First time when I was fifteen, last time the day before I made it to this paradise. The ‘nasty piece of smackhead rough-trade that got lucky’ place.’įinn nodded. You know, the one you so accurately guessed yesterday afternoon. ‘Means I stand bugger-all chance of working out what’s truth and what’s the latest twisted fantasy. ‘And it blurs the boundaries, doesn’t it?’ Finn added. ‘I wouldn’t say it quite so crudely, but yes, that’s about right.’ It sounded so wantonly cruel that I looked to Henry for confirmation. And because she gets off on fucking with my head.’ ‘Because she hoped it would get you in the mood to want to smack the living shit out of me. ‘So if she planned on me refusing your initial offer, why send you in the first place?’įinn drew hard on his cigarette. ‘She’ll have built in contingency for you saying ‘no’ right from the start.’ ‘Yes, she’s telling the truth, and yes, she could – has – done it.’ He pulled the last cigarette from its pack and lit it, curling his tongue around the blue smoke. ‘No, no, I’m sure…’ Henry began, but Finn silenced him with a raised hand. Apparently she could reach him at a moment’s notice. Even some bloody memo from his teacher to the head about packed lunches for a school trip. ‘She showed me school photographs, reports, everything. They’re working miracles with him.’ I drained my mug again. ‘You could tell us if you wanted to.’ Henry joined us at the table and pouring me another inch of brandy. ‘Feel free.’ Finn took the lighter from me when my trembling fingers failed to make it work. ‘May I?’ I asked, taking a cigarette without waiting for a reply.

If I were you I’d be packing my kit – if you’re not swayed by flaying me alive, she’ll be busy finding another way to keep you on the island.’

‘Anyway, I don’t know why you’re down here wasting time playing Florence fucking Nightingale. It would take years for a scar to fade to this translucent memory. Under the angry grid of most recent marks, I could see a fainter web of silver-white lines across the man’s back and shoulders. He leaned across the table to take another cigarette from its battered pack. ‘Looks worse than it feels,’ Finn replied, which was no answer at all.

The Tied Man by Tabitha McGowan