“Finished about half an hour ago.”

“So can I have a go?”

“On the whip or her?”

Isaac and the other man laugh. I don’t understand why, and I don’t care. They may as well be a million miles away.

“What are you doing here?” Isaac asks.

“Isis said something about another Pokhara run. You didn’t mention it to me.”

“Didn’t I? Must have forgotten.”

“What about her?”

“Emma? You’re lucky if I let you shag anyone ever again after the shit you pulled with Frank.”

“You promised I’d be next, Isaac.”

“That was before you threw a fist in my face.”

“You said there would be no more deaths.”

“Fuck off, Johan, we’ve already talked about this.”

“Yeah, but—”

“You heard what I said. I’ll let you know when she’s ready, you dirty, fucking Swede. Haven’t you got turnips to fertilise, or something?”

There is a click as the door shuts, and then everything goes black.

The next time I open my eyes, Isaac has gone and it’s pitch black inside the hut, apart from a shallow pool of light at the base of the door. I crawl towards it, retching as I pass the bucket Isaac left there. My lungs fill with the stench of vomit, piss and shit.

When I reach the door I tilt my head to one side and press my lips against the half-inch gap between the bottom of the door and the frame. The air smells sweet and fresh. I gulp at it, filling my lungs, inhaling until they feel fit to burst.

“Help!” The word scratches at the back of my throat. I try to swallow but there’s no saliva in my mouth. “Help! Please help! Somebody help me.”

The gap is too small for me to see more than the tiniest patch of grass, so I press my ear to it instead. All I can hear is the whirl of the wind and the roar of the waterfall.

“Help!” I drag myself onto my feet and pound at the door with my fists. The wood is weather worn and cracked. Splinters drive themselves into my skin but I keep on thumping, smacking and hammering at it. The door shakes but remains on its hinges. I kick at it, steadying myself by pressing my hands to the side of the hut. It holds fast so I turn and kick backwards, like an angry mule.

Nothing.

My legs buckle under the weight of the table as I pick it up and hurl it towards the door. It hits the wood with a thump then bounces back. One of the legs catches me in the stomach and I reel backwards. My heel hits the bucket and I trip. Urine, vomit and faeces swirl around me as I fall to the floor.

Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Present Day