She added another layer of mascara and lined her lips with red lipstick, swigged another mouthful of neat vodka, and waited for her chance. The problem was, if she made a sound, her father would beat her or send her to the metal cabinet. Then, she heard her Prince Charming. ‘You fucked up again, Les,’ came the sarcastic laugh from below. There was a long pause, as she strained to hear.
‘No matter, Les, I suspect you are holding an ace up your sleeve or calling my bluff. How’s Lucy, and where is she this evening?’
Her heart skipped a beat. She wanted to yell down the stairs, ‘I’m here! Come and get me, take me away. I will do anything, but just get me out of this fucking house away from my monster of a father.’ But she said nothing and waited whilst imagining her father sitting there counting the ten-pound notes that Carl was carefully slapping in front of him, all to have a piece of her. She took another swig from her bottle of Smirnoff.
‘She’s upstairs,’ her father uttered, defeated.
Lucy remembered the grin on Carl’s face, as he stood there in the doorway to her bedroom. The butterflies were back, along with the fast beating of her heart, and she was ready for him. Looking back at that time, she shivered. Her father had sold her again.
Before Lucy’s mind returned to the present, a chilling thought entered her head. Where was her diary? She couldn’t leave that lying about for Justin or anyone else to find. It contained her innermost personal thoughts and feelings. Years ago, Dr Spinks had suggested that she made a diary to help her control her somewhat aggressive tendencies and fanciful recollections. It had been the only good advice she felt he’d ever given her. She knew her head was still in a mess. But she truly believed that until her present plans came to fruition, she would not become the person she had always wanted to be … she needed to be … for her own sanity.
Lucy’s thoughts returned to the present. Leaving the bathroom, she hurried to the bedroom, where she quickly got herself dressed in a soft woollen dress. She liked to feel wrapped in cotton wool, but the long black dress would have to suffice. She would allow Justin his space and work on him slowly but surely. She had come this far now; she wasn’t going to give up on such a good catch so easily – not without a damn good fight, anyway.
Chapter 5
The exercise yard was a bleak place with the high barbed wire walls and the officers keeping a keen eye. Groups of women stood smoking and talking. Kara was alone and had no idea where she would fit in. A few necks craned her way, and she could feel the tension as the other women whispered and laughed. Her blood was rampaging through her veins like spears of ice, and she could feel her heart beating wildly.
Then, she saw Vic and didn’t know whether to go over or keep away. She was surrounded by a crowd of hard-looking women, with tattoos, meaty arms and scars, cold smirks, and toothless smiles. There was no one like herself. The black inmates huddled together, a few Chinese formed their own group, and then there was Big Vic. She was like a showpiece, with a following all looking up to her.
Kara was completely out of her depth. She looked who she was: a well-off person who would have been at home perhaps in one of the enclosures at Epsom Racecourse, but here, standing on Larkview Prison’s exercise yard, she was ill at ease. What was even worse was the rest of the inmates knew it. But try as she might to find someone like herself, she couldn’t.
But, then, who was she? All she’d ever been was Justin’s girlfriend. She didn’t have friends, too busy with her head stuck in a book. Now, she was still a nobody, but she was a nobody who was caught in a car’s headlights, ready to become roadkill. Vic looked her way, and for a second, Kara was gripped with fear. Had the cream worked? God help her, if it hadn’t. Vic flicked her head for Kara to join her. Reluctantly, she ambled over and smiled nervously, searching her face for any small indication that she was about to get her head kicked in.
‘This is Posh. She’s a doctor, a friend of mine.’
As if all her fears collapsed at once, Kara could breathe. She acknowledged the others, with a shy nod.
The short heavyset skinhead, with massive jowls, laughed. ‘Ya mate? Yeah, Vic, she don’t look like your kinda pal.’
A deliberate glare from Vic to the skinhead changed the atmosphere immediately and everyone stood around feeling tense. ‘Listen, if I say she’s me mate, then she’s me fucking mate. Now, if ya wanna argue the point, Teri, me and you are gonna fall out big-time.’
Teri, the skinhead, stepped back, realising she’d engaged her mouth instead of her brain. ‘Ahh, nah, nah, Vic, I was just saying she looks, well, ya know, soppy, like.’
With a deep, raspy laugh, Vic heavily patted Teri’s shoulder. ‘Posh, ’ere, is far from soppy. She will burn ya in ya fucking bed, if ya even look at her the wrong way, and if she don’t, Teri, I fucking will. Got it?’
Teri’s eyes widened, as she peered over at Kara. But Kara knew what Vic was doing. She was protecting her, by giving her a reputation that she didn’t really deserve. She’d never had a fight in her life.
‘Er, sorry, Posh, I mean, not that you look soppy, ya just look kinda cute, if ya know what I mean.’
Another wrong move. Vic’s hand gripped Teri’s shoulder, pushing her down. ‘And she ain’t into women either, so touch her, or even wink her way, and I will seriously fuck you up.’ She eyed the others in the group: it was a warning to everyone.
Vic walked away with her arm around Kara. ‘It worked, kiddo. That silly ol’ cunt of a doctor put his glasses on and had a closer look, and then he gave me the cream, just like you said.’ The older woman looked at the downtrodden expression on Kara’s face and sighed. ‘I know, love, it’s hard, trust me. I’ve spent most of me life inside. Ya don’t belong ’ere, and that’s a fact.’
She stopped talking and turned to face Kara. ‘I must be going soft in me old age, but ya did me a favour. I owe you one, not that I ever owe any fucker anything, like, but you, I do. Any nonsense from the bitches in ’ere, you tell me, all right?’
Kara was nodding like her head would fall off. ‘Thank you, Vic, you’re right. I’m so out of my comfort zone, I’m scared to death, to be honest. Those women look as though they could eat me for breakfast.’ She looked back at the coven of inmates whispering in their little circle.
Vic laughed out loud. ‘That lot are a bunch of fucking pussies, but ganged together – ’cos they can’t fight one-on-one – they are nasty. You stick with me and you’ll be all right … Aw, before I forget, ol’ Deni is sick. She ain’t left her cell. In agony, she is, the poor cow. The doc reckons she’s got a migraine, but I’ve never seen her cry in pain before, so take a look for us, will ya?’
‘Deni?’
‘Yeah, everyone calls her Deni. Her real name is Denise Rose Denton – famous, her crime, ya know.’
Kara swallowed hard. She wasn’t a GP and had only received three years’ training in medicine before she became an epidemiologist, but how could she say no? ‘Yes, of course, I’ll take a look.’ Her upbeat tone, she thought, should instil confidence, if not in herself, at least in Vic. She closely followed her new best friend, hoping that she wouldn’t get stopped by one of the officers because she had absolutely no idea of the rules. She was still in shock and struggling to take it all in, although she needed to learn fast.
However, Vic seemed to know the ropes. She wondered what she was inside for. It must have been pretty bad, if she’d spent most of her life locked up. Her thoughts returned to her own predicament and what her life had mapped out for her. She wouldn’t hold her breath, that was for sure.
Just as they were about to enter B Wing, an officer, Vic’s personal officer, came up behind her. She was a tall long-legged woman, with a red short-back-and-sides style, thin features, and eyes that turned down at the corners. ‘Meadows! A woman called Julie Meadows has arrived from court this morning on remand. She says she’s your sister. I’ll put her in with you, yeah?’
Kara stepped back. This was none of her business. The officer looked her up and down. ‘What are you doing here? This ain’t your wing, is it?’
Kara put her head down, not knowing what to say or do. The tall woman looked spiteful and ready to lay down the law.
‘Look, Gov, she’s on B Wing to see Deni, her aunt. All right with it, are ya?’ dared Vic, giving the officer a hard stare.
‘Her aunt? Oh, yes, and me mother’s a monkey’s uncle,’ snorted the officer.
With a quick laugh, Vic replied, ‘Well, with a face like yours, it don’t surprise me, and no, Julie ain’t sharing with me. For Christ’s sake, what has she gone and done now?’
The officer shrugged her shoulders. ‘Not sure, GBH, ABH, maybe. Well, anyway, I’ll tell her she’s on her own, on C Wing. Right, you take this inmate over to see Denton. Her aunt, my arse. Don’t like your sister, I take it?’
Vic slowly looked the officer up and down. ‘Barbara, listen to me. I like to be on me own in me own cell. It don’t mean, I don’t like me sister, so don’t go spreading dirt, all right?’
Barbara gave Vic a sneering look and stomped away.
‘Fucking no-good shit-stirring screw – I hate her. She’s the only screw we have to call by her first name. She hates her last name, it’s Pratt, but she is a prat an’ all. Ya wanna stay away from her. She loves a good ruck and stirs the shit spoon just to get the girls wound up. I swear to God, if I came across her in the street, I would cut her fucking pointed hooter clean off.’
For the first time, Kara found herself laughing, which spurred Vic on to make her laugh even more. ‘She walks around like she’s got a carrot shoved up her arse and talks like she’s chewing a fucking lemon.’
The interaction between Barbara and Vic intrigued Kara. She assumed that she would get into serious trouble if she so much as answered any of the officers back. ‘I can’t believe you got away with saying that stuff to an officer.’
‘Ahh, see, this is where you have a lot to learn. Firstly, I keep some kind of order on this wing, and they know it. Barb is one ’orrible screw, and even her own kind don’t like her. I won’t take any shit because they fucking know that throwing me in solitary does fuck-all other than leave the girls on the wing restless. The truth is, kiddo, I came from a big family, piss-poor, had me baby took from me, got beat near to death by me ol’ man, learned to fight to stay alive, and then I ended up in ’ere on an attempted murder charge. So, what do I have to lose? There ain’t much the prison can throw at me that I can’t handle.’
She sucked her back teeth and then winked. ‘But I ain’t no bully, and see, the likes of you, I know, don’t belong ’ere, so I’ll watch out for ya.’
The change in Vic when she was away from the others was remarkable. She had a softer side and a sense of humour, and she was obviously a good judge of character too.
Kara felt at ease. ‘Vic, I’m grateful you know, well, just to have some support. It must be nice having a sister. I was an only child, you see.’
‘A sister? More like bleedin’ three sisters and two brothers. Me mum was Catholic. Either that or she liked a good bunk-up. Yeah, Julie is a feisty bitch. She’s a few years younger than me. Got a baby. But she’s a bit handy with her fists and has a mouth on her. She reminds me a bit of meself, a few years back. I just wish she would keep a lid on her temper. I don’t want her in here on the same charges as well.’
They continued past the heavy painted doors and up the metal staircase to another row of cells. It was much like her own wing – dull, grey, and depressing. They stopped outside a cell six along from the staircase. Kara expected Vic to knock or something, but instead, she barged straight in. The room was the same size as hers, and yet there were pictures on the walls, a few books neatly lined up along the shelf, and a few knick-knacks – family photos, a pottery cat, and some lipsticks. The clothes were neatly folded on the opposite bed, and the sink and toilet looked immaculate, very different from Colette’s cell. It even smelled better.
Kara’s eyes settled on the older lady who was lying flat on her back with her hands over her face. She was roughly sixty years old, plump around the middle, and her ankles were swollen. Her toenails were yellow and in need of a serious pedicure.
Vic sat on the edge of the bed and slowly the older woman removed her hands. ‘Gawd, girl, how long you been sitting there? I was just dozing off. This bleeding headache, and my eyes, they’re killing me, Vic.’
As Vic looked up at Kara, her hard features softened, as if she was tending to a sick mother. ‘Can ya have a look, Posh?’
Deni tried to sit herself up but wobbled and needed aid from Vic. ‘Oh, my living. Is this what it’s like to get fucking old? Ain’t nuffin graceful about that, eh?’ She blinked, and her eyes streamed. That was when Kara noticed the tiny blisters. As she peered down to get a closer look, Vic got out of the way.
‘Posh wants to have a look.’
Finally, sitting up straight, Deni looked worn out. Her wiry grey hair was flat at the back from lying down. ‘I ain’t mutton, Vic, I can ’ear ya.’
As Kara sat down gently on the bed, she moved Deni’s hair away from her left eye and then she searched her head, like a monkey defleaing her baby.
‘’Ere, what ya doing?’
‘Is it your left eye that hurts and is the pain stabbing, shooting, or burning, by any chance?’
‘It’s like red-hot needles digging in me. I swear to God, I think I’m dying. I can’t sleep, I can’t open me eyes. It’s something bad, I just know it is. I ain’t never felt anything like it.’
Vic was wide-eyed and looking at Kara for an answer. ‘Is it serious, Posh?’
‘Well, it is in as much that if she doesn’t get treatment soon, she could damage the eye. I think I know what it is, though. It’s unusual to get it on the face, but it does happen. It’s shingles.’ She moved Deni’s hair away from her temple. ‘Look, see those blisters? That’s the herpes blisters and the pain is herpetic neuralgia. It’s extremely painful and is certainly not a migraine.’
‘That fucking quack needs shooting. Right, I’ll call the senior officer and get Deni back over to the hospital wing. A fucking migraine, my arse,’ spat Vic.
A gentle smile crossed Deni’s lips. ‘I knew it weren’t no bleeding headache. Thanks, my gal. Now, what shall I tell the doc?’
‘Tell him that you have shingles of the face and you want suitable treatment, including the cream to put on right away. You may need to see an eye specialist to ensure you don’t lose the sight in that eye.’
Gripping Deni by the arm, Vic helped her off the bed. ‘Come on, Deni, let’s get you to the senior officer and get ya sorted, eh?’
As hard as Vic was underneath, Kara knew her new friend had a heart of gold.
Deni held on to Vic, whispering, ‘What would I do without ya, Vic, aye?’
‘Get yaself in fucking trouble, Deni.’
There and then, the damp depressing mood lifted. Kara knew there was hope. In among the hard, the tough, and the frightened, there was a sense of morals. There was a pecking order for those who wanted to fight for the top spot; some were natural leaders and others just liked to be the followers, the hangers-on. She was now gaining friends or allies, but, either way, she wasn’t alone or so terrified.
Kara returned to the exercise yard, and instead of lingering stares, she received a few nods, and surprisingly, some inmates even smiled her way. Teri, however, sneered but didn’t do much else. Kara, with her new-found confidence, glared back, which was enough to force Teri into lowering her gaze. Perhaps she had believed Vic when she said she would burn her in her bed.
Inside, Kara was laughing to herself. Exercise was over, and they returned to their wings, some to their allotted jobs. Kara, of course, was on remand and didn’t have a job right away. Just as she followed the last of the inmates back inside, Barbara, the tall officer, pulled her back. ‘Bannon, I have moved you to another cell.’
‘Oh, why is that?’ Her voice aired confidence.
Barbara looked her over. ‘We have turned over yours and found illegal substances, and I’m assuming they ain’t yours. Connor is down the block and you are in with Julie Meadows.’
‘The block?’ asked Kara with her head tilted to the side.
‘Solitary confinement, for now. We don’t like drugs in this prison. Oh, just so you know, she said they were yours. She tried to rat you out, she did.’
Taking a deep breath, Kara responded, ‘So how do you know they aren’t mine?’
‘Because you’ve only been here two days and you haven’t had a visit. You were also searched on arrival. We ain’t stupid, love!’
‘And Cole would have known that, so why would she even attempt to blame me? It makes no sense.’ Kara had sussed her out. Colette may be mouthy and hard-faced, but she wasn’t a grass. Vic was right: her personal officer was a real shit-stirrer.
Barbara shuffled uneasily. She wasn’t used to listening to a smarty-pants or being spoken to in such a manner. Normally, the prisoners were bolshie, brash, and foul-mouthed, but they didn’t have the intelligence to tie someone like her up in knots and make her look thick.
‘I dunno, but get a move on. Your transit box is in ya new cell and so is Julie Meadows,’ she jeered.
Her tone was ugly, like her face, and Kara sensed that the officer was trying to have the last laugh. Kara wondered who Julie Meadows was, apart from being Vic’s sister. Her heart sank, and she just hoped that Julie wasn’t about to throw her weight around as well. Begrudgingly, she followed Barbara along the corridor and past her previous cell, which was now completely bare, and on to the last cell on the left.
‘This is it, Bannon, your new home.’ She chuckled.
Gritting her teeth, Kara entered. She was mortified when she saw the woman sitting on the bed with a face like thunder. There was Julie. If it wasn’t for the fact that the young woman’s jaw was clenched so tightly and those eyes, which were narrowed to a furrowed frown, the girl would be very pretty. She was slim enough and had an attractive figure. But Kara could tell that despite being in her thirties, Julie had already lived a harder life than most women her age.
She still had that same ugly tone as she had the day Kara met her on the estate when she’d screamed, ‘What are you fucking gawping at? Ya fucking snob!’ Kara had been scared of the woman then, and now, the mouthy madam was going to be sharing a cell with her.
‘Oi, I said I want to bunk in wiv me sister!’ she hollered at the officer, totally dismissing Kara.
‘Tough, Meadows. Ya sister don’t want ya, don’t like ya, so you’re on ya own. Get on with it.’
Before Julie had a chance to say another word, Barbara shot off.
‘What are you fucking looking at?’ spat Julie, in a temper.
Kara stared for a few more seconds. It was obvious that Julie didn’t recognise her, but then she was in prison issues, wearing a bruised nose and a fat lip.
It was a case of putting on a very brave front, so Kara replied, ‘Don’t take it out on me. And for the record, your sister, Vic, never said she didn’t like you at all. I was there. That screw is a shit-stirrer.’ She was even getting used to the lingo.
‘Know her, do ya?’
Kara nodded. ‘Yes, she’s a decent woman, your sister.’
‘Yeah, well, not decent enough to have me bunk in wiv her.’ Her pitch softened.
‘Look, I’m not so bad, honestly. I’ll keep myself to myself.’
‘So what ya in for?’
This was it. As soon as Kara told her, she would know who she was. But there was no point in lying. The word would go around soon enough. ‘I burned my house down and almost killed the neighbour.’ She was plagued with guilt every time those words left her mouth.
Julie put her hand to her mouth and cocked her head to the side. ‘Fuck me, I know you. You live up the road from me. I’ve seen ya walking about, on the bus, and …’
Kara overfilled her lungs with air. ‘Yes, you did.’
A sudden laugh almost made Kara jump. ‘Well, ya fell flat on ya fucking arse ending up in ’ere. That’ll teach ya for being such a snobby bitch.’
Kara sat tentatively on the bed opposite with her head down in shame. ‘Is that what I looked like to you, a snob?’
Julie nibbled her lip. ‘You are stuck-up, walking around with ya nose in the air, in all ya fucking designer clothes, not even saying hello to anyone. And me sister Angie cleans for ya. She said you and ya ol’ man think ya shit don’t stink.’
There was a long pause before Kara looked up and sighed. ‘I suppose to you and Angie, I did look like that, but you’ve formed the wrong impression of me, you know. I wasn’t stuck-up, I was scared.’
‘Of what?’ Julie sounded narky.
‘Of you and the people on the estate. You all seemed to shout at each other, and I saw a few nasty rows where people threw bricks at each other. I wasn’t looking down my nose at all, and as for Angie, I was never horrible to her, I just kept out of her way, usually with my head in a book. I was always busy studying. So, she thought I was stuck-up as well, then?’
Julie was taken aback; she thought perhaps she’d got the woman all wrong. ‘Yeah, well, I dunno about that. I remember the way you were looking at me on the bus, like I was dog turd.’
Kara waved her hands. ‘No, no, you’re mistaken. I wasn’t looking at you like that. It’s hard to explain … You are worlds apart from me. I was being nosy. Yes, I admit it, but I was thinking how hard you had it, jumping on the bus with no money. I wasn’t being a snob, I felt for you, that’s all. Oh, and I was looking at your beautiful baby, thinking how sweet she was.’
‘Um, well, we ain’t all got a good job and a posh house, ya know.’
‘I know, and by the way, neither have I now. I fucking burned it down. My boyfriend has gone off with another woman, I got fired from my job, and now I’m in prison for how long, I don’t even know.’ She laughed. ‘So, Julie Meadows, I’m in your shoes now, and I’m still bloody scared.’
Julie sat back, raised her eyebrows, and smiled. ‘Guess you are, then. So, what’s ya name? Karen or something, ain’t it?’
‘No, it’s Kara, but I seem to have been given the nickname Posh.’
Julie’s face turned from a harsh, tight-lipped expression to a young fresher-looking appearance. ‘Stands to reason. Posh, eh?’
‘May I ask what you’re in for?’
‘I stabbed me sister, the lying, cheating cunt. I knew she was ’aving it away with me ol’ man, the lazy fat bastard, he is.’ Kara gathered this was the fourth sister she hadn’t met, rather than Angie.
Kara noticed Julie’s eyes fill up, but she instantly sniffed back the tears.
‘But he was my lazy fat bastard, not hers. Me own frigging sister, what a fucking skank. I should have stabbed her in the face instead of her leg. Then, she might think twice about going after my ol’ man again. S’pose it don’t matter now. I’m in ’ere and they are out there, probably fucking as we speak.’
‘I doubt that, if you stabbed her in the leg.’ Kara smiled, trying to lighten the mood.
With an unexpected childish giggle, Julie went on, ‘Yeah, I should have knifed her in the fanny. That would have well and truly fucked her up, eh?’
After an hour or so, Kara found her tongue and they spoke for England. Julie’s foul language had muted, and in some ways, Kara’s words had rubbed off on her. She had nothing to prove – no axes to grind, just relaxed conversation. And Kara found she was using some of Julie’s terminology and had ventured into throwing in the odd swear word. Their discussion around cheating husbands was halted when Vic arrived. ‘Fucking cosy, this, eh?’ she commented.
‘All right, Sis?’ responded Julie.
Kara had half expected them to hug, but they just eyed each other over and gave approving nods.
‘So, ya silly bitch, what ya gone an’ done now?’
