Bang Up: Prison walls don't just keep criminals in, the keep the outside world at bay

by Karen Woods

  Brendan coughed to clear his throat. The teacher was old and her values in life were different than his. She wasn’t right to work in a place like this, she was more like a private tutor. “It was just a one-on-one, Miss. It happens every day on the outside. If someone chats shit, you just one-bomb them and that’s the end of it.”

  Mrs Edwards placed a single hand on her hip and took pride in putting this inmate in his place. “We’re not on the outside though are we? And that behaviour is not accepted in life in general. What right does another human being have to strike another one just like that, for nothing? He’s a menace and deserves everything that’s coming to him.” Brendan was bright red and knew he was fighting a losing battle with this woman. She had no idea of real life, how things were sorted out when two people had a gripe with each other. It was street law, it always had been. “Brendan, can you leave now and go back to your wing. As you can see I’m quite shook up with the whole experience. They don’t pay me enough to go through this every day. I just want to be left alone.”

  The screw came into the room and clocked that the teacher was having a hard time. He whistled over at Brendan. “Oi, ginger balls, time to leave. Get back to your wing before you end up down the block too.”

  Brendan clenched his fist into tiny balls at the side of his legs. He walked a few steps forward and met the eyes of the security guard. Within seconds he’d gone from a shaking wreck to a young man who was willing to voice his opinion. What was the worst that could happen anyway? “You all took liberties with Mikey. How many of you did it take to bring him down, piss take if you ask me?”

  The screw jumped down the back of his throat and went nose to nose with him. “Nobody is asking you though are they? Do yourself a favour, ginger nut, and walk on. Keep back-chatting to me and you’ll end up like your pal.”

  Brendan marched out of the classroom and Mrs Edwards was stood at the door watching him walk down the corridor. “These lads have no respect, none whatsoever. This job used to be enjoyable but how can you teach people basic literacy skills when they act like this?” The old prisoner officer knew exactly what she meant. He’d been in the job for over twenty years and he was nearing retirement age. When he’d first started out as prison officer, the inmates had respect for the rules in the jail, but not now, not any more. The young offenders were hardcore and would do anything to save face, even kill.

  *

  Mikey sat on the bed. This room was basic. The block was where inmates who couldn’t adhere to the rules spent their time. No luxuries, no PlayStation, basic canteen and pure bang-up. His heart was banging like a beating drum in his ears and he was still raging inside. He knew how the jail worked and plonked down on his bed with his arms looped behind his head. He would be left alone now for hours. “Thinking time” the screws called it, time for him to calm down and realise what he was there for. He knew the ropes here and if these cunts thought he was licking arse just because he was down the block, they had another thing coming. The guy got slammed, nobody made fun of him about his reading skills, fucking nobody. Mikey jerked his head up slightly and spat on the door facing him. He watched the salvia drip down the door eagerly. They would never break him, never make him a soft arse who was scared of prison life.

  *

  Mark and Smithy stood on B-wing doing their rounds. There was noise on the wing but it was normal for this time of the night. Inmates were shouting out of their windows to each other, prisoners booting at their doors, abuse being shouted from one cell to another. It was the same shit, just a different night. Mark sat down in his office and his eyes focused on the computer screen. The new inmates had landed on his wing now and he was reading up on them. He liked to know what he was working with, get inside their heads. Each inmate had a personal officer and he’d been given Mikey and Potter to look after. Mark sniggered over at Smithy as he read over Mikey’s personal file. “Have you read the script on this one? I’ve got my work cut out, I can tell you. This is that cocky cunt we met in reception. I knew he was trouble, fucking knew it from the moment I set eyes on him.”

  Smithy walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder as he started to read the inmate’s previous criminal record. He sniggered and blew a laboured breath. “Good luck with that one, lad. Look at all the violence he’s got on his track record, the lad’s a nutter. Why have they sent him here? He should have been starred up and sent to the hairy arse jails. The men would have sorted him out.” Smithy was talking about Strangeways in Manchester. Whenever they got a lad who was too much for them to handle, they always shipped them there. It was a man’s prison and nothing like this place. Everybody knew about Strangeways and each inmate shivered at the thought of going there. There were a few older inmates at Lancaster Farms but they were mostly finishing off long sentences. This was a Cat C jail, it was more relaxed than other jails around the country.

  Mark nodded and turned to face Smithy. “Why the hell do they give me all the fucked up ones? For once, I’d love an inmate who wanted to change, you know, the kind of lad who had actually made just one daft mistake.”

  Smithy agreed, he knew it was a big ask. Most of these lads were back and forth from the jail, they never learned. “Mikey’s down the block already. He kicked off in education and put some prisoner on his arse. Mrs Edwards’ report said it was a lethal blow too. A knockout one. The kid’s on the hospital wing in a bad way.”

  Mark kept his eyes on the screen and sighed. “I’ll go down to the block later and have a chat with him. Not like it’s going to make much difference but I’ll have to show willing won’t I?”

  Smithy sat at his desk and flicked through his emails too. He raised his head and studied Mark for a lot longer than he needed to. He was quiet, something was troubling him. “So, how’s things with the missus? Has she stopped moaning yet?”

  Mark went bright red. He hated talking about his home life and very rarely told anyone about his problems. Smithy was his pal though and they’d been friends for a long time. He had to get it off his chest, it was dong his head in now. He sat back in his chair and yawned. “It’s shite, Smithy. On my life, all that woman does is moan, moan, moan. Twenty-four hours a fucking day she’s at it! I can’t be arsed with her anymore. Putting a ring on her finger was the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life. From the moment she got out of bed this morning, she’s been on at me. I swear, it’s non-stop. I was going to crack her one. On my life, she just presses my buttons. I’ll be leaving her soon, then she’ll see.”

  Smithy stretched his arm out and patted his shoulder. He was a married man himself and could identify with his pal. “Surely, she’s not that bad, what’s she whining over now anyway? Did you forget to put the bins out again?”

  Mark’s head sank and a wave of sadness came over him. He took a few seconds to answer. “No, I wish it was just that. I’ve fucked up with the mortgage payments again. You know what I’m like, I always borrow a few quid from it and put it back before she knows it’s missing. But, I’m up shit-street now. I went in the bookies didn’t I and blew the fucking lot.”

  Smithy was shocked. He knew his pal liked a bit of a gamble every now and then but he didn’t realise how far he’d got into it. Smithy had a good heart and hated to see anyone with money problems. “I can sort you out until you get on your feet, Mark. Don’t fuck about with your home payments mate. Imagine if you lost it, what then ay?”

  Mark knew he was right and for the last few nights he’d been laid in bed asking himself the same questions. He’d be homeless and living on the street for sure. There was no way his mother would have him back home, no way in this world. And then there was his marriage; that would surely be over, although maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing - every cloud had a silver lining. Deep down though, it would always be just one more bet, one last scratch card, one more spin of the wheel. This man would never learn. He was addicted to gambling, there were no two ways about it. Mark bit hard on his bottom lip and his pride was hurt. He hated admitting he was on his a
rse to anyone. He had no other option than to accept his mate’s offer. He was fucked no matter which way he looked at it. Mark chewed on his bottom lip and kept his eyes to the table. “If you could help me out Smithy, I’d be grateful. I’ve got no one else to ask, otherwise I would. I’ll have it back to you by the end of next month. I’m keeping away from the bookies from now on. It’s a fool’s game.”

  Mark was lying of course. He even believed his own story. His mother had already told him that he wasn’t getting another penny out of her, he’d fleeced her already, took her for every penny she had left. This was something he wasn’t proud of. Once his father Jack died there was quite a bit of money left to Sheila. She’d never been used to money and it scared her. Old people were like that and if she had her way, she would have stuffed it under her mattress. There was no way Sheila was going to spend any of her fortune. The cash was just sitting there in the bank going to waste. She could have gone on holiday, spent time doing things she’d dreamt about but with her husband six foot under, all she ever spoke about was being in the grave next to him. Sheila had basically given up once Jack was gone and every day she just sat in her chair wishing her life away.

  Mark had tried to help, he come up with the idea of finding an investment for her and double her money, he said. Sheila took him at face value and let him have over ten thousand pounds to put into something for her. What a daft sod she was! What planet was she on thinking this half-wit could ever manage money! Mark did look into making an investment for her at first and he even went to see her bank manager with her but that was just a cover for his gambling habit. It was all he could think of; the roulette wheel, the gee-gees and the poker table. He already owed thousands to the local loan sharks and to pay them off seemed his only option. It was a no-win situation. The people he owed money to had told him to pay up or his balls were getting cut off, simple as. And they meant it, too - there was no fucking about with these people. Mark had no other option so he used his mother’s money to pay off his debts. After all, he treasured his balls. But now he was short and had to find Sheila’s cash to invest and there was only one way he could get it back for her. For weeks he sat studying the horses and not once did he ever win a carrot, the plonker. The daft bastard blew every single penny of it, there was hardly anything left bar the odd tenner. He couldn’t pay his old queen back. Sheila could read her son like a book and when the time was right she confronted him about the money he was supposed to have invested for her. She smelt a rat. Mark denied it at first but after hours of tears and arguing he finally admitted to her that he’d lost it all. He’d blown it, every single penny. Sheila collapsed when he told her the truth and she was rushed into hospital with an angina attack. He never told anybody about the money he’d had off his mother, not even his siblings. If they had known he would have been banished from the family circle, never to return. This was his secret and he’d pleaded with his mother never to tell anyone. Even to this day he pledged he would pay her back, but as yet he hadn’t managed to give her back a penny of what he’d wasted and now he was heading into deep shit once again.

  *

  Mark peeped through the glass hatch and clocked Mikey lying on his bed trying to get some shut eye. He was still awake because he was flinching. If he could have his way he would have kicked ten tons of shit out of this smart-arse. He was in the mood to smash someone’s head in right now and if this prick gave him any shit he couldn’t promise that he would hold his temper. Mark had had a shit day and nothing was going right for him. It was just going from bad to worse. Slipping his key into the lock he opened the door and stood at the doorway with his notes stashed under his arm. There was no way he was going inside yet, he stood rustling his paperwork.

  Mikey lifted his head from the pillow and clocked the screw stood there. Nodding his head slowly he rolled onto his side and scratched at his nuts. “What’s up boss?”

  Mark licked his dry, cracked lips and took a deep breath. This was one cocky cunt, who thought he was untouchable. “I’m your personal officer and I’ve come down here to have a chat with you. Procedure it is, nothing more.”

  Mikey rolled onto his back and yawned. He was at it again, he was doing himself no favours. “And, what, you think you’ve got the answer to all my problems do you? Do yourself a favour and fuck off and leave me alone. I’ve had all this head-fuck stuff before and it doesn’t work?”

  Mark hated this inmate with a passion. He had to hold it together though, be professional. His knuckles went white as he gripped his pen tightly and his chest rose at speed. Mark kicked his shiny boot against the bottom of the door slowly. There was silence. Mikey was on one and he was putting the world to rights. In his eyes he was never in the wrong and he was always right. “I mean, do you think I’m some kind of muppet who’s going to let some twat talk to me like that. The prick got what was coming to him and when I see the wanker again, I’m going to waste him properly. He got off lightly if you ask me. I could have done a lot worse.”

  Mark scratched the top of his head and knew this inmate was going to take some hard graft if he was ever to get on board. Mark changed the subject and tried to calm him down. He’d already been on a warning about his work and didn’t need his collar felt again. “I need a quick meeting with you. Just a few basic details to start with, just stuff so I can get to know you better.”

  Mikey chuckled, he was out to cause trouble. You could see it in his eyes. He lay with his hands shoved down the front of his pants. “Listen, fuck off out of my face and go and see some other cunt who will listen to you. Stop trying to be a do-gooder.”

  Mark gripped the paperwork tightly in his hand. He twisted his head behind him and checked nobody was listening and edged closer in the cell. He was on a short fuse and any second now he was going to blow. His expression changed and his teeth gritted tightly together. “Oi, fucking mouth almighty, cut the bullshit. Just let’s tick the boxes and I’ll leave you alone. Do you think I give a flying fuck if you change or not? You’re just another number to me. Just another fucking head case who thinks they can beat the system.” They locked horns and neither of them were budging.

  Mikey sneered over at him. “Nar, sack it. I’m in no mood today. Close the door and fuck off out I’m getting my head down.”

  Mark sprinted over to the bed and gripped Mikey by his throat, he was choking him. Nose to nose they were. “I said, get fucking ready before I lose my rag with you.”

  Mikey was shaken. Never in his life had he met a screw with balls like this. Usually they only give it the big one when they were team-handed but never when they were alone. This was a whole new ball game. Mikey had met his match. Mark backed off and stood at the door again. He was game and if this inmate gave him one bit of shit he couldn’t be held responsible for his actions. Mikey flicked his body up from the bed and admitted defeat. He would have to watch this one, he was dangerous and could stitch him up given the chance. That’s how it worked behind these walls, the officers could plant stuff on inmates and have them charged with it within a blink of an eye, shady bastards they were when their cages were rattled. Mikey bounced towards him. “Yeah, come on then, but if you start chatting shit trying to fill my head with goals and dreams I’m coming straight back here.”

  Mark watched the inmate walk past him and nodded his head slowly. He was confident now and knew he had the upper hand. Mark sat down at the table and joined the inmate. Usually, this kind of meeting took over an hour but he was sure it wouldn’t last longer than thirty minutes. It was just a paper exercise in his eyes and knew he was pissing in the wind if he thought this lad would cooperate with him. Mikey rested his head in his hands and looked around the room, clicking his tongue against his bottom lip. Everywhere in the jail was more or less the same colour; pale yellow, supposedly a calming neutral shade. Mark opened his paperwork and picked up his blue biro. Twisting it around in his fingers he looked Mikey straight in the eyes. “So, tell me about yourself. How have you ended up in the slammer?”

>   Mikey gripped his chin in his hands and stroked a single finger slowly over his stubble. Why did everyone always think they could get inside his head and work him out? He was wise to them now, wary of what they were after. “I just have, haven’t I? There’s no real reason. I just got nicked. Wrong time, wrong place, you know the crack.”

  Mark knew his job was to get this criminal to open up. He’d had hours of training and course after course to make sure he got the results he needed. He reminded himself of the rules and sat back in his seat in a relaxed manner. “Do you think this is your life now? I mean, in and out of jail?”

  “I’m not arsed to tell you the truth. Life is life and I have to do what’s needed to get by. Stuff costs money doesn’t it?”

  Mark scribbled down on his notepad and continued. “You can change, there are people here to help you if you want it?”

  Mikey had heard the same script all his life. His probation officer, school teachers, career officers, they had all tried to change him before. They could take a running jump if they thought he would ever lead a normal boring life. He was who he was and he was happy with that. Mikey was agitated and his patience was running thin. “I don’t know what’s written down on that paper there, pal. I’m just another number to you lot, remember that. I don’t want any sympathy but don’t judge me until you have walked a day in my shoes. Since I’ve been able to talk I’ve had to more or less fend for myself, nobody was there for me. I had to learn the hard way. Do you know how it feels to not know where your next meal is coming from?” Mikey was opening up, what was up with him? Mark was sorry he’d opened his mouth but the lad was right. How could he judge him when he knew nothing about his personal background? Mikey sniffed hard and for a split second his eyes clouded over but he switched in seconds and his guard was back up again. He wanted out of there. “This is a waste of time. Just write on my notes I said ‘get to fuck’. I’m sure they won’t be arsed.”