She turned and looked at the man in the doorway, tapping his foot impatiently. Frank Morris was in his forties, but time had not been kind to him. His face was imprinted with aggressive creases. His body was tightly coiled as though it was ready to spring apart at any moment. Sensible people were scared of Frank and the fuzzy scarf Isobel had bought him for Christmas did nothing to soften his appeal. She loved him, after a decade of being in his care he had naturally assumed the role of her father, even though he couldn't even stand in her father's shadow by comparison. But love and loathing were not mutually exclusive and Isobel was old enough now to understand that the things he had asked of her, asked when she was just a child, were not the requests of a good man. And yet she loved him.
He stared at her expectantly.
"Sorry, did you say something?"
"My phone, have you seen it?"
She glanced around his office idly. "Maybe you left it at home."
He grumbled in annoyance and checked his watch again. "We're late, we're not going to make the reservation at this rate." Frank stormed from the office to tear apart the rest of the club.
Frank had been her surrogate father for ten years. Ten years today since he had brought her home, into a house that was as big as a palace, filled with presents and food and festive cheer. Where had all that gone? She shook her head, it was all still there but it was like the heavy makeup on her thinning face, hiding an awful truth - total emptiness.
"Izzy!" He bellowed from the other room. "We're late, move it."
She hurried out of the office, crossing the empty club. When she reached the door Frank was already waiting for her with an umbrella outstretched to protect them both from the downpour. She stayed close to him as they walked to the car, keeping a watchful eye on the street around them.
Today Frank was driving. Their last driver had been - Isobel looked at the driver's seat - untrustworthy, that was the word she had whispered in Frank's ear. He didn't like Frank, he thought Frank was an asshole and so he was dealt with. After that Frank couldn't find anyone to drive for them so he did it himself.
She strapped herself into the passenger seat and watched Frank as he pulled away. He used to be a good looking man but time had taken its toll. The days of the all powerful Frank Morris were slipping away and as she sat there, ten years to the day they had met, she couldn't help but wonder if she was the reason it had all gone wrong for him.
"You're quiet," he said.
"I'm just thinking," she said.
"Thinking about?"
"When we met. What things were like back then."
"Back before we had everyone running scared."
Isobel sighed. "I remember when you brought me home and I was so scared. You had this big house, that huge Christmas tree and all those presents. I couldn't believe it, I'd never seen so many fancy boxes and you said they were all for me."
"I spoilt you," he said proudly.
"Yes," she replied and glanced away. If she had known what awaited her in the years to come would she have unwrapped those gifts so readily? "Yes you did."