The Tied Man

by McGowan, Tabitha

  ‘Saved my life, you arsehole? At which point does putting me on the back of that creature ,’ she jabbed a finger at Ruby, ‘constitute saving my bloody life?’ Her words rang off the stones of the quarry.

  ‘You said you could ride... I assumed you’d have been hunting since you were crawling and -’ I didn’t get to finish the sentence. Lilith was incandescent.

  ‘Oh please tell me that isn’t what this was all about. Some one-man class war? For fuck’s sake, Finn! I didn’t have any more choice over where I was bloody well born than you did, so the day I judge you for your sack-of-shit heritage is the day you get to do it to me. Clear?’

  ‘Well you’re the first person I’ve ever met who’s picked up a hockey injury.’

  Lilith narrowed her eyes. ‘Right. I’ll tell you what happened there, shall I? Stacey-Marie Collins and half-a-dozen of her delightful comrades hauled me behind the bike sheds after she’d found a stray photocopy of a cartoon I did of her as an Alsatian bitch on heat. She got them to hold me down while she dispensed justice with the business end of her hockey stick.’

  I winced despite myself. ‘I didn’t think they let that kind of thing go on at the posh schools.’

  ‘It wasn’t a ‘posh school’, you presumptuous little shit. Do you think my mother and I set up in a South Ken penthouse when we got kicked out?’

  ‘I don’t know – I hadn’t thought ...’

  ‘Yeah, and doesn’t it show?’ Lilith snapped. ‘We kept what we could carry. We spent the first week in a hostel then moved into a council flat in Peckham. Within three days I’d been hospitalised with asthma from the damp and I returned home to find that my mother – on the basis that aliens were using next door as a bomb factory – had decorated the entire fucking kitchen with tinfoil. I then spent two delightful years at Saint Hilda’s school for teenage psychopaths before my father carried out his highly publicised rescue mission.’ Only now did she stop to draw breath, and I didn’t see her blink once during the entire tirade. ‘And believe me when I say I’m not fishing for sympathy here – I know there are others out there who’ve had more shit in one day than I’ve had in a lifetime – but I really sincerely fucking well hope I’ve just said enough to earn just a touch of credibility in the eyes of the official Dublin representative of the Great Unwashed.’ Lilith Bresson glared at me with glittering, sapphire-hard eyes and I forced myself to meet her gaze.

  Birds sang, a soft breeze shook the tops of the trees, and I spent painful moments trying not to puke up the vodka that was threatening a return journey and searching for something – anything – to say. Finally I found my voice. ‘Look, for what it’s worth I’m sorry. You’re right, I was a twat, and if I’d thought for a moment that things would go this wrong there’s no way on God’s earth I’d have done what I did. I wouldn’t put an animal at risk of heading over that edge, never mind a human being.’

  Lilith turned her back on me and ran a calming hand over Ruby’s sweat-darkened neck. I knew then that I’d blown it and I stood in a patch of morning sunlight and felt my stomach churn as the hangover kicked in for real.

  Lilith

  I rested my forehead against Ruby’s flank and breathed in the comforting smell of horse sweat and damp earth. Finally I turned to face the man I had just verbally flayed. Part of me still wanted to kick him into the quarry, but his apology had cost him dear and I had known bigger men than Finn Strachan run rather than face out the worst excesses of my rage. ‘Well, at least you didn’t use your start to the day as an excuse.’

  ‘How…? Ah fuck, Henry.’ Finn subconsciously rubbed at the sticking plaster in the crook of his left arm and I could see the reddened skin around his wrists and biceps where he’d been held down. ‘That shite of a man will not keep his mouth shut.’‘I’m not the enemy here, Finn.’

  ‘I know. I know you’re not.’

  ‘Then do me a bloody huge favour. Don’t fight me. Please.’

  Finn looked at me in surprise. ‘Is that it?’

  ‘Is what ‘it’?’

  ‘You – the bollocking – I mean, that’s all?’

  ‘Do you want some more?’

  He gave a sheepish smile. ‘Hell, no. It’s just that, well, let’s just say I’m used to slightly more far-reaching repercussions for my fuck-ups.’

  ‘I can imagine. No, as far as I’m concerned, that’s it done with. And it goes no further,’ I added, and watched naked relief appear in Finn’s eyes. He gave a nod and bent to inspect Ruby’s leg. The mare let him run practiced hands over her fetlock and pastern.

  ‘If you’re up to it, we could ride back down the stream,’ he suggested. ‘That should cool her down.’

  ‘Sounds a little more enjoyable than the outbound journey.’ I tightened my girth and remounted. ‘Mind you, she’s got a fair turn of speed on her, I’ll say that much.’ This time Ruby merely gave a snort of mild disapproval.

  ‘Yeah. Blaine’s always had an eye for good stock.’ Finn lithely pulled himself into the saddle.

  *****

  We used the meandering little stream as our path back to the lake, letting the horses pick their way down the pebbled bed at their own pace. I had a lot more time to take notice of my surroundings now, and for a while we rode alongside the towering granite wall that marked the far reaches of the Albermarle estate. Up close it looked more like a prison barricade than a boundary. ‘What happened when you tried to escape?’ I asked.

  ‘When. Not if. Do you ever get it wrong?’ Finn swung his left leg over his horse’s back so that he sat in a relaxed side-saddle, and cupped a cigarette in his hands to light it. He rode with insouciant ease and I knew he would have been one of those boys who kept a horse tethered on whatever piece of verge they could find on the big Dublin estates. Finally he asked, ‘What do you think?’

  I gave it some thought. ‘It won’t have been pretty. If Blaine’s prepared to hurt an autistic ten-year old just to get me to slap a bit of paint onto a canvas, I don’t want to imagine what she’s got hanging over you. But I reckon that wouldn’t have stopped you in the early days.’

  Amused, he narrowed his eyes against the haze of smoke. ‘What d’you mean?’

  ‘Serial escapologist. You might not be able to manage it physically any more, but you do it chemically whenever you can.’

  ‘You sure you’re not fucking psychic?’

  ‘Nope. Just extremely observant, and a reluctant expert on self-medication. So. What happened?’

  ‘About six months into my tenure I was in town with Henry and decided to do a runner. Thought I had nothing to lose, maybe even that Blaine was bluffing about the crap she could rain down. Then she called the police. The Chief Constable has an appointment with her every couple of months, so within an hour of me hitting shore, they had a fucking helicopter up; dogs, the lot.’ He paused to draw on his smoke. ‘They were told they were lookin’ for some filthy Irish bastard that’d just touched up a four year-old on holiday with her mammy and daddy.’

  ‘Nice.’

  ‘Oh yeah. Still, took ‘em six hours to find me,’ Finn smiled, a trace of pride still evident. ‘I’d spent years in Dublin hoofin’ it away from the gardai after we’d nicked a motor.’

  ‘And when they got you?’

  ‘As I remember,’ he began to count off on his fingers, ‘Two broken ribs, concussion, a cracked cheek bone and eye socket, and a kickin’ to my kidneys that had me pissing blood for the best part of a month.’

  ‘Is that all?’

  ‘There’d have been more, but about an hour into the party the desk sergeant got a call from Blaine saying it had all been a dreadful mistake, so they hosed me down, said sorry and drove me home.’ Finn flicked his cigarette butt into the stream where it sank with a quiet hiss. ‘So as you so beautifully put it, I use the chemical method these days.’

  ‘Do you mind me asking what?’

  Finn grinned. ‘I’m surprised you can’t guess,’ he challenged.

  ‘Do you want me to guess?’

>   He chewed at his lip for a moment. ‘Ah, why not.’

  ‘Right then. You’ve already said you were a smackhead, but I can’t imagine for a moment that Blaine would tolerate that. From the state of your eyes that night in the chamber of horrors I’d say there was some transference onto some heavy-duty tranquilliser and you’re not comatose all the time, which suggests something conveniently short-term.’

  Finn gave me a respectful nod. ‘So, your guess, Ms Bresson?’

  ‘Temazepam.’

  He threw back his head and laughed. ‘Fuckin’ hell, you’re good, woman.’

  I smiled. ‘I know.’

  ‘You seem pretty clued-up – ‘transference’ and all that lingo.’

  ‘My mother’s bedside drawer used to look like a pharmacist’s warehouse. Everything from lithium to beta blockers, either taken in one handful or spat across the room as the work of the devil, depending on which day of the week it was. Temazepam was one of her particular favourites. Nasty stuff – even the withdrawal can kill you.’

  ‘You’re tellin’ me. It was just meant to take the edge off my smack-rattle, at first.’ Finn picked away at a fragment of peeling leather on his reins. ‘But take enough of the fuckers and nothing else seems to matter, y’know? Problem is, before you know it you can’t stop even if you want to. Mind you, Blaine’s happy enough ‘cos it keeps me docile. It’s also a little easier to get hold of legally than heroin in darkest Northumbria.’

  ‘Ah. I was wondering about that.’

  ‘Lady Albermarle’s tame doctor,’ Finn explained as we left the stream and took up the tree-lined track that would lead us back to the stables. ‘Ingrid Parnell. She faced being struck off for fiddling prescriptions a couple of years ago. Blaine pulled one of her strings to keep it out of the courts, so now she owns her soul.’ He thumbed the crook of his arm. ‘And the stupid cow takes blood samples like a fucking butcher.’

  Finn

  It felt odd, divulging this miniscule corner of the unsaid to the woman I had just so nearly killed.

  Odd, not bad. But dangerous.

  The adage that knowledge was power was never truer than with Blaine Albermarle. Every aspect of a person’s life had a fixed value, became a thing to be traded and used at her whim. Experience had taught me that you kept such details close, yet in a fortnight Lilith had figured out more about me than anyone had ever cared to know, and I could only hope that she would hold it gently.

  The sudden roar of a car engine at full throttle made us both start. I looked over my shoulder and swung my leg back over the saddle, gathering my reins as I did so.

  ‘The fuckin’ idiot – Lilith, rein Ruby in and sit -’ I began, just as a red convertible screamed past us at what must have been at least seventy and Ruby simultaneously reared and leapt sideways into the hedge.

  Lilith went tumbling backwards and landed flat on her back in a patch of nettles and scrubby brambles. She rolled into a protective ball and all I could do was shut my eyes as Ruby’s flashing hooves missed her unprotected skull by inches. As the horse’s front feet touched the ground I managed to lean out and grab her reins before she disappeared over the horizon or trampled her rider to death.

  With hindsight, I would have been better off grabbing Lilith.

  As I tethered the horses to a low branch the car came to a halt about a hundred yards down the lane.

  ‘Wanker!’ Lilith screamed and leapt to her feet with a fist-sized lump of dried mud in her hand. The car began to reverse towards us and she launched her missile with impressive accuracy. Earth and grit exploded across the paintwork and left a visible dent in the bumper.

  The driver flung his door open and ran towards us. His face was contorted with rage. ‘You stupid bitch! Have you any idea how much this car cost?’ he yelled.

  ‘Too bloody much for that cock-substitute Jap-crap,’ Lilith hollered back and took a step towards her opponent.

  Johnny Buckle came to mind once more and I knew I couldn’t let that happen here. Not with this man. Without the time to explain why, the only thing I could think of was to step directly in front of Lilith and place a finger over her lips. ‘Hush.’

  Her right hand snapped around my wrist like a tiny vice and I could feel the strength that had allowed her to topple a man three times her size. I thought I was next in line to get lamped, but to my amazement she edged back and let her hands drop.

  I turned back to the driver of said cock-substitute. ‘She’s a guest at Albermarle Hall, Mr Dalziell,’ I explained then although it nearly choked me I added ‘Sir,’ for good measure. ‘Lilith Bresson. The artist?’

  I had never seen such a rapid transformation on a man’s face.

  ‘Oh my God,’ he grinned, ‘so it is! Lilith bloody Bresson, here in Albermarle! It’s an absolute pleasure.’ He offered his hand as though he had just been introduced at a cocktail party.

  I decided things couldn’t get much more surreal and cracked on with the introductions. ‘Lilith, this is Alasdair Dalziell – his family owns the neighbouring farm to Blaine’s estate,’ I explained. Lilith didn’t move, but at least it no longer looked like she was going to land him one.

  ‘Lady Albermarle to you isn’t it, you Paddy piece of shit?’ Dalziell’s eyes were still locked on Lilith. ‘As I said, rather unfortunate circumstances, but it is always a pleasure to meet such an attractive young lady.’

  ‘You drive like a total cunt,’ Lilith said. Fortunately now that her status was established this amused Dalziell beyond measure.

  ‘It’s been said before,’ he laughed, and surreptitiously took his unshaken hand away. ‘Just not quite so directly. I’d heard you had spirit.’

  ‘Yeah, and I almost had a fractured skull as well,’ Lilith replied.

  ‘Look, she’s had quite a fall,’ I explained, trying to sound reasonable. ‘I think it might be best if you get on your way for now and we’ll head into the village so the doctor can check her over.’

  I could have kissed his young Lordship’s fat white English arse for a month and it wouldn’t have done me a damn bit of difference. He rounded on me, his ruddy county-farmer’s face flushed purple. ‘Are you telling me what to do, Paddy?’

  I knew the drill from here; found a suitable spot on the ground to stare at and said, ‘I’m sorry, no, not at all. It was merely a suggestion.’

  ‘Didn’t think it was your job to ‘suggest’ anything,’ Dalziell smirked. He’d made enough visits to Blaine to know at least part of my set-up. It was going to take a bloody miracle for me not to get belted by him now.

  ‘To tell you the truth I am feeling a little faint.’ Lilith laid a hand on my arm. Dalziell’s focus snapped back to her.

  ‘I’m so sorry – here I am arguing with Paddy here and ignoring my damsel in distress. Would you like me to run you into the village?’

  ‘His name’s Finn. And no, thank you. I’ve had sufficient exposure to your driving to last a lifetime.’

  ‘Well if you’re quite sure.’

  ‘I’m very sure. I just need to sit here and get my breath back.’

  Dalziell gave her a courteous nod. ‘In that case, I hope I get to see you around when you’re feeling a little better. Perhaps we can meet for drinks?’ He strolled back to his car, and as he reached the door he turned to look at me. ‘And I’ll be seeing you. Finn.’ He did that ridiculous gesture of touching his index finger at his eye, then at me. Like I needed a visual aid.

  We watched him drive off, spinning his wheels and sending up a hail of road-grit as he went.

  Lilith sat down and took a blue inhaler from her pocket. She squirted it twice into her mouth. ‘Wanker.’

  ‘Can’t argue there.’ I sat down next to her. ‘D’you really want to see the doctor?’ I asked. ‘Because I’m telling you now, she’s shit. Took five fucking goes to find a vein this morning.’

  Lilith shook her head. ‘No, I’ll be okay. I’ll just dose up on codeine when I get back.’

  I gave a rueful smile. ‘Bet all this
has done your shoulder the world of good, huh?’

  ‘Not to mention the million and one nettle stings from my crash landing.’ A rash of pin-pricks covered Lilith’s bare arms.

  ‘Dock leaves.’ I pulled a handful of the dark, glossy leaves from the verge. I rolled them in my hands to crack the stems and handed them to Lilith. I didn’t have the courage to suggest that I apply them myself.

  She held them against her skin and winced. ‘Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow. Bloody idiot of a man.’

  ‘Him, or me?’

  ‘Him.’ She suddenly became serious. ‘That little scene cost you, didn’t it?’

  I shrugged. ‘Probably. But at the end of the day, everything I do costs me. The only question is how much.’

  Lilith stood and remounted. ‘I should have held back. I didn’t mean to cause you any more grief.’

  ‘You’re kidding, aren’t you?’ I laughed. ‘I was fucked the second I opened my mouth to the man. I’ll get it good style at some point when I least expect it. Nah, it was you I was trying to cover. He’s not a nice man at all.’

  ‘What, you’re telling me that you’ll get hurt for that little scene?’

  I nearly told her to fuck right off but then I saw the genuine surprise on her face. ‘He’s a friend of Blaine’s, Lilith. More than that, on occasion, but that’s nothing too unusual – she’d sooner shag Coyle than pay him a wage.’ I swung back into Bruno’s saddle and rode next to her. The last thing I wanted to do was to sound like I was patronising the woman, but there was stuff I needed to know she understood.

  It was easy to forget that other people lived in a world where rules and laws and common sense could keep you safe. A world where, if you did the right thing you were allowed to get on with your life in whichever way you chose. I suppose I had assumed that Lilith’s insight, that sharpness that led her to the heart of so much, would in some way let her understand everything.