by Karen Woods
Mark stood at the bar and smiled over at the brassy barmaid. She was a right dirty hussy and had no morals. She had big tits and bright red lipstick plastered all over her lips. Once she clocked Mark she pulled her top down lower and made sure he got an eyeful of her perky breasts. This guy was on a promise tonight and without even saying a word to her, he knew she was game. A right dirty cow she was; anytime, anywhere, she was there gagging for it. Mark waited for his pint then turned his body and leaned against the bar. There was some serious money going into the pot on the card table tonight and he could see by the players’ eyes this shit just got real. His eyes were wide open, eager to see who came out on top. The game was drawing him in, his eyes fixated on every card dealt. Patting the cash inside his jacket pocket he felt an adrenaline rush throughout his body. His palms were hot and sweaty and his heart was racing. What the hell was he doing, had he not learned from his mistakes? Mark swallowed hard and slurped a mouthful of his cold beer. Once a gambler, always a gambler he supposed. It was too late, there was no going back. His addiction took over. “Deal us in lads on the next round,” he chuckled. Mark rubbed his two flat palms together and pulled up a chair. It was going to be a long night. A very long night indeed.
*
Rachel kissed her mother goodbye and headed home. Agnes stood at the front door and watched her until she got to the end of the street before she went back inside. She always did this. No matter who came to her house she always walked them down the garden path. Rachel was aware that her stalker could be watching her. She would take no shortcuts tonight, she was staying where people could see her. With every step she took, her heart started pounding a little bit more inside her ribcage. If any fucker tried grabbing her, she had her front door key lodged in between her knuckles ready to gouge their eyes out. She was alert and aware of her surroundings. Rachel finally reached her garden path and it was fair to say she was relieved. A woman wasn’t safe at the best of times in this area so especially not at night. She knew how easily she could have been attacked from behind. There were always stories in the news about women being attacked, there were some sick twisted bastards out there who would think nothing of killing another human being, slitting their victim’s throats, raping and abusing them before they ended their lives.
Sliding the key into the front door she turned her head quickly, eyes wide open. There was heavy breathing, rustling. “What the fuck do you want!” she screamed as she nearly jumped out of her skin.
“I’ve come back. I just needed to get away while all that shit was going on. I know I sold you out but my arse was flapping. You’re alright, Davo would have left you alone and given me a right good hiding.”
Rachel punched her clenched fist into Gary’s chest, not just once, she pummelled it like her life depended on it. She was knocking ten bags of shit out of him. “Rachel, for fuck’s sake. I’m back now,” he protested, “come on, give me a break will you!”
What kind of fool did he think she was? Did he really think he could have her over and she would just let it go? Not a fucking chance! This woman was livid and she was looking around the front garden now for a missile to launch at his big, daft, ugly head. “Get my son’s money back, you lowlife thieving twat. I knew you were low Gary but never in a million years did I think you would nick from me. How low can you go? You disgust me, you make my skin crawl you worthless wanker.”
Gary was backed into a corner and his eyes were wide open. He stuttered as he held his hands over his head trying to protect himself. “What fucking money, I haven’t touched any.”
Rachel growled and booted him right in his leg. “You lying, dirty cunt. I know it’s you who’s had it away. Don’t even try to deny it.”
Gary made sure he got her in a death grip and held her hands tightly behind her back. “Just shut the fuck up for a minute and listen up, yeah.” Rachel spat in his eye and she was nearly free. “I’ve not touched a penny of any money. Are you right in the head? Come on Rach. I love you and to think you would have me down as something like this knocks me sick.”
Gary let go of her hands, she was still snapping. “Well, if you didn’t take it where the fuck did it go? Did the fucking money fairies nick it?”
Gary held a blank expression and shrugged his shoulders. “Just let me come in and we can sort this out. Fuck me, I’m a lot of things but don’t ever put my name down for robbing from you.”
Rachel pushed him away with her hands deep into his chest. She booted him again in his shin. “Go fuck yourself, over my dead body are you getting into this house. Go and get the money back and then we can talk, otherwise piss off and crawl back under the rock you just came from.”
Gary hung his head as he marched from the garden. He was watching his back too, there was no way he trusted this lunatic. She was like that Rachel, she was a sniper. The minute his back was turned she would lamp him one, swing a killer blow. “I’ll let everybody know about you as well, Gary. Mark my words, your name will be shit around here. Nobody likes a shady cunt, a lowlife robbing bastard. Go on, piss off and don’t come back.” Rachel was stood at her garden gate, her hands gripping it tightly. Her shrieking tones could be heard by all the neighbours. You could see them peering out of the windows. Everybody loved to watch a bit of drama on the street and Rachel was giving them value for money. Gary was gone now and she hung over the garden gate gagging for breath. He was such a lying hard-faced fucker, did he really think she’d come over on the banana boat or what? He’d had the money alright. There were no two ways about it. What now though? She was fucked. How on earth was she ever going to get her son’s money back? She was up shit creek without a paddle. Something had to give, she had to get a break somewhere, surely? She turned slowly. This woman had been dragged through the mill, her heart was low and she couldn’t take anymore. Every time she took a step forward something always dragged her back down. Sad really, because she was trying to change, to right all the wrongs she’d done over the years. It was such a hard thing to do though. Everything was going tits up. Rachel opened the front door and once she got inside she stood looking around the hallway with dismay. This was it, her life in a nutshell. No man to love her anymore and her boy locked away in prison. As if from nowhere her eyes flooded with tears and she fell to the floor sobbing her heart out. “When’s it going to stop, ay, when is all this shit going to end! I can’t take it anymore. I just want it to stop!”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The doors were finally opened on the landing and the inmates were eager to get out and go for their showers. Shouting and banter was exchanged, this was prison life. Mikey emerged from his pad with a white towel under his arm and some shampoo and soap in his hand. Potter was close behind him as always. Everyone knew the script for getting a wash in the morning and inmates had a pecking order to follow. The prisoners headed down to the shower cubicles and spirits seemed high. Mikey headlocked Potter and was dragging him about the landing playfully. “Come on, you can wash my sack for me,” Mikey joked.
The other criminals were laughing and joined in the friendly banter. “Potter can be the landing wood washer. He can do a sack and crack washing service.” The youth at the side of them chuckled. Mikey howled laughing and let go of Potter who was struggling to find his feet. Once he was steady he pointed his finger over at the men. “You can piss off you lot can. I’m no dirt-box merchant. Any of you come near me and God help me because I’ll stick a blade right in you.”
Whoa, where’s all this coming from? Who had died and made him captain of the ship? Potter was bouncing now as he continued to walk along. He was taking his role as Mikey’s wingman seriously. I suppose he was learning the ropes as he went along but hats off to the guy, he was starting to look the part. Potter had some good news to share. His family were moving back to where they used to live in Cheshire. The family business had taken off and their money worries were over. There was even a job waiting for him when he got home. He’d already decided to go straight, or at least try. Mikey hung his
towel around his neck as he walked into the showers. There were cocks and balls all over the show. Nobody was arsed about showing their wedding tackle off. It was funny how each inmate clocked each other’s nobs too, they would never look at it directly. No, it was always a sneaky peek. Mikey stripped off and this inmate was packing, his dick was huge.
Potter swallowed hard as he got an eyeful of it. “Fuck off away from me Mikey. You make my pecker look like a slug.”
There it was now, everyone’s eyes were on his privates. Honest to God, the prisoners walked over to where he was stood and got a good butcher’s at it, no hiding, no shame. It was official. Mikey had some meat on him, he was hung like a donkey. The showers were cold and you could hear the perishing moans from the men as they washed their bodies inside the cubicles. Singing, whistling, this was a happy place this morning.
*
Mark watched the lads coming back from the showers. He caught Mikey’s eye and he was trying to grab his attention. His neck stretched and he coughed to clear his throat. “Oi, Milne, can I have a quick word with you?”
Mikey shot his eyes across the wing and changed direction towards him. Once he got there he stood tall with his hands held behind his back. “What’s up boss?” This lad was so fucking cocky and it was no wonder he got people’s backs up. Just the look in his eye was enough for somebody to want to punch his lights out.
Mark checked around him and made sure he took the inmate to a secure place where no CCTV could see them. “Here, get a grip of this. Like I said, it’s the last one.”
Mikey took the parcel, looked the screw straight in the eye and smirked. “You’ll do as I fucking say. You’re in it now.”
Mark clenched his fists into two tiny balls at the side of his legs, his knuckles turning white. He had to come back with something, there was no way he could have this runt calling the shots. His voice was firm and he meant every word he said. His ears pinned back and his nostrils flared. “You daft cunt, do you really think you can win against me? You’re forgetting where you are lad. I run the wing not fucking you.”
Mikey clicked his tongue inside his mouth and rubbed the end of his nose with a flat palm. “You don’t scare me. You’re a bent screw. All it takes is one word from me and your number’s up.”
Mark ran at him and slammed him up against the wall with his hand around his neck. His warm breath in his face, spit flying all over. “Go on, you just test me. You’ll see what I’m all about, go on I dare you.” Mark went nose to nose with him and whispered. “You’ve heard about prisoners stringing themselves up haven’t you? Lads who nobody could believe had taken their own lives; the question you need to ask yourself is - did they take their own life or was it me who ended it for them?”
Mikey wasn’t flinching, he just stared right back at the screw and smirked. What was up with him, why didn’t he just walk away and let sleeping dogs lie? He had to reply, show no fear. “You see that scar on your cheek, pal. Word has it that it was an inmate who did that to you. It just goes to show that you never know where a blade will come from. We both have shit we can pull out of the bag don’t we? Think about it, let me see,” he rolled his eyes and licked the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, a junkie will slice you up for a few bags of brown. No questions asked, job done.”
Mark was pissing in the wind here and he knew something had to give. There was no way he could continue like this, he was making himself ill. But he needed money again. The card game he played had taken all the cash to pay his bills and he was back to square one. Mikey stuck his chest out and pushed Mark out of the way. “Any chance you can get that message to my old man?”
Mark snarled. “Fuck off Milne, just get out of my sight before I do you some damage.”
Mikey may have won the fight today but the war was far from over. He’d got the screw’s back up and he knew he wasn’t safe anymore. This cunt could stitch him up, plant stuff in his pad, get him shipped out. He had to tread carefully now, watch every move he made.
*
Brendan Mellor sat in his new pad rolling a cigarette. Blowing a thick cloud of grey smoke from his mouth, he sat in deep thought. His face was still badly bruised and you could see he’d taken a right beating. The prison had moved him to a new wing and were about to ship him out to a new jail, he was just waiting to be moved. His street cred in the jail had gone now and if he went back to the wing they would all be waiting for him to fight back, put up a challenge. Keys jangled outside his door, he was alert, eager to see what they wanted. The door opened and Smithy stood smiling at him. “Here you go, a bit of company for you.” Brendan lifted his eyes and his jaw dropped. He knew Davo from the out and he was speechless. This man looked hard as fuck, muscles pumped, thick set neck, he wasn’t someone to be messed with.
“Alright,” he said to Brendan.
“Yeah, cool bro.” Davo gave a sour look over at him and Brendan could have punched himself. Where the fuck had the word ‘bro’ come from? It was just a habit and how he spoke on the street. What a complete tosser he felt now. His cheeks were bright red and he dipped his head low, ashamed of the choice of word he’d used. Smithy stood at the door and watched Davo throw his bags to the side of the room. He jumped onto his bed and looped his arms behind his head. “Sorted this boss, cheers for getting me away from that wing, it was a fucking nightmare full of raging bagheads and riff-raff.”
Smithy chuckled. He knew the wing where this inmate had come from and he was right, it was a shithole with the dregs of society serving time on it; the down-and-outs, the men who had lost all respect for themselves, offenders who wouldn’t last two minutes on the outside. For some of the prisoners this place was their second home. Smithy left the room and locked the door behind him. This was going to be good, how was Brendan going to handle this? The prisoner sat on the edge of his bed biting his fingernails hard.
Davo turned his head over towards him and gave him the once-over. “Who’s done you in then? Fuck me, you’ve took a good arse-kicking haven’t you?”
Brendan was relieved that this man had even given him the time of the day. He sucked in a large mouthful of air and answered him. “Just some twat who’ll get what’s coming to him. He got me when I was unaware, stole a few blows on me.”
Davo rolled over on his side and wanted to hear more. “What and you’ve not come back at him with anything, stab the fucker up, don’t just take it on the chin. I swear, I would fuck the cunt right up.”
Brendan was thinking aloud and he was getting above his station again. He was chatting shit trying to make himself look like the big man. “Don’t you worry, Milne is getting it. As soon as I see my chance I’ll twist the shady fucker up. We were mates you know.” Brendan’s eyes were wide open and he was twisting his fingers rapidly. “He sold me out. Honest, we were a team until we landed in this shithole. And then he went all snidey. Mikey’s changed, he thinks he’s untouchable.”
Davo digested what his new mate had just told him and licked his lips slowly. “What’s the geezer’s name again?”
Brendan sighed and shook his head, still trying to get his head around why his brother-in-arms had fucked him over, “Mikey Milne” he said.
Davo sprang from his bed, his eyes were dancing with madness, the vein pumping rapidly at the side of his neck. “Oh, so this is where the cheeky cunt landed. What wing is he on?”
Brendan was puzzled and answered him with caution. “He’s on B-Wing. He thinks he’s the fucking daddy over there because he took the main man down.”
Davo smirked and kicked his trainers from his feet. “I need you to sort a few things out with me pal. Let’s see Milne fall flat on his arse. He’ll shit a brick when he sees me.”
Brendan was such a gawp and he was none the wiser as to what was going down here. All he knew at this moment was that he was going to get his mate done in. Who was this guy and why did he want Mikey? Brendan filled his pad mate in about how things were running on the opposite wing and by the end of their chat, Davo knew the ins and
outs of a cat’s arsehole. Brendan was a right blabbermouth, a grass. He sold Mikey down the river and he was more than ready to make sure he got what was coming to him.
When he had finished Brendan tickled the end of his chin and held his hand out towards Davo. “Don’t you worry. Anything you want to know about that rat I will find out. What’s he done to you anyway, are you going to fill me in?”
Davo looked over at the window at the skyline and spoke slowly. “He knows what he owes me and unless he sorts it, he will be leaving here in a body bag. He can run but he can’t hide.”