I had never sobered up so fast in my life. A pint of breakfast vodka evaporated from my bloodstream like magic and as I leapt into Bruno’s saddle I prayed that Lilith was as good a rider as she had claimed. A quarter of a mile away, on the margins of the cornfield, a horse’s chestnut flank flashed bright in the morning sun before it bolted into the woods. On Ruby’s back, thank an unusually benevolent God, sat Lilith Bresson.
As I might have guessed, she was doing everything right. Sitting deep into the saddle, letting Ruby have her head until she ran out of steam, and taking her uphill to slow the pace. Taking her uphill towards an abandoned quarry.
I kicked Bruno into a flat-out gallop as we hit the edge of the field.
At first sheer fury suppressed any fear, but as we crashed into dense woodland and Ruby still showed no sign of stopping I began to think that one or both of us was heading for certain death.
I didn’t know the terrain – had no idea if the next turn would bring us out onto a road, or some rock-studded field. I forced myself to breathe as normally as I could: my inhaler was in my t-shirt pocket but it may as well have been on the moon for all my hope of reaching the bloody thing.
With the thundering of my pulse in my ears echoing Ruby’s hoof beats I didn’t hear Finn’s approach until he was next to me, matching Bruno’s gait to ours. At first I thought he was trying to ride me off and finish the job properly; he brought Bruno level with Ruby’s right flank and reined him hard to the left so that my mare was forced to break her stride. She stumbled and veered so wildly that I had to throw myself across her neck to stay mounted.
As Ruby staggered back to her feet, ready to bolt again, Finn dived out of his saddle and caught my reins with both hands. My horse made one last attempt to rear out of his grip but the fire had gone out and she finally came to a trembling, wild-eyed halt. I dismounted and prepared to murder him.
Finn stood with Ruby, panting for breath and ashen-faced. ‘Quarry,’ he panted by way of explanation, and pointed.
My knees nearly gave way and I had to hold on to the saddle as I saw the drop just behind me. We were perhaps five metres from the edge of an overgrown maw in the landscape, where a solitary mouldering, lichen-covered sign warned, ‘DANGER – KEEP OUT.’ We wouldn’t have stood a chance.
At first I thought she might be in shock. ‘I’m
so
sorry,’ I began, but then Lilith turned on me with the same fury I had watched her unleash on that fat bastard on the TV and I seriously feared for my balls.
‘
Sorry
?’ she hissed, ‘You try to fucking kill me and you think ‘sorry’ is going to cut it? What the fucking hell were you thinking? The poor bloody animal’s probably lame for life!’ Lilith ran a hand down Ruby’s foaming near-hind leg. ‘Burning up. You twat. You stupid, ignorant son-of-a-bitch twat.’
‘Look, I won’t lie to you – I wanted to give you a scare, sure, but I didn’t think she’d go that crazy. She’s been stabled up for the last couple of days. I didn’t know – I just…’ I stupidly decided to try and defend myself. ‘Look, I just saved your life…’
‘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.
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.’