#3 Where Monsters Lay

Chap. 2_dough balls and raucous behaviour?

Despite it being late, Huw was right about the restaurant. It was open, and delicious.

Frank prided himself on the fact that he was able to finish his own dough balls and everyone else's also. Apparently, 'dough balls go to the heart, not the stomach'. Or something like that. Rob hadn't been paying much attention.

He was worrying about Sarah. Huw's response as to why Sarah wasn't allowed to come was rather odd, and it left Rob feeling rather chary about the whole situation. He knew that Frank and she weren't on the greatest of terms, and, rather naively, he'd hoped it would have been settled by now. But he also knew that her confidence had taken a hit since the incident at Hotel Felix. And this wouldn't have helped, especially without anyone readily available for comfort.

It hadn't helped that Frank had been asked, because all of them knew that she was better off doing field work, and Frank was best at the desk.

It also wouldn't help that when Frank got back, offering some loving arms, she would just deny them point-blank. It had happened before, even when Rob and Frank were just going to the shops. Or when she'd been out and was back safely. He'd offer her a hug. And she'd reject it.

They were talking. It was an attempt to be amiable from both of them. But they needed to talk out their issues. Which neither of them could see. It was so integral that the three of them, if they were going to work as a team, could be on good terms. 'Good' wasn't the word for Frank and Sarah unfortunately.

So Rob, whilst Frank and Huw just re-discussed what could be happening at Histon Road, all for Frank's benefit, was drawing up a plan.

He was going to head straight home as soon as they got back to the warehouse. Sarah had said that she'd wait up for both of them. But Rob would just drop Frank off to collect his things, and then drive off without letting either of them know. At least there would be a chance, he thought. A slither of hope.

That was all he could even offer them.

*****

Rob was nearing 'The Den' as they all so delightfully called it. It was all a very 'Frank' idea, but Sarah and he were soon using it just as fluently as their rather childish companion.

He pulled a right turn and the facility appeared in front of them.

The whole thing was branded with rather plastic 'Smart Technology' logos and mottos. No telephone number was added, however, nor an email address. Because 'Smart Technology' didn't exist.

The whole thing was funded by Huw's people and they insisted it to be kept very hush-hush. (Probably because if it all failed, it wouldn't be difficult to mop up the mess. But Huw didn't want them to know that, despite the fact that he felt Rob had already figured it out). It towered out of the picturesque landscape of Cambridge, but fit in very well with the industrial estate that it was part of, seated just on the outskirts of the town.

Rob pulled up outside the door of the warehouse and Frank tumbled out. He was tired and full. There had been no conversation on the way back from Frinton, but it was late.

Now's a good enough time than ever.

He drove off, leaving Frank a little confused, but not too bad. His stomach was aching, and he needed sleep. But inside was his things. And Sarah. Two things he desperately needed.

"Hey," he said softly, as he pushed the door open.

Sarah swung around on her chair. There were mottled suggestions of joy on her face as she noticed Frank, but she quickly changed such a demeanour. They weren't on the best of terms. He needs to know that, she thought.