The Tied Man

I briefly considered asking just what ‘insurance’ had goaded my father into travelling all the way to Spain to find me, before deciding that I never wanted to know.

‘So, to summarise.  I would very much appreciate it if you remained at Albermarle Hall until my portrait is completed.’  Blaine took the photograph from my hands and began to place all the papers back in their wallet.  ‘I wouldn’t dream of keeping you prisoner here, but I should tell you that the individual who took that photograph is currently staying within five minutes of your brother’s school, and will remain there for the duration of your residence.  I’m sure you can appreciate that my first loyalty is to my business.  This doesn’t have to change anything, Lilith.  If you decide to do anything foolish, then I’m afraid I’ll be forced to take action, but if you’re sensible, then none of this will ever be mentioned again.  I’m merely being honest with you and protecting my interests.  Do you understand?’

I struggled to drown out the roaring that had returned to my ears.  ‘Yes, I understand perfectly.  Will that be all?’

‘For now.  I hope you have a productive day.’

Finn

I sat at the kitchen table, absently stirring a mug of black coffee for the thousandth time and letting a cigarette burn out between my fingers.  I wore a pair of pyjama bottoms and nothing else: my back would be too tender to cope with the pressure of fabric for another couple of hours, and my arse was just about letting me sit down without killing me.

‘Jesus, Henry, she was fucking horrified.  I’m there spread-eagled like the fucking gimp I am, and Blaine hands her the whip and tells her to get on with it.  It was like asking a Mother Superior to flash her tits.’

Henry grimaced.  ‘It’s rare for her to get it this wrong.’

‘You’re telling me.  God, this is going to cause some trouble.’

‘It’s all a little odd.  Lilith didn’t strike me as a prude.’

‘It’s not that.  I just reckon she’s the first person I’ve ever known who’s been in that situation and decided to act on principle.’  I managed a last drag before the filter itself began to burn.  ‘Whatever, I reckon she won’t be able to look me in the eye again.’

Henry stopped piling dishes.  ‘Does that bother you?’

‘Nah,’ I lied, carefully circling my shoulders to test the extent of the damage.  As if on cue, Lilith walked into the kitchen, took one look at me hunched over the table, and walked out without saying a word.  ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ I groaned, using my teeth to pull my tenth Marlboro of the morning from its pack.

Yes, it bothered me, and even bloody Henry knew it.  It bothered me a great deal, not least because I might just have lost something that was never mine to begin with.  I pulled smoke deep into my lungs, ignoring Henry’s forced cough, and idly wondered if it was physically possible for a man to smoke himself to death in two hours.

Before the butt had finished smouldering in the Wedgwood saucer I was using as an ashtray, I lit my next smoke.  I waited for Henry’s concerned reproach, but none came.  Instead, he mutely stared over my head.

‘I can get two across, but I’m having a little difficulty with five down.’  Lilith stood in the doorway and coolly appraised the cross-hatched pattern of damage to my back.

Henry gave her a grateful smile.  ‘Would you care for a coffee?’

‘I don’t suppose you’ve got anything stronger?’

‘Well, there’s my cooking brandy, but…’

‘That’ll do.’

I didn’t move, as if through silence I could render myself invisible.  Lilith stood above me and unscrewed the lid from a small jar.  ‘Keep still,’ she ordered.  ‘Arnica.  It might sting a bit, but it’ll help to bring the bruising down.  Have you got some ice, please, Henry?’

Henry, stunned into silence, obediently wrapped a handful of ice cubes in a tea towel and passed it to Lilith.  In between mouthfuls of cheap brandy from a mug, she pressed the impromptu icepack to the worst of my injuries, and began to rub arnica into those that had just started to settle. 

Lilith

Trapezius, deltoid, infra spinatus, teres major, teres minor, latissimus dorsai.  Under my hands, Finn became an anatomist’s model.   I named each muscle, mouthing the words under my breath as an atheist’s prayer for distance.  ‘Is it always this bad?’ I finally asked.  Blaine had clearly kept going long after I had fled the scene.