by KERRY BARNES
Kara’s lower lip trembled. The tension was so hostile and downright scary. Suddenly, the light went out and she had to feel her way around the cell. Running her hands along the bed and to the small partitioned wall, she finally found the place she wanted. Kneeling beside the chrome toilet, she hoped beyond hope that she wouldn’t be sick anywhere near her cellmate.
For over an hour, Kara gripped the basin, with nothing but the tremendous feeling of guilt for company. She just couldn’t get Mrs Langley off her mind; it was eating away at her. Silently, she prayed for the poor woman’s full recovery. The nausea was relentless, so she sat on the hard floor with her chin resting on the stinking toilet bowl until she felt her head nod as she began to drift off to sleep.
The sickly feeling at last receded, so she crept onto her hard bed and entered the world of darkness. In no time at all, a loud sound pulled her from her nightmares. Doors were opening, and the small room lit up. Colette was rolling a cigarette, her fat tongue sliding along the sides of the rolling paper before she stuck it together. She didn’t look at Kara but just jumped up and left, with the cigarette in her mouth.
Kara sat upright, trying to get her bearings; everything was still surreal. The night before when she was in reception, the officers were reeling off so much information, she couldn’t take it all in. It was something about breakfast, showers, jobs, and times.
A few minutes later, in the doorway, a tall woman with wild black hair, grinning from ear-to-ear, was showing a neat row of gold teeth. Kara couldn’t work out if she was black or white. Her features were African, but her skin was milky, and her eyes were green. Kara was uncomfortable because the woman’s gaze was anything but welcoming.
‘Cole tells me ya burned ya house down, fucked up the neighbour, ’cos she fucked ya ol’ man.’ She had her hands on the doorframe and was gently swinging in and out of the cell.
A bead of sweat trickled down Kara’s back and her face flushed. She recognised that feeling. The sickness was coming up, and this time she couldn’t hold it. Ignoring the tall woman, she leaped from the bed and hurled her stomach contents down the toilet. As she pulled away, she noticed how disgusting the toilet actually was and then remembered she’d been leaning on it for some time during the night. With that thought in mind, she heaved again. There was nothing left to bring up.
With wobbly legs, she tried to stand up and had to grip the wall. As she turned, she saw the small sink and leaned heavily, bowing her head and catching her breath. She turned on the taps and ran her hot face under the flowing water, whilst slurping mouthfuls of the cold liquid. She spat twice and then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Falling back onto her bed, she glanced up at the woman in the doorway. The ordeal had no doubt made her own eyes bloodshot and evil-looking.
Kara took a deep breath. ‘What did you say?’ she tried to sound friendly, but her voice was hoarse and her expression demonic. The woman stopped swaying on the doorframe and stepped back, as if unsure what to make of Kara.
At that moment, the inmate was shoved away from the entrance to the cell and in her place stood a square-shouldered, tall, and heavily built screw, as they called them. Kara should have been relieved. Weren’t they the good guys?
‘Bannon, you’re supposed to be back at reception!’ the screw growled, her voice deep and husky. ‘Get up and follow me.’ Kara naively expected the officer to be less harsh and less manly. It was the big tits that gave her sex away. Dressed in the prison sweats, Kara dragged herself up, still shaking, and stepped forward. The screw huffed, ‘Jesus, woman, what’s the fucking matter with ya? Get a wriggle on. I ain’t got all day!’
Kara gulped back a breath, hoping she could get enough oxygen to her brain to stay upright and walk on. Outside the cell, she noticed prisoners bustling from one place to another, all on some kind of mission. She tried to keep her head down, too afraid of making eye contact with anyone. This was so far detached from anything else she’d ever experienced, that it was hard to stomach. Even her first day at boarding school wasn’t this intimidating. The banging and clanking of keys and doors was a stark call of reality to the situation.
As the officer marched ahead, Kara noticed the inmates looked away. The officer was the one who called the shots – that was a given. As they approached the end of the landing, an inmate, who was standing in the doorway of her cell, swiftly stepped out and unexpectedly pinched Kara’s arse and whistled. A fear crushed her, and she could feel the tears welling up.
No, this wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening. How would she ever survive? She wasn’t gay, she wasn’t streetwise, and she certainly wasn’t hard. She felt the tear trickle down her face and quickly she wiped it away. The screw unlocked the end door and pushed her through, locking it behind her. They marched down the stairs and along another hallway, until, finally, they were in the reception area. Kara was too afraid to look at anyone, until she heard a man’s voice. ‘Kara Bannon?’
Slowly, she glanced up and nodded.
There, a tall, dark-haired, and smartly dressed man in his mid-forties, who reminded her of a younger Hugh Bonneville, smiled compassionately, giving Kara a feeling of hope. Please tell me I am going home?
‘You need to fill out this form. They forgot yesterday.’ He spun a piece of paper around on the desk and handed her a pen. The female officer stood by her side like a concrete statue. Kara looked at the form. It had two questions: name and next of kin. She scribbled her name, and on the line below, she wrote ‘no one’.
The male officer took the form from her, and then he raised his eyebrow. ‘You have no next of kin?’
Kara shook her head.
‘What, no parents, partner, brother, sister, or even aunts?’
Kara shook her head again. ‘No one,’ she whispered.
‘Okay, now it was a mad rush yesterday. It always is on the weekends. Have you been told the process, like how it works?’
Before Kara could answer, the screw jumped in. ‘Yep, Gov, she was given the full low-down—’ She was cut short.
‘Sandra, was I talking to you? Go back to the wing. I want to talk to Bannon alone.’
Sandra gave him a spiteful sneer and stomped away. Once the door was slammed shut, the man looked Kara up and down. She gathered he must be the governor or assistant governor. ‘A lot to take in, isn’t it?’
Kara raised her head and smiled nervously. ‘Yes, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, you see. It’s all new to me.’
‘Yes, I can see that … Look, Kara, I won’t pretend it’s a bed of roses in here because it isn’t. I suggest you keep your head down, don’t listen to the other inmates, and sign up for a job right away. Of course, you don’t have to because you’re only on remand, but it might be better if you do. You have fifteen pounds a week for the canteen, which means money to buy stamps, treats, tobacco, and phonecards. Your breakfast will be left in the cell and the lunchtime and dinnertime meals will be in the canteen.’ He chewed the inside of his mouth. ‘You can order books from the library.’ He probably guessed she liked reading, just by the way she spoke. ‘What was your job on the outside?’
Kara swallowed hard. Her job was her life, except for Justin, and both were gone now. ‘Epidemiologist,’ she replied.
‘Okay, Kara, well, mopping floors will be a drastic change.’ He was clearly trying to make a joke, but Kara was still in shock and riven with uncertainty.
She stared at his deep blue eyes and noticed they had a kind sentiment about them. ‘I don’t know how I should address you or anyone for that matter.’
‘My name is George, but you must call me Gov. You can’t really go wrong with calling all the staff Gov. The other girls do,’ he replied.
George had worked his way up through the system for twenty years and took no shit from anyone – the inmates or his fellow officers. He had only worked at Larkview Prison for a year, having been taken on by the number one governor. She wanted the prison cleaned up, and he was the man for the job.
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In his time, he had seen hundreds of inmates come and go and some return time and time again, yet he had never come across an inmate like Kara Bannon. It was the sadness in her remarkable amber eyes that set her apart. She was sweet and naturally attractive. Her hair was fair and her skin flawless. He inwardly sighed. She wouldn’t look so fresh after a stint in here. The bright lively waves of hair that shone would no doubt grow dull and lifeless, and her dewy glow would diminish, along with her soul.
‘Right, I’ll organise a job for you in a few days’ time, but for now, you can get to know how things work on the wing. You can go to the canteen. That’s where you buy your essentials, if you need anything.’
Kara shook her head. ‘I don’t usually smoke or eat sweets and I have nobody to write to or call.’ She didn’t seem to be saying it for the sympathy vote. George felt for the girl because deep down, he knew she would get eaten alive. Her posh voice, her naive manner, and her good looks would do her no favours. He smiled and nodded towards the door. ‘Okay, I shall escort you back.’
* * *
On the surface, he seemed soft and kind, and yet Kara, with one exception, had never trusted anyone. She never had and for good reason. All except Justin; she had trusted him and look where that had ended up.
As they walked back to the wing, he went over the procedures again. This time, Kara took it all on board – she had to, if she was to survive in this hellhole. She would have been put on the new inmates’ course, a short introduction that gave them a run-down on how the prison operated, what to expect, and what they expected from her. However, the prison was very short-staffed and so the two-day course was wrapped up in two hours.
Back inside her cell, she noticed the box that was supposed to contain her breakfast. It was empty. That Cole woman had stolen it. Kara’s stomach was now rumbling, and she thought back to the last time she had eaten anything. She couldn’t remember, it was so long ago. She would have to keep up her strength. Colette was sitting smugly with her eyebrow raised as if to say, ‘Yeah, go on, Kara, say something.’
Kara hesitated, but then she made a stupid mistake. It was her biggest blunder and a real learning curve for her, accusing Colette of stealing her food. ‘That was my breakfast, I do believe.’ Her tone was soft, but there was an undercurrent of sarcasm. She never meant it to come out that way, but it did, and it was too late to take it back. Colette was off her bed in an instant. She spun around, and with a clenched fist, she punched Kara clean in the mouth. The thud was hard and knocked Kara against the wall. She tasted the blood and winced, just as another punch hit her. This time, she felt her head smack against cold concrete. It was as if the wind was knocked out of her. Colette stepped back with a cruel, beady look in her eye and dared Kara to fight back.
Colette’s fighting skills were gained from many a ruck inside. She had a reputation, and with her fast and furious blows, she would have an opponent on the deck in the blink of an eye. Some brave or stupid souls returned the violence, but the clued-up ones begged her to stop.
However, Kara was still in total shock. She had never been hit before and it wasn’t as she had anticipated. Her cheek hurt like a dull cramp and she was left with a sore tingling. But it was the unknown that was the problem. It was the prospect of further aggression that was frightening her and also not knowing the possible damage that would be inflicted on her.
Her fear when she entered the prison was the brutality, isolation, and inhumanity, along with deprivation. After she wiped the blood away with the back of her hand, she stared at Colette with a dull expression that didn’t match her thoughts. She was stunned and should have been terrified. Yet, for some odd reason, this initiation into prison life really wasn’t as bad as she had imagined. Deep inside her mind, she’d gained an ability to detach herself. Besides, the pain of losing everything was worse and perhaps the smack in the mouth was a wake-up call to snap her out of the daze she’d been living in.
Colette was watching the younger woman’s still countenance, gauging Kara’s next move. But there was no move: Kara just continued to gape at Colette with no life in her eyes. It was a poignant moment, which Colette, for all her bravado, was at a loss to explain. Normally, if she gave a bird a good hard lump, they would either try to defend themselves, or, more likely, they would crumble on the floor in a ball, begging for her to stop. Either way, it was a win-win.
She was a bully in every sense of the word. Her accounts of GBH and ABH were as long as her arm and ended up with her serving four years. Prison didn’t bother her in the least. In fact, she found it a doddle: three meals a day, a bed, and not having to think for herself – what was there not to like? She loved to be a plastic gangster, talking tough and exaggerating her crimes.
The truth was she lived with her elderly mother, fact; she was ugly and stupid, both incontrovertible facts; and she had nothing going for her. The only respect she got was from her ability to knock out grown men. Inside that hard-ass armoury, there was a sad, lonely woman longing to be loved by a man, to have a family, and to be cherished. Her father had run off when she was two and her mother was a shy, weak little woman who had no control over Colette at all. She was a victim of circumstances, and unfortunately, she knew it, which was why she was merciless inside the nick.
Kara’s eyes were bloodshot again and it gave her an almost fiendish look. She continued to stare, as if not really knowing what to do. Colette slumped her shoulders and sat heavily on the bed. She slid her hand under the mattress and retrieved a Snickers bar, her favourite treat from the canteen. ‘’Ere, if ya are so fucking hungry, ’ave this.’
Kara still didn’t move. She was intent on keeping her eye on Colette, in case she tried to bash her once again. She wiped her bloodied mouth for the third time and could feel the swelling of her bottom lip. It didn’t hurt at all. It was strange because she knew it probably looked bad. She ran her hand over her cheekbone to feel the lump protruding under her eye and again was astounded that the swelling was numb.
Colette watched her checking her wounds and waited for the backlash, but there was none. Kara sat herself down and shook her head. ‘I don’t eat chocolate. But, thank you, anyway.’ Her response was typically articulated, her Oxford accent clearly pronouncing each and every word.
Colette wasn’t sure if Kara was being sarcastic or that was just her normal way of speaking. ‘You don’t fucking accuse people of nicking ya gear ’cos you will get fucking hurt, right?’
Kara replied in a flat tone, ‘But it isn’t right. I was extremely hungry. I haven’t eaten for days.’
Colette wasn’t used to anyone speaking to her like that except for her schoolteachers, many years ago. Unbelievably, she felt like a child again.
Standing up and closing the cell door, she replied, ‘Listen, Posh, I ain’t got any beef with ya, and I s’pose it’s easier if we gel, ’cos I’m gonna ’ave ta put up wiv ya. So ’ere are the rules. Change the way ya speak, or you are gonna get a fucking good hiding. The birds in ’ere don’t take too kindly to you looking down ya hooter at ’em, and ya best learn to be on high alert, watch ya back, keep outta people’s business and …’
She paused and looked Kara over. ‘And, if ya do get in any trouble, you be sure ya come and find me. ’Cos, I have a reputation, see. Not many will fuck wiv me. I’m one ’ard bitch.’ She was showing off and wanted to be feared. For some reason, this waif of a woman was intimidating her. Perhaps it was her educated voice – Colette guessed she hadn’t gone to her local state school – or the woman’s weird expression when she was given a good thumping. Either way, she could be a force to be reckoned with, and Colette wasn’t taking any chances.
Kara gave Colette a gentle smile. Her fat lip and the lump on her cheek made Colette unexpectedly feel a twinge of guilt. The girl was very pretty, and she’d just messed up her face, and for what? It had just been to prove a point, end of. It was wrong on every level, and she knew it.
‘Thank you, Cole. I’ll try to speak like you, if it he
lps.’
Now, Colette felt even more guilty. Kara wasn’t like the others, that was for sure. She was sweet and innocent.
The door swung open, and in stepped the inmate who Kara had seen earlier, before the screw pushed her away. ‘All right, Cole, so what’s happening?’
The mystery woman looked Kara over, as if intrigued to know more about her. Earlier, Kara had felt a little uncomfortable to be alone with her.
Colette shuffled along the bed so her buddy could join them.
‘Her name’s Posh. She’s all right, Dora.’
Dora’s face changed and she gave a dirty grin. ‘Oh, yeah, it’s like that, is it?’ She winked at Kara, who, of course, had no idea what she meant.
Colette gave Dora a hard nudge. ‘Fuck off, Dora, it ain’t like that – she ain’t my type. You, of all people, should know that.’
Dora lowered her eyes and blushed.
Kara’s mind was whirring. Was Colette a lesbian and Dora her girlfriend? The image of an inmate coming on to her was worse than being violently attacked. Or perhaps it was much the same thing. She shuddered. She watched Dora run her hands down Colette’s leg and wondered if long-term prisoners who weren’t gay turned to each other for comfort. Assuming they wanted some privacy, Kara jumped to her feet and asked, ‘Where’s the library?’
Colette turned her head to the side. ‘What’s the matter wiv ya? Ain’t our company good enough for ya?’
In normal circumstances, Kara would have chosen her words more carefully, but this situation was hardly normal. And she wasn’t sure what saying the right thing would do for her credibility. There was no room here for decorum or polite niceties. No, she was going to have to play their game, and where she could, she would stay away from conflict. ‘Cole, I’m going to leave you two to have some private time. I think if we are sharing a cell, it’s only right that I let you have your space. It’s obvious what you two intend to do.’ She looked down at Dora’s hand.