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I stuck the bit on top of Brian’s cranium, applied pressure, and began turning the brace. He was still screaming.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? NO! OH MY f*****g GOD NO!!!”
For a moment I felt a scintilla of pity for Brian and thought about letting him go. But then I remembered I hated him, and that he had been f*****g my wife, and I pressed on with renewed vigour.
Brian had lank brown hair that soon got tangled up in the bit. Then a large portion of his hair and scalp seemed to cling to the bit and rotate with it. At first I was puzzled by this development, but soon I realised that Brian was wearing a wig. This was something I hadn’t expected. I wondered how come I’d never noticed it before, and whether Sandra had known about it. But in some ways I wasn’t surprised by my discovery. It was i
