The Tied Man

‘Well, if you start with ‘Thanks for the drink,’ I’ll start with ‘Sorry I got you fucked in the mouth by an inadequate bastard’.’  Lilith took the bottle from me, uncorked it and handed it back.

I took a long drink, swilling the whiskey around my mouth to wash away the traces of vomit and semen.  Finally I swallowed, welcoming the burn of hard liquor as it hit the back of my throat.  ‘Thanks.’

‘Right, this is what I’m going to do now.’ Lilith took the bottle from me and tipping a healthy shot or three down her own throat.  ‘On the basis that I can’t even begin to unravel the shit I’ve just witnessed, I’m entering an official period of denial.  I’m going to get Henry to run me over to that delightful pub in the village so I can get pissed on overpriced vodka and listen to crap on the jukebox.  If you want to join me, I’ll be there until your curfew.’  Without waiting for a reply, she set off back down the corridor.  ‘And I’m buying,’ she called as she retreated.

Lilith

I stared unblinking at my seventh double vodka and tonic.  Such was my demeanour that no-one approached me, and even the lecherous landlord of the Fox and Grapes kept a disrespectful distance.

Henry had been surprised at the late request for transport to shore, but one look at my face had him putting down his copy of GQ and fetching his coat.  Now I cursed myself for presuming that Finn might want to join me.  I took a mouthful that drained the glass and walked over to the jukebox, staring at tracks that hadn’t been changed since before the millennium and not caring what I chose as long as the noise blocked out the sound of Alasdair Dalziell’s obscene cry of pleasure that refused to leave my skull.

‘Mine’s a pint.’

Finn stood behind me, dark-ringed, bloodshot eyes still not quite meeting mine.  ‘So.  D’you reckon we can get pissed in an hour and a half?’

‘I don’t know.  You’ve got some serious catching up to do.’

‘Bring it on. In fact, you don’t fancy making that two pints and a chaser, do you?  Double, if you’re feeling flash.  I think I puked up most of Blaine’s brandy.’*****Finn sat down to join me at a sticky, wobbling table in the furthest corner of the bar and pulled the frayed cuffs of his grey hooded top over knuckles that were raw from being forced down his throat.  He took up his first drink without meeting my eye, and was halfway down the glass before he finally spoke.  ‘Back there. I didn’t want… that.  Him.’

‘I know,’ I said from under the table as I jammed a folded beer mat under one of its wooden legs.

He gave a hard laugh of disdain.  ‘Yeah, right.  It’d be me giving him a blowjob that convinced you, huh?’

I re-emerged. ‘Oh come on, Finn.  What I saw back there had fuck all to do with desire, and everything to do with that twat stating his dominance.  I’m surprised he didn’t just dispense with the formalities and pin you down by the neck before mounting you.’

He risked a dark smile.  ‘He’s probably saving that one for next time.’

‘It’s not even that it didn’t matter to him what your feelings were about the matter, is it? The very fact that you don’t ‘want it’ is the unique selling point.’

The first pint disappeared before he spoke again.  ‘Is there nothing you miss?’

The double whiskey vanished next.

‘No.’ I shrugged.  ‘Not really.’

‘You’re also kinda hard to shock.’

‘It might happen one day,’ I assured him.  ‘Look, if you’re in the mood, feel free to talk.  I warn you now I truly am the world’s worst shrink  – I find my opinion keeps getting in the way, but at least I’m pissed so I won’t remember in the morning.’

‘I dunno.  The few times I’ve opened my mouth in the past I’ve sounded like one of those books – y’know, ‘How Shite Was My Childhood – A True Story by yet another Irish White-Trash Bastard’.’

‘Ooh, we could have a Crap Parent competition,’ I suggested.  ‘I could enter my father in the ‘Lying, Spineless Twat’ category and I reckon my mother’d be a dead cert for the ‘Schizophrenic Anorexic Prostitute’ class.’

‘At least your mother had the sense to get paid for it.  All mine ever got was half a ton of gold-plated jewellery and recurrent herpes.  Mind you, give the woman her due: she did provide me with a fine succession of uncles.’  He raised his glass to ghosts.