He was never that lucky.
He shot a sideways glance to Shona.
Well, almost never.
“Right, then,” he said, adjusting his grip on the scalpel. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Whether by accident or design, Oberon Finley-Wallace was blocking the door. This was not something Sinead would necessarily have noted a few months back. She’d have noticed, yes, but she wouldn’t have particularly cared. It wouldn’t have bothered her. It wouldn’t have made her feel uneasy. Not like it did now.
He was quite a large man. Imposing, in his own way.
When she’d last seen him, he’d been heading out the door, his shirt crisp and immaculate, his trousers pressed with matching creases down the front.
He still wore the same clothes, but now they were rumpled and creased, his tie hanging slackly, his top button undone. One side of his shirt had come completely untucked at the front, and he’d made no attempt to tuck it back in.
The MSP was swaying slightly, though Sinead couldn’t tell if he was drunk, exhausted, or some combination of the two. His hand movements were quick. Anxious. Fidgety.
He was smiling, and yet he was very much not. Sinead didn’t know the man beyond the few minutes spent in his company that morning, but she’d put money on the fact that he was one wrong word away from bursting into tears.
“Are you alright, Mr Finley-Lennox?” she asked.
He shook his head and sniffed, then took a step closer. She took a step back, subconsciously maintaining the distance between them.
“Not really. It’s been a bit of a day,” Oberon replied. He was fighting to keep the emotion from his voice, resulting in the words coming out as a low, flat monotone. “Shocker of a day, really. And… I’m not even supposed to be here, I’m supposed to be in Edinburgh. But, well, I had to come back, and then I saw the lights were on, and…” He looked past her to the empty room beyond. “Are you sure there’s nobody else here?”
“Well, there’s the dog,” Sinead said, really hoping that Taggart remained out of sight so that the MSP’s imagination could come up with an animal far larger and more aggressive. “And, as I say, my colleagues will be back any minute. So, if you’d prefer to wait…”
“No!” Oberon cried, and the suddenness of it made Sinead jump back. “Sorry, sorry. I just… I need to get this off my chest. It’s… I just… I need to tell you what I’ve done.”
“OK.” Sinead indicated a hard plastic chair tucked in beside the room’s only desk. “Would you like to take a seat?”
Oberon shook his head and bounced from foot to foot. “No. No, can’t sit down. Don’t want to sit down. Just need to… I just need to get it out. I need to say it. Now.”
He was on edge. Tense. His fingers, which had been dancing and fidgeting, now curled into fists in time with his breathing, like he was in the early stages of giving birth. In, out. In, out.
“Go ahead,” Sinead urged. “I’m listening.”
The MSP’s head bobbed rapidly up and down in a series of fast tiny nods that continued for several seconds. “OK. OK. Yes, yes, right. Yes, I just… I just need to say it.”
He inhaled deeply and suddenly, as if he was about to start shouting. When he did speak, though, it was in that same flat monotone as before.
“I… You see… I’ve done something. That I shouldn’t. Have done.” He repeated himself, but this time without the pauses, “I’ve done something that I shouldn’t have done.”
He was still in front of the door, still blocking the way out. A rivulet of sweat trickled the length of Sinead’s spine. Her head felt light, her limbs heavy, just like they’d been in that farmhouse.
Just like they’d been on that bed with that bastard hanging over her, his hands working at the clasp of her belt.
“What have you done?” she asked, her lungs barely providing enough breath to form the words.
“It was silly. I… It was a silly mistake,” Oberon said.
He stepped closer again, and when Sinead retreated she bumped against the corner of the desk and a knot of pain throbbed at the impact point on her thigh.
“Could you… Could you stay there?” she asked. It should’ve been an order, but it came out as a request. As a plea, almost.
“What?” Oberon looked down at his own feet. “Why?”
“Just… I’d feel more comfortable if you just stayed where you are,” Sinead explained.