What happened to Grace Sinclair? (Friday Barnes)

~11~

~moving~

Friday had never met someone who could talk so much.

It was two hours back to the warehouse and Mr Tarlee filled every second.

Friday found that she quite enjoyed listening to him talk. His life was simple. He had a wife, a few kids and had been an insurance worker at Interpol for nearly 30 years.

"You don't talk much do you?" Mr Tarlee asked when they arrived at the warehouses

Friday shrugged. "I'm not feeling very good."

Mr Tarlee smiled. "Well, I hope you feel better soon."

Friday got out of the car and thanked Mr Tarlee for the ride.

By 8:00 PM, her illness had gotten worse, and she felt like death.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Alice dropped a backpack on the floor at the foot of Friday's mattress.

She didn't move.

"You're going back to Interpol." Alice said. Her tone was strong, the final word in the one person conversation.

Friday rolled onto her back and opened her eyes.

Her head was throbbing, her throat hurt and she was both hot and cold at the same time.

"What?" She asked, her voice horse.

"You're. Going. Back. To. Interpol." Alice said, her arms crossed over her chest.

Friday sat up slowly. Gritting her teeth against the stabbing pain in her head. "I understand what you said. But why."

Alice watched Friday with narrowed eyes. "Because you're too sick to be sleeping on a mattress knowing the floor with three other teenagers in a dusty crusty warehouse."

Friday nodded. Alice handed her a mask and she put it on.

The tall girl grabbed Friday by the elbows and pulled her up.

"Get dressed. I've called Interpol and they know you're coming. We're getting the bus though cos we don't have any other way to get there. We're gonna leave in 10 minutes." Alice moved over to the table as Friday gathered some clothes.

They were the only ones in the room, Olive and Elliot having gone downstairs earlier that morning.

"Why are you doing this?" Friday asked.

Alice put her phone in her purse and grabbed her wallet from the table.

"What do you mean?"

Friday pulled on her jeans. "Why do you care? You've only known me for a while."

Alice stopped what she was doing. "My parents were doctors. They knew everything about illnesses."

She was quiet for a moment before she gave herself a little shake. "Anyway, bottom line is that I know a bad illness when I see one."

She turned around just as Friday finished pulling on her shirt and put her hand to Fridays head.

"Yeah, you've got a fever, and a bad one too. Interpol will take better care of you than I will. You ready?"

Friday nodded a little, her head aching.

Alice marched over to the door.

When they got downstairs, Olive and Elliot came over.

"Get better soon." Oliver said patting Fridays arm.

Elliot nodded, "we're gonna miss you around here detective."

"Wait!" Someone yelled. "Is detective leaving?"

Elliot nodded. "Yeah, she's going back to Interpol."

"No! why!" The person yelled. Friday leaned to the left to see past Elliot. Sarah, a girl Friday had spent a few hours with on her first night at the warehouse with, was leaning so far over the  back of the couch Friday was sure she was about to fall.

"She's sick." Alice replied.

Sarah jumped over the back of the couch and came over. "Guess I should give you this now then."

She handed Friday a piece of thick watercolour paper that had been cut into a small rectangle. Painted on it was a green pork pie hat.

The words 'detective Barnes' were written on the bottom of the rectangle in calligraphy.

Sarah was an art student who spent almost every second either drawing or doing some other sort of craft.

Friday smiled, the gesture blocked by the mask. But Sarah saw it anyway.

"Thank you, Sarah." Friday said, slipping it carefully into her backpack.

"You will come visit right?" Sarah asked, tossing her chestnut hair over her shoulder.

Friday nodded, her throat too sore the talk.

Sarah smiled. "Good. I look forward to it."

Alice grabbed Friday and pulled her out the door. "Yell your goodbyes."

Everyone on the communal floor yelled goodbye as the door closed behind the girls.

The bus trip really wasn't that long, but combined with the pain in Fridays head, throat and just the discomfort of being on a bus in general, it seemed like it took a lifetime.

When they finally got there, Melanie all but ran to Friday, throwing herself onto the sick girl and hugging her tight.

"Mel, I'm really sick. I'll get you sick too." Friday said, trying to push Melanie off her so not to get her sick.

Melanie didn't budge. "I don't care. We have seen each other since the hospital and it's been so boring without you."

Ian put a hand to his chest, his face in mock offence. "You wound me, dear Melanie."

Melanie ignored him. "Let's get you into bed. You look awful."

"I feel it." Friday mumbled, letting Melanie drag her across the lawn.

She waved to Alice before she was pulled up the stairs.