And then they put me back to work.
Chapter 26
April 2038
Later on that spring, Sonia came to the house early one morning, as usual, to clean for me and met Tanya for the first time. Tanya had just arrived. She had not changed; she was still in her working clothes and was standing next to me when Sonia came marching in, carrying her cleaning equipment. She came to an abrupt halt. They looked each other up and down.
‘Who’s this?’ asked Tanya with a sneer.
‘My cleaning lady,’ I said.
Tanya looked surprised. ‘You have a cleaning lady?’
‘Oh, I don’t pay her,’ I said.
Tanya shook with laughter and gave Sonia another look.
‘And who are you?’ asked Sonia, with a touch of ice in her voice.
‘This is the lady I mentioned to you,’ I said.
Tanya smiled broadly at Sonia. ‘I’m his pet whore,’ she said.
Sonia had no reason to doubt her. Tanya was, as I said, still dressed for work. Sonia stood uncertainly for just a moment. Tanya made her mind up for her. ‘We don’t need you this week, darling,’ she said in her sweetest voice. ‘I’ll do for him for now.’ She gave a squeal of laughter and Sonia stormed out. I wouldn’t have minded but cleaning was not what Tanya had come for. Tanya did not do cleaning. We lived in a mess all the time she stayed with me.
***********************
Suddenly people found a reason to come and visit me. It was impossibly busy and Tanya started to complain. I told her to do us both a favour and go down to the shop for some whisky for me – making sure she was seen by everyone – and then we would be left alone.
She did that. She marched down one bright morning, dressed in her best. She introduced herself to as many people as she could and then marched back up the hill again. The men openly lusted after her and the women became tight lipped, but it did the trick, we were left alone after that.
She was always known as David’s whore.
Tanya was very attractive, in a worn-out sort of way. She looked tired – too many men in her bed I guess; something I could identify with. It leaves a certain look. She had that indefinable weariness that comes with the profession and she was a pen pusher. Her arms were scarred with the marks of a thousand highs. She caused some excitement during – and for some time after – her visit. There was little else to talk about, and the charming Tanya was a gift for a bored community. All of which would have been enough, but then my daughter arrived.
Next time Tanya came to visit she brought her daughter Caitlin to stay. She was nine years old. I took Caitlin everywhere with me, and she was quick to tell everyone she met that I was her daddy. I stood by looking embarrassed, but did nothing to contradict her; so, she was believed. I was twenty-five years old at the time. No one knew my real age, particularly Caitlin, and although it’s not impossible to father a child at sixteen years old, anyone who knew me would have guessed it to be unlikely – but that was the whole point, no one did know me.
Andrew, who still came to visit, watched the whole episode in silent amusement; out of the entire village, he was the only one to guess the truth.
Caitlin was a precocious nine-year-old, who had lived her entire life in a convent. She had no idea what her mother’s profession really was; she believed her to be some sort of executive. She’d spent nearly all her life being looked after by nuns; she boarded there full time, including holidays. Tanya’s work did not allow for time with children.
Coming to me was a release from her convent prison – not that she necessarily considered it a terrible place. On my first meeting with her she told me her plans for becoming a nun, so I guess she could not have been too unhappy, and yet she obviously loved coming to the wilds of the Highlands and staying with me. I was the first man to talk to her, pay her any attention, spend time with her; in short, I must be her father, why else would I treat her like that? She did not consider simple kindness. Why would she, when she had never met it in a man before?
When she asked whether she could call me Father, I said yes; I couldn’t say no. It was such a small thing to ask and, after all, I came from a family where I called my nephew, brother, so why not?
Tanya was delighted to find a father for her daughter and embraced the idea enthusiastically. She even told the nuns about me. That was a bit of a surprise, but, as she said, how could she not? Caitlin talked about me all the time; if Tanya had told the nuns the truth, they would have felt obliged to do the same to Caitlin. I couldn’t argue with that. So, soon I had established my reputation as a man with a whore and a daughter. It was not an entirely accurate reputation, but I had ceased to care by then and I had more important things to consider.
For the record though, Tanya only ever visited me because she wanted a break from her work. The last thing she wanted was to be fucked by an ugly bastard like me. We never shared a bed. The only female company I had was Caitlin who, in the morning, would slip in for a cuddle with her daddy, and that was wonderful. A warm hug from an innocent daughter is a gift. I spent many a morning with her lying next to me, chatting about her work and friends at school, confiding her plans to be a nun, what she wanted to do that day, her hopes, her wishes, her fears. In short, she shared her mind with me. I hoped she wouldn’t become a nun; one day a man would be lucky to have such a clever, warm and beautiful woman next to him.
Caitlin remained my daughter even when she had worked out the logistics and plausibility of my really being her father – and she has never stopped calling me Daddy.
***********************
The year after Judith died was the year I began to establish a new routine. I had a life to rebuild and I was living with people who seemed to think well of me. Mostly – there was still the Mackay brothers. They had not gone away and their vendetta against me had not disappeared, either. Before Caitlin came it was something I was prepared to deal with when it occurred, but once Caitlin arrived I began to worry that something might happen to her. If I was a target then so was she. It was clear; I needed to do something about the Mackay brothers.
Chapter 27
May 2038
I had been absent for most of the spring, visiting old memories, some of them very tender – Tanya and Caitlin had been the result of one of those visits. They were essential but they tired me. Looking into the past had exposed raw emotion. I thought I understood anguish until one day in May.
I was home and catching up. I had my computer switched on and was working. My computer reminded me about birthdays and anniversaries. It was logged into local events. It kept me informed. It was my computer who told me about the funeral of my brother. He was not my real brother; I called him brother and I loved him as a brother. I sat looking into the distance and waited for the night to close in and wrap my eyes in blindness. It didn’t. I waited for the tears, the outpouring of grief. Nothing happened. I waited for some emotion, anything, something, inside me. Nothing happened and so I reached for the whisky bottle. It seemed the best thing to do.
***********************
Sonia found me and immediately went to fetch the doctor. She had the sense to do that much. She knocked on his door, it was late and he was at home. ‘You’d better go and visit David,’ she said. ‘He’s blind drunk!’
‘How blind drunk?’ asked Andrew cautiously.
‘He was completely incoherent; didn’t recognise me; talked absolute nonsense and smells disgusting!’ Her contempt for me was probably at its strongest.
Andrew came at once and he brought my medicine. Everything that Sonia said was true. An empty bottle of whisky lay on the floor and another sat on the table, half-full. I’m surprised I hadn’t poisoned myself. Perhaps I wanted to. The doctor washed me down, tucked me in bed and gave me my medicine. ‘Why David?’ he asked, as he sat by me.
I opened my eyes. I couldn’t see him, of course, but I could imagine the disappointment on his face. I had seen little of him since we had discussed the lock. ‘This is not g
ood,’ he muttered. ‘Please, don’t say this is my fault.’
‘He’s dead,’ I whispered.
‘What?’
‘He would have waited for me but I never came.’
‘Who, David?’
And, at last, I wept like a baby.
**********************
‘You’re too soft with him,’ said a voice I recognised.
The voice belonged to a man called Geoff Whitely, a cold sadist, one of my more particular clients, a frequent visitor and a friend of the family. He was a pimp; I felt sorry for the women in his charge. He was devoid of any feelings. He voice was flat and unemotional; he moved languidly and without interest; when he mounted me it was more about inflicting pain than receiving pleasure – I doubt that he knew the meaning of the word. At least the other perverts seemed to gain some twisted satisfaction out of what they did.
But not Geoff Whitely – or Whitey, as he was known – no, Whitey was different. He was an agent of hate. He could feel nothing but he knew how to incite emotion in others. He was one of the top layer, a star amongst the twisted far right; he was feared, respected, listened too and he was clever. He was dangerous in every sense of the word.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Spider.
‘Look at the lazy bastard lying there.’
‘No punters tonight.’
‘Not yet.’
‘It’s three in the morning. We’re not going to get much now.’
‘Even so.’ Whitey was walking around my bed, looking down at my naked sprawled body. I knew he was walking around me because his voice moved around the room.
‘The bastard made a fool of you. And you let him. He should never have been allowed to think he could escape. Time you showed him who’s in charge.’
He moved around me. He poked me with his foot and then he seemed to make up his mind. ‘I’ll put the bastard to some use and then I’ll show you what you do with him when he’s not working.’
Spider left him to it, and Whitey set to work. He was, if nothing else, thorough. He had me up on my knees and bent over. He put the bridle on, pushed my face into the ground and went for it; when he finished he put me to roost.
That was his phrase.
It was a simple enough procedure. First, he put the lock in; then, he ran a chain through the back of my collar, clipping it to the ceiling, and he pulled the chain tight. I was pulled to my feet, my arms were kept bound to the back of my waistband and the front bar was shortened, forcing me to bend over. It left me crouched and on tiptoe. I couldn’t lie down; the chain wouldn’t allow it. I couldn’t sleep. I had to keep moving to prevent the collar from strangling me.
I moved; I kept a slow rhythmic pace in a small circle, moving my feet up and down, slowly, cautiously.
From then on, when Spider or Amos prepared me for the evening, they put me to roost – at least until morning, when they would release my bonds and let me sleep. Sometimes they forgot and left me there all day. I suspect that Whitey advised them that occasionally it was good to forget, just so I would know who was in charge.
Chapter 28
July 2038
That summer, Tanya relinquished total responsibility for Caitlin to me. ‘Time to look after your daughter,’ she announced.
I was lounging in my usual chair, looking across at the lochs. ‘What?’ I said, sitting up.
‘You’ve been a bloody awful father, so far,’ she said. ‘You’ve been neglecting your responsibilities for far too long; time to make up.’
I stared in astonishment. This is how a myth can become a reality. All you have to do is believe. ‘So, what are you suggesting?’
‘She can spend the summer with you. I have work to do. You don’t do anything.’
‘Only my writing,’ I said sarcastically.
‘Call that work?’
‘Tanya ...’
‘I canna believe how you’ve managed to dodge your responsibilities for this long.’
I gave up. ‘Alright, send her to me.’
She did, just two days later, and Caitlin stayed the entire summer. Tanya came up for an occasional visit, but not often. Strange to say, Caitlin didn’t seem to mind. ‘Mummy thinks you’ve been very naughty,’ she informed me one morning over breakfast.
‘Does she now.’
She nodded seriously. ‘She said you were a typical man, trying to avoid the consequences of your own actions.’
I looked at the little sage carefully. ‘Your mother is very wise,’ I said. ‘Make sure you listen to her.’
‘I will,’ she assured me.
She was true to her word; on her first Sunday with me, she announced we would be going to the kirk together.
I took her down to Sonia and passed her spiritual guidance over to someone more appropriate.
Sonia did not take kindly to Caitlin. She was not pleased with being landed with my bastard daughter. ‘You’ve a cheek!’ she said angrily.
‘That’s what Mummy says,’ said Caitlin.
Sonia glanced down at the serious little face, uncertain as to whether she was being laughed at. ‘You seem to enjoy avoiding your responsibilities,’ she said.
‘That’s what Mummy says,’ said Caitlin again.
Sonia was in her stride. ‘You can’t go through life in denial; you have to face up to reality. You just don’t take things seriously enough!’
‘Mummy said exactly the same thing!’ exclaimed Caitlin in triumph. ‘See, Daddy, I told you so!’
Sonia had been brought to a stop – no easy task – and she glared down at Caitlin. ‘Don’t you ever shut up?’ she said crossly.
Caitlin shook her head. ‘No, and Mummy said that that was Daddy’s fault as well.’
Sonia looked back at me, still scowling. I simply smiled and shrugged my shoulders. ‘I’ll be here to pick her up after the service,’ I said and kissed Caitlin goodbye.
***********************
I was late coming back to the kirk; even now, after all this time, I often underestimated how long it took me to hobble about.
When I arrived, the congregation was still milling about, standing in small groups in the summer sunshine, chatting and gossiping. The sun was bright, creating sharp shadows and vivid, garish colours; I knew the scene well. I scoured the people, impatiently. I could see no sign of Caitlin or Sonia. Some people nodded to me and smiled – and still I looked. I saw Euan Mackay with his mother; he glared across at me but, because of the number of people around, was prevented from actually doing anything. Soon the street began to empty; still no sign of my daughter. I wandered into the cool dark interior of the kirk. I could smell the damp and sweat of the congregation. My heart was beating so loudly I could hear it thumping in my ears; still no sign. I saw one of the wardens and went up to her. ‘Where’s my daughter?’ I asked.
The warden looked surprised. ‘She’s in class with the minister,’ she said, gathering the flowers up and wiping the surface clean with her hand.
‘What?’
She glanced up again. ‘The children always have a lesson after the service; surely you’ve not forgotten that?’
I had. I felt my body grow cold. ‘Would you go and fetch her?’ I asked, trying to keep my voice calm.
‘Oh, no, I couldn’t do that! It wouldn’t be right; anyway, they won’t be long now; just you sit and wait.’
I debated with myself and then sat down on one of the pews. People were still standing around inside the kirk, some were cleaning and tidying, some were parents waiting for their children, huddled together whispering gossip.
A few minutes later, a door at the back of the church opened and some children came out, followed by Drummond and Sonia. I stood up, leaning heavily against my crutch. I could feel my body shaking. Caitlin came running up to me. She had a piece of paper in her hand, covered in her scribbles. She was grinning; she looked very happy; then she saw my face. She came to an abrupt stop and her smile faded. ‘Caitlin, wait for me outside,’ I said. She was about to argue, but somet
hing in my voice or face told her not to. She went outside; years of living at the convent had taught her obedience.
Sonia and Drummond came up to me. The kirk was still buzzing with people; I didn’t care. I kept my voice steady, but the fury could still be heard – he could hear it, I’m sure of it. ‘I didn’t give permission for this,’ I said.
‘David,’ said Sonia. ‘All the children attend class after the service.’
‘Not my daughter!’ I growled, never taking my eyes off Drummond. I wanted him to look into my yellow devil’s eyes. I wanted him to fear me.
‘But, David,’ she began.
I moved in close to Drummond. ‘And if I ever get even the slightest hint that you’ve touched my daughter, I will personally come and cut off your balls,’ I said. He didn’t flinch.
Sonia cried out. She glanced around at the people standing by, who were all desperate to hear what was being said – without wanting it to look like that was what they were doing. ‘David, how could you? Apologise at once!’
I turned to her. ‘I’ve met plenty of perverts in my life,’ I said. ‘I can smell them.’ I looked back at Drummond. ‘I can smell you.’
‘David!’ Sonia was outraged. So, I expect, was the listening congregation.
Drummond smiled. I had never seen him smile before, but he smiled now – a smile that contained no humour. ‘It’s alright, Sonia,’ he said smoothly. ‘This particular sinner can do nothing to harm me. He will burn in hell; he knows it, I know it, everyone knows it.’ He turned around to incorporate those listening. ‘He will burn in hell’s own fire,’ he continued, ‘and then he will look up to me in paradise and I will smile.’
‘Hell? I’ve already been there,’ I said, ‘and, don’t worry; I could smell you watching me.’
I walked away.
***********************
Shortly after this incident Sonia and Fraser Drummond announced their intention to be married. I really didn’t expect a wedding invitation. Sonia was furious with me; she later told the doctor that it was my wicked behaviour that had prompted her to agree to the marriage earlier than she had otherwise stated. Drummond looked ridiculously pleased with himself. Sonia appeared even sharper and a little sterner than usual, and everyone else was absolutely delighted; people had already tired of talking about me and were grateful for something new to talk about.
The Dream Catcher Diaries Page 22
