Frank Bowen Conspiracy Thriller Series

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Frank opened his eyes with a shudder, breathing heavily, his body covered in a sheen of sweat. As the sound of his heartbeat inside his head receded, the familiar cricket noises and distant voices of early morning beach wanderers took over.

He turned to find Maria had gone and felt a pang of disappointment in his stomach. Something he said? Probably gone for a swim or breakfast, he thought, as he watched specs of dust float against slithers of light that beamed through the hut slats.

Eventually, he climbed out of bed, grabbing his wash bag and towel and padded out to the shower area; another perk of cheap boarding. The cool water rushing over his aching head felt like heaven and he let it stream down his body, eyes closed as he relished the feeling. He reached for his wash bag and fumbled around inside for the shower gel. A piece of paper fluttered down onto the concrete slab, narrowly missing the puddle of water that circled around his feet and landed on the hard, sandy ground.

Frank picked it up with one still dry hand and looked at it quizzically. It was written in neat, perfectly formed handwriting.

Thanks for a perfect night. If you’re ever in Hong Kong:

(344) 37484 44

Maria x

Frank could only wonder why she had left him the message in his wash-bag. She had obviously decided to move on to her next destination but it seemed strange that she had left so quickly. Had she felt like their night together had been a mistake? Feeling slightly aggrieved he tucked the note back in the bag. It would have been nice to spend more time with her but he decided to just get on with having a good time.

***

Lazy days drifted into party nights, the alcohol and drugs all part of the routine and, like a kid in a sweet shop, Frank was there: taking it all on.

He’d catch breakfast around four in the afternoon—if he could stomach it—with the regulars at the Brazil bar, then soak up the last of the sun and drift aimlessly in the blue sea. After a brief relaxation, it was time for beers and cocktails. Theo, Claude and a regular motley crew played cards and backgammon, turning the bar into a kind of beach style scene from Casablanca. Party night was every night. There was rarely a night off.

The comedown was hard and swift. One afternoon as he lounged on a hammock the pain hit him in the stomach, tying it up in knots and spitting it out again. He crawled to the safety of his bed as the sickness took hold; tiredness beating him up with sticks, weighing him down, preventing movement.

His appetite completely vanished, mouth dried up like a prune and he spent too much time in the toilet, wishing he had an en-suite bathroom. The terrible nights blanketed him in darkness, shrouding him in their cruel shadow, like a mocking demon. In his fever, he promised to look after himself, quit smoking, bump the drink, and be healthy.

It seemed to Frank that you were at your weakest exactly when you felt invincible.

After a few days, Theo came to see Frank and was visibly shocked at his appearance.

“Bloody hell, Frank, you look terrible!”

“I feel terrible, Theo; I think I’m going to die,” Frank groaned.

“I doubt it.” Theo looked closely at Frank, narrowing his eyes as if reading his health meter.

“My friend is a doctor; I’ll go get him.”

“Anything. Can you get me some more bottled water? I’ll give you money for the Doc.” Frank tried to move across the room to get to his cash.

“Forget it, Frank. You lie down.”

When the doctor arrived he had Frank popping the antibiotics in no time. After a long period of praying and puking, Frank began to slowly recover, almost to his former self.

It was time to move on to his next destination. Thailand had always been in his travel plans and he was suddenly keen to get there.

Frank made a vague arrangement to meet Theo in Bangkok. As they drank tea in the Brazil bar, Theo recommended a guesthouse near the Khao San Road and pointed to it on a map.

“It’s a great place, good price and very comfortable.”

“Great,” said Frank. “It’s good to know where to go, saves a lot of hassle.”

Frank found himself thinking about Maria again and wondered where she had gone. He hoped she was still around Goa and that there would be a small chance they would bump into each other again. He wanted to hear her seductive Dutch accent one more time, but it was not to be.