“That's just the question, isn't it?” Oak replied to my question,
“If....when the girl wakes up, we really don't know who, or what,
will wake up with her.” He looked at the clothesline still in a
tangled heap by his feet. “Perhaps it would be wise to restrain
her now,” he said, “While it is still us who are in control.”
Before I could reply he's gathered the line in his hands and begun to
wrap it round Fiona's left wrist, fastening it tight to the arm of
her chair.
“You can't be serious,” I challenged him, “For heaven's sake,
she's only a girl.”
“She is, yes,” he said, moving to Fiona's right side to fasten
her other arm, “But she may not come back alone, or something may
come in her place. Better to be cautious now than regretful later.”
I understood the sense in what he was saying, but somehow it just
didn't seem right.
“What do you think, Mary?” I asked my wife, “Does this seem
sensible to you?” That's when I realised my wife had gone.
