Chapter 24

I have to talk to him. I have to talk to him in person. With big steps I'm on my way to the center of the city. On my way to 'Librairie de l'amour'. I'm not angry at the moment, I'm perfectly calm and I should stay that way. Maybe Francis acted all cute and in love with Matthew but I didn't forget our last conversation in his shop. If I ever see that little girl again I should thank her a thousand times. She probably didn't only save my life but also my virginity. Damn that was scary. It's almost like the Francis of then and the Francis with Matthew are two different people or something. By this thought I hold still for a moment. People are staring at me. They probably find it weird I was in a such a hurry and suddenly stand still. What if Francis has two personalities? Just like Natalia? No, I don't think so. He must just be acting he loves Matthew, so I get confused. If I commit a murder I should also take a new partner, that way you look less suspicious. I start walking again. I guess I have to find it out. When I'm standing in front of Librairie de l'amour I take a deep breath. Here I go. I open the door and hear a bell ring.
"Coming, I'm coming," I hear Francis say from far away.
I can hear Francis' footsteps. I get more nervous by every step he takes. When our eyes meet I first see disbelief in Francis his eyes and after that suspicion.
"What do you want?" he asks.
With his back he leans against the counter, his arms crossed. I wish I could give myself a pose like that. I feel really uncomfortable standing like this without a pose, it makes me feel tiny.
"I want to talk," I say.
I walk towards him a rise my hand.
"I made faults, you made faults. Now let's shake hands and make a new start," I say.
Francis smiles, but it's more a mocking smile then a happy smile.
"I made faults? I can't remember making faults," he says.
"Your intention was to rape me. I could easily go to the police, I even have an eyewitness," I say.
Francis lifts one eyebrow.
"Rape you? Are you sure? I was just sitting and drinking some wine," he says.
"No, not that time. You wanted to do that when we first met," I say.
Francis furrows his eyebrows.
"But zat was the first time we met," he says.
He doesn't remember? Or is he just playing with me?
"Stop acting like you don't know what I'm talking about!" I say.
"Really, mon ami. I 'ave no idea," he says.
With my hand I grab my head. I'm getting a headache from this.
"You know, whatever. This wasn't the thing I wanted to talk about anyway," I say.
"You said something about ze police. Well you should be glad I didn't go to ze police! Ze people on ze first aid only believed our lied story about my wounds because Matthew works zere!" Francis says.
For the first time I realize how worse my situation has gotten. Francis could have easily given me a one way trip to prison, but he didn't. Maybe the man isn't too bad after all. I feel really guilty, but I shouldn't forget he may have killed Arthur. If he did I can never forgive him. I come to the conclusion I should try to keep Francis a friend and get information out if him slowly.
"I know, thank you for that," I say.
Francis seems shocked about how regrettable my words sound. He can't believe me and tries to read my eyes. When he sees I really mean it he takes a deep breath.
"Don't mention it," he says slowly.
"I'm also… really sorry for what I did to you the other day," I say.
I look at his face. He doesn't have sutures, but he does have bruising in his face. I remember how blood came out of his mouth and nose. I wonder what he and Matthew told the people at the first aid. It must be a really good griffon to make the people at the first aid believe there was no violence involved.
"I'm just… really confused since my closest friend died," I say with a lump in my throat.
I feel how my emotions are coming up, and I see that Francis notices it.
"I think I understand," he says while laying an hand on my shoulder.
"A friend of mine also died recently," he says with a sad undertone.
I look in his eyes and see sadness. Real sadness.
"Who was it? May I ask," I say.
Francis smiles a sad smile.
"He worked here for some years. He was such a nice guy," he says.
"What was his name?" I ask dead serious.
Francis looks at me with suspicion.
"His name was Arthur. Arthur Kirkland," he says.
I could swear my heart stopped for a moment. So Arthur worked here. Francis seems really sad about his death, but it can also be an act. I shake Francis hand of my shoulder. I think it's the best to go now. If I ask further he may will start thinking I suspect him for murdering Arthur.
"I'm sorry. I must go now. Thank you for your time," I say.
I want to walk away but Francis stops me by barring the way.
"Wait, what was it you wanted to talk about?" he asks.
"It's nothing," I say.
I want to walk around Francis but suddenly he jumps on me. Together we fall to the ground. Afraid, I look in Francis' eyes, his eyes that suddenly seem to have a purple tint. I feel small and easily breakable laying under his big body. With his head he comes closer to my ear.
"Alfred…" he whispers.
I can feel how a shiver goes through my body. That voice… it's the same voice as in my nightmares. My body starts shaking.
"No need to be afraid… Alfred…" the voice whispers in my ear.
More shivers go through my body. Slowly Francis moves his head lower and bites my neck.
"Ahhh," I say while gasping for air.
But Francis doesn't stop after biting me in my neck, he also bites me in many other places of my skin, leaving little red spots behind. It's the same. It's exactly the same as in my nightmare. My nightmare, I remember it so clearly it could have happened in real life. But I don't want to live my nightmare again.
"Stop!" I say while slapping Francis in his face.
It's like Francis woke up from a dream. The purple tint in his eyes disappears and he looks down at me, confused.
"W-what happened?" he asks.
He… doesn't remember? I have to take a few deep breaths to calm myself down. Who- or whatever that was, is gone. Francis stares at the little red spots he left on my body.
"What happened?" he asks again.
Confused he stares in my eyes. He wants to read them, he wants to read them so bad. But I also don't know the answer.
"Nothing. Nothing happened," I say.
Without saying another word I rise up and run away, leaving a poor confused man behind.

I can hear the sounds of talking and laughing people come out of the pub even before I'm inside. When I come inside I see what I expected. Drunk talking and laughing people and not just a few but many of them. The man I'm looking for is standing on a table. Screaming and yelling people are standing around him.
"One more round for the whole room!" Gilbert screams.
The crowd answers him with more screaming and yelling. Gilbert laughs and jumps off the table. Damn it, now I can't see him anymore. I try to make my way through the crowd.
"I have to talk to you!" I scream in Gilbert's ear when I finally find him.
The drunk didn't hear me and starts laughing in my face.
"Good you could come too kid!" he shouts so I can hear him.
He takes one big glass of beer from the bar and gives it to me.
"Here you go!" he says with a loud voice.
I remember the last time I drunk and give the glass back to him.
"No thanks! Can we go outside?" I yell over the sounds of the crowd.
Before Gilbert is able to answer me someone drags me out of the crowd, out of the pub. When I'm finally outside I can look in the man's face. He has blue eyes and blond style hair which is combed back. He also is wearing glasses.
"No underagers allowed," he says.
"Yes, I know. But I wanted to talk to Gilbert," I say impressed by the man's posture.
"Why did you want to talk to my brother?" he asks, one eyebrow lifted.
"Oh, nothing really special," I lie.
I can see in the man's face that he doesn't believe me.
"If you have problems it's better to tell me instead of my brother," he says with a friendly smile on his face.
He takes a little card out of his pocket and gives it to me. The card says he's a psychologist, just want I needed.
"Thank you sir…" I say while looking on the card to see what's his last name.
The man smiles and waves with his hand as if his last name isn't important.
"You don't have to use my last name. Just call me Ludwig" he says.
He raises his hand. I also raise mine and we shake hands.
"And I'm Alfred. Alfred F. Jones."