. I don't know if you think you're helping, or if you just can't stand to see me making a choice that you don't like but either way, this is my life and I'd appreciate it if you would respect my decisions and stop trying to control me.”

  Her mother looked devastated. “Why would you say such hurtful things?”

  “Because they're true! If you cared about me at all, why would you try and hurt my by making me sit through dinner with my ex? Couldn't you see how hard that meal was for me?”

  “How could I?” her mother became angry. “You don't show any emotion, you hide everything from me, how can you expect me to know how you feel?”

  “Because you're a human being, Mum, and you should have some empathy! Don't you remember how painful it is to break up with someone? Even if you don't remember it, can't you imagine? This is someone I loved, someone who hurt me badly. Why on earth would you think I want to spend time with him? Don't you think it's distressing to see you fawning all over him? Essentially choosing someone who betrayed me, over me?”

  “Don't be so melodramatic, Francis.”

  “It's Frankie!” She was about to continue with her tirade, but suddenly the fight went out of her. “You know what? I've had enough, Mum. You don't respect me, you don't understand me and sometimes I don't even think you like me. I've had it with your emotional blackmail and trying to force your ideals on to me. I'm going for a walk and when I get back, I want you gone.”

  “Where are we supposed to go at this time of night?” her mother cried.

  Frankie shrugged. “I don't care.”

  “Well we won't go. We're your parents, not rubbish that you can just throw out when you're done with us.”

  “Okay, fine. You stay here, take over my house the same way you've tried to take over my life. I'll go.” She went into the house, ran upstairs and began throwing things into a bag. When she came down five minutes later, everyone was waiting for her in the hall.

  “Frankie,” her father began.

  “Sorry, Dad, but if I stay here I'll do something I'll regret. Call me and let me know when you're gone.”

  Her mother tutted but Frankie ignored it.

  Alex was still waiting outside.

  “Frankie, I'm so sorry.”

  “Tonight wasn't your fault,” she assured him. “This has been brewing for years.”

  “That's kind of you but I still feel responsible. You're welcome to stay with me if you'd like.”

  Frankie was tempted by the offer, since his apartment was almost as free from psychic impressions as her own home, but she didn't want to feel indebted to him or give him the wrong impression.

  “Thank you but I'm okay.” She turned to her car but hesitated and turned back. “Please don't come back, Alex. I realise that you don't want to accept that things are over between us, but they are and you need to move on.”

  “Don't say that, Frankie.”

  “It needs saying. Maybe when things aren't so raw we can be friends, but that won't be any time soon.”

  Alex nodded his understanding. “Okay. If you ever need me, Frankie, just call. No strings, I promise.
”

  “Thank you,” she said as graciously as she could, even though it would be a cold day in hell before she asked for his help.

  Alex left and Frankie got into her car and drove to Will's apartment.

  Will lived in Roseburn Maltings, which was wasn't far from the crime scene they had been at that morning. He buzzed her in and was waiting at the front door by the time she got up to his apartment. He saw the overnight bag she was carrying and did a double take.

  “Wait a second, they kicked you out of your own home?”

  “She wouldn't leave, so I had to.”

  “Need a hug?” Will opened his arms. She nodded and stepped into his embrace, careful not to touch his skin.

  “So, is Orphan Annie looking for a place to stay?”

  Frankie nodded.

  “Well, as long as you stay this quiet, you're more than welcome.”

  Frankie stepped away, smiling. “Sorry.”

  “It's okay. I remember dating you, I know you tend to shut down when confronted with uncomfortable emotions.”

  “Okay, Dr Phil, if you're going to psychoanalyse me I'm leaving,” she joked as she turned back towards the lift.

  “Psychotherapy is just a bonus, not part of the package,” he said grabbing her gloved hand. “Come on, let's get you a drink.”

  “Best therapy I've found.”

  In the kitchen he used the dishcloth to get out a disposable plastic cup for her. He'd bought them exclusively for her once he'd learned about her gift, since all his crockery was very well used and as such full of psychic impressions.

  “Are we going,” he asked. “Low class, middle class or depraved alcoholic?”

  When they dated that had been code for beer, wine or whisky.

  “Depraved alcoholic, please.”

  He poured her a large measure of whisky and settled her in the living room as he went flying around the flat, looking in various cupboards and and drawers.

  “Can I help?” Frankie asked, wondering what he was looking for.

  “I'm good, thanks.”

  A few minutes later he came into the living room holding piles of bedding and wearing marigold gloves.

  “That's a good look for you,” she smiled at the yellow gloves. “Women love a domesticated man.”

  “Very funny.” He put the bedding down beside her. “This is all the sheet, quilt and pillow covers I have. Some are a bit worn; I was only keeping them to use as dust sheets, but being older they might have fewer psychic impressions left.”

  Frankie felt her eyes tear up; the contrast between Will and her mother was startling. Will was going out of his way to make her comfortable and accommodate her gift, whereas her mother did everything she could to make Frankie conform to her own ideals, regardless of Frankie's comfort.

  “Thank you,” she said, genuinely touched by his consideration.

  “No tears,” he teased her. “This is a bachelor pad and I won't stand for emotional outbursts,”

  Frankie laughed. “Not even from all those women whose hearts you break?”

  “Aye, well that's good for a man's ego.”

  Frankie pulled her gloves off and began sorting through the linens until she found a set that she thought she could sleep on.

  “I'll make up the spare bed for you,” he said.

  “Don't, I can do that later. Just sit down and relax for a while.”

  They sat in companionable silence for most of the evening, watching a cooking show and an American forensics series before they decided to hit the sack. It was only 11pm, which was early by Frankie's standards, but it had been a long and emotionally exhausting day.

  Though she normally slept naked, Frankie dressed in sweatpants and T-shirt, so that if there were any psychic impressions left on the bedding, they most likely wouldn't come into contact with her skin.

  She half expected the fight with her mother to keep her awake but in the event, she was asleep just minutes after climbing under the covers.

  She awoke to the sound of the Scissor Sisters singing I Can't Decide, the ring tone she used for Dante. She looked at the screen on her phone which informed her it was 4.22am.

  “This had better be good,” she said by way of a greeting as she answered the call.

  “Help me... Poisoned.”

  There was a loud crash on his end and Frankie bolted upright in bed.

  “Dante? Dante!”

  Chapter Nine

  Frankie heard a crashing sound and the call ended just as Will rushed into her room, having been awoken by her cries.

  “What's wrong?” he asked.

  “Something's happened to Dante.” She began pulling her socks and boots on.

  “What?”

  “He said poison.”

  “Vampires can be poisoned?”

  “I don't know,” she stood up and pushed past him. “I've got to get over there.”

  “I'm coming with you.”

  Frankie didn't argue but she didn't wait for him either. She grabbed her bag and coat as she left, awkwardly pulling the coat on as she ran down the stairs. He was slower than her as he had to pull some shoes on, but he caught up with her by her car and got into the passenger side.

  The drive to Dante's apartment took entirely too long for her tastes, and she broke far too many traffic laws for Will's taste but, by some miracle they didn't encounter a police car. At Dante's, Frankie stopped on the double yellow lines outside and ran straight to the main door.

  “Shit!” she exclaimed as she realised they needed to be buzzed in. She pressed Dante's buzzer just in case he could answer but she didn't wait for a reply. She ran to her car, opened the boot and pulled a canvas bag out. Will stayed out of her way and watched her.

  She pulled something that resembled a small gun out and threw the bag back. She put the barrel of the gun against the lock and pulled the 'trigger' three times.

  Will heard the lock click and Frankie pulled the door open.

  They took the lift up to the top floor, and for the first time since they had left Will's apartment, Frankie exercised caution.

  She swapped the lock pick gun for the real gun in her handbag, and slowly got out of the elevator. The hallway was clear but Dante's door was slightly ajar.

  Frankie carefully approached the door and went in quickly, her gun before her and her eyes scanning the room for threats.

  “Stay here,” she whispered as she checked the kitchen, then the bedroom. Lying on the bed was a young redheaded woman. She stared at Frankie with wide eyes.

  “Stay there,” Frankie ordered as she swept the remaining rooms. “Clear,” she called to Will. She put the safety on the gun and slipped it into her coat pocket for easy access. She sat on the bed, next to the woman there. She seemed to have been getting ready to leave since she was dressed, but in her haste she had missed a few buttons on her blouse. Beside the bed Frankie, could see the remains of Dante's phone. It looked as if it had been stamped on.

  “Who are you?” Frankie asked as Will appeared in the doorway.

  “Zoe. Zoe Mason.”

  “Okay, Zoe. What happened here?”

  “I don't know.” She looked as though she'd been crying.

  “Do you know where Dante is? Or Dan?” she amended, remembering how he usually introduced himself to new people.

  The girl shook her head.

  “Okay, tell me what you do remember.”

  “I came back here with Dan. We were...”

  “Having sex?” Frankie guessed. The girl nodded.

  “He was kissing my neck and it was... nice. Then he freaked and looked like he was ill. He called someone but then he collapsed.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I checked on him, then I ran into the other room but someone hit me and I fell down. When I got up, they were both gone and...”

  “And what?”

  “I went back to the bedroom to see if Dan was still there, and I saw my reflection in the mirror.”

  “I don't understand.�
��

  Zoe swallowed and pulled the neck of her shirt down to reveal bloodstains on her skin.

  “I think he bit me.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes. “I think he's a...”

  “A what?” Frankie played dumb.

  “A vampire.”

  Frankie tried not to show her frustration. This was another headache she didn't need.

  “That blood could have come from anywhere, it could even be his blood,” she reasoned. “You said he wasn't well, maybe he had a bleeding ulcer or something.”

  “But there are holes!” Zoe cried, “Look!”

  Thankfully the puncture wounds left by his Dante's teeth had completely healed over now.

  “Zoe, there are no holes. Come and look.” Frankie led a reluctant Zoe back to the mirror. “See.”

  Zoe traced her fingers over the now dried blood smear.

  “But there were,” she said softly. “I saw them.”

  “Or you'd just been through a traumatic event, knocked down, maybe hit your head and when you woke up, your concussed mind tried to fill in the blanks.”

  Zoe frowned, clearly doubting her own observations.

  “I guess.”

  “You came back here with Dan so you must have liked him and you two were having a good time. Does that sound like an evil vampire?”

  “No,” she sighed, letting go of her theory. “He was really sweet, actually. But where did he go?”

  Will, who had been watching up until now, stepped forward.

  “I'm sorry if you were scared Ma'am. I'm D.C.I. Campbell.” He showed her his I.D. “One of my officers entered this apartment this evening to arrest your boyfriend.”

  “He's not my boyfriend.”

  “Excuse me, your friend. Security let my officer in. He said he ran into you and knocked you over by accident, but he checked on you and you seemed fine. He found the suspect seriously ill in the bedroom and had no choice but to rush him to hospital. He called me to come and check on you.”

  “What's he being arrested for?”

  “Possible fraud.”

  Zoe nodded as if this made perfect sense.

  “Wow, what a crazy evening,” Zoe said.

  “Would you like us to give you a life home?” Will offered.

  “God, no. If my parents find out I was brought home by the police, I'll never live it down.”

  “You've had a bit of a shock, so why don't you go on home and try and get a good night's sleep,” Frankie suggested.