Saving Grace

44

"It's not over."

"What?"

"It's not over."

"Richard, you know even monsters have to sleep."

"I know, Godric. But it's not over."

I picked up the pace, weaving between men in suits and women with briefcases down the busy street. The hustle of early morning traffic squealed along the asphalt beside me, flashes of silver and red, tires screeching and horns honking.

"Richard," he sighed. "Russo is dead, yes? So, it is over."

"Russo didn't do it. It's a long story, but the man you want is Nicholas Somerton. He was a janitor at the Sinatra Stroll. Was fired a couple of weeks ago for theft."

"And what makes you sure it was this Somerton man?"

"It just is," I said. "Look, are you going to help me or not? Because if not – "

"Yes, I help, I help. Family, and all that. Just give me one more hour sleep."

"No, Godric. You don't understand. He killed her dog last night. There's no time for sleep."

Godric groaned, swore in Russian.

"Fine. I make some calls. A man will be at Grace's house within hour to watch her. Now, will you leave me alone?"

"For now. Thank you."

I hung up just as I reached Grace's house. I ran up the path, burst through the door.

"Grace!"

Trembling, my frantic eyes scanned the entire entrance, living room and staircase in a single glance, until they snagged on the mess on the lounge room floor. Magazines strewn across the floor, suitcases piled up on the couch, stacks of folded clothes...

"Grace?!"

"Richie."

Grace fell into the room, her beaming smile stretching from ear to ear.

"I'm so glad you're here," she said, throwing her arms around me. "There's so much to tell you."

I pulled back, shook my head.

"Grace, you need to listen to me – "

"It can wait. Look what I bought!"

With something that sounded like a squeal, Grace stuck two first class plane tickets in front of my face. I frowned.

"New Orleans," she said. "We can do what you said – go to America, Europe, Asia – wherever we want to go, we can go. And we can start here." She breathed, shook her head, eyes bright. "I realised you were right this morning," she said, arms slowly sliding up and around my neck. "I'm free. Really, truly free. And for the first time, I have something real to live for. Something to look forward to."

Her eyes softened, lowered. She kissed me softly, slowly, sweetly.

"I want a life with you," she whispered, resting her forehead against mine. "I want everything."

Love will make a man crazy – that's what my father used to say. And, as per usual, he was right. So, in my moment of insanity, as I looked into Grace's eyes – bright eyes, warm eyes – I swallowed every ounce of truth. I convinced myself it was the noble thing to do, that being honest would rip from her this first flicker of happiness which had eluded her for so long. I convinced myself that I could find Nicholas Somerton on my own and put him down without Grace ever knowing. I convinced myself to lie.  So, I managed to pull my quivering lips into a smile and ask ever so sweetly:

"When does the flight leave?"

© A.G. Travers 2018