by Annette Heys
Kate gave him a hug. ‘That’s the second time I’ve been misinterpreted today.’ Ben cocked his head to one side and frowned at her. ‘I was just about to have lunch. Fancy something?’
‘You’re OK thanks, Mum. I had a burger at the station.’
‘Tea then? I wasn’t really hungry anyway.’
‘Have you got a beer? Travelling doesn’t half give you a thirst.’
Kate laughed at his cheek and he followed her into the kitchen where she took one of Jim’s cans from the fridge. ‘So how come you’re here on a Monday afternoon?’ The unmistakable hiss of a split ring-tab sounded behind her and she filled the kettle before reaching for a glass.
‘Don’t worry, saves on the washing up.’ She turned to find Ben already swigging from the can and shook her head in mock disapproval. ‘Not sure how to tell you.’ He leaned against the worktop, arm outstretched, his long fingers wrapped tightly around his drink, making a barrier between them.
Kate threw a teabag from the caddy into her cup, poured in the boiling water and watched it swirl around before stabbing at it with a teaspoon. ‘Try me,’ she said, quietly.
‘Marianne and me . . . well, we’ve decided to split up.’
Kate remained silent for a moment as she squeezed out the teabag on the side of her cup. ‘Are you sure it’s a joint decision, Ben?’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ He drew his arm away and took a step back.
Was that aggression in his voice, surprise, or what? It threw her off guard and she wished she’d waited to hear him out. But it was too late. She would have to go on. ‘It’s just something she said . . . at Christmas, when we last saw you both.’
‘What did she say,—what could she say except we haven’t been getting on recently?’
Kate turned and looked him full in the face. He stared back but she was not convinced by his puzzled expression; was it fear she detected behind his eyes? Her old worries re-surfaced. ‘She just wondered what you did with your money, that’s all. Ben, if you haven’t been paying your way . . .’
‘But I have, of course I have. You know what it’s like, bills and stuff. OK, I have the odd night out, but doesn’t everyone? What would be the point if you can’t enjoy yourself once in a while?’ He felt in his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. ‘You know, Marianne has such high expectations. Just because her parents are well off, she expects me to give her the same lifestyle.’
Kate knew that wasn’t true. If anything, Marianne had always seemed quite thrifty, except when it came to Ben. The watch she’d bought him at Christmas must have cost several hundred pounds. It was easy to imagine how she had come to spend that much on him. He would have told her which designer watch he liked and then feigned surprise at the cost and told her she mustn’t buy it. But she wouldn’t want to disappoint him by buying something inferior. Seeing his delight on opening his present would take care of the extravagance.
Kate looked her son up and down. His clothes didn’t look particularly new and his trainers had seen better days whereas Marianne was always well turned out. She suddenly felt she was being slightly unfair to Ben. Whatever had happened between them was no business of hers and she mustn’t take sides. ‘Well, I’m sorry to hear it, Ben. You know how much I like Marianne but . . . are you sure it’s over?’
‘Yes, Mum, I’m sure.’ He twirled the can around before taking another swig and then took a long drag on his cigarette.
‘What about the flat?’
‘Marianne says she’ll move out.’
‘But you can’t afford it on your own, can you?’
‘Just about.’ He shook the can, squashed it in his hand and threw it into the bin.
‘Sounds like you’ll have to forego even the odd night out to me,’ Kate couldn’t resist telling him.
‘So be it. Look, Mum, I can’t make someone stay with me if they don’t want to.’
‘Then it is Marianne’s decision.’
‘What is this, the Spanish Inquisition? I came to let you know what’s going on. It isn’t easy for me, you know. I mean I do still have feelings for her.’ He went to the fridge and took out another can. Kate was about to say something but stopped herself. Ben couldn’t handle too much confrontation and it was obvious he was upset. If it was her decision he was bound to feel bad about it.
‘Why don’t you stay for dinner? I’m not sure what time Jim will be home but we needn’t wait. How does spag.bol. sound?’
‘OK, great. There’s just one other thing . . . I need a favour.’
‘Oh?’
‘I have to pay Marianne’s deposit on another place.’
‘And you’ve no money.’
‘I’ve worked everything out. We get a rise in a couple of months so I can start paying you back as soon as it comes through.’
‘How much?’
‘She’s seen a place she really likes but needs to put a thousand down before the end of next week or she might lose it.’
Kate turned and looked out of the window. She rested her elbows on the worktop and held her tea with both hands but she didn’t really see anything on the outside. A thousand pounds, just like that, yet what was the alternative? Come back home? No, that wouldn’t be an option. ‘When do you need it?’
‘Is it possible to have it today? Only it will have to be cash. A cheque will take too long to clear.’
She felt irritated. The pleasure at seeing him had all but gone. All she was aware of was the vast amount of money she was about to hand over to him on the strength of his story. There was nothing to back it up. It was all out of the blue. He certainly didn’t seem embarrassed about asking for it. Had he simply forgotten what had gone on before? She looked hard into his eyes. ‘I do want it back, Ben.’
‘Oh, course. I said, didn’t I, just as soon as I get my pay rise. You don’t know what a worry it is off my mind. Thanks, Mum.’
Kate picked up the dishcloth and wiped it over the worktop, though there wasn’t so much as a crumb on it. She didn’t want him to see the tears in her eyes or to detect the worry he’d just shifted from himself onto her.
They drove the short journey into town in silence. Kate couldn’t quite believe what she was doing but the wheels were in motion and she wouldn’t renege on her decision. There was no point in saying anything more about it. Once she’d handed the money over, perhaps she would feel better because then the unsavoury part of it would be behind her and they could behave naturally with one another again.
Ben stood outside the building society smoking while Kate went inside. She handed over her book and made her request. The whole transaction took no more than a couple of minutes. The cashier smiled at her as she handed over the money and asked if there was anything more she could do for her. Kate shook her head, took the wad of notes and walked straight out.
As soon as he saw her, Ben stubbed his cigarette out on the floor. Kate handed him the notes and watched him stuff them into his inside coat pocket.
‘Thanks a lot, Mum. Look, I’ve been thinking . . . do you mind if I take a rain check on dinner, only I’d like to give this to Marianne right away.’
‘Can’t you ring her . . . tell her she’ll have it later?’
‘She’s changed her mobile, and I don’t have her new number.’
‘But why . . . ?’
‘Sorry, Mum, I’ll have to dash. I’ll just about catch the 4.30 back home.’ He kissed her lightly on the cheek and sprinted off up the road.
Though the street was busy, Kate felt utterly alone. She carefully placed the small blue book into her handbag, its depleted balance praying on her mind. As she walked back to the car, a weariness came over her that was dreadful in its familiarity. She remembered their turbulent existence when Ben lived at home. Since he had moved to Leeds with Marianne, Kate hadn’t seen him more than
once or twice a year. She felt she hardly knew him anymore; it was as though he was a stranger to her.
Aside from all these memories, what worried her more than anything was the thought of being unable to share any of this with Jim.
Kate had barely slept more than a couple of hours all night. She now lay in the soft glow of the bedside lamp staring at the curtains, conjuring up grotesque faces of people or animals in the busy pattern. Anything was better than allowing her mind to wander back to the previous day’s events but still they thrust their way in. As if work hadn’t been stressful enough, there was now the added pressure of Ben’s problems, and not for the first time. Jim would be furious if he knew. To deceive him in any way was despicable to her. One thing they had both strongly agreed about when they first met was the importance of trust in a relationship. Without trust there was little hope of happiness. Yet Ben was her son; it was her duty to help him wasn’t it? And the money was hers. It had nothing to do with Jim. These thoughts went some way to appeasing her conscience but the fact she hadn’t told him would not allow her total peace of mind over her actions.
At the sound of footsteps on the stairs, Kate sat up and reached across for another pillow. She was struggling to arrange it behind her as Jim walked into the room.
‘Here’s your tea, though I wasn’t sure whether you’d prefer a beer.’ Placing the cup on the bedside table, he sat down on the edge of the divan and turned to look at her.
‘What?’ For a moment she thought he knew something and for a split second she was overcome with guilt.
‘In the bin . . . two empty cans; one of them looks as if you had it in for someone. Only you don’t usually drink beer.’
‘I know, but . . . well, you weren’t home and I was feeling a bit jaded.’
‘Hey, I’m not criticising.’ He pulled her towards him and held her close to his chest. ‘Poor love. You were asleep when I got in. Was it really that bad?’
‘I don’t suppose so. It was just such a relief to get the first day over with.’
‘Why you chose to work in a prison I’ll never know, but you don’t have to stick it out if you don’t like it. I’m sure you’d soon get a job in a college.’
She pulled away from him and reached for her tea. ‘It’s OK,—really.’
Jim looked at her for a moment and then reached across to brush away the hair that half covered her face. She quickly dipped her head down towards her cup and took a sip. ‘Right, best be off, I’ve a busy day ahead.’ He stooped and kissed her lightly on the forehead before leaving.
Kate lay still and listened to the front door closing behind him, the sputter of the engine as he started the van and the accelerating revs as he pulled away up the road. She hadn’t been sleeping when he came home last night. She’d been praying. During the three years Ben and Marianne had been together, her life had been fairly stress free. What was a few years of studying compared to the constant disruptions of an errant child? But ‘child’ was pushing it. He was, what, twenty years old when it started,—well past the stroppy adolescent stage. All that anger and frustration; where had it come from and why had it materialised at that stage in his life? He’d never been any trouble as a child or teenager. Jim had been patient but towards the end his patience had worn thin. If he hadn’t met Marianne when he did, Ben would have been thrown out. His antics had pushed their marriage to its limits but Marianne had been their saviour, and Ben’s. So what was she thinking by keeping Jim in the dark?
Deception had come all too easily to her. She had fobbed him off and he didn’t suspect a thing, had even shown compassion over her supposed awful first day at work. She flung back the duvet and slipped out of bed. Already she was pushing this matter to the back of her mind and thinking about the day ahead. What was done was done. She would let things ride, for the time being at least.
As she walked towards the gates, Kate saw John ahead of her. She soon caught up with him and they entered prison together. The huge iron gate slid to one side letting them into a windowless square space. Once the gate had closed behind them, another opened in front and they stepped out into the waiting room. The officer at the desk nudged one of his colleagues and called out jovially, ‘Here they are,—the folk who live off immoral earnings.’
Kate looked at John who was quick to respond. ‘It beats sitting around all day struggling with The Sun crossword.’ He winked at her, took his keys from his belt and opened the first door. They slipped through into the corridor.
‘I take it the prison officers don’t appreciate what we do in here?’ Kate ventured.
‘Oh, take no notice of Eddie; he’s always trying to wind us up. But you’re right; some of them think education is a waste of time and effort, as well as their taxes. And we know as well as they do that some of these buggers are just using education for an easy time of it while they’re inside. Although some of them do want to educate themselves, and it isn’t easy for them given what they’re up against.’
‘You mean whether it will benefit them when they get out?’
‘I’m not thinking that far ahead. So many things influence them inside, drugs, hooch, thieving, bullying. Then there’s the external influence, girlfriends, family. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen a man absolutely devastated when he’s had a ‘Dear John’ letter, or he’s told a parent is dying. A lot of the time they won’t go to the funeral because of the ‘cuffs. Undignified to be seen tied to an officer in front of friends and family. Well, it’s more than that. Believe it or not, it’s more likely to be out of respect for their loved one. So for a lot of the men in here, self-improvement isn’t high on their list of priorities. Just keeping it together and getting through their ‘bird’ is what matters most.’
All this interested Kate. Like most people, she’d never given much thought to what happens to prisoners once they’re locked up. They’re put inside as a punishment for their crime and to keep them off the streets, and rightly so, but she now realised that being locked up is only one aspect of their punishment. Again, she had to remind herself she was only here to do a job, and no matter how people viewed that or whatever she thought didn’t matter.
It seemed strange sitting in a staff room among experienced tutors. It felt like she was just playing at being a teacher and one day they’d all see right through her and tell her she’d better to go back to being a secretary. Stick to what she’s good at. It didn’t help when every time she looked up, Cathy was scowling at her from over the top of her glasses. It made her feel uncomfortable and she wondered what thoughts were going through her head. She also wondered how long it would be before she considered herself as qualified for this job as she did the others. Beneath all this angst was the realisation that, first, she would have to believe in herself and, hopefully, the rest would follow.
Word went up that the inmates were on their way. There was the usual scuffle for bags and papers and then away to the classrooms. The lads dribbled in a few at a time and took their seats. She was about to start the lesson when another student walked into the room and took a seat by the window. It was Michael. He caught her eye and turned to the window to avoid her gaze. Kate handed out the folders and asked them to be getting on with their work before checking why Michael was in her class.
Pulling out a chair from beneath the desk, she sat down next to him. ‘I’ll be careful how I choose my words today.’
‘What? Oh . . . yesterday.’ He looked away and shifted around in his seat. ‘I’ve joined up for your class. I want to learn to read and write better.’
She looked at his hands and noticed he was trembling. ‘Good . . . well, we’d better find out what you need to learn. Usually, people aren’t too sure so I’d like you to do as much of this as you can.’ Kate handed him a literacy test and went through it with him. ‘Don’t worry if you can’t do all of it.’
He took the paper and then turned to her with
a cheeky grin. ‘Okay, I’ll give it a go.’
‘Good.’ He had a pleasant smile with just a hint of shyness in his eyes which Kate thought quite charming. She left him to it and went around the class helping the others. Everything was going fine until she came to Andy, a young man of mixed race. He grumbled that he couldn’t do the work he’d been set and was obviously frustrated by it. She sat down next to him and began to explain the task but he pushed it to one side and started grumbling about something a ‘screw’ had said to him that morning. Several pairs of eyes bored into her as she tried to reason with him. Michael looked up from his work but when she caught his eye he quickly put his head down and carried on with his test.
‘Some of these screws think they can treat us like shit just because we’re in here. We’re not scum, you know. They get a kick out of trying to wind us up.’
Andy ranted on vociferously and Kate feared he would alert the prison officers in the corridor. ‘Well, why not try and forget it. It won’t do any good getting all worked up about it.’
‘This is the worst prison I’ve been in. The food’s crap and it’s always cold by the time it’s dished up. It isn’t fit for pigs when you get it.’
It was obvious there was no reasoning with him. ‘Okay, you just sit there and have a good moan. I don’t suppose you’re in the mood for work today, anyway.’
As she walked away, she wondered if she was right in taking that action,—just allowing him to sit there and sulk. What if the others followed suit? Yet it was difficult to think of an alternative. Looking around the class, no one seemed to have stopped work or indeed to be taking notice anymore. Perhaps it had been the right thing simply to let him be.
She went back to Michael, who appeared to have finished the test but was just taking a breather. She picked up his paper and quickly read through the work he had done so far. ‘Mmm . . . from this, it seems your main problems are punctuation and spelling.’