The women, p.1
The Women, page 1
In memory of Jackie Lee Rainbow.
May you rest in eternal peace.
Contents
BEFORE
PART ONE LAST NIGHT
1: TODAY
2: VISITING TIME
3: AMY
4: NESS
5: MINA
6.
7: LYNETTE
8: TESS
9: STEPH
10: JACK
11: MINA
12: OLLIE
13: THE GOVERNOR
14: IRIS
15.
16: D WING
17: AMY
18: TESS
19: THE GOVERNOR
20: JACK
21: EXERCISE YARD
22: MINA
23: STEPH
24: LYNETTE
25: EVIE
26: STEPH
27: OLLIE
28: EXERCISE YARD
29: NESS
30: MAUREEN
31: MINA
32: EARLE
33: STEPH
34: AMY
35: MINA
36: AMY
37: IRIS
38: THE GOVERNOR
39: EVIE
PART TWO: FOUR WEEKS LATER 40: AMY
41: VISITING TIME
42: MAUREEN
43: AMY
44: IRIS
45: THE GOVERNOR
46: STEPH
47: AMY
48: MINA
49: AMY
50: MINA
51: THE GOVERNOR
52: AMY
53: MINA
54: JACK
55: NESS
56: STEPH
57: AMY
58: OLLIE
59: STEPH
60: AMY
61: STEPH
PART THREE: THREE WEEKS LATER 62: STEPH
63: MINA
64: AMY
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
BEFORE
She could hear the sound of her own running footsteps on the wet earth, but she could also hear his. He was getting closer now. Nearer. She could almost feel him. She knew if he caught her this time, he’d want to keep her. She also knew what he’d do to her, but if she could just get to the road, then maybe, maybe someone would see her. Help her . . . Save her. How many others had there been? She knew there’d been a lot – he’d told her, and she heard them screaming. What she didn’t know was if any of the others had got away . . . Panting now, she glanced around. She didn’t know the woods like he did: at night the whole place looked the same: creeping and twisting shadows moving in between the dark tunnel of trees. She needed to go faster but she was tired. Though she daren’t stop, maybe she could hide? Yes, over there by the tree. She could hide there . . .
She hurried across, a creeping terror following her as the wind and the rain got up, muffling the sound of his footsteps. She crouched and, shaking, she tried to quieten her breathing. Quiet, she just had to be quiet . . . A noise made her turn her head. A branch breaking behind her. She tried to make herself smaller, pushing herself further against the base of the tree. She listened again . . . The silence told her he was there. Still, she had to be still . . . Her eyes darted around in the darkness, and she watched. Just waiting . . . Nothing now, only the sound of the rain hitting the leaves and the branches above her . . . Had he gone? Was it safe to move? . . . But then she screamed as she felt her shoulder being grabbed. A hand slammed over her mouth. She turned her head and stared into his eyes . . . It was over now; she knew that it was over . . .
PART ONE
LAST NIGHT
The burn. He always thought that was the best part of it. That first hit. That moment the coke hit the back of his nostrils. That bitter cutting taste at his throat: it was what he’d been waiting for all week . . . Oh God, yeah, this was good shit.
Sniffing deeply, he held his nose closed, making sure none of the specks of coke dropped out and went to waste.
‘You want me to do it how you always like it, hun?’
Her voice ground into his thoughts, putting an irritating edge to his high. And as he sat on the edge of the bed, legs wide apart, he looked down at her, inwardly disgusted at her dirty fingernails around the shaft of his erect penis.
‘What is it about you, Holly, you can never just stop talking,’ he snapped.
Pouting, Holly stared up at him with doe eyes, then licked her lips suggestively. ‘Just want to please you, baby.’
He bent down to her, his penis starting to droop, and grabbed hold of her thin blonde hair, his gaze darting all over her face. ‘If you want to please me,’ he hissed, ‘then you’ll shut that mouth of yours.’ She was spoiling his buzz and he didn’t want to start to come down already, especially after the week he’d had.
‘Baby, I just—’
‘What did I say?’ Glaring at her, he gripped her hair tighter and forced her mouth over his penis, ignoring the sound of her gagging. Stupid little bitch; he wanted to relax, not have her chewing his ear off . . . Fuck. This was pointless. Now, it felt like she was chafing his foreskin with her teeth. Jesus!
Furious, he pushed her off and stood up, using his foot to barge her out of the way.
‘What did you go and do that for?’ Back against the wall, she rubbed her head, her naked body marked with self-harm scars. ‘That frigging hurt, you bastard.’
Lowering his voice to a menacing growl, he took a step towards her. ‘I’ve had a really hard week and the last thing I need, Holly, is you giving me backchat – any chat, for that matter. So, if you’ve got any sense in that empty head of yours, take that as a warning and keep it zipped.’
She snuffled loudly, tears welling in her eyes.
Ignoring her tears and needing another hit, he walked naked across the room. He leaned over the chopped lines of cocaine, snorting vigorously, chasing the high which had now been ruined.
Moving his neck from side to side to relieve some of the tension, he looked around the shabby, overheated room. A stale odour hung in the air and dirty clothes and shoes were piled up in the corner. Empty burrito wrappers and takeaway cartons, as well as a pack of nappies and a bundle of kids’ clothes were stuffed in the broken cot by the window. The place was a pigsty.
His phone buzzed and he flicked a glance at it, watching it spinning around on the top of the dresser, which was propped up with a pile of magazines. He recognized the number. Fuck. He didn’t want to, but he knew he needed to take this.
Swiping up the phone, he answered, trying not to let paranoia creep over him. ‘Yes, what is it?’ he slurred.
‘It’s Tony. We’ve got a bit of trouble.’ The voice on the other end didn’t sound confident. ‘Sorry.’
Glancing in the mirror as he spoke, he noticed how bloodshot his green eyes were. ‘I hope for your sake, Tony, it’s more than a bit of trouble.’ The cocaine made his tongue feel heavy and he rolled it around his mouth before adding, ‘It’s Saturday night, so like I say, this better be a whole lot of trouble for you to disturb me when I’m with my family.’ He looked at Holly, rolling his eyes as she took the last of his cocaine.
‘Sorry, I realize that, and I wouldn’t have—’
‘Just get on with it, you know it pisses me off when people don’t get to the point.’
‘Sorry . . . There’s been an incident, and it might be best if you come—’
‘Fine. I’m on my way. Oh and, Tony, just for the record, I’m not happy. I’m not fucking happy at all that my weekend is going to be messed up.’ He sighed and, before the caller had a chance to respond, hung up.
He rubbed his temple, a headache beginning to form. There’d been trouble brewing for the past week and, as much as this phone call wasn’t wanted, it wasn’t entirely unexpected.
Grabbing the half-empty whisky bottle, he took a swig, wiping a drip off his chin with his arm. Then he took another. One for the road. After all, he had a two-and-a-half-hour drive in front of him.
Angry at that thought, he put on his watch and wedding ring, pulled on his boxers, trousers and top, checking his hair and clothes in the mirror. He looked at Holly, who now lay back on the bed, her eyes looking heavy.
Shaking his head, he threw the money at her. ‘Tidy this fucking mess up, it’s a shithole.’
She squawked at him. ‘I’m a hooker, not a frigging cleaner . . . Same time next week, hun?’
Without bothering to answer, Governor Phil Reed marched out, slamming the door behind him.
1
TODAY
HMP Ashcroft: 20 miles outside London
‘You ain’t fucking going to take my baby, you hear me! You ain’t going to take him! I won’t let you. He’s mine. Mine!’ Ness Davis sat on the grimy floor of the cell, hugging her large pregnant stomach, tears streaming down her cheeks.
‘Listen to me, Ness, this isn’t going to do you any favours. There are other ways to go about this. The official way.’
‘And when’s that done any fucking good in this shithole, hey?’
‘Ness, open up, the sooner you do the better, then we can talk and get this all sorted out.’ There was a tinge of impatience in the prison officer’s tone as she spoke from the other side of the thick metal cell door, raising her voice to be heard over the banging and shouts of the other women.
How fucking long are you going to keep us in here
Tell that stupid bitch just to open up
If I lose my visit because of her, I swear, I ain’t going to be responsible for my actions
I’m going to rip her a new one if I’ve got to be in here another hour . . .
Ness listened to the yelling from the other women. She didn’t blame them. She knew she was pissing everyone off. After all, they’d been locked up for over twenty-four hours due to the stand-off between her and the prison officers, but what else was she supposed to do? ‘I ain’t going to do anything unless I speak to the governor. You said he was coming, where the fuck is he, anyway?’ Banging the door with her fist, she screeched back. ‘You hear me, I want to see him, now!’
‘He’s on his way, but I really don’t think you’ll win any brownie points with him. Now stop wasting everyone’s time and open up.’
Wiping her tears on the sleeve of her tracksuit top, Ness yelled so loudly she felt the words cut at the back of her throat. ‘I said, I want to see him, and I ain’t going to change my mind. So just go and get him, yeah . . . I ain’t going to speak to anyone else. Pointless wasting my breath on you lot. Bunch of fucking muppets!’
She screamed the last part, then sighed angrily. She hadn’t actually met the new governor, but if he was anything like the last one, he’d sort things, listen to her, unlike the officers. The only thing they cared about was clocking off and slacking off.
‘. . . Ness, look, you aren’t giving us any other choice, we’re going to come in. OK? So stand back.’
She heard the rattle of keys from the other side of the door and immediately shouted back again, banging on the door once more. ‘If you do . . . if you do, if you even try to come in here, I’ll kill her! You hear me, I’ll slice her up proper!’
The jangling of keys immediately stopped, and through her tears, Ness smiled to herself. She knew the screws wouldn’t risk it. No one wanted a bleeder on their hands. Not because they cared – there was just too much damn paperwork.
In fact, she had no intention of killing anyone, least of all Maureen, her cellmate. Though they suspected that was the case, none of the screws could be certain of it as she’d jammed the hatch and covered the peephole on the door.
Calming down slightly, she yawned and flicked a glance at Maureen. ‘I’m sorry, Reenie. I never wanted to put you in this position, but I don’t know what else to do,’ she whispered, not wanting the officers to hear.
Maureen’s grey eyebrows snapped together, a look of concern on her lined face. She spoke quietly: ‘Sweetheart, you know me – you could do a rain dance on the roof for all I care. I’m only worried that all this shouting and screaming won’t do the bairn any good.’ She smiled warmly at Ness, who smiled back. Feeling her baby kick, she rubbed her stomach and closed her eyes.
Since she’d arrived in Ashcroft in mid-October, almost seven months ago now, Maureen had looked out for her: fussing and caring, making sure she ate, helping her not to fall into the group of spice guzzlers on the wing, who were so off their head most of the time they didn’t even know they were banged up, which she guessed wasn’t altogether a bad thing.
But Maureen had kept her well. Clean. It was the longest she’d gone without snorting or shooting anything up since she was a kid. And quite frankly, she didn’t know what she’d have done without Maureen. Her head had been a mess when they’d brought her in. She was looking at ten years in this shithole and the truth was, if it hadn’t been for her cellmate, she probably would’ve topped herself by now.
Maureen – or Reenie as she always called her – felt more like a mother to her than her own had ever been. Though that wasn’t hard; Ness’s mother had been nothing but a crackhead who loved the gear more than she’d ever loved any of her seven kids. And if there’d been any doubt about that, it had become evident when her mother had given her a handful of uppers and put her on the game at thirteen to pay for her habit. Fast-forward twenty years, and that was still the only career she knew.
Opening her eyes and wiping her running nose on her grey tracksuit sleeve, Ness glanced up at Maureen, who continued to knit – an illegal pastime in Ashcroft after too many women had used the needles as weapons, or worse. Tess, who was celled up on the next landing and saw herself as top dog of the wing, used them to sexually assault the women who dared cross her.
She breathed out heavily and turned her attention back to Maureen. ‘Reenie, what do you reckon – should I hold out for the governor? I don’t want Lynette to miss her visit, she hasn’t seen her kid for a few weeks now, and I know she was supposed to come today. She couldn’t wait to see her.’
‘For feck’s sake, will you look at that?’ Maureen, cursing slightly at the dropped stitch on the yellow baby bonnet she was making, looked up. She beamed, the lines around her eyes becoming deeper as her soft Irish accent filled the air. ‘You’re a good girl, Nessie, so you are, and I think maybe the kindest thing to do—’
Before Maureen had managed to say anything else, the door was flung open, sending Ness sprawling across the floor as six officers in full riot gear barged in.
‘Get back! Get back! Put your weapon down!’
‘She hasn’t got a weapon, you fecking eejits!’ Maureen shouted in horror.
Ness screamed as the officers continued to yell their orders. They pinned her down and Maureen rushed over, her face pinched with anger. ‘What the feck are you doing, you know the girl’s pregnant! Get off her! For God’s sake, get off her, you lumps of fuck! You’re going to hurt her, get off! You could do her and the bairn an injury.’
Maureen started to take another step towards Ness, who was sobbing and crying out in pain, but she was immediately blocked by a tall figure strolling casually into the cell. ‘Enough! This is a prison, not a zoo.’ There was an authoritative tone to his voice.
‘Try telling them that! What did they go and barge in here like that for?’ Maureen stood to her full five-foot height.
‘They were following my orders. Problem?’ Governor Phil Reed, dressed in a freshly pressed suit, threw a glance at Ness sprawled on the floor.
‘Who the feck are you anyway?’
Reed smirked. ‘It depends how you want to play it. I’m either your saviour or I’m your biggest nightmare. In other words, I’m your new governor.’ He winked at the old woman with the mass of white hair tied up in a bun who stood defiantly in front of him. He’d read a lot of the women’s notes when he’d arrived, but most of them had just merged into one big mess. To him they were all the same: druggies, whores, child abusers, husband killers, shoplifters, wasters of society and taxpayers’ money. But Maureen Flaherty, well, she was different from the others. Her notes had fascinated him: an ex-nun, who’d refused a defence barrister, had been given life, but was now a model prisoner, trusted by all the women . . . Someone who might be very useful to him.
Much to his silent amusement, Maureen looked taken aback.
‘Now move it. I want a quiet word with Vanessa on my own, see if we can’t sort this little problem out between us.’
At first Maureen didn’t move, her gaze darting to where Ness still lay.
‘Go on, get out. She’ll be fine, I’ll look after her,’ Reed said disingenuously. ‘Oh, and Maureen, I can rely on you not to stir up the other women, can’t I? As far as you’re concerned, this matter is closed.’
Without a word, she nodded, and he watched her shuffle out of the cell. He turned and glanced at the riot officers. ‘That means you lot too . . . Now get out.’
The officers looked at each other uneasily before Officer Sharps, a small stocky woman, spoke. ‘Sir, are you sure? It’s not—’
‘It’s not what?’ Reed cut in. ‘You wouldn’t be so stupid to start to question my authority already, would you, Officer?’ He glared at her. ‘I’m sure I can handle Vanessa on my own – let’s not make this bigger than it is already. You’ll learn very quickly my approach is often different to other people’s, but I get results, and I also have the women’s best interest at heart. And creating a bigger drama out of this isn’t in the interest of anyone, especially Vanessa . . .’
Reed trailed off, wincing at the sharp bite of his headache, which he’d had since last night despite having taken several painkillers and a tumbler of brandy. It was one of the reasons he hadn’t come straight to the prison. Instead, he’d gone home, laid down on the couch and woken up this morning to several missed calls and frantic messages from Tony Earle, his deputy, who in the short time he’d known him had proved to be more of a hindrance than anything else.
