Secret Skin Read Online Free PDF Page B

the hangover, I wouldn’t let go, and if he climbed any further he’d feel my boot in his face.
    Then I heard voices below.
    Over the captain’s head I saw the two Filipino crewmen, Joe right behind them. They called up to him. The captain bellowed back. The men grabbed one of his legs and pulled but the captain simply wound one arm between the ladder’s rungs and kept his other hand on the hook, content to stay where he was.
    A dizzying sense of unreality struck me as I stood up and looked down on the four men, the Irishman I barely knew yelling at a stranger hell bent on killing me. I searched the captain’s hard face for a way in. A human connection. He glared back. I simply didn’t register, just another obstacle between him and his fixation. The ladder would give way before he would.
    ‘Bryson,’ Joe shouted, my head snapped up. ‘Do something.’
    I tried kicking the captain’s hand off the hook, but he refused to let go.
    He needed more encouragement. Groping blindly my hand closed around a familiar shape in my bag. I pushed the pen’s nib out and began to jab at his fingers with the tip.
    His venomous shouts didn’t need translation; the small sharp pains had registered. He pulled at the hook again, working to free it for another swing.
    ‘Get on with it,’ Joe said.
    I hesitated. Get on with what?
    Without thinking I stabbed down into the fleshy part between his fingers, and pushed. Metal grazed bone.
    ‘Jesus!’ I said and let go. Like a sixth ballpoint finger the pen stuck fast in his hand. ‘Jesus, that’s just fucking horrible.’
    With a look like I’d betrayed him the captain stretched his hand out to show me what I had done. A sharp timely tug from below and he lost his grip on the ladder. His staring eyes held mine as he screamed to the deck and the three men waiting to overpower him.
    So much for the journalist as impartial observer.
    I levered the hook out of the metal and stood panting in the sun wondering how my lazy morning in bed had turned into this.
    ‘You alright?’ Joe shouted.
    ‘Yer,’ I said. ‘Is he?’
    He nodded. The two Filipinos sat on the captain, talking him down with calm words. They were still a crew.
    ‘You make good bait David. Well done.’
    ‘Bait?’ I said. ‘You proselytizing shitweasel, when I’m done having a heart attack—’
    Friday the 13th interrupted again.
    An unknown caller, but from my lofty position I now had three pips of signal strength.
    ‘Yasmin?’ I answered.
    ‘How did you know?’
    ‘Wild guess,’ I said.
    ‘Why are you breathing so hard?’
    ‘Someone was just trying to gut me with a fish hook.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Trying to kill me, someone was trying to kill me Yasmin.’
    ‘Oh. Why?’
    ‘He thought I was trying to steal his boyfriend,’ I said, catching my breath. ‘Forget about that. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you. I thought you didn’t want to work with me?’
    ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
    ‘Look it’s okay, I’m disappointed but I understand. I would never force you to do anything you don’t want to do.’
    ‘But I do want to David.’
    ‘Oh?’
    ‘I am just scared. Scared of what might happen to me if anyone found out.’
    I let out a long exaggerated sigh, buying some time. If I said the right things I still had a story.
    ‘Okay, so how about that trial run? I’ll pay you for your time, we talk and if you want to tell me things you can, if not, no problem. Worst case scenario: you walk away and take the night off. You get paid either way.’
    The line went quiet.
    ‘Yasmin? Are you still there?’
    ‘Yes,’ a pause, ‘and yes, let’s meet. If I don’t like your questions I will leave.’
    ‘I can’t ask for anything more. Thank you Yasmin. So how do we do this?’
    ‘I will send you a number, ask for me, say a time, a place and for how long and I will meet you there, okay?’
    ‘Sure, I’m looking forward to seeing you again.’
    She chuckled. ‘Good,’ she said.
    We both hung