Gabby came to the restaurant as promised. She’d procured some maps, but they were geographical ones and only showed a few dwellings—and those in no detail. But they were topographically detailed of the lake. Ben took them from her and began to study them.
“Shall we have a drink?”
Ben nodded absently but didn’t look up, circling the few properties he could identify.
“Well, I’ll order some wine, shall I? Can I help? I know the area quite well, of course. Not so much the lake but certainly around the town.”
Ben looked up. “Do you have a boat?”
She turned away, waving toward the bar for the bartender to come over. “No, of course not.”
“Damn, I need to borrow one.”
“Oh. I could ask around at work, maybe? I’m sure someone will have one.” She ordered some wine—red when she couldn’t elicit any preference from Ben. She waited for him to pour then giggled and did it herself. “WhatcanI do to help? Have you got somewhere to stay? I’ve got a spare room, and you’re?”
“No, I’m good. But thanks, Gabby, I really appreciate this. I need to go.”
“Go? But you haven’t had your wine! We haven’t ordered yet! You must eat, Ben!”
“Ordered? Food?” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. He thought it might have been the stuff he threw up in the cell, but that had been almost twenty-four hours ago. He sat again heavily. “I need to eat. Fucking hell!” He’d added this last in English because it never sounded as good in Danish, but he could see from her expression she understood it quite well. He ordered some food and asked Alan if he could hurry it. Alan jokingly asked him if there was a fire, and Ben replied surprised, “Haven’t you heard?”
“Heard what?”
“A friend of mine has gone missing. I’m sorry. I assumed you’d know. I seem to have done nothing but talk about it to people since it happened last night.”
“It’s a big island, Ben. Let me know if there’s anything you need.”
“Do you have a boat?”
Alan nodded. “All Danes have boats. Where do you want me to bring it?”
Ben could have kissed him. Instead, he squeezed Gabby’s fingers. There was a glimmer of hope at last. She squeezed back and retained his hand, staring at him over the wine. Then she stood up. “Come here, sweetie, let me give you a hug.”
Ben didn’t need this. It was the last thing he could cope with. He wasn’t used to the sympathy of women as he’d lost his mother so young. Held like this, he felt totally eviscerated, raw and utterly vulnerable. He didn’t need it, but hewantedit so much. He wanted nothing more than to bury his pain in this maternal woman’s arms and let her mother him until it all went away. She even stroked his hair, just like his mother used to. Alan brought them some food and explained he’d arranged for his boat to be towed up to Ben’s cabin in the morning. There was nothing anyone could do that night. Ben tried to eat his steak, but it stuck in his throat and sickened him. Gabby was making small talk, trying to cheer him up. She repeated her offer of a bed, and he suddenly agreed, “Actually, I’ve some friends arriving tomorrow. It would be great if they could stay with you.”
She sat back, picked up her handbag and began to rummage in it. “I only have one room…”
“Well, just Kate then.”
“Kate? You never told me about Kate.” She smiled and sipped her wine. “Is she your sister? Oh, Ben, I can’t wait to meet her.”
Ben was looking again at the maps, trying to work out where his cabin was. He mumbled, “Ex-girlfriend.”
“Oh, well. Why is she coming?”
Ben grinned unpleasantly. “She’s bringing my secret weapon.”
§ § §
Nikolas was awake when the door to the shed next opened. It let in a brilliant light from the snow outside. He was totally blinded. He got on his knees, head lowered, showing submission.Rule 5: Prove you’re no threat(and not worth killing—he made up that part of the rule, but who was going to call him on it?). He heard the door being closed and looked up cautiously. It didn’t bode well, in his professional opinion, that he wasn’t blindfolded. He blinked a couple of times then exclaimed in a croaky, amazed voice, “Anna?”
She went to the butcher’s table and put a basket on it. “You’ve made a terrible mess! Look at what you’ve done!”
“What? Mess? You fucking psychotic cunt of a fucking bitch! Let me go! You cunt. You fucking ugly, fat whore! I thought I was being held by the fuckingChechens! I thought fuckingSpecial Forceshad taken me down. I thought I was going to be hung up and fuckingcastrated! I thought I was going to beskinned by electric sanders! But I’ve been chained by a cunt in a skirt who thinksshe’s in love with my fucking boyfriend!Fuck you!Fucking come back?!” He lunged, stretched to the extent of the chains, screaming at her as she left. He couldn’t even reach the basket.
Rule 1 clearly needed a little work.
§ § §
