Shared by the Highlanders (23 page)

He makes a production of getting the straw in, then gives me a blank look.

“Put the end in your mouth and suck.”

He tilts his head, his expressive blue eyes alight with sensual teasing. I flush, suddenly uncertain how things stand between us here.

“Ah, Charlie, you do look so pretty with your cheeks aflame. Maybe we’ll bring a similar blush to your bottom soon enough, eh?”

Right, they stand like that, do they? Fair enough. I take a bite out of my burger and chew, and pretend to ignore him.

Robbie ignores the byplay between myself and Will, preferring to devote his attention to his burger. He has the whopper with bacon and cheese, complete with mayonnaise and slices of tomato oozing from the bun. He lifts the lid, takes an experimental sniff.

“So, wee Charlie, what manner of meat is this then?”

“Bacon.”

He lifts an eyebrow and prods the burger with his forefinger. “I recognise a piece of bacon when I see it. What is this?”

I find myself unable to come up with an answer to that. Privately I don’t believe the relationship between the burger and any manner of meat is all that clear.

“It’s nice. Try it.”

Robbie quirks his lip at me, and takes a bite from the sandwich. He chews, then peers at me from under his brows.

“Wee Charlie, I do believe I’m going to like this century of yours.”

The rest of the journey is uneventful, if you disregard the constant hissing, ducking at the sight of other vehicles coming toward us, and the white-knuckled death-grip Will insists on maintaining on the back of my seat. Robbie is more gung-ho, clearly enjoying the ride. His eyes are darting everywhere, surveying the landscape whizzing past, other vehicles, the buildings. He’s fascinated with all the sights, firing a nonstop barrage of questions at me the whole time. A leather-jacketed biker roars past us on a powerful machine and his excitement is almost palpable. Will just settles for crossing himself.

We reach the outskirts of Manchester and the rural landscape gives way to an ever more dense urban setting. The traffic snarls up, the sounds and bustle of a major city all around us. I know Edinburgh was a busy place even back in the sixteenth century. London too and they have been frequent visitors to both. They can be no strangers to crowds, but I suspect this is different. Everything is more manic, more rapid-fire, impatient even to my more jaundiced view.

We reach Salford where I live and I navigate the familiar streets on autopilot. Just as well because Robbie is once again asking questions—What’s that? How do they…? Does everyone …? I answer as best I can, but even I struggle to explain the rationale underpinning Media City to two guys who have never even seen a television.

By the time I pull up in front of the tower block where I live though I have my plan for addressing our immediate needs pretty well worked out. First things first though.

“Right, this is home. I live on the seventh floor, but don’t worry, the lift works most of the time.”

Robbie scowls at me. “You’re talking in riddles, girl.”

“Sorry. I’ll show you. Come on.”

They follow me to the front entrance where I key in my pass code. “It’s security, to make sure only people who are supposed to be here can get in. I’ll write that number down for you, so you can get in and out.”

Will nods. I think he may approve of this latest example of twenty-first century technology. It was only a matter of time, I suppose.

Once inside I lead the way to the lift and press the call button. Will and Robbie exchange quizzical looks, but their expressions change to something best described as queasy when the doors open to reveal the tiny lift car inside. It is often joked by my neighbours that even coffins come out of this building on end, and I have no notion at all how anyone gets large items of furniture up to the higher floors. I rented my place fully furnished.

I’ve sort of gotten used to the claustrophobic lift in the couple of years I’ve lived here, but I don’t blame my companions for being wary. I step inside and hold the door open as I attempt to reassure them.

“Come on. It holds six people. Look, the sign says so.”

“The sign is demented then. Are there no stairs in this infernal place?” Will crosses his arms and plants his feet firmly on the floor. I know when I’m beat. I step back out into the foyer.

“This way. One of you better carry the rucksack.” I hike off in the direction of the staircase.
Seven floors. Shit!

We reach my landing but instead of unlocking my door, I knock on that of my neighbour. “He has my spare key,” I explain to my new flatmates. “Mine is in my anorak pocket, and I’ve no idea what happened to that. I mislaid it somewhere back in fifteen sixty-six. I was due back yesterday, so I just have to hope he’s in or I’ll have to phone the caretaker. Except, my phone’s suffered a bit due to being half buried for over four hundred years, so fingers crossed. And I’ll get two more keys cut.”

The finger crossing does the trick. The door is opened a crack, then flung wide. “Darling! You’re back. I was getting worried.” My neighbour emerges to hug me, then plants noisy kisses on each cheek.

Henry always was somewhat on the demonstrative side. I’ve sort of got used to his quirky ways, a bit like I’ve learned to live with the minuscule lift. His hair is slicked back close to his scalp and he’s impeccably dressed in neat black trousers, a white shirt, and grey pinstriped waistcoat.

“You’re about to go to work, then?” I manage, when he lets me draw a breath. Henry is head waiter at Giulio’s, a rather smart trattoria a few streets away.

“No, love, just got back. I was on the lunchtime shift today.” He catches sight of my companions and clutches his hands to his chest in rapt admiration. “Ooh, and who do we have here then? You brought me presents, you sweet thing. You really shouldn’t have.”

“They’re mine.”

“Both of them? Don’t be a greedy girl.” Henry eyes Will with an expression I would best describe as voracious.

“Yes. Both of them. And they’re both straight, so don’t even go there. Henry, I lost my key. Do you have my spare, please?”

Henry tuts. “Spoilsport. Such a waste. Right, your key. I have it somewhere.”

“Thank you, you’re a star. Has Poppy been good?”

“As gold, darling. We’ve had such a nice time. You really should let her come and live with me, you know. The poor dear deserves better than to spend her life roughing it in there with you.”

“You can get your own dog. As long as you continue to look after mine as well.”

“Ah, such a hard woman. I suppose I’ll have to deliver the little mite back into your vicious clutches…” He turns to go back into his flat, to return a few seconds later cradling my pride and joy. Poppy lets out an excited yap when she sees me and I take her from Henry’s arms. She licks my nose, wriggling around in my arms like the squirmy, affectionate little creature she is.

“Is that a rat?” Robbie seems less than impressed.

“A toy fox terrier. She’s called Poppy. She’s mine.” That last remark sounds a tad defensive, even to me.

“We’re to share our lodgings with a rat then? Well, I suppose it’ll not be the first time…”

“She’s not a rat. She’s—”

“Did I understand correctly? You are holding the keys to this dwelling?” Robbie interrupts my introduction, turning his attention to Henry.

“Dwelling? Where are you from, darling?” At a warning growl from Robbie, Henry abandons his attempt at flirting. “Ah, yes. I’m Henry. I live here.” My neighbour gestures to his still-open front door, then fishes in his pocket for my door keys, which he holds out to me. “Here you are, love. Plants all watered and I left some milk in your fridge. You did say you’d be here to see to mine next weekend, didn’t you?”

Robbie and Will look at each other and shrug.

I step in. “Yes, of course. And thank you again.”

Robbie leans across me to take the keys. “Yes indeed, we thank you for your assistance, Mr. Henry, in the matters of plants, milk, and this rat here.” He casts a dubious look Poppy’s way, then extends his hand to Henry. I detect a spirit of resigned reconciliation, though I may be wrong. “My name is Robert Duncan McBride, and this is William Lachlan Sinclair. And we also intend to live here now, so…”

Henry’s expression is less than enthusiastic despite his obvious admiration for my two companions, but I attempt to smooth the way with what I hope is a bright, encouraging smile. Henry frowns, but shakes Robbie’s outstretched hand, then Will’s. “Of course, and it’s just Henry. I was just in the middle of… something, so I’ll love you and leave you. I’ll be seeing you later, I expect.”

Robbie’s eyebrows shoot up, but he lets the loving and leaving remark go. “Aye, that’s likely enough. Good day to you then, Henry.” Robbie hands me the keys. “Shall we be getting inside?”

I juggle keys and squirming dog, and manage to unlock my door. “Please, come in. Make yourselves at home.”

I lead the way down my hall and into my living room, a modest space though it’s always seemed plenty big enough for me and Poppy in the past. It feels distinctly crowded now as Will and Robbie plant themselves in the centre of the room and gaze around them.

Will wanders over to the window to look outside. I have a fabulous view across toward the city centre, but its attractions seem to escape him. He leans on the sill and looks down, then recoils back.

“Shit, this is high. It can’t be natural, living up in the heavens this way.”

“It’s not that high, and I like it. So does Poppy. And it’s cheap.” I’m sounding a little defensive again, a fact not lost on either Will or Robbie.

Robbie comes across to stand before me. He cups my face in his hand. “Lass, this is a lovely home you have and we truly appreciate your hospitality. If you’ll just put down that rat and show us where you sleep, we’ll be happy to demonstrate our indebtedness to you.”

“I…oh.” I look up at him, caught up in his azure gaze. “My bed’s rather small. And Poppy’s not a rat. She’s a dog.”

“Aye, so you say. May I take her?” Robbie extricates Poppy from my embrace and sets her gently down on the sofa. “As I recall your tent was a little on the small side too, but we got by. So, your bed…?”

“Sweet Mary, Mother of God and all the saints, what is that!”

At Will’s horrified shriek we both turn to him. He is still peering out of the window, though he is looking at something above the rooftops. The low growl of a jet engine reaches my ears. I rush to the window and lean on the sill, in time to see the distinctive livery of Jet 2 gliding past on its final approach to Ringway airport.

“Ah, yes. An aeroplane. That’s a passenger jet, for travelling long distances. We need to sort out passports for you both. You’ll love air travel.”

“No, I fucking won’t. Are you telling me there are people inside that, that… contraption?”

I nod. “Yes. And it’s very safe. You can get to America in a few hours, and to Australia in about a day, I think.”

“Are you mad? Do you have no ships anymore? If I was meant to fly, the dear Lord would have furnished me with wings.” Will is following the jet’s graceful progress across the sky, his face a mask of pure horror.

“Right, well, it’s up to you. But you might want to travel the world, and that’s the way to do it. We do have ships though as well, if you insist.”

“I’ve already travelled as much of the world as I want to see, and more than most. And kept my feet firmly on God’s green earth in the doing of it.” He turns to me as the plane disappears from view, his arms crossed and his expression adamant. “What’s Australia?”

I open my mouth to respond, but I am forestalled by Robbie’s low chuckle. “Och, don’t worry about him, lassie. He’ll come around. A decent fuck always improves his mood no end. Now, you were about to show us to your sleeping quarters…?”

I tend to agree in the matter of a decent fuck. “Yes. Right. This way.” I tear my gaze from Will’s obstinate visage and scurry back out into the hallway. My bedroom is opposite. I open the door and step aside to allow them to pass me. Robbie is having none of that and picks me up. He strides into the room and tosses me onto my bed. At least it’s a double.

“Get naked, girl. And be quick about it.”

I’m not exactly averse to this suggestion, but I had expected to be discussing our longer term plans first.

“Er, don’t we need to talk?”

Will has followed us into the room. He and Robbie look at each other, then back to me. Both shake their heads. Robbie offers me a soft smile.

“No, I don’t think that will be necessary right now. Please continue.”

“But…”

Will appears to have got over his shock at the prospect of flight and is less patient. He draws his trusty knife again. “Here’s the way of it. You do seem uncommonly fond of those clothes of yours, and since we intend to tie you up, unless you remove them yourself I’ll be obliged to slice them from you once we have you secured to our liking. Your choice, naturally, but you should know you have just half a minute to ready yourself.”

I gape at him, then my attention is drawn to Robbie who has started opening and shutting drawers. He smiles at me over his shoulder.

“You’re wasting time, little one. While you’re undressing, assuming you do opt to be cooperative in this matter, maybe you could direct me to any items you may possess that would serve us well for binding your wrists and perhaps your ankles. I’m wondering if we might find use for a gag too…?”

“No,” says Will firmly. “I like to hear those sweet little sounds she makes when we spank her. And when she has her release.”

Robbie shrugs. “Fair enough. Just the wrists and ankles then. Charlie?”

“I, yes. Yes, you’ll find what you need in that drawer on the left. My tights.”

Robbie locates the correct drawer and opens it. He pulls out a tangled mass of hosiery, in a range of colours. He eyes the unruly mass in his hand with curiosity. “I have not the first notion what the intended purpose of these items might be, but they will serve our needs today well enough. Thank you, Charlie. Are we to assume you do find your present attire to be dispensable then?”

“What?”

Robbie gestures with his chin toward Will’s knife. It’s sufficient incentive to send me skidding into action. I unzip my fleece and discard that quickly, followed by my vest. I kick off my walking boots next and peel the grimy trousers down my legs. This leaves me naked since my underwear is a thing of the past, so to speak. I kneel on the bed, acutely conscious of Will and Robbie’s scrutiny. They both remain fully dressed.