Spying mission

“What do you mean, he’s vanished? And what am I supposed to do about it?”

The day kept getting better and better. Not only were her shoulders, back, legs and ankles throbbing, with a growing migraine above, now Charlotte's elbows also ached from resting on the bridge's narrow metal railing. Leaning over the edge while a mad woman raved in her ear, it was tempting to chuck her phone into the trench below, straight into somebody's terribly neglected garden where it might stay forgotten forever.

“He didn’t come home to me last night,” Mrs Oliver explained, “And he isn’t answering my calls. He also didn’t show up to school this morning – they rang me up to say so. Now, I don’t mind my Frank going for little adventures every so often, but without warning like this? It’s quite unsettling. Besides which I’d been looking forward to a little quality time with him...”

Asking the stranger who they were meant that Evie knew Charlotte was currently reachable, and possibly in the City. Within seconds of sending the message containing her name, Mrs Oliver had taken the initiative and made the call herself. Trapped on the spot to suffer her aches and hunger yet a bit longer, Charlotte cursed her impatience. The hotel was only a few hundred metres away, and she could see the front of it. If buildings had faces she imagined this one would be demolishing itself with laughter now, especially if it could hear what was being said.

"What am I supposed to do? Charlotte whined. "I'm not some sort of wizard, you know. I can't summon your wayward son from the bowels of the City..."

“But you can find him for me. Call him on my behalf – discreetly of course, without telling him I put you to it. All I want is to know he’s safe and sound, whether he intends to attend his schooling, and when I can expect to see him again. Gillian is lovely and all, for the time being and I daresay my lackeys at the office will favour me if asked, but I’m positively aching for a man in the house, you know...”

"And you think he won't immediately see right through me? It's been years!"

"But don't you see? That's exactly it!" Evie insisted, "Whatever I've done to offend him can't possibly be linked to you. Surely he'll just assume you just want to catch up like... because - " she faltered. "Your um, father isn't with you is he?"

"Nope."

"Thank fuck for that."

"Oops..." Charlotte nearly did drop the phone out of surprise. The last remark, in its brutal honesty constituted the first shred of sanity in the conversation. "Agreed," she said once she got a grip again. Father being around could only make everything ten times worse.

"Will you do it then? I really want him back, in me..."

Charlotte winced, thinking of Harold stuck with his entire entourage now like this. Maybe Frank had run off precisely to escape this rubbish... “All right, Evie,” she ceded, “Send me his contact details and I’ll get back to you later.”

“Thanks, Charly, you’re a pet,” Evie cooed, but quickly changed topic. “What of you, dear? You’ll be visiting us, of course?”

"Not, um, not immediately," she said, "I'm exhausted. The Mag-Lev got fucked this morning, the rescue at the exit point in the mountains was late, and the trip via rail took fucking ages. I don't know how long I'll take to recover. All my joints ache."

She could practically see Mother Oliver gesticulating in dismissal. “Then please, come over and let us help you recover! Forget whatever it was you came for, Uni or some rubbish, you deserve better. We'll revitalize you! You won't need to do anything, dear, me and Gilly will do the hard work. In fact, if you really can’t get Frankie to return then I insist you visit at least once. We bore of each other down here. Pussy is quite delicious but it’s hard to be satisfied without a little novelty...”

Charlotte held the phone at arm’s length with her thumb over the microphone. Without hearing the specific acts implied, the insufferably sweet and insipid way they would be performed was revolting to her in of itself. Even the thick thorn bushes down below appeared to wilt at the sheer niceness spewing from the loudspeaker. “Speak for yourself, loony,” she muttered, "You couldn't just turn nympho you had to also ruin the fun too..." while Evie carried on, just far enough from her ear not to hear the gory details. Only when the device went completely quiet did she bring it near her head again.

“Fine, Evie.” she said, “I’ll see what I have the courage to do.” Not likely. Not with you anyway...

“Splendid! See you soon, dear.”

The moment of reckoning was nigh. Charlotte didn't even wait to see if new coordinates were sent her. Phone definitively switched off and buried inside her backpack, she was at last free to grip the handle on her suitcase, hold tight on the shoulder bag with no shoulder strap, and walk the final stretch toward the promised land. Still she hesitated one more time.

Frank might be sane himself, for real. Perhaps he was already heading out of town on some overground train. What then, if she called him? Come to that, was to up and leave the best choice to make?

“Later,” she murmured to herself, “Worry later. Now, shower..."