The secret of the Black Widow

The Awakening

The Awakening

1950. This was the date – at least it seemed so – that went round and round in my head as I regained consciousness.

When I opened my eyes, I could barely bring the room into focus. There was nothing but confusion.

Where was I? Why was everything swaying? Had I got so drunk last night that I now couldn’t remember what happened?

My brain started to wake up. It wasn’t my mind that was swinging, but the room itself. Everything was still blurred. The creaking sounds were typical of the sheet metals of a ship, being moved by the rhythm of the waves.

I went to rub my eyes, but was shaken by the sound of two taut chains reaching the end of their length. I was bound tightly to the wall, a sullen portrait of misery. My frustration was building. I couldn’t touch my face.

I looked around, searching for clues. The room smelled damp. A man – clearly dead – lay in a pool of blood. Another figure, sitting, was chained not too far from me.

‘It’s impossible,’ I whispered, trying to focus. ‘Professor, what the hell are you doing here? And who is that guy?’

‘We are in deep s**t, kid,’ he answered.

There was a moment of silence.

How could it be that, on the threshold of my forties, I was chained – most likely on a ship – with Mr Pindar, my former secondary school professor?

It didn’t make any sense at all.