Lets Be Frank

Thin  strips  of  sunlight  pierced  through  the small  gaps  in  the  window  shutters.  I  rolled  onto  my side  spreading  my  arms  over  the  huge  double  bed,  hands  twitching  and  grasping  for  the  touch of  warm  flesh.   The  bed  was  cool  and  the  fragrance  of  perfume  lingered  in  the  air  around  the pillow,  I  cursed  under  my  breath  as  I  slipped  my  hand  to  my  crotch  loosening  the  strap  of  my pyjama  bottoms.  I snorted.  My  head  was  still  spinning  but  a  small  grin  spread  across  my unshaven  cheeks  as  memories  of  the  previous  night  started  to  filter  through  my  abused  mind. What  was  her  name,  bugger,  I  didn’t  even  remember  the  colour  of  her  hair. I  Finally  found  some  female  company  and  I  couldn’t  even  remember  where  the  bloody  hell  I  found  her.   Not  many  ladies  took  an  interest  in  me,  not  any  more,  not  since  I  lost  my  family.  My  family  isn’t  dead,  just  far  away.  Ironic  really,  I  could  get  any  piece  of  skirt  as  a  married  man  but  now  a quick  jerk  off  over  dirty  magazines  is  about  the  extent  of  my  sex  life.

Sat  across  the  room  on  a  slanting  shelf  was  a  photo  of  My  ex  wife,  a  shadow  of  the  woman who  I  once  knew.  It  was  placed  face  down  gathering  dust. I  had  not  allowed  my  eyes  to  gaze over  my  beloved  Jessica  for  such  a  time. Her  smile  blossomed  with  rosy  cheeks  glistening  in  the autumn  sun,  her  long  golden  brown  hair  falling  over   her shoulders  as  the  bitter  wind  whistled around,  hugging  her  gently  as  if  nature  herself  adored  her.  She  was  virtuous  and  beautiful.  Yet  I couldn’t  bring  myself  to  throw it out,  so  there  the  photo  remained,  the  only  piece  of  my  past life  that  I  still  possessed.

 Without  knowing  I  had  slipped  back  into  a  light  sleep,  snores  echoing  around  the  empty  flat  as snot  girdled  in  my  mouth.  Suddenly  there  was  a knock.  A  firm  hand  rattled  against  the  front  door  then  the  bell  rang.  I  jumped  up  coughing  and  spluttering,  Bloody  hell,   I  mumbled  as  I climbed  out  of  bed  and  slipped  into  a  shirt  I  scavenged  from  the  wash  basket.  I  opened  the  door.
Good  afternoon.  Spoke  a  young  policeman,  smartly  dressed  holding  a  note book  in  his  right hand.   Are  you  Mr.  Bell?
I  was  still  wiping  the  sleep  from  my  eyes  and  desperately  trying  to  avoid  breaking  wind.   Yes, that’s  me.  What’s  the  matter?
Well,   I  have  some  disturbing  news. I’m afraid  one  of  your  neighbours ,  David  Caldwell,  was  found dead  not  long  ago.
Who?  I  spat,  letting  out  a  quiet  fart  as  I  spoke.
David  Caldwell,  he  lived  only  a  few  doors  away  from  you.
Well  what’s  this  got  to  do  with  me? I  didn’t  fucking  know  him.
Your  neighbours  heard  some   commotion  early  last  night,  I  can’t  say  for  certain  but  we  think  the man  was  robbed,  his  back  window  was  smashed  from  the  outside.  Did  you  happen  to  hear  anything?
Quickly  realizing  the  gravity  of  a  man  being  found  dead  I  jumped  to  attention  and  poked  my head  out  the  front  door  and  surveyed  the  car  park  from  an  open  window.  Ambulances  and police  cars  were  parked  up  in  the  snow  with  curious  onlookers  loitering  around  the  rare  sight  of excitement.  No  officer,  didn’t  hear  a  thing. Robbed  you say?  Don’t  like  the  sound  of  that.
Of  course  this  is  tragic  news  but  please  if  you  remember  hearing  anything  call  me  on  this number.  The  officer  tore  out  a  page  from  his  note  book  and  handed  it  to  me.
Thank  you  officer,  I’ll  start  having  a  think.
It  will  be  much  appreciated.  He  said  as  he  turned  on  his  heels  and  strode  across  to  the  next door.
I  Studied  the  small  note.  Fancy  writing  I  thought,  then  just  screwed  it  up  into  a  little  ball  and tossed  it  at  the  bin.  It  missed  and  fell  onto  the  growing  pile  on  the  floor.

Later  that  day  I  took  a  quick  walk  though  the  local  park  to  help  clear  my  aching  head.  The district  looked  so  wonderful l in  snow,  the  trees  rustled  in  the  light  breeze  and  my  footsteps crunched  under  the  weight  of  me.
Not  surprisingly  all  I  could  think  about  was  David  Caldwell.  I  had  lived  in  those  flats  for  nearly five  years,  I  thought  I  knew  everyone,  Mrs.  Robbins  and  her  cats,  Joe  and  Sandra,  Billy  Campbell  and  his  daughter,  just  come  of  age  she  had  and  what  I  wouldn’t  do  to  get  her  into  bed.  I smiled  wickedly  then  drooped  back  into  my  thoughtful  shell.  Nope,  couldn’t  remember  or  recall anyone  on  my  estate  by  the  name  of  David  Caldwell.  Wonder  what  he  did?  Perhaps  he  worked early.  I  had  a  tendency  to  wake  up  long  after  midday  so  it  was  quite  possible  this  David  Caldwell  had  lived  there  and  I  hadn’t  even  been  aware  of  it.  However  I  suddenly  remembered Campbell’s  daughter  had  been  chatting  to  one  of  her  friends  about  some  bloke  she’s  been shagging,  someone  on  our  estate.  I  certainly  wished  it  was  me  I  thought  as  I  admired  her  from an  open  window,  smoking  innocently.  Perhaps  it  was  this  Caldwell,  I  certainly  knew  everyone else  was  too  ugly  and  too  old  to  get  that  piece  of  ass  into  bed,  must  have  been  Caldwell.
Unknowingly  I  had  walked  to  the  pond  and  was  just  standing  there  with  my  feet  half  pressed against  the  metal  fence  around  it.  A  young  man  walking  his  dog  gave  me  a  puzzled  look  as  he passed  me  by.   I  then  realized  I  had  never  bothered  to  walk  this  far  into  the  park.  The  pond was  quite  a  sight  frozen,  ducks  and  dogs  ran  across  the  slippery  surface  causing  all  sorts  of excitement,  a  group  of  young  children  found  it  hilarious,  laughing  and  wailing  as  one  dog  nearly tore  the  head  off  a  goose.

A  rare  sun  had  long  stayed  high  in  the  sky  but  as  the  day  wore  on  grey  clouds  rolled  off  the hills  and  engulfed  the  town  into  darkness.  Snowflakes  dropped  from  the  heavens  as  if  made  of stone  terrorizing  the  late  afternoon  traffic.  From  inside  the  warmth  of  my  flat  I  heard  the thunderous  honking  of  horns  and  shouting  of  foreign  languages.
 A  gentle  hand  lovingly  caressed  my  face  and  as  I  opened  my  eyes  a  slim  naked  figure  rolled  on top  of  me.  Laura  kissed  my  dry  lips  as  I  ran  my  hands  up  and  down  her  body,  my  fingers  felt every  bump  of  her  bones  then  I  quickly  retreated.
Not  again  babe,  I  can’t…  I’m  too  tired.
Tired!  Laura  exclaimed,  We’ve  barely  gotten  started.
What  do  you  mean? I  asked  sleepily.
You’ve  been  asleep  for  the  past half  hour.  If  you  don’t  want  a  fuck  then  I’ll  just  leave,  I  couldn’t  care  less.
 I  jumped  up  suddenly  quite  awake,  No,  no  don’t  go.  I  pleaded.  Stay  the  night,  I  don’t  feel  safe on  my  own,  not  since  I  heard  of  this  robbery.  Tom  Bailey  says  the  police  think  it  was  murder.
Oh  Frank,  just  lock  the  door  and  you’ll  be  fine,  you’re  forgetting  one  thing.  No  one  gives  a  shit about  you  and  you’ve  got  fuck  all  to  steal.  Said  Laura  bitterly.
 Oh  piss  off  then,  your  moneys  on  the  dresser  like  always.
Laura  got  up  off  the  bed  and  walked  out  the  room.  I  eyed  her  bare  backside  all  the  way.  A  few  moments  latter  there  was  a  sound  of  the  front  door  opening  then  slamming  shut,  the silence  and  darkness  was  all  I  had  for  comfort.  

Another   rattling  on  the  front  door  the  following  morning  awoke  me  from  my  light  sleep.  I twitched  and  jumped  as  each  thud  bore  deep  into  my  aching  head.   I  opened  the  door.
Good  afternoon.  It  was  the  same  policemen  from  the  day  before,  again  with  his  notepad.
What  the  fuck  do  you  want?  I  shouted  in  an  exhausted  rage.
I’m  terribly  sorry  to  disturb  you  but  are  you  Mr.  Bell?
What?  Is  this  some  kind  of  joke?  You  already  know  who  I  am  you  spoke  to  me  yesterday!
The  young  policemen  looked  bemused,  I’m  sorry  but  you  must  be  mistaken,  we  haven’t  met,  I certainly  didn’t  speak  to  you  yesterday.
Blimey,  you  policemen  are  bloody  useless.  Go  on  just  tell  me,  what  you want  now?  I  was rubbing  my  head,  the  throbbing  was  getting  worse.
Well  I  have  some  disturbing  news,  your  neighbour ,  David  Caldwell,  was  found  murdered  not  long ago.
My  mind  suddenly   fell  blank  and  my  jaw  dropped  a  little.
I  can  only  apologize  sir,  this  truly  is  dreadful  news.  Said  the  officer  in  a  weak  consoling  voice.
Did  you  know  him  well?
Stood  perplexed  I  slowly  shook  my  head.  No.  I  didn’t  know  him.
The  officer  handed  me  the  same  piece  of  paper  with  the  exact  same  hand  writing  perfectly scribbled  in  the  centre.  When  the  door  closed  and  the  wisp  of  frosty  air  faded  from  the  porch  I screwed  up  the  piece  of  paper  and  tossed  it  at  the  bin  were  it  hit  the  side  of  the  metal  rim and  fell  onto  the  growing  pile  on  the  floor.
I  wiped  my  hands  over  my  face,  my  sharp  stubble  prickling  at  the  palms  of  my  hands.  What was  going  on?  A  quick  look  at  my  watch  told  me  that  it  was  quarter  to  five  on  the  tenth  of December.  Today  was  tomorrow,  a  day  had  passed,  today  was  a  new  day  but  how  can  the  same  man  have  died  twice,  it  was  preposterous,  impossible  and  downright  fucking  crazy.  He must  have  been  mistaken,  the  policemen  was  mistaken,  that  was  it, the  boy  was  young  and perhaps  seeing  a  dead  man  for  the  first  time  had  shook  up  his  nerves.
 I  began  to  logically  make  excuses  and  reasons  as  to  why  the  young  officer  would  again  knock on  my  door  to  tell  me  that  my  neighbour  had  been  found  murdered.  At  about  six  o’clock,  once  I had  showered  and  cleaned  myself  I  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  nothing  had  happened,  that  the  boy  was  just  checking  around  and  had  forgotten  that  he  had  already  spoken  to  me. Today  tomorrow,  when  under  pressure  those  words  are  easy  to  mix  up.   Fucking  let  anybody  in the  public  services  these  days,  I  thought,  regaining  some  solace.
 I  had  seen  enough  of  my  flat,  the  smell  of  sex  and  sweat  was  drowning  me.  I  decided  a  quick pint  in  the  local  boozer  would  buck  up  my  mood.  The  walk  passed  quickly  as  I  strode  with  brisk steps.  My  lips  were  parched  and  my  belly  groaned  for  a  few  pork scratchings.

The  pub  was  dimly  lit  but  homely.  The  carpet  was  old,  torn  at  all  sides  with  huge  splodges  of chewing  gum  smeared  deep  into  the  material.  The  paint  was  fading  away  revealing  damp  walls, but  the  music,  the  smell  of  delicious  spirits  and  women  would  welcome  any  man.  I  felt  more  at home  here  than  I  did  anywhere.
The  barmaid  had  spotted  me  before  I  even  had  chance  to  look  up  off  the  floor  having  shaken off  the  flake s of  snow.  The  usual  darli’n,  not seen  you  in  here  for  a  while.  Thought  someone might  have  started  showing  you  a  good  time  elsewhere.  She  was  repulsive , her  hair  was  thick, long  and  untended.  Her  face  bore  the  sign  of  wrinkles  and  stretch  marks  badly  covered  in  fake tan  or  cheap  makeup,  I  could  never  tell,  but,  to  my  delight  standing  in  the  corner,  away  from all  the  chin  wagging  commoners  stood  a  thing  of  pure  beauty.  Long,  naked  legs  stretched  up  to a  pert  ass  wrapped  tightly  in  black  hot  pants  and  a  pearl  white  blouse  softly  hugged  her delicious  breasts.  This  was  Juliet,  the  daughter  of  Billy  Campbell.   I  drew  a  deep  breath  and made  to  greet  her.  Evening,  I  said  politely  as  I  casually  rested  my  arms  against  the  bar.
Juliet  turned  to  face  me,  her eyes  shifted  examining  who  stood  before  her.  Her  senses  reading me  like  I  was  some  kind  of  data.  She  suddenly  smiled.  Hi,  you  live  a  couple  of  doors  away.  I’ve seen  you  talking  to  dad.
Yes,  yes  me  and  your  dad  go  way  back.  Helped  me  move  in,  a  good  man.
It’s  nice  that  you  say  that,  he  is  a  good  man.  Can  I  get  you  a  drink?
My  heart  leapt  a  little. Just  got  one  but  you  can  get  the  next  round  if  you  like?
Oh,  I  didn’t  notice.  Juliet  turned  fully  on  the  spot  to  face  me  completely.  I  tried  so  hard  not  to let  my  eyes  wonder  over  her  chest,  but  I  couldn’t  help  it.  God  I  so  badly  wanted  her.
Juliet  smiled  arrogantly  as  if  enjoying  toying  with  the  pathetic  man  I  was.  I’m  just  waiting  here, I’m  heading  into  town  latter.
Oh  really,  girl’s  night  out?
Oh  no,  no  no  no.  Juliet  said  smiling,  My  boyfriend  is  coming  to  pick  me  up,  we  are  going to  dance  the  night  away.  Dance  like  there’s  no  tomorrow.
My  body  shrivelled  as  embarrassment  washed  through  me.  The  world  had  fallen  silent  and  all that  I  dared  look  at  was  the  bottom  of  the  pint  glass.  How  stupid  I  had  been  to  even  think  she would  ever  want  me.
Moments  later  Juliet  began  fussing  like  a  giddy  school  girl.   I  jerked  my  head  just  a  millimetre  or  so  to  notice  the  couple  hugging  and  snogging  as  if  the  place  was  some  kind  of  whore  house. My jealousy was building into  rage.  I  picked  up  my  pint  glass  and  downed  the  remaining  larger in  one.
Juliet  barked  with  laughter  and  pushed  her  lover  in  the  chest,  he  stumbled  back  and  playfully bumped  into  me,  my  glass  slipped  from  my  grip  and  smashed  loudly  on  the  floor.  I  grabbed Juliet’s  lover  by the  scruff  of  his  neck  and  shook  him,   but  as  sudden  as  I  had  sprung  to  life  in  a  fit  of  fury  I  had  gone  cold  and  dropped  the  poor  man  to  his  knees.  My  eyes  widened  in horror  as  I  watched  the  man  stand  and  straighten  his  coat.   What  is  your  name?  I  mumbled.
The  man  screwed  up  his  face  in  disgust.  Run  along  you  stinking  piss  head.  You  try  to  attack  me now  you’re  asking  me  questions,  you  need  to get your head checked  out.
But  your  dead.  I  whimpered.  You  died,  your  David,  David  Caldwell.
How  do  you  know  my  name?  Have  you  been  following  me?
Juliet  jumped  off  her  seat  and  restrained  David  as  he  stepped  closer. No  sweet,  this  man  lives  in our  estate.  It’s   just  a  coincidence,  he  knows  my  dad.
The  whole  pup  had  readied  themselves  to  oust  me  out. Your  dead.  Your  dead!   I  shouted  then flung  myself  onto  David.  A  splintering  pain  dashed  across  my  face,  my  teeth  cracked  and  the taste  of  crimson  blood  washed  down  my  throat.  I  collapsed  into  a  weary  pile  unconscious.

There  was  a  rattle  and  a  loud  thud  echoing  somewhere,  somewhere  in  the  darkness  of  space. There  it  was  again  but  this  time  it  was  louder  and  somewhere  closer.   I  opened  my  eyes  as  my head  nearly  split  open  with  pain,  god  how  much  had  I  been  drinking.  The  sound  of  knocking  arose  again  so  I  climbed  to  my  feet  and  staggered  towards  the  door.  Hold   your  fucking  horses I’m  coming!  I  threw  it  open  so  hard  its  hinges  cracked.  Oh  no.  Not  you  again!  What  now!?   I slumped  back  against  the  wall,  standing  in  front  of  me  was  the  young  policemen.   He  tried  explaining  that  a  loud  bang  had  been  heard  coming  from  David‘s  flat  the  night  he  had  disappeared.  I  just  nodded  blankly  then  slammed  the  door  back  in  his  face.  As  I  expected  a  piece  of  paper  torn  from  a  note  book  with  the  same  neat  handwriting  scribbled  upon  its  surface slipped  through  my  letter  box.
I  stormed  into  the  bathroom  and  splashed  ice  cold  water  over  my  face,  scrubbing  the  skin  until my  cheeks  began  to  turn  red.  I  had  no  understanding  of  how  I  had  gotten  home  or  why  there was  nothing  on  my  face  to  suggest  I  had  been  knocked  unconscious.  As  I  slammed  the  little cupboard  over  my  sink  it  bounced  back  open  reflecting  the  face  of  Caldwell,  his  handsome  image  in place  of  my  own. I had never met the man before, but, somehow I  knew his face.  I whimpered  with  insanity.  I  quickly  locked  the  front  door  then dragged  anything  I  could  find  to  wedge  it  shut  so  no one  could  possibly  get  in.  Under  my  bed covers  I  climbed  wrapping  myself  up  safe  and  secure.
The  next  day  there  was  a  few  knocks  at  my  door  but  this  time  I  dared  not  answer.  I  leaned over  to  the  window  and  saw  the  young  police  man  leaving  the  building  with  his  note  pad  placed  in  his  back  pocket.  I  roared  with  laughter, You  basted!  Didn’t  get  to  see  me  today  did  you!   Again,  lying  quite  still  on  my  welcome  mat  was  a  small piece  of  paper  from  a  note  pad.
As  the  days  turned  to  nights  and  the  nights  into  days  at  half  past  four  in  the  afternoon  without fail  the  young  policemen  knocked  on  the  door  and  posted  the  small  piece  of  paper  through  the letter  box.
I  was  rocking  side  to  side  clutching  onto  my  throbbing  head  that  was  slowly  getting  more  painful l each  passing  day.  I  hadn’t  moved  at  all.  As  I  sat  in  a  puddle  of  my  own  urine  I  finally knew  what  I  had  to  do  to  end  it  all.  As  the  sun  sank  behind  the  white  hills  I  tossed  aside  the cabinet  blocking  my  front  door  and  took  hold  of  my  hunting  rifle,  it  felt  brilliant  to  finally  hold its  warm  metal  skin  again.  Stomping  out  across  the  hallway  I  stopped  outside  flat  thirty-two.  I kicked  open  the  front  door  and  paced  towards  the  bedroom  where  only  a  small  slit  of  light  was creeping  out  from  beneath  the  closed  door.  The  sound  of  David’s  bed  rocking  and  the  wail  of shagging  obliterated  the  silence  of  the  cold  night.  I  carefully  passed  into  the  room  holding  my gun  out  in  front  of  me.  Juliet  screamed  and  fell  to  the  floor  gathering  her  clothes  to  cover  herself.  David  was  white  with  fear.   As  his  eyes  widened   his  hands  raised  to  the  air.
You’re  supposed  to  be  dead!  I  shouted  then  squeezed  the  trigger  bringing  an  end  to  the  phantom  once  and  for  all.

*  *  *

The  first  signs  of  spring  had  started  to  show  in  my  small  cherished  garden,  its  flowers  had bloomed  overnight  and  they  looked  beautiful  in  the  mornings  sun.  I  sat  at  my  garden  table admiring   the  country  side  when  a  young  man,  hardly  over  the  age  of  twenty-five  appeared  at the  gate.  Yes?  Can  I  help  you?  I  asked  placing  my  cup  of  tea  on  the  table.
Mrs.  Bell  I  presume?
Yes  I’m  Jessica  Bell,  what  appears  to  be  the  matter?
It’s  your  ex  husband.  Please  come  with  me.
At  Frank’s  flat  the  young  police  officer  struggled  to  open  the  front  door.  Waste  bags  and  broken furniture  lay  scattered  on  the  floor.  I  struggled  to  breath,  the  air  was  musty  and  thick  with sweat,  human  waste  and  urine.  God,  what  was  happening  to  you?  I  asked  myself  as  the  officer lead  me  into  his  bed  room.  The  bed  sheets  lay  in  a  pile  on  the  floor  with  blood  stains  covering almost  every  inch  of  the  sickly  yellow  material.   Scattered  on  the  floor  were  pieces  of  rubbish and  blank  notebook  pages.  His  bin  was  overflowing  with  wasted  paper.  As  I  examined  his belongings  it  was  horribly  easy  to  see  poor  Frank  going  slowly  insane .  In  one  of  his  drawers thousands  of  note  book  receipts  had  flooded  out  onto  the  floor.  I  picked  up  an  old  photo  frame that  lay  on  its  face,  it was  empty  but  for  a  thick  layer  of  grime.  The  frame  looked  as  if  it  had been   salvaged  from  someone’s  garbage.
Please  officer  tell  where  you  found  him.  I  asked  as  tears  trickled  down  my  cheeks.
We  found  him  a  few  doors  away,  number  thirty-two.  The  place  was  empty,  apparently  it  hadn’t been  put  back  on  the  market  due  to  the  circumstances  of  how  it  was  left  by  the  previous tenant.  There  had  been  rumours  that  on  some  mornings  Frank  would  break  in  through  the  back window  and  just  stand  in  the  middle  of  the  bed  room  crying.
Why  did  no one  try  to  help  him?
I  can’t  say,  I  think  most  people  didn’t  care.
David  was  a  family  friend,  what  happened  to  him  put  a  strain  on  all  of  us,  I  had  no  idea  poor Frank  was  hurt  so  badly,  if  only  he’d  let  me  help  him,  if  only  he’d  have  kept  in  touch  all  this could  have  been  prevented.
I’m  sorry  Mrs.  Bell  but  I’m  going  to  have  to  ask  you  to  return  with  me  to  identify  Frank’s  body.
Please  officer,   just  a  moment  alone  then  I  will  do  whatever  you  ask.
The  young  officer  nodded  and  retreated  back  out  into  the  hallway.   I  starred  aimlessly  around Frank’s  home,  for  seven  years  this  is  where  he’d  been  living.  I  had  moved  on  and  re married  and  had  a  young  daughter,  poor  Frank  just  locked  himself  away  slowly  going  mad.  If  only  he’d have  kept  in  touch,  let  me  know  where  he  was  living  I  could  have  told  him  that  I  had  never stopped  loving  him.  Never  stopped  wishing  he’d  forgive  me  for  what  I  did  to  him.