The Courier & Advertiser (Perth and Perthshire Edition)

This is insane,” Surtsey said. “Let me go.” Donna shook her head. “I can’t”

- By Doug Johnstone Fault Lines, by Doug Johnstone, is published by Orenda Books and costs £8.99.

Surtsey took a few deep breaths, listening in between for any noise. A metallic creak, part of a building relaxing or contractin­g. A thin whisper of wind somewhere. She listened for waves but couldn’t hear any. Her eyelids fluttered open and she blinked over and over, screwing them shut again to get the blurriness away.

The thump in her head was still there, a constant beat of pain. She focused and looked around, the movement of her neck making pain soar through her again, forcing breath from her.

She knew where she was, recognised it immediatel­y, it was the scientific hut on the Inch.

She’d been here a dozen times, warmed her beans on the stove in the corner, left rock samples in the storage drawers to her left.

She was strapped to the bed. Her wrists were tied to the frame at either side with heavily knotted ropes.

She had about two inches of movement from the scratchy blanket she was lying on before the ropes dug into her skin.

Her feet were tied the same, through the frame at the bottom of the bed, a little looser so that she had a few more inches to move her legs, but not enough to help any.

Numbness

There was only low light from the small window behind her but it was still enough to see by. There was a large rucksack on the floor by the door, the one thing that seemed out of place.

She recognised everything else, the sparse furniture, the stove, the geological map on one wall. No electricit­y or running water, of course, a basic bothy.

The only amenity was a chemical toilet outside, a few yards down the slope away from the hut. Speaking of which, her bladder screamed at her.

Her headache persisted and her arms and legs felt fizzy with numbness.

She opened and closed her fists, tried to get blood flowing into her arms again, curled and uncurled her toes, tried not to think about relieving herself. The door opened.

“You’re awake,” Donna said.

She looked energised, wide-eyed, small pupils. She was carrying a black canvas holdall, which she placed on the floor.

She was beaming a smile as she raised her eyebrows at Surtsey.

Surtsey nodded at her wrist ties. “What on earth have you done?”

Donna sat on the bench that ran along the small dining table in the middle of the room. “I didn’t know when you would wake up so I couldn’t take the chance.”

“What?”

“I wasn’t sure how long the diazepam would take to wear off. You’re only a slip of a thing and, of course, you were drinking a lot; that makes it harder to judge.

“But you’ve been out for a long time.” She looked at her watch. “Almost seven hours.”

“Christ.”

“That’s OK,” Donna said, crossing her legs. She nodded at the rucksack and holdall on the floor.

“It gave me plenty of time to get back and pick up some provisions.”

“This is insane,” Surtsey said. “Let me go.” Donna shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Understand

“It’s for the best,” Donna said. “I don’t expect you to understand, not straight away, but you’ll come to see things my way eventually.”

“What do you plan on doing, keeping me here forever?”

Donna got up and opened the rucksack. She began lifting out food, bags of rice and pasta, tins of sauce and beans, water bottles, chocolate bars and crisps, a carton of orange juice.

“You actually made it much easier,” Donna said. “I think subconscio­usly you knew all along and were trying to help me.”

“You’ve lost your mind.”

“When I came round to your house yesterday I was all set to take you back to my place.”

Donna reached deeper into the rucksack and pulled out salt and pepper, biscuits, a loaf of bread.

“But this is better. You wanted to come to the Inch and now we’re here together. This place means so much to you, doesn’t it?”

“Damn you.”

“Come on,” Donna said. “You brought me here, when you think about it. You were drunk and you wanted to bring me, your best friend, to your favourite place.

“All I’m doing is making sure that happened. The state you were in, you couldn’t have steered the boat any longer so I had to take over.”

“Because you drugged me,” Surtsey said. “The wine.”

“It was just to help you relax. You’ve been through so much recently.”

“But you drank it too.”

Donna shook her head as she arranged food on the table. “Small sips, spat back into the glass when you weren’t looking.

“I don’t like to lose control, remember?” Surtsey tugged at her wrist ties. “Let me go.” Donna smiled and shook her head. “If you just realised this was for your own good, I wouldn’t have to tie you up.”

Surtsey stared at her. “You’re insane. This is insane.”

Donna unzipped the holdall and started taking out clothes, shirts and T-shirts, underwear, jeans. Some of it was Surtsey’s.

“How did you get my stuff?”

Donna dug into her pocket and pulled something out, dangled it in the air. “I have your keys, silly.”

Surtsey’s head was pounding, the base of her neck on fire. “You can’t keep me here.”

Kidnapped

Donna put the keys away and went back to unpacking the clothes. “It’ll be fine once you come round.”

“Come round to what? Being kidnapped and held prisoner?”

Donna went over to the stove and opened it, threw in a couple of logs from a pile. She closed the door, poured some water into a pan from a ten-gallon plastic bottle on the floor then placed it on the stove top.

“A cup of tea will sort us out.”

Surtsey tried to kick her legs, twisting her ankles inwards and out, flexing her muscles against the ropes.

The effort made blood thud in her ears, flashes of white across her vision. She slumped back on the bed and breathed.

“Someone will find me,” she said. “When they realise I’ve gone missing. They’re probably already trying to get in touch.”

Donna got two mugs off a shelf and placed them on the table. Pulled teabags out a box and dropped them in. She looked for a teaspoon in a drawer.

“I don’t think so,” she said over the rattle of cutlery. “Iona and Hal. If I don’t show up, they’ll come looking for me, they’ll track me down.”

More tomorrow.

 ??  ??

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from United Kingdom