The Tied Man

‘I’m glad you find it so amusing.’  There was something particularly satisfying about the way that permanent smile hardened as her jaw clenched, even though I knew she was about to go for my jugular.  ‘Would you believe that this – ’ she held the email up as if it were radioactive – ‘was the very best I could do when it came to arranging some form of insurance for your complicity, Lilith?  With any other guest, I normally have to spend hours selecting the most suitable people for surveillance, from a list of lovers, friends,  family – but you?  Nothing. You’ve had twenty-eight years on this planet, and the nearest thing I could get to a figure of affection in your life was some retarded child who you see three times a year if you’re lucky.’

‘Ouch,’ I winced. The malice in her voice suggested that whatever was coming next, it wasn’t going to be a first-class ticket to Alicante and a polite kiss goodbye.

‘Do you believe in synchronicity?’

‘In what?’ I asked, completely wrong-footed.

‘Fate.  Serendipity.  The romantic notion that things happen for a reason.  That we meet people at just the right time…’

‘I know what it means, Blaine.  And no, I don’t.’

She rested her chin in lightly entwined hands.  ‘When I first saw you on that dreadful programme, I honestly thought it would be Albermarle’s opportunity for catharsis that would attract you.  I rarely make a mistake, but for once I was wrong.

And I must say, the truth is far more entertaining.  It wasn’t the need to lash out that was the priority at all, was it?  It was the need to find a soul to save.’

‘You’ve lost me.’

‘No I haven’t.  I’ve found you. Well, to be fair, Finn  found you, albeit through blundering his way into your beautifully defended little world.  If you choose to leave Albermarle now, I give you my solemn promise that I will hurt  Finn Strachan beyond all measure.  How does that make you feel, Lilith?’

*****

I didn’t even know where he slept.  I knew that he was scared of the dark, that he consumed more drugs than could be found in a medium-sized South American nation, but I had no idea where Finn actually spent the night.  I could only guess that Blaine wouldn’t give him anything approaching a proper room, so I headed down the spiral staircase to the cellar and hammered on a low door down the corridor from the dungeon.

‘Don’t come in…’  Finn began, but it was too late.

‘Oh, good grief.’  I hadn’t seen a midden like it since my mother’s final decline.  A space only slightly larger than Henry’s pantry housed a mattress – with Finn and Bran huddled under a thin duvet – a haphazard pile of books, and a battered chest of drawers.  The floor was hidden from view by a collection of discarded clothes, lager cans, bottles, empty cigarette packets and an entire drift of supermarket carrier bags.  The drawers had disgorged most of their contents, and now existed as a platform for eight mugs, all of them containing enough mould to qualify as an intelligent life form, and at least a dozen empty temazepam blister packs.

‘Welcome to my world,’ Finn said, stoned as hell.

Finn

‘If I’d ‘ve known I was expecting company, would’ve tidied round a bit.’  I attempted a smile, but couldn’t quite get my face to work.  I hadn’t anticipated entertaining a guest when I’d emptied an entire strip of dope down my neck.

I lit another cigarette from the one that I was about to finish whilst Lilith just stood there for what might have been hours and stared at the bombsite that had passed for home for the last three years.  Lost for words like I had never seen her before.

Then as I sat, stunned and mute, she began to tidy up with a vengeance.

Random, accumulated crap was scooped up by the armful and thrown into a selection of stray carrier bags.   In one furious session, everything from cans to crumpled and empty sweet packets disappeared into one bag, clothes into another.  This latter collection included a great deal more discarded underwear than I was comfortable with, but the expression on Lilith’s face suggested that it was unwise to interrupt.

Finally, Lilith slumped onto the end of my mattress.  ‘What the hell is this place?’ she finally asked.  ‘It looks like a bloody prison cell.’

‘That’s because it is. Seventeenth century prison cell, to be accurate – one of the more modern additions.  Cromwell’s lot used it as a base in the Civil War, and built a gaol down here.  But hey, at least I get an ensuite.’