Unsuitable

by Samantha Towle

  Then, luck came on my side, and I got a part-time job, stacking shelves at the local supermarket. A week later, I got a part-time waitressing job. The waitressing was in the evenings, and I hated leaving Jesse, but Cece would look after him while I was working.

  I did those jobs for six months, all the while still applying for full-time work. Finally, I landed a job in this upscale jewelry store. I could hardly believe I’d gotten the job. I mean, the interview had gone well, but I was uneducated, and the place was nice. For some reason, the manager had seen something in me and given me the job.

  It was the best…and worst thing that ever happened to me.

  The best part was the money. I was being paid more than both of my part-time jobs combined. I was learning a trade in the jewelry business, and it meant I could be home every night for Jesse.

  Little did I know, four years later, I’d be framed for stealing hundreds of thousands of pounds’ worth of jewelry from the store and that I would go to prison for it.

  That I would lose everything.

  Lose Jesse.

  My kid. My family.

  I want him back.

  I will get him back.

  Eighteen months without seeing or speaking to him, it’s killed me.

  Our communication was only via letters. Well, I say communication, but it wasn’t exactly that. I wrote to him. He never once wrote back.

  He’s angry.

  Because I wouldn’t let him come visit me while I was in there.

  He thought I’d abandoned him.

  Truth was, I couldn’t bear the thought of him seeing me in there. And I didn’t want him coming to this place.

  I wouldn’t let anyone visit me. Not even Cece.

  So, I haven’t seen or spoken to anyone I love in eighteen months.

  My heart pounding, I continue to follow Officer Roman. I wait while she unlocks the gate, and then she takes me through, heading toward the reception area.

  I haven’t seen this part of the prison since I arrived here.

  I look out through the window. My heart pounds with equal measures of nerves and excitement.

  I’m getting out of here. I’m getting my life back.

  The life that was stolen from me.

  Officer Kendall hands me a plastic carrier bag. “The things you came in with,” she tells me.

  Opening the bag, I look inside.

  My old phone that no longer works, a used lip gloss, my purse. I pick my purse out and open it. Inside is a twenty pound note.

  I have twenty pounds to my name.

  Sigh.

  I spy my old house keys in the bottom of the carrier bag. I touch my fingers to them. The keys to my old home. The home I no longer have.

  Tears prick my eyes. I blink them back.

  “You okay, Daisy?” Officer Roman asks me.

  Swallowing past my emotions, I nod my head and drop my purse back into the carrier bag.

  “You know where you’re going from here?” she asks me.

  “Yep.” I look at her. “I go straight to London Probation Service to see my probation officer…” I stall, trying to recall his name.

  “Toby Willis,” she fills in for me. “Toby will determine the terms of your release and give you details of the hostel where you’ll be staying.”

  “You mean, I’m not staying at the Ritz?”

  I give her a look of mock-horror, and she laughs.

  “Come on, comedian, let’s get you out of here.”

  The officer inside the reception room buzzes us through. I follow behind Officer Roman as she leads me to the door that will take me out of here.

  I watch, my heart hammering in my chest, as the final door opens.

  I’m free.

  I take in a deep breath. A lungful of free air.

  I know it sounds stupid, but the air just feels better out here. Cleaner, fresher. Better than the air I was breathing behind those high walls that kept me prisoner for so long.

  I take my first step toward freedom.

  “I don’t want to see you in here ever again.” Officer Roman’s voice comes from behind me.

  I glance back at her. “You won’t ever see me again; that’s a promise.”

  A smile works its way onto her hard mouth. “Good. And good luck, Daisy. I hope everything works out for you.”

  Yeah, me, too.

  I give her a nod and then face forward. Another deep breath, and I step out onto the street.

  The door closes behind me with a clunk. I hear the lock turn, shutting me out.

  For a moment, I panic.

  I literally don’t know what to do. I’ve spent so long being told what to do that I feel like I don’t know my own thoughts in this moment.

  I look up and down the street. People are milling around.

  A figure across the street catches my eye, and I can’t help the smile that breaks out on my face.

  Cece.

  “Ce?” I say, suddenly choked with emotion at the sight of her.

  “Mayday!” She smiles big.

  Hearing her call me by the nickname that Jesse gave me when he was little fills me with an ache so deep that I fear it’ll never leave.

  Cece pushes off the car she was leaning against and comes bounding toward me. Her dark brown waves, now streaked with purple, are dancing around her face, her big brown eyes wide with happiness.

  The wind is knocked out of me as Cece collides with me, wrapping her arms tight around me, hugging me hard.

  She smells like home.

  God, I’ve missed her.

  “I missed you,” she whispers.

  I hear the emotion in her voice. It makes my chest constrict and my eyes sting.

  Dropping the carrier bag to the ground, I hug her back. “I missed you, too, Ce.” I swallow back tears. “What are you doing here?”

  “Nice to see you, too.” She chuckles.

  “I mean”—I lean back to look into her face—“I thought you’d be at work.”

  “Monday’s my day off now. But, even if it weren’t, did you really think I wouldn’t be here, waiting for you?” She smiles warmly. “It’s been too long. I hate that you wouldn’t let me come visit you.” A frown puckers her brow.

  I exhale a breath. “I know, but it was better that way, Ce. I didn’t want you seeing me while I was in that place.”

  And I couldn’t spend my time counting down the days to her visits. I needed to just focus on counting down the days to my release.

  “And you knew I didn’t agree. It didn’t matter to me—”

  “I know,” I cut her off. My voice comes out sharp, so I soften it. “But I needed it to be that way.”

  She stares at me for a long moment. “Yeah, well, you leave again, and I’m coming with. You got me?”

  I give her a tight smile. “I got you. But I’m not going anywhere.”

  And I mean that. I’m never falling prey to anyone ever again.

  She smiles. “You look good,” she tells me. “You sure you’ve been in prison and not just at a fitness camp?” She gives a comical tilt of her head.

  “Funny.” I give her a light jab to the shoulder. “I used the gym every day. Not much else to do in there.” Well, apart from reading, watching TV, and doing the cleaning job I had.

  “Well, you totally have the whole Lara Croft thing going on now.” She reaches over my shoulder, giving my ponytail a tug.

  “I love the purple.” I gesture to her hair.

  “It was blue last week.” She grins.

  Cece is always changing her hair color. It comes with the territory. She’s a hairdresser—or I should say, hairstylist. She works at this really cool upscale salon in London.

  Releasing her hands from my arms, she grabs my hand. “Come, let’s get you out of here.”

  I scoop my carrier bag up from the ground and let her lead me across the road, toward her car.

  I’ve just buckled up in the passenger seat when she turns to me, biting her lip, with a nervous look in her eyes
.

  “I did something…that I hope you’ll be cool with.”

  “Depends. The last surprise someone gave me landed me in prison.” I give her a deadpan look.

  Her lips lift into a half-smile. “How long are you going to play that card?”

  “Forever. I think I’ve earned it.”

  “True.” She nods.

  “So, this thing?”

  “I got us a place.”

  My eyes widen in surprise. “You moved out of your mum and dad’s?”

  “It was time. And you need somewhere to live. My gran left me a good chunk of money when she died, so I put it to good use and invested it in an apartment.”

  Shame covers me. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for the funeral.”

  She waves me off. “I know you would have been there if you could. Anyway, I got us this apartment in Sutton. It’s nice. Three bedrooms. Not far from where Jesse is living, so you can be close to him.”

  “Three bedrooms?” I stare at her.

  “Yeah, a bedroom for you, one for me, and one for Jesse when he comes back home.”

  A lump forms in my throat.

  I can’t believe what she’s done for me.

  She got this apartment to help me. She knows this is what I need to get Jesse back. It’s not like I can apply for custody of Jesse without a stable home. I was expecting to be in a hostel to start with until I got on my feet, and it would have taken me ages to sort out a place.

  “Have you…” I bite my lip. “Have you seen Jesse recently?”

  She exhales, and I know the answer. “I went to see him yesterday.”

  Jesse has been living in a group home since I was put in prison.

  I know what those places are like. I’ve been worried sick about him every moment I’ve been away from him, praying to God to keep him safe until I could get back to him.

  Cece promised to check in on him regularly, and she’s kept me updated on his progress.

  “How is he?”

  “He’s doing okay.”

  “Did you…” I swallow past the ache. I know full well the answer to my question, yet I have to ask it anyway. “He knew I was getting out today?”

  “Yeah.” Her voice is quieter now. “He’s just confused at the moment, Mayday. But he’ll come around. He loves you.”

  My eyes lower. “I let him down.”

  “No, you didn’t.” The force in her tone brings my stare to her. “You met and trusted a guy you thought was nice, but he turned out to be the biggest fucker in the history of all fuckers. It was not your fault. I swear, if I ever get my hands on that bastard, I’m gonna rip his balls clear off, douse them in petrol, set them on fire, and make him watch them burn.”

  “That’s quite the visual.”

  “Thank you. I do paint a good picture.” She grins at me. “And I’ll feel awesome after I sort out that stain on society.”

  “I just want to forget he ever existed. My sole focus is on getting Jesse back.”

  She reaches over and takes my hand in hers, squeezing. “You’re gonna get him back. I have no doubt. All the good stuff starts right now.”

  The tears that I was holding back win the battle, and one escapes.

  “Don’t you bloody cry, Daisy May, or you’ll have me crying, and I’m not wearing waterproof mascara. So, what do you say about the apartment?”

  I brush the tear away with the back of my hand. “I say it’s awesome, but—”

  “No buts, Mayday. Just say yes, you’re moving in with me.”

  I give her a look for cutting me off. “The but is, I’ll have to check with my probation officer to make sure it’s okay. They’ve already arranged for me to stay in a hostel.”

  “Uh-uh. No way is my girl staying in some skanky hostel for ex-convicts—no offense.” Her face blanches when she realizes what she just said. “Because you’re not an ex-con, Daisy. Well, technically, you are, but you aren’t, and—”

  “Ce, it’s fine.” I laugh. “I am an ex-con. It’s just the way it is.”

  Daisy Smith, ex-con.

  That brand will stay with me until the day I die.

  My life is completely different now to how it was before I went inside. There’s nothing I can do about that. But I can do something about my future.

  I can make sure that I never let myself be fooled by a man again.

  And I can damn well make sure that I build a better life for Jesse and me.

  Better than what we had before.

  I’m not smart. I don’t have a degree. But I’m a hard worker.

  All I need is for someone to take a chance on me and give me the opportunity to give Jesse everything he should have had…everything he deserves.

  The kid was dealt a shit hand. At least I had our mum around when I was growing up—not that she was much use even then—but her drug habit worsened after Jesse was born. I think our dad dying was the catalyst.

  Our dad was barely around as it was. An addict himself, he was out on one of his benders and injected himself with some bad heroin—not that there’s such a thing as good heroin. One minute, he was there, and the next, he was gone. And so was she. She was there physically—well, not all the time—but she checked out mentally. So, when she left, it wasn’t exactly a hardship.

  I had Jesse, and that was all I cared about.

  “I have to go check in with my probation officer now,” I tell Cece. “So, I’ll ask him about moving in with you and see what he says.”

  “Cool. We’ll go see him and tell him that you’re coming home with me today.” She gives me a petulant smile.

  I shake my head, laughing. When Cece has something set in her head, there’s no dissuading her. It’s one of the many things I love about her. That, and her fierce loyalty.

  She turns on the engine, and the radio in her car comes on. Drake’s “Hold On, We’re Going Home” bleeds out of the car speakers.

  I let out a humorless laugh and meet Cece’s eyes. “You have this playing on purpose?”

  A small smile plays on her lips. “Maybe.”

  I let out another laugh. But I don’t really feel it. Because I’m not going home. Not really. Home is where Jesse is, and I can’t be with him because I made a mistake. I trusted the wrong person, and it cost me my brother and eighteen months of my life.

  I rest my head back against the seat and stare out the passenger window, letting out a sigh.

  “Hey…you okay?” Cece’s voice is soft.

  I turn my head to look at her. “Yeah”—I smile—“I’m good. And thanks for…everything. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “You’ll never have to find out.”

  Two

  Sitting in the empty waiting room on the first floor of the probation service office, waiting to see my assigned probation officer, Toby Willis, I stare out the window and look at the busy London area.

  Everything looks the same but different.

  Or maybe it’s just me that’s different.

  Cece wanted to come in with me, but I told her to go grab a coffee instead of being stuck in the waiting room until I was done. I told her that I’d meet her back at the car in an hour.

  That was half an hour ago, and I still haven’t been called in to see him.

  As I think it, a guy appears in the open doorway. Looks to be in his mid-thirties. Shaved hair—like literally not a hair is to be found on his head—and he’s wearing a black pinstriped suit that looks like it’s seen better days.

  “Daisy Smith? I’m Toby Willis. Do you want to come through?”

  I get to my feet and follow him down the corridor and into his office. I take the seat at his desk as he shuts the door behind us.

  He comes around the desk and takes his seat. “Sorry I was late for our appointment. I got stuck in a meeting I couldn’t get out of.”

  “It’s fine.” I smile. “I’m used to waiting around, and it’s not like I have anyplace to be.”

  He lifts his
eyes to mine. They’re blue and kind-looking. Actually, now that I think about it, his whole face looks kind. In stark contrast with his harsh-looking bald head.

  He smiles. “Well, let’s hope we can change that for you.” He turns to his computer and taps some keys. Then, he reaches over and grabs a file.

  I see my name written on the top.

  He opens the file, looking through some of the papers. “So”—he looks up at me—“I won’t keep you here long. Really, all we need to do is have you look over the terms of your release and have you sign the license that signals your release. Then, we’ll discuss housing options and employment possibilities.”

  “Can I start with the housing options?” I ask.

  Leaning back in his chair, he gives me a nod, giving me the go-ahead.

  “I know I’m supposed to move into a hostel. But my best friend has a three-bedroom apartment in Sutton, South London, and she’s asked me to live with her. If that’s okay with you.”

  “Your friend, she doesn’t have a criminal record?”

  “God, no.” I laugh quickly. “She’s a hairstylist. Never been in trouble in her life.”

  But then again, neither had I until I was stitched up for theft.

  I hold my tongue on that one. No point in protesting my innocence anymore. That ship sailed a long time ago.

  “Then, I don’t see a problem with it. So long as I have the address and your friend’s details, then it’s fine.”

  “Thank you.” I breathe a sigh of relief. I didn’t want to say it to Cece, but the thought of living in a hostel…it felt like I would be going back into a form of prison. “Do you want the address now? I have it. Cece wrote it down for me.”

  “Sure.”

  From my jeans pocket, I get the piece of paper with my new address on it and hand it over. He takes it from me and puts it inside my file.

  “Here are the terms of your release. You have to adhere to these rules for the remainder of your sentence.” He hands over the sheet of paper. “Read them carefully, and then sign at the bottom. Know that you don’t have to sign, but the terms will still be legally binding.”

  “Okay.” I give him a weak smile.

  I read over the terms. They say what I expected them to…that if I am found breaking the law in any way, then I’ll be back inside to serve out the remainder of my sentence.