Kyle being here so quickly. Coincidences happen, but this one was already stretched beyond the snapping point.
Thomas shoved his glass away from him, and headed out for the street. Cat looked down at her water, finished it, then followed Thomas out into the rain.
@tt33w6yh: Thanks. Who are u?
@purevoice94: A friend. Your voice is perfect. Are you a pro?
@tt33w6yh: LOL! I wish!! Then, annoyed with herself, she clarifies
.
@tt33w6yh: Do want to sing professionally. Practise all the time. No band though
.
@purevoice94: You don’t need one. Not with my help
.
@tt33w6yh: Help me? Why?
@purevoice94: I believe in you. Know talent when I see it
.
@tt33w6yh: But who are u?
@purevoice94: I’m in the business. I’ll help you
.
6
CAT PARKED IN the half-flooded yard at the back of The Lion and had a smoke while she was at it. She needed to call on Martin but couldn’t face it yet. She went upstairs, closed the flimsy curtains in the bedroom and put in earplugs. She lay in the semi-darkness. She shut out everything except the sound of her breathing and waited for the throbbing in her head to stop.
It didn’t, but gradually it became manageable. She sat up, cracked the window and smoked another. The first three months of benzo withdrawal were the worst. Most people stayed in bed resting but she didn’t have that choice. She just had to roll with the punches and keep her eyes on the light.
She booted her Mac. There was an unsecured wireless connection, probably the pub’s, and she piggybacked on that.
While she was waiting for the connection, she made a call to Sol Bowles at Her Majesty’s Inspectorate of Prisons. It was a pay-for line. After getting through several recorded messages, a receptionist came on and told her Bowles was busy. She asked to be put through to his secretary and after a wait was told he would not be free. Then abruptly he came on the line.
She didn’t offer any excuses for not having been in touch. She didn’t want to sound fake. She apologised for troubling him, and asked him to go through with her the conditions Morgan had been held in.
She could tell right off from his tone that he thought they were both wasting their time.
‘Go on. Talk me through it,’ she said.
‘What, the strip search? The multiple visual confirmations? The thirty-foot walls with anti-grip paint? The security lighting and CCTV? The pressure sensors? And that’s just the prison as a whole. The maximum security units are even tighter, cameras everywhere. Prisoners spend most of their time locked in their rooms, with repeated visual inspections through the day. Cell checks are frequent. Morgan has been on communication blackout for several years. They have detectors that can pick up mobiles or any electronic devices. Unless he’s psychic he’s not talked to anyone they don’t know about.’ He was gathering steam. ‘If I put my prison inspector’s hat on, I’d say there were issues with the way Belmarsh is run – a propensity to use excessive force when it comes to prisoner restraint, overcrowding obviously, inadequate recreational and educational facilities – but if you want to ask me whether a dying man could get out of that place, then no fucking way. It’s impossible. Forget about it.’
‘Mouse’s arse,’ she said.
‘Sorry.’
‘Something Thomas said.’ She thanked Sol and they chatted for a bit about the old days until the talk ran out on them, then after an embarrassed silence, they said their goodbyes and hung up.
Cat felt relieved that she would not have to bother her mind any longer with Houdini-like scenarios. Morgan, in person at least, was out of the frame. She clicked through to her personal emails. In among the spam and follow-ups from letting agents, one item pleased her. It was from ‘Rob Benzo’. On the top margin was his forum avatar. It showed a cartoon Jack Nicholson from
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
. Next to it, some children’s verse. They had started chatting
Thomas shoved his glass away from him, and headed out for the street. Cat looked down at her water, finished it, then followed Thomas out into the rain.
@tt33w6yh: Thanks. Who are u?
@purevoice94: A friend. Your voice is perfect. Are you a pro?
@tt33w6yh: LOL! I wish!! Then, annoyed with herself, she clarifies
.
@tt33w6yh: Do want to sing professionally. Practise all the time. No band though
.
@purevoice94: You don’t need one. Not with my help
.
@tt33w6yh: Help me? Why?
@purevoice94: I believe in you. Know talent when I see it
.
@tt33w6yh: But who are u?
@purevoice94: I’m in the business. I’ll help you
.
6
CAT PARKED IN the half-flooded yard at the back of The Lion and had a smoke while she was at it. She needed to call on Martin but couldn’t face it yet. She went upstairs, closed the flimsy curtains in the bedroom and put in earplugs. She lay in the semi-darkness. She shut out everything except the sound of her breathing and waited for the throbbing in her head to stop.
It didn’t, but gradually it became manageable. She sat up, cracked the window and smoked another. The first three months of benzo withdrawal were the worst. Most people stayed in bed resting but she didn’t have that choice. She just had to roll with the punches and keep her eyes on the light.
She booted her Mac. There was an unsecured wireless connection, probably the pub’s, and she piggybacked on that.
While she was waiting for the connection, she made a call to Sol Bowles at Her Majesty’s Inspectorate of Prisons. It was a pay-for line. After getting through several recorded messages, a receptionist came on and told her Bowles was busy. She asked to be put through to his secretary and after a wait was told he would not be free. Then abruptly he came on the line.
She didn’t offer any excuses for not having been in touch. She didn’t want to sound fake. She apologised for troubling him, and asked him to go through with her the conditions Morgan had been held in.
She could tell right off from his tone that he thought they were both wasting their time.
‘Go on. Talk me through it,’ she said.
‘What, the strip search? The multiple visual confirmations? The thirty-foot walls with anti-grip paint? The security lighting and CCTV? The pressure sensors? And that’s just the prison as a whole. The maximum security units are even tighter, cameras everywhere. Prisoners spend most of their time locked in their rooms, with repeated visual inspections through the day. Cell checks are frequent. Morgan has been on communication blackout for several years. They have detectors that can pick up mobiles or any electronic devices. Unless he’s psychic he’s not talked to anyone they don’t know about.’ He was gathering steam. ‘If I put my prison inspector’s hat on, I’d say there were issues with the way Belmarsh is run – a propensity to use excessive force when it comes to prisoner restraint, overcrowding obviously, inadequate recreational and educational facilities – but if you want to ask me whether a dying man could get out of that place, then no fucking way. It’s impossible. Forget about it.’
‘Mouse’s arse,’ she said.
‘Sorry.’
‘Something Thomas said.’ She thanked Sol and they chatted for a bit about the old days until the talk ran out on them, then after an embarrassed silence, they said their goodbyes and hung up.
Cat felt relieved that she would not have to bother her mind any longer with Houdini-like scenarios. Morgan, in person at least, was out of the frame. She clicked through to her personal emails. In among the spam and follow-ups from letting agents, one item pleased her. It was from ‘Rob Benzo’. On the top margin was his forum avatar. It showed a cartoon Jack Nicholson from
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
. Next to it, some children’s verse. They had started chatting
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