I slipped Rebecca s birthday cards back into the cigar box, stuck everything else on the little table bolted to the bulkhead, and clambered off the bunk. Rolled Dr McDonald onto her side, pulled out the duvet, then rolled her back again so she was covered up. Might be an idea to put her in the recovery position so she didn t choke on her own vomit. Assuming she had any chunks left to choke on.
After that, I got the cabin s bin out from under the tea-and-coffee bit and placed it next to her head. Then stood and looked down at her, lying there with her mouth open a crack, dribble slowly glistening its way down her cheek.
Just like Katie after her first proper party. First week in secondary school and there she was: white sweatshirt stained the colour of clay, flecked with little chunks of sausage roll, reeking of sick and sticky cider-and-blackcurrant. Eleven years old, and she didn t want to be daddy s little girl any more.
Ah, the good old days.
I tucked the duvet under Dr McDonald s chin. Sleep tight, you complete and utter rambling lunatic
Something rumbled under the covers, followed by a waft of mouldering cauliflower.
Oh, Jesus! Ack It was followed by three aftershocks, sounding like someone was kicking a duck down a length of metal pipe. And the smell! I opened the toilet door and flicked on the light, setting the extractor fan going.
There were lopsided letters scrawled across the mirror above the sink in plum-coloured lipstick: WHOSE HE REELY TORCHERING?
She d come top of her class? What the hell were the rest of them like?
Wednesday 16th November
There you are, I ve been looking all over for you, you want breakfast, I want breakfast, I mean I m ravenous this morning, no idea why: had a huge dinner, actually are you OK, because you look a bit rough
I twisted my head to the side. Pops and cracks rippled down my spine; someone jabbed a rusty compass right between my shoulder blades.
The forward bar was full of bleary-eyed people and the smell of stale breath and stale beer. The metal grille was still down, locking away the row of taps and glinting optics, but the place was alive with stretching and yawning. A collection of booths and horseshoe-shaped sofa-style benches surrounded little round tables heaped with personal possessions. Like a refugee camp the morning after a booze-up.
Dr McDonald fiddled with her glasses. Thanks for not you know, thanks for letting me have the cabin, I know it probably seems silly, but I really get uncomfortable if
I didn t. I swung my feet onto the blue-and-green carpet and sat there, blinking, rubbing the grit out of my eyes. A cough ripped through me, making my ribs ache. You snore.
She pulled her head back, giving herself a double chin. I do not snore, it s
Thought the farting was bad, but Jesus you re like someone hacking up a metal dustbin with a chainsaw. One. Two. Three I pulled myself upright, then slowly straightened. Twinges, aches, and pains.
You were there? In the room while I was sleeping? Her eyes widened, then pink rushed up her cheeks. She wrapped both arms around herself. I was naked, I woke up and I was naked, and I d been drinking, and I was naked in bed when I woke up! What did did you it wasn t oh no, no, no, tell me we didn t actually
Like rabbits. All night. Couldn t keep your hands off me. Why wouldn t my shoes fit properly? Like trying to squeeze a Labrador into a letterbox.
Oh God The pink got a shade darker.
I didn t it was a mistake and I really don t think
And then she slapped me. Not hard enough to do any real damage, but it still stung like a bastard.
How could you? How could you take advantage of me like that, I was drunk, what kind of a man are you, you re old enough to be my father, you slimy, lowlife, exploitative
Don t be stupid; nothing happened. You spent half the night throwing up, and the rest of it snoring from both ends.
Ah. She bit her top lip, looked away. I see, you were being humorous, joking that I was promiscuous and predatory, when in fact I was revolting and disgusting
Believe it or not: you re not irresistible, and not all men are potential rapists. I rubbed a hand across my throbbing cheek. And if you hit me again, I m hitting you back.
A pale blue glow edged the horizon, the sky a deep indigo twinkling with stars. Most of Lerwick lay in darkness, just the sulphur ribbons of streetlights and the occasional car s headlights breaking the gloom, but the Holmsgarth ferry terminal was lit up like a football stadium.
My badly behaved wheelie case jinked and skittered as I limped down the covered walkway after Dr McDonald. Her breath streamed out behind her in the fluorescent lighting.
Cold leached through the soles of my shoes, making my feet ache.
Shetland in November I had to be mad.
The ferry terminal looked like a massive corrugated-iron pig sty, its grey curved roof trimmed in red.
