Bang Up: Prison walls don't just keep criminals in, the keep the outside world at bay (28 page)

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

Brendan punched his clenched fist into the air. He was loving this, it was payback time. “Kick his fucking head in for me mate. He’s fuck all to me anymore, kill the cunt, knock his teeth out.” 

Davo lay back down on his bed and nodded his head slowly. The clock was ticking now and Mikey Milne’s days were numbered. He’d show this clown how he rolled. Nobody fucked with Davo, nobody.

*

Mark stood on a corridor not far from B-Wing. It was quiet here, not like the rest of the prison. It was eerie, haunting. An old man walked past Mark and smiled at him sheepishly. The guy must have been at least sixty; bald head, silver-rimmed glasses hanging on the end of his fat and stumpy nose. “Morning sir,” the old geezer said as he strolled past him. Mark nodded and screwed his face up slightly. He had no time for this offender, you could tell. Walking up the landing, he stopped at a cell door and seemed to take forever before he stepped inside. Slowly, with a flat palm, he edged the door open wide. “Alright Dennis, I just wanted to pass you a message from your lad. He’s on my wing and he’s heard you’re in the same jail.” 

Dennis nearly collapsed. He was frozen, eyes wide open, lips trembling. He ran to the window and stuck his head through the bars having a panic attack. Dennis was suffocating and finding it hard to breathe. Mark hesitated, after a few seconds he walked closer to him and checked he was alright. “He just wants to know if he can see you. Yes or no?” 

Dennis ran his fingers through his thick grey hair. This guy looked a lot older than he was. His yellow tobacco-stained teeth stood out from his mouth as he gripped the bars with force. “Why does he want to see me? Has he said. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” 

Mark was fed up already and hated being on this wing. “Listen, I’m just passing a message from your son. Personally, I wouldn’t give you the time of day but ay, that’s just me. Do you want to see him or what? I’ve not got all day.” 

Dennis closed his eyes and his cheeks creased. He was thinking out loud. “It’s been years, what would I say to him? I’m an old fool who’s been locked up for years. He was a kid when I left him. I don’t know him anymore. I’m a mess, a fuck up. A dirty rotten hanging twat.” 

“You said that, not me,” the screw sneered. Mark started to edge his way out of the door. He had no time to listen to all this shit. It was a yes or no, a simple answer like he’d already told him. 

Dennis turned on the spot. He had to make a decision one way or the other. He ragged his fingers through his hair and squeezed his eyes together tightly. “I’ll see him. I want to see him.” 

Mark stood with his hand resting on the doorway. He could have done without this and didn’t need the ball-ache of setting up a meeting. He sighed and shook his head. “I thought you didn’t want to see him. I mean, it’s not like you’re a role model to him is it. In fact, if I was him, I would put you six foot under.” 

Dennis gritted his teeth tightly together. He was no shit-bag and prison life had taught him a thing or two about defending himself. This man had been hurt inside these walls, there were deep gashes all over his body, he’d had boiling water flung all over him. His time inside the jails over the years had nearly killed him off. Fifteen years Dennis had been inside the system and he never thought he would see the outside world again. His sentence was coming to an end in the next few months and he’d already told his mental health worker that he didn’t think he was ready to face society again. This was his world, this was where he felt safe. Prison was all he’d known for most of his life. Mark studied Dennis for a lot longer than he should have. A cunning smirk appeared on his face and he tapped his fingers on the side of the door. “I’ll sort it out for tomorrow. It might be a bit hard to get him over to this side but I’ll try my best.” 

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