Chapter 11
AT 7 AM, I pulled up in a loading bay a couple of blocks away from Central Station and texted Frankie to tell her where I was. Already the sun was breaking through the cloud and was hovering on the brink of a shiny spring day. I hoped it would lift my mood – I was wrung out after my disturbed night’s sleep and early morning. I gulped down the coffee I’d bought on the way from the drive-through at McDonald’s. The passenger door was wrenched open and a figure in jeans, bright patchwork coat and boots jumped in. She hauled in her overnight bag and threw it onto the back seat.
‘The bloody train was late,’ Frankie said. ‘And then this guy came and sat next to me, reeking of booze. Just what you need at 6 am.’
She wriggled out of her coat and clicked on her seatbelt. ‘Swanky car. D
