Burning Bright

Chapter 21

He was virtually staggering down the corridor, holding his side, barefoot and wearing a pair of ripped shorts and a vest top that definitely weren’t his. ‘I’m OK. Nothing broken. I don’t think.’

I turned to face the officer on the reception desk and saw him flinch. ‘He’s been here less than twenty four hours and this has happened to him?’

‘I’m sorry miss. It happened in the main cell block.’

‘You knew about it and didn’t inform anyone?’

‘The prisoner said he didn’t want it reported.’ I glanced over to Eoin who lifted his head slightly and dropped it in an acknowledging nod. At least they didn’t seem to have damaged his face and I could see no obvious head injuries. Eoin looked like he was about to collapse, so the officer took him into the room I’d just vacated and settled him on a chair.

I spoke calmly and clearly to the officer behind the desk, although inside my rage was rising. ‘I don’t care what he said he wanted. You are duty bound to report any injuries to the relevant Embassy officials. Now, where are his clothes and his belongings?’

‘Erm, he doesn’t have any?’ he asked hopefully.

‘He did not arrive here in those clothes yesterday. And he had a bag.’ No response apart from the officer’s Adam’s apple bobbing up and down nervously. ‘I shall be writing a formal complaint to the Governor. Again. This is outrageous treatment of a foreign national. If you find his things, please let the High Commission know. It’s a good job he’s not staying any longer.’

I walked into the room where Eoin was leaning on the table, head on bruised arms. Fighting back the tears of both concern and anger, I laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Eoin, Eoin.’

He lifted his head towards me. ‘It’s good to see you. Thanks for coming,’ and managed the smallest of smiles although his eyes looked haunted with fear.

‘I’ve come to take you home. You’re being released. We raised the money.’

‘You did?’ He looked at me almost not believing me.

‘Well, half of it. Enough to get you out of here. The magistrate’s signed your release order. We can go.’

‘Now?’

‘Now.’

‘Oh thank God.’

The officer helped him up from his seat and we walked through reception. I glared at the man behind the desk who was now sweating profusely.

‘Book,’ I indicated, asking for the possessions log. He handed it over and I found Eoin’s name and the list of items he’d arrived with. “NO ITEMS RETURNED, PRISONER HAS SIGNIFICANT INJURIES” I wrote in capitals, and underlined it a couple of times for dramatic effect. I knew it wouldn’t make any difference, but it made me feel slightly better that it was recorded somewhere. ‘Let’s go,’ I said to Eoin, and we made our way through the sequence of locked doors and into the piercing sunshine where we paused, Eoin swaying on his feet, although held up by the.

When Pierre saw us, he started to run over, taking over the support of Eoin from the officer. Eoin even managed to shake the officer’s hand before wrapping his arm around me as we headed to his car. I sat Eoin in the back and then crouched down next to him and gave him a bottle of water.

‘What happened?’ I asked.

He swigged some water and then shrugged. ‘You know. Wrong place, wrong time . . . but this time, no drink.’ I must have looked confused. ‘Don’t worry, it’s a line from Merlin. Sort of.’