He was still shaking. ‘Hey, wee guy,’ I found myself saying gently. ‘You need a cuddle. Come on up here for a bit.’
He turned and I reached out my hand to him. He climbed the ladder and lay down alongside me. I wrapped my arms around him, as I had done with Tom when he was younger; he felt cold, even though the train’s air-con was only a partial barrier against the heat of the night, and he was still shivering. I held him tight, until his tremors began to subside, until he felt warmer, and calmer, and the pounding of his heart had slowed. I realised that my chest was damp, and that he had been crying.
‘Here now,’ I murmured. ‘It’s all right. It’s all right. Let me show you.’ I wrapped the sheet around us both. With the movement, my right nipple pressed against his parted lips: I felt him suck it, very gently, not voraciously, as Tom used to do. I was sure it was involuntary, rather than erotic. It didn’t excite me, yet I found it touching. What happened after that was probably inevitable, given all that we’d been through that day, and the state he was in. I slid my arm down his back as he lay there, motionless, found his underpants, eased them past his buttocks, and took them off with my left foot. I reached for him, and found him still shrivelled and flaccid, for all our proximity. I massaged him, gently at first, and then more firmly, as he began to stir. It took a little while, but eventually he was as ready as I reckoned he was going to get. I drew him on to me; he seemed to weigh hardly anything. His head was on my shoulder as I guided him to the entrance, and took him inside me, into my moistness. I ran my fingers through his hair, and began to move, slowly. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him deeper, until finally he responded, thrusting, and we were in rhythm.
It didn’t last long, and I didn’t have anything approaching an orgasm, not even after those years of total abstinence, but he did, or at least he came, for I’m told that’s not always one and the same thing for a guy. It wasn’t great sex, in fact it didn’t even approach good, but somehow it left me feeling at peace with myself, realising as he finished that until then, until that very moment, I hadn’t thought of the Algonquin, not once.
‘I’m sorry.’ He breathed the words in my ear.
I smiled. ‘Less of the sorry, okay? We’re going to get through this, and if we don’t, well, what the hell? We’ve eaten, we’ve drunk, and we’ve made merry.’
I slid out from under him and down the ladder. I filled the basin, washed myself thoroughly with one of the cloths and a small bar of soap, then dried myself with a hand-towel. When I climbed up again, he was on his back, sleeping like a baby, with a look on his face that would have become an angel. I reached over him, retrieved my small parcel of clothes, and took the bottom bunk.
Twenty-three
I still felt okay about it in the morning, when I woke just before seven, to the gentle rocking of the train as it pulled out of a station, Tarragona, I guessed, recalling the destination list I had seen as we got on.
I got out of my bunk and did some stretching exercises, as far as I could in the limited space. I washed the rest of myself, smeared my roll-on antiperspirant under my arms and on the inside of my thighs, then dressed.
By the time I was finished, and looking acceptable, Frank had begun to stir. He propped himself up on an elbow and looked down at me. ‘Morning.’ He yawned.
‘And to you. How do you feel?’
‘Fine. The tiger’s back, I promise.’ He paused. ‘Prim, about last night, I’m sorry.’
‘Listen,’ I replied, ‘I’m not going to shag you every time you say you’re sorry so give it up.’
He laughed. ‘Damn it,’ he said. ‘No, I didn’t mean that; it was lovely. What I meant was I’m sorry you saw me like that, but the truth is, all that stuff yesterday, it scared me shitless.’
‘And what’s wrong with that? How do you think I felt when I walked into that hotel room and saw Caballero holding a gun on me, or when you told me the truth about the Canadian and his mate?’
‘I meant to ask you about them,’ he told me. ‘When you met them in that restaurant, did you tell them why you were in Seville?’
‘Hell, no. I told them I was a single mum playing the tourist for a few days, while my aunt minded my child.’ The implication of that dawned on me as I spoke. ‘Oh, shit! I told them where they could find your mother. Frank, I’m so sorry.’
‘Now you’re at it,’ he exclaimed. ‘Prim, you weren’t to know. Don’t give it another thought, please.’
‘That’ll be difficult; shooting my mouth off to two strangers. What was I thinking of?’
‘Nothing, forget it.’ He swung his legs over the edge of the bunk, and sat there, looking down at me. He had a small erection. . not that he could ever have a large one, to tell you the truth. . and in the full light of day, that made me feel a little awkward, and want to get out of there.
‘I’ll make room for you to get washed and dressed,’ I volunteered. ‘I’m off to the restaurant car for breakfast. I’ll order for you. Coffee and croissants enough?’
‘That’ll be fine.’
I left him to it and made my way along the train. As I sat down at a table for two, I realised I wasn’t sure whether I should be feeling like a whore or a social worker. I settled for the latter, and gave my double order to the waiter.
I had finished mine and was contemplating scoffing Frank’s croissant when he arrived. He must have been carrying a razor in his rucksack. . or maybe the Swiss Army knife did that job too. . for the slight stubble he had been sporting was gone. He had changed into a white T-shirt, so new it almost gleamed: I could see creases, as if to confirm that it had just come out of its wrapping. His hair was perfectly groomed and he smelled of something I thought I recognised as Aramis.
‘I wonder where we’ll be having breakfast tomorrow,’ he said, as he sat.
‘With respect, Frank,’ I told him, ‘I hope I’ll be having breakfast in Monaco with my son and his half-siblings, and that you’ll be safely reunited with Auntie Ade.’ It had occurred to me that maybe the smartest thing for me to do when the train pulled into Barcelona was to jump into the first available taxi, head for the airport, reclaim my Jeep and drive as fast as I could out of the Dodge Goddamned City that my life was threatening to become.
The croissant stopped halfway to his gob, as if he had read my mind. ‘I hope so too, love, but I need you with me when I go to see Justin.’
I frowned at him. ‘First, please don’t call me “love”. For the avoidance of doubt, what happened last night happened mainly because I felt sorry for you, and partly, I suppose, because I haven’t had sex for going on three years. Second, why is it so important that I go with you?’
‘Corroboration,’ he replied. ‘What the security services and Interpol tried to do through me and Gresch, and the way we were sold out from within the organisation, has massive implications. Governments have fallen for less, and Justin’s a member of the bloody government. But he’s a highly moral guy, not the sort to let a wrong go uncorrected. I can persuade him to take this to the highest level, but he’ll need both of us to tell our stories. If heads are to roll over this. . and they bloody well will, or my name’s not Frances with an “e”. . it’ll take your evidence as well as mine to convict them.’
I couldn’t argue with his reasoning; also, I thought of the weakness he’d revealed the night before. It was more than a possibility that whatever inner strength had sustained him though six weeks in hiding had been exhausted, and that he needed to draw on any resources I had in that department. ‘Right,’ I said, ‘I’ll come with you. Hopefully, he’ll arrange protection for us, and organise a proper search for Auntie Ade.’
‘Thanks. I appreciate it.’