No, this wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening. How would she ever survive? She wasn’t gay, she wasn’t streetwise, and she certainly wasn’t hard. She felt the tear trickle down her face and quickly she wiped it away. The screw unlocked the end door and pushed her through, locking it behind her. They marched down the stairs and along another hallway, until, finally, they were in the reception area. Kara was too afraid to look at anyone, until she heard a man’s voice. ‘Kara Bannon?’
Slowly, she glanced up and nodded.
There, a tall, dark-haired, and smartly dressed man in his mid-forties, who reminded her of a younger Hugh Bonneville, smiled compassionately, giving Kara a feeling of hope. Please tell me I am going home?
‘You need to fill out this form. They forgot yesterday.’ He spun a piece of paper around on the desk and handed her a pen. The female officer stood by her side like a concrete statue. Kara looked at the form. It had two questions: name and next of kin. She scribbled her name, and on the line below, she wrote ‘no one’.
The male officer took the form from her, and then he raised his eyebrow. ‘You have no next of kin?’
Kara shook her head.
‘What, no parents, partner, brother, sister, or even aunts?’
Kara shook her head again. ‘No one,’ she whispered.
‘Okay, now it was a mad rush yesterday. It always is on the weekends. Have you been told the process, like how it works?’
Before Kara could answer, the screw jumped in. ‘Yep, Gov, she was given the full low-down—’ She was cut short.
‘Sandra, was I talking to you? Go back to the wing. I want to talk to Bannon alone.’
Sandra gave him a spiteful sneer and stomped away. Once the door was slammed shut, the man looked Kara up and down. She gathered he must be the governor or assistant governor. ‘A lot to take in, isn’t it?’
Kara raised her head and smiled nervously. ‘Yes, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, you see. It’s all new to me.’
‘Yes, I can see that … Look, Kara, I won’t pretend it’s a bed of roses in here because it isn’t. I suggest you keep your head down, don’t listen to the other inmates, and sign up for a job right away. Of course, you don’t have to because you’re only on remand, but it might be better if you do. You have fifteen pounds a week for the canteen, which means money to buy stamps, treats, tobacco, and phonecards. Your breakfast will be left in the cell and the lunchtime and dinnertime meals will be in the canteen.’ He chewed the inside of his mouth. ‘You can order books from the library.’ He probably guessed she liked reading, just by the way she spoke. ‘What was your job on the outside?’
Kara swallowed hard. Her job was her life, except for Justin, and both were gone now. ‘Epidemiologist,’ she replied.
‘Okay, Kara, well, mopping floors will be a drastic change.’ He was clearly trying to make a joke, but Kara was still in shock and riven with uncertainty.
She stared at his deep blue eyes and noticed they had a kind sentiment about them. ‘I don’t know how I should address you or anyone for that matter.’
‘My name is George, but you must call me Gov. You can’t really go wrong with calling all the staff Gov. The other girls do,’ he replied.
George had worked his way up through the system for twenty years and took no shit from anyone – the inmates or his fellow officers. He had only worked at Larkview Prison for a year, having been taken on by the number one governor. She wanted the prison cleaned up, and he was the man for the job.
In his time, he had seen hundreds of inmates come and go and some return time and time again, yet he had never come across an inmate like Kara Bannon. It was the sadness in her remarkable amber eyes that set her apart. She was sweet and naturally attractive. Her hair was fair and her skin flawless. He inwardly sighed. She wouldn’t look so fresh after a stint in here. The bright lively waves of hair that shone would no doubt grow dull and lifeless, and her dewy glow would diminish, along with her soul.
‘Right, I’ll organise a job for you in a few days’ time, but for now, you can get to know how things work on the wing. You can go to the canteen. That’s where you buy your essentials, if you need anything.’
Kara shook her head. ‘I don’t usually smoke or eat sweets and I have nobody to write to or call.’ She didn’t seem to be saying it for the sympathy vote. George felt for the girl because deep down, he knew she would get eaten alive. Her posh voice, her naive manner, and her good looks would do her no favours. He smiled and nodded towards the door. ‘Okay, I shall escort you back.’
* * *
On the surface, he seemed soft and kind, and yet Kara, with one exception, had never trusted anyone. She never had and for good reason. All except Justin; she had trusted him and look where that had ended up.
As they walked back to the wing, he went over the procedures again. This time, Kara took it all on board – she had to, if she was to survive in this hellhole. She would have been put on the new inmates’ course, a short introduction that gave them a run-down on how the prison operated, what to expect, and what they expected from her. However, the prison was very short-staffed and so the two-day course was wrapped up in two hours.
Back inside her cell, she noticed the box that was supposed to contain her breakfast. It was empty. That Cole woman had stolen it. Kara’s stomach was now rumbling, and she thought back to the last time she had eaten anything. She couldn’t remember, it was so long ago. She would have to keep up her strength. Colette was sitting smugly with her eyebrow raised as if to say, ‘Yeah, go on, Kara, say something.’
Kara hesitated, but then she made a stupid mistake. It was her biggest blunder and a real learning curve for her, accusing Colette of stealing her food. ‘That was my breakfast, I do believe.’ Her tone was soft, but there was an undercurrent of sarcasm. She never meant it to come out that way, but it did, and it was too late to take it back. Colette was off her bed in an instant. She spun around, and with a clenched fist, she punched Kara clean in the mouth. The thud was hard and knocked Kara against the wall. She tasted the blood and winced, just as another punch hit her. This time, she felt her head smack against cold concrete. It was as if the wind was knocked out of her. Colette stepped back with a cruel, beady look in her eye and dared Kara to fight back.
Colette’s fighting skills were gained from many a ruck inside. She had a reputation, and with her fast and furious blows, she would have an opponent on the deck in the blink of an eye. Some brave or stupid souls returned the violence, but the clued-up ones begged her to stop.
However, Kara was still in total shock. She had never been hit before and it wasn’t as she had anticipated. Her cheek hurt like a dull cramp and she was left with a sore tingling. But it was the unknown that was the problem. It was the prospect of further aggression that was frightening her and also not knowing the possible damage that would be inflicted on her.
Her fear when she entered the prison was the brutality, isolation, and inhumanity, along with deprivation. After she wiped the blood away with the back of her hand, she stared at Colette with a dull expression that didn’t match her thoughts. She was stunned and should have been terrified. Yet, for some odd reason, this initiation into prison life really wasn’t as bad as she had imagined. Deep inside her mind, she’d gained an ability to detach herself. Besides, the pain of losing everything was worse and perhaps the smack in the mouth was a wake-up call to snap her out of the daze she’d been living in.
Colette was watching the younger woman’s still countenance, gauging Kara’s next move. But there was no move: Kara just continued to gape at Colette with no life in her eyes. It was a poignant moment, which Colette, for all her bravado, was at a loss to explain. Normally, if she gave a bird a good hard lump, they would either try to defend themselves, or, more likely, they would crumble on the floor in a ball, begging for her to stop. Either way, it was a win-win.