Black and white photo of a shirtless man seen from behind in boxer briefs, with a large ornate tattoo on his upper arm and shoulder and a dark tattoo on his forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Back view of tattooed arms in a kitchen

Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A man in dark boxer briefs stands with his back to the camera in a kitchen, photographed in black and white. A large ornate tattoo covers his upper arm and shoulder, and a darker design is visible on his forearm near his wrist. The shot is well lit, with the oven and worktop behind him, so the tattoo detail is clear but fine linework is hard to judge.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The peonies were already out at Ardnish when the boat came in with the new ironwork for the glasshouse, and Mairi Gillies stood on the quay with her hands in her coat pockets and said nothing about the price. Forty years she had kept the walled garden behind the manse, and in forty years nobody had ever asked her what she meant to do with the wall.

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She meant to do nothing, mostly. Let the bindweed have the south side, let the brambles lean over the gate. But the ironwork was Callum Breck's idea, and Callum had a way of getting a thing into a catalogue and then into your yard before you had finished deciding. He unloaded it himself, a whole crate of curling scrollwork meant for rose arches, and he laid it out on the grass in the shape of a fern, the way you would lay out a hand of cards.

"It's for the bloom," he said. "Your grandmother's bloom. The one on the cottage door."

I had forgotten the carving. A chrysanthemum the size of a dinner plate, cut into the lintel by a man who had since drowned off Eriskay. My grandmother used to trace it with a wet thumb when it rained.

We hung the arch that afternoon, Callum on the ladder and me passing him the bolts. When he stepped down, the scrollwork threw a lace of shadow across the flagstones, and for a moment the whole garden looked as if the lintel had been turned inside out and laid flat. I told him it would do. He said it was the best thing he had ever made, and then he went back to the boat without another word about the price, which is how I knew he meant it.

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