Do you understand? She'll shoot you.'
'Muck you and your little
French whore, Fuck you both.
I bet that's what you two have been doing all evening in that car -
playing 'hide the sausage' down by the riverside.' Anger flashed through
Bruce so violently that it startled him. He twisted Hendry's hair until
he could feel it coming away in his hand. Hendry squirmed with pain.
'Shut that foul mouth - or I'll kill you.'
He meant it, and suddenly Hendry knew he meant it.
'Okay, for Chrissake, okay. just leave me.' Bruce loosened his grip and
straightened up.
'I'm sorry, Charmaine,' he said.
'That's all right - go to the other one.' Bruce went to the bar counter,
and Haig watched him come.
'What do you want, Bruce? Have a drink.' He was nervous. 'Have a
drink, we are all having a little drink. All good clean fun, Bruce.
Don't get excited.'
'You're not having any more; in fact, just the opposite,' Bruce told him
as he came round the counter. Haig backed away in front of him.
'What are you going to do?' I'll show you, said Bruce and caught him by
the wrist, turning him quickly and lifting his arm up between
his shoulder-blades.
'Hey, Bruce. Cut it out, you've made me spill my drink.' 'Good,' said
Bruce and slapped the empty glass out of his hand. Haig started to
struggle. He was still a powerful man but the liquor had weakened him
and Bruce lifted his wrist higher, forcing him on to his toes.
'Come along, buddy boy,' instructed Bruce and marched him towards the
back door of the bar-room. He reached round Haig with his free hand,
turned the key in the lock and opened the door.
'Through here, he said and pushed Mike into the kitchens. He kicked the
door shut behind him and went to the sink, dragging Haig with him.
'All right, Haig, let's have it up,' he said and changed his grip
quickly, thrusting Haig's head down over the sink.
There was a dishtowel hanging beside it which Bruce screwed into a ball;
then he used his thumbs to open Haig's jaws and wedged the towel between
his back teeth.
'Let's have all of it.' He probed his finger down into Haig's throat, it
came up hot and gushing over his hand, and he fought down his own nausea
as he worked. When he had finished he turned on the
cold tap and held Haig's head under it, washing his face and his own
hand.
'Now, I've got a little job for you, Haig.'
'Leave me alone, damn you,' groaned Haig, his voice indistinct beneath
the rushing tap.
Bruce pulled him up and held him against the wall.
'There's a woman in childbirth at the mission. She's going to die, Haig.
She's going to die if you don't do something about it.'
'No,' whispered Haig. 'No, not that. Not that again.'
'I'm taking you there.'
