“Of course not, she would have liked you. She would have seen your loyalty to Drake a lot sooner than I did,” she chuckles.
In a small way I take comfort in her words and wish I had met his mother too.
Marg leaves shortly after, saying something about a hot bubble bath and a large glass of wine. I ache for a hot bath but I settle for a shower and climbing into bed, even though it is only seven o’clock in the evening.
I pull one of Drake’s hoodies from the floor on his side of the bed and cover my pillow with it. It’s a little thing but when I close my eyes I let myself imagine he is right beside me.
Part Two
Chapter Ten – August 2004
Drake
Another day beginning with a tasteless breakfast and a coffee that tastes like lukewarm mud. I have survived these atrocities for twenty months now and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t cling to the memories I have knowing how good they can taste outside of these prison walls.
The sun pours through the slit in the wall they call a window and I can feel the morning heat on my legs as I lay on my bunk.
It isn’t long before my peace, as much as I can find in this place, is disturbed. Ash, my cell mate makes his way to his bunk above mine and hangs his head over the edge looking down at me.
“What’s your problem today?” he asks, his face slowly turning a bright shade of red from the blood rushing to his head.
“Same problem as every other day in here,” I murmur, not interested in having this conversation with him again.
“Deveroux, you’ve got post.”
I roll over to face the door and barely have time to catch the envelope that is flying towards me.
I recognise the handwriting immediately. I flip it over and tear open the end and pull out the contents. Cammie’s letters are what get me through this sluggish hell, she fills me in on the most mundane details that we don’t get to cover on the phone or during visits. Even the paper smells like home.
11th August 2004
Dear Drake,
I have good news, I doubt you’ll find comfort from hearing it but to me, I am very excited. Lorna finally responded to a letter I wrote and mailed to her parent’s house in case she had moved from her flat in the last two years. We have been speaking on the phone and it’s like we never stopped talking. She’s coming to visit for three days next week! Les says I can have the time off so I’ve been planning. She has never been to London before so I’m going to take her sightseeing and make sure she sees as much as she can while she’s here. I can’t wait to see her again. It’s been so long since I felt like I had a real friend around. Marg has been brilliant and is a lot friendlier towards me, but she feels more like a mother figure than someone I can talk to on a personal level, I used to have that with Lorna and I hope I still do. I suppose I’ll find out next week.
I’m sure you’ll have something to say when you next call but I thought I’d put it in a letter first.
Moving on, I made over eighty pounds in tips this week. Each time this guy came in he would order a breakfast and a pot of tea then leave me a huge tip when he was finished. I thought he was just over the top but apparently I’m still naïve. I didn’t know that he would specifically ask for me to be his waitress and when Marg told Les about him, he had a word in the guy’s ear and told him to leave. He hasn’t been back since, this was three days ago.
He didn’t strike me as a danger but Les and Marg always know more than I do and whatever Les said to him, the guy definitely listened. So I guess I’m asking you, do you know what the guy’s deal is? You’ll have to ask Marg who he is.
Anyway, speaking of Marg. She has met someone. William is a sweet guy. Marg didn’t think so even when he brought her flowers into the café every day. She was horrible to him, I thought she would never give him a chance but all of a sudden he’s all she can talk about. I know he’s treating her well because like I said, he’s all she speaks about, if he wasn’t I’m sure I would have heard about it by now.
I’m happy for her, I truly am, but a part of me can’t help feeling a little jealous. They are still excited about getting to know each other and having fun going on dates, that was taken from us. I know this isn’t what we would have planned and things happen you can’t control but I hate that night that changed everything for us even more when I sit here on my own and you’re in that horrible place. I struggle sometimes to remember a time when you were here with me. It’s funny because I have been living in your flat, sleeping in your bed and living in your world and it’s all been without you. Everyone knows I’m your girlfriend and treats me with respect, because of you. Nobody has forgotten about you, I get asked all the time about you. Most days I don’t mind and other days, I want to throw their drinks over them for reminding me you’re not here to answer for yourself. I find myself getting angry all the time, I miss you so much and being apart this long is driving me crazy. Sometimes it feels like you’re never coming home. I’m sorry if I sound selfish, it is just so hard the longer you are in there. I promise my next letter won’t be so depressing.
All my love, Cammie.
P.S I have taken advantage of your absence and brought new bedding. Your choice of bland, grey sheets was too depressing.
Xxx
“I take it the letter is from your girl? You only get that goofy grin on your mucker for her,” Ash comments, jumping down off his bunk.
“I thought we established we don’t ask each other personal questions?” I mumble.
For months I have tried to train him into keeping his curiosity to a minimum. I have had some annoying cell mates over the years during my different lock ups but none more so than this kid. At twenty-one years old, he looks twelve and acts like a five-year-old most days.
“We’ve been sharing this cell for nine months now, I thought we built a sort of friendship,” he says.
Oh God, I am definitely starting to regret saving his arse the third day he came here. It was plain to see for anyone here that he was petrified from a mile off. He was a sniffling puppy in the middle a hungry pack of wolves chomping at the bit for fresh meat. A couple of inmates began to take advantage of this and I was left listening to him crying into his pillow each night.
Taking him under my wing was purely for selfish reasons just to get some peace of a night but to him, he saw it as a blooming friendship beginning.
“Thinking you have friends in this place will get you used and killed,” I tell him, for the hundredth time.
“It doesn’t matter I suppose, I’ll be out of here in three days,” he grins.
“Thank fuck for that,” I mutter.
I could go easier on the kid but it has been a long nine months in this cell with him continuously chatting away. How I haven’t rammed his head into the brick wall is beyond me.
Swinging my legs over the side of the bunk I stand up and grab my notepad and pen as well as my phone card. I need to call Marg to find who out who this guy is Cam writes about and then I’ll find more peace in the rec room with a bunch of inmates than I will in this cell with only Ash.
For once there isn’t a queue for the phone and I quickly dial the cafes number, Marg will be working and I hope she answers.
My fingers drum the top of the phone booth as I wait for someone to answer.
“Good morning, Les’s Café, Marg speaking.”
I smile briefly listening to her voice change from common to posh whilst she’s on the phone.
“Alright Marg? It’s Drake,” I begin, “Don’t let on that I’m on the phone to you, okay?”
“Okay, how can I help you?” she says, playing along.
“I got a letter from Cam this morning, she’s telling me about a guy who Les had to jog on. Who is it?” I ask.
She goes quiet and I can hear her shuffling around, I hear a door shut and then she speaks, “It was Jerome’s brother, I forget his name but he was taking too much of an interest in Cam so Les had a word. He hasn’t been back, Stan says he hasn
’t seen him either.” she says, half speaking and half whispering.
How could I have forgotten about Jerome, the morning I was arrested he was on the news as a captured suspect for the robbery we did in Norwich a few months prior to that. I make a note to ask around to see where he is now. I was never worried he would give our names up, he knows the life and the consequences.
“Why would he be interested in Cam?” I ask.
“Who knows, but don’t go fretting about it. We won’t let anyone near her,” she promises me.
“Let me know if he comes back around.”
“I will, look, I’ve got to go. Les is about to blow out there,” she laughs.
“Alright, speak soon. Just quickly though, how is she today? She sounds down in her letter.”
“She’s doing good today, she’s looking forward to her friend coming and her visit with you at the end of the week.”
“Good, I’ll call you soon,” I tell her.
“Bye Drake.”
I hang up feeling a little better hearing Cammie is happier today.
I exchange the now empty phone card for another and dial Stan’s number. It rings out for four rings before he answers.
“It’s Drake, how’s it going?”
“Good, mate. What you calling for?” he asks.
“You forgot to mention Gerald has been sniffing around Cammie, care to enlighten me?”
The call goes quiet and then he speaks.
“I was going to mention it on the next visit. He’s only been in the café, I tracked him down after Marg told me Les slung him out and he said he’s around for Jerome’s funeral.”
Funeral? When the fuck did he die? Actually, how did he fucking die?
“I saw on the news they got him for a robbery the day I was arrested, how can he be dead?” I ask choosing my words carefully.
“You know he was a pussy, looked like he did the crime but he couldn’t handle the time. They found him hanging in his cell,” he explains.
“Hanging by his own hands or by someone else’s?”
“From his own by what I can gather, Gerald isn’t taking it too well.”
“No, I don’t suppose he is.”
“Everything’s fine, Drake. Don’t worry,” he offers.
“I do nothing but worry about her. How she doing, today?”
“She’s good, she doesn’t really go out much apart from to the café.”
“Why? Has she got anyone going round the flat?”
I feel like a cunt for asking behind her back, but it drives me crazy in here and all sorts run through my head.
Stan’s mocking laugh booms down the phone and I want to punch him.
“No Drake, I don’t know how you managed it but the girl is totally besotted with you. She doesn’t look at other men because she doesn’t see them.”
It shouldn’t but this makes me feel much better.
“Okay, good. I’ll call you later, you still good for our visit next week?”
“Of course.”
“Later.”
I hang up and head for the rec room. Inmates nod and greet me respectively as I make my way to find a quiet spot in the large room. I pick an empty table by the window and begin my reply letter to Cammie.
21st August 2004
To my Cammie,
To start with, I couldn’t give a fuck if the bedding you choose is covered in fluffy kittens and rainbows, as long as I am the one who is holding you under them.
I don’t like reading how sad you are, it plays on my mind and knowing I can’t do anything to make you smile is frustrating. I’m glad Lorna is coming to see you. I know how much you have missed her. I’m glad because she makes you happy and while I’m unable to do that, I count my blessings that she can. I only worry because I remember how she would leave you to go off with men she hardly knew. I dread to think of her doing that in the middle of London, it is nothing like the town you are both from. As long as you can assure me that you will be safe then I won’t give you a hard time about her.
It’s nice to hear Marg is finally happy with a bloke, she hasn’t mentioned anything about him during our calls so I am assuming she thinks I will have a problem with him, she has been known to over think things in the past.
As far as the guy in the café is concerned, he is an old friend’s brother. He probably knows I’m in here and his tips are his way of trying to make life a bit easier for you. I have looked out for his brother many times and I wouldn’t be surprised if this is his way of trying to make up for it. Les would have moved him on knowing I won’t like another man giving you money while you hate taking mine. It’s fucked up to think that way but it is what it is.
There’s not much to tell you about me this week, life is the same as it was yesterday, last week, last month and last year. The only things that change on a regular basis are my thoughts. I know you don’t like thinking about the reason that put me in here but being in here I have nothing but time to think. All I think about is you and us. Lately I have been thinking about what could have been. I don’t like thinking along those terms because the past can’t be changed so it is pointless rehashing it over and over again. The more I think about it the more the pain and frustration eats at me.
I worked out months ago that our baby would have been born sometime in August last year. For our first year’s anniversary we would have had our first child together. As I sit here writing you this letter he or she (I like to think it would have been a he) would have been celebrating their first birthday this month. I imagine us surrounding a big birthday cake with our son in your arms while we blow out the lonesome candle. We would capture every moment on camera and display them around our home to show him how much we love him. There would be colourful balloons and banners decorating the entire room and more food than we could eat. The day would be filled with love and laughter.
It is not my intention to upset you writing about this, I want you to know there isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t dream about sharing myself with you in that way. I want everything with you Cammie. Most importantly I want a family of our own with you. One day we will have it all, I promise you that on my life.
Till that day arrives please believe that you are the only one getting me through this the way I have. The countdown to my release is in my head constantly but it is the countdowns to your visits when I see just how beautiful you are and the precious time when we speak on the phone, hearing your voice that keeps me going.
This is the hardest sentence I’ve endured. All the other times they have locked me up I didn’t have anyone waiting for me on the outside.
Sure I had Marg and she has always tried to be there, but with you it is so much different. I too have been struggling without you, this place fucks with your head and lets the demons run wild with your thoughts. Many times I convince myself you have gone, not being able to cope being apart any longer. I convince myself you are better off without me but that selfish streak tells it to piss off and you’re mine and you’re not going anywhere. I know you’ll be waiting for me when I get out and I cling to that every day. I do not and never will for one second think you are selfish. You may be able to walk wherever you need to when you want and lock your own door without being regulated by a screw but you don’t have freedom. Your freedom was taken from you the same day it was taken from me because you love me. We will get through this babe and when I get out I will make everything right and these days will become nothing but a nasty memory that will never be repeated.
I miss you more each day and I love you so damn much.
All my love, Drake.
I fold the paper into the envelope and make my escape as a fight breaks out over the channel choice on the shitty television. The sooner I’m out of here, the fucking better.
Chapter Eleven
Cammie
The train station is heaving as I walk against the throng of people in a rush to get to their destinations. The excitement that has been building all this week in anticipation
of Lorna’s visit has been double edged with a nervousness I never thought I would expect with her. I went from seeing her nearly every day to nothing in two years. Our calls over the last month have been like old times, but it is easy to hide the true hurtful emotions when you are not face to face. This visit we will not be able to hide how we truly feel with each other. I know my disappearance with Drake hurt her and I have a lot of making up to do. But not returning my calls all this time has hurt me too. If she had spoken to me I would have told her that what I have with Drake isn’t a temporary whim and that my taking off wasn’t for nothing.
I can’t get through the barriers unless I have a ticket so I wait for her by the escalators. Looking at my watch, her train should be in by now. I look around for her but all I see are many men and women dressed in suits milling around.
“Cammie.”
I turn around to find a woman my age standing behind me. This isn’t my best friend of nearly twenty years. She is much slimmer and her hair is way too short in a sharp cut bob with red streaks running through it to be my friend, the Lorna I knew would never chop her gorgeous locks off like this. Yet, it is my friend. It is Lorna. It takes a minute to see her but she is there, here, standing right before me.
She smiles weakly and I throw my arms around her. She drops her bag and hugs me back. We stand like this in everyone’s way longer than we should be and only pull apart because we can’t stand here all day.
“I’m so happy you’re here, I have missed you like crazy,” I tell her.
A look of guilt and sadness sweeps over her but I choose to ignore it.
“Come on, let’s get out of here.”
An awkwardness passes between us and again, I ignore it. She is here, somewhere we still have our friendship and I intend to fight to have it again.
An hour later I am unlocking the door to my flat and I hold it open for Lorna to enter.
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