Authors: Frederic Lindsay
At
some
time
later,
he
wakened
out
of
a
dream
full
of
turning locks
and
the
sounds
of
bolts
being
drawn
back.
The
bed
beside
him
was
empty.
A debtor to mercy alone
he'd
learned
that
for
Miss
Geddie
of covenant mercy I sing
all
of
them
had
learned
nor fear with thy righteousness on
he
sang
and
the
words
turned
to
ice
and
erected
themselves
in
silver
spears
glittering
from
his
lips
my person and offering to bring
learned
it
out
of
fear,
they
were
all
terrified
of
her,
as
a
child
learned
it
well
to
remember
always
the terrors of law and of God
who
turned
in
his
arms
with
Frances,
two
women
side
by
side,
Miss
Geddie
so
strong,
he
saw
her
hand
on
Frances,
cold
it
was
colder
than
anyone
could
bear,
colder
than
anyone
could
live
and
bear,
anguish,
spears
of
ice
thrust
in
him,
a
cold
agony
with me can have nothing to do
and
he
held
a
naked
body
in
his
arms
and
went
forward
through
the
passage
that
pulsed
like
a
living
thing
only
the
pulses
were
round
eyes
of
glass
picking
up
light
from
the
torch
behind
him
and
he
carried
her
in
the
body
of
the
giant,
the
ice
giant,
so
cold,
forced
down
like
a
mouthful
of
chewed
meat
in
the
pulsing
tunnel
and
got
here
at
last,
to
the
belly
of
the
giant,
mummy,
a
belly
of
ice
my Saviour's obedience and blood
Jesus,
was
she
smiling
at
him
with
those
teeth
striped
with
blood,
so
strong
Miss
Geddie,
her
hand
on
Frances,
two
women
side
by
side,
and
then
the
blood
came
out
of
Frances's
mouth,
bright
blood
striping
her
skin,
covering
her
teeth,
she
came
close
to
him,
he
would
warm
himself
upon
her
naked
flesh,
he
knew
her
body,
felt
the
little
gristle
under
the
left
nipple
roll
between
his
fingers,
put
fingers
in
her
mouth,
in
her
arse,
in
the
crack
of
her
sex,
erected
the
cold
spear
of
his
prick
to
stab
into
her,
into
her
warmth
melt
in
her,
sorry,
Miss
Geddie,
sorry,
Miss
Geddie,
Frances
came
on
top
of
him,
her
fault
her
fault,
and
was
colder
than
any
ice,
colder than
regret
colder
than
righteousness,
colder
than
Miss
Geddie
when
you
were
naughty
hide all my transgressions from view
spears
of
denial
lifted
into
the
glittering
air
from
his
lips,
not
naughty,
a
man,
not
to
be
frightened
by
their
bogeys
by
their
lies,
the
I
thing,
melting
in
Frances,
listen
for
the
truth
in
the
dark,
holding
darkness
in
his
hands,
her
lips
open
over
him.
What
is love?
S
he
moved
on
him,
lay
on
him,
rubbed
her
breasts
and
crotch
on
him;
when
she
laughed,
he
choked
on
the
foulness
of
her
breath
FRIDAY,
OCTOBER
12TH
For
Murray,
it
seemed
that
each
waking
of
his
brother
was
like
a
journey.
All
of
them
were
impossibly
far,
and
often
he
would
open
his
eyes
and
be
gone
again,
turning
back.
Watching
Malcolm's
head
roll
and
the
querulous
thinning
of
his
lips,
it
was
easy
to
wish
for
him
more
peace
than
waking
could
bring.
Seated
by
the
bed,
Murray
found
the
quietness
disturbing.
Even
in
the
white
hours
of
the
early
morning,
the
wards
he
had
been
washed
into
as
a
victim
had
sighed,
bustled,
clanged,
groaned.
In
this
room
it
was
quiet.
The
loudest
noise
was
the
altered
sound
of
Malcolm's
breathing.
With
a
start,
he
realised
his
brother
was
watching
him.
'W
here's
Mother?'
He
had
to
bend
close
to
catch
the
words.
'She's
not
gone
long.
She'll
be
back
soon.'
'Why
are
you
always
here?'
The
whisper
was
puzzled
and
fretful.
Murray
got
up
and
went
across
to
the
door.
Through
the
glass, he
could
see
into
the
short
length
of
corridor.
It
was
deserted.
'I'm
supposed
to
let
them
know
when
you
wake
up.'
Malcolm
looked
in
the
direction
of
the
bell.
His
head
and
then
his
eyes
moved
very
slowly,
with
an
underwater
slowness.
It's
not
going
to
be
any
good,
Murray
thought.
Even
if
I
get
time
alone with
him,
he'll
remember
walking
through
the
streets
to
her
flat,
perhaps
a
little
more
than
last
time,
but
we'll
hit
the
barrier
again.
On
the
other
side
of
the
black
line
struck
through
that
night,
there
was
only
a
kaleidoscope
of
lunatic
fragments.