Free Innocent Blood by Graham Masterton Page B

not for years. “A spiritual companion,” that’s what he said – a spirit who’s very close to me and also depends on me. It has to be Danny.’
    Astrid tugged her off-the-shoulder dress a little further off her shoulder, so that she was showing more of her cleavage. She had very full breasts, with a pattern of moles across them like a star map, and from the way they moved Frank could see that she wasn’t wearing a bra. The Mexican waiter in the tight black pants brought her a tequila sunrise and gave Frank a conspiratorial wink.
    â€˜So what are you going to do?’ Astrid asked him, sipping her drink and looking up at him with those bleached-out eyes. ‘You’re not really going to hold a séance, are you?’
    â€˜I don’t see why not. If I can prove to Margot that Danny forgives me . . .’
    â€˜Do you really think that will make any difference?’
    â€˜What do you mean? Of course it will.’
    â€˜I mean that if Margot really loved you she would have forgiven you, without any need for Danny’s ghost to tell her.’
    â€˜So you’re saying that she doesn’t really love me? You don’t even know her.’
    â€˜Why would I want to?’
    â€˜Because she’s pretty and she’s intelligent and unlike most women she has a mind of her own.’
    â€˜And how would you know what most women are like? You’re thirty-four, you had a child of eight.’
    Frank sat back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the table. ‘What is this? You’re, like, what? You’re questioning my marriage?’
    Astrid laughed, and took hold of his hand. ‘I know what you need, Frank, and it’s not forgiveness. You killed Danny, but you didn’t do it because you wanted to. You want to be able to talk to somebody and tell them how bad you feel, and you want to be able to scream at God, and tell Him how unfair everything is. Well, you and me both. Life’s a shit, Frank, and the trouble is that most of the time, it’s mostly our own fault.’
    Frank ordered matata , spinach and clams in peanut butter sauce, while Astrid asked for a tuna and vegetable salad. They shared a very cold bottle of Arniston Bay Sauvignon between them.
    Frank wiped his mouth with his napkin. ‘So, you know, tell me something about yourself.’
    â€˜Do you think I need to?’
    â€˜You don’t need to, but I’m interested. I just want to get some idea of who you are.’
    â€˜I was born and raised in Oxnard. My father was a TV producer and my mother was a dancer. I always wanted to be a doctor, taking care of sick children in Africa.’
    â€˜But you never were a doctor, and you never went to Africa?’
    â€˜No. Not exactly.’
    â€˜Are your parents still alive?’
    â€˜Are yours?’
    â€˜Well, OK, they spend most of their days playing bridge, but they’re not physically dead yet, if that’s what you mean.’
    They said almost nothing for the rest of their lunch, but looked at each other as they ate, guardedly. Now and then Astrid gave him a small, secretive smile, as if she knew something that he didn’t. Frank didn’t know what to make of her. She seemed interested in him but he couldn’t really work out why.
    Most of the people that Frank knew left the Garden early. For them, it was back-to-the-office or back-to-the-studio time. One or two of them came over and shook his hand and gave him their condolences. Yvette Kane gave Frank a kiss on both cheeks and there were genuine tears in her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry, Frank. It was such a shock.’
    â€˜Thanks, Yvette.’
    â€˜How’s Margot taking it?’
    â€˜Not very well, I’m afraid.’
    â€˜Give her my love, won’t you?’ said Yvette. She was just about to leave when she stopped and looked at Astrid again. ‘I’m sorry – do I know you?’
    Astrid put on her