Jane Renshaw - Watch Over Me

And she goes, ‘You’ve got kids ?’

‘Yes, Bekki, had you forgotten? Connor helped your mum sort her laptop when she had problems with it, remember?’

Wee Bekki’s shaking her head.

And I pull out my phone and show her the photy of Carly after she had Willow in the hospital, with Connor sitting on the bed next her grinning like a daftie. ‘There’s Connor. Actually, maybe you were at school when he came over… but I’m sure Flora and I were talking about him when you were there. You don’t remember? And that’s Carly and wee Willow, her baby.’

Bekki’s rabbit in the headlights.

‘Carly’s carrying a few extra pounds. She could benefit from your healthy eating plan, don’t you reckon?’

‘She’s really pretty,’ Bekki whispered, the wee darlin’.

Now I’m getting out the motor and going, ‘Come on then, Bekki, let’s go,’ and here’s Connor coming out the door and the wee diddy’s all choked up, and I goes, ‘Right then Connor, here’s Bekki’ and I give him evils because Bekki’s gonnae be thinking Why’s that dowfie wee bastard trying no to greet?

And he’s ‘Hiya Bekki’ and Bekki’s eyeballing him and going, ‘Hi,’ and then we’re in the lounge and Carly’s got Willow through and she’s going, ‘Wannae hold her, Bekki?’ and Bekki’s ‘I don’t know how. I might drop her’ and Carly’s ‘Dinnae you worry, hen, I’ll soon learn you, eh? Connor hasnae dropped her yet, and if that wee fuckwit –’

I’m ‘Carly, mind your language please!’ and Carly’s ‘Sorry. Here, Bekki, you sit down on the settee and then if you do drop the wean she’s gonnae get a soft landing, eh?’ and Bekki’s got Willow in her arms and she’s looking down at the babby and the babby’s looking right back at her, and it’s no happening just yet because Willow cannae and Bekki’s sad, eh, but it winnae be long before they two’s smiling and laughing together, and I’m that choked up I’ve to get outta there and through the kitchen and out the back to the garden, and I’m staring at they begonias and greeting my fucking eyes out.

Flora chose a table opposite the door as usual, so she would know straight away whether Caroline had Beckie with her. She never knew what to hope for – it was no place for a child, obviously, but she couldn’t help hoping that Beckie would come this time.

An attempt had been made to make the Visit Room child friendly. The walls were painted sunshine yellow, and there were some pictures of smiling people bolted to them, and even some bright alphabet and number posters in the play area corner. But if a child used the play area, they had to be accompanied by a visitor, not the prisoner.

The prisoners had to remain seated at their tables at all times.

There were only three other women with this visiting slot today, as Flora had hoped. And they were all young girls whose presence was in no way threatening. Flora always waited until the last minute to book her visiting slot, just in case Beckie came, so she could find out who else had booked when, and avoid the hard nuts.

‘Hey Flora,’ said Danielle, twisting round at the table in front, knees jigging. ‘God I’m needing a fucking fag.’

There was meant to be no talking among prisoners in the Visit Room, but Mrs Aitken, standing by the door, tended to turn a blind eye as long as the exchanges remained civil.

Flora smiled. ‘It’s a cup of coffee I want.’

Because they weren’t allowed to leave their seats, they had to wait until their visitors arrived to get them stuff from the vending machines.

‘It’s shite,’ said Danielle.

‘But it’s caffeine.’

‘I’m wanting chocolate buttons. But they should let us fucking smoke. Should be a nonsmoking room and a smoking room for stupid cows like me cannae quit.’ Her knees were jumping now. Danielle was cyclothymic, and currently in a hyper phase. ‘Although I guess it’s for the kids, eh. Don’t want them getting passive smoking.’

‘You don’t get passive smoking,’ said one of the other girls with a roll of her eyes.

‘All right, ladies,’ said Mrs Aitken.

‘Sorry,’ said Danielle, although the rebuke hadn’t been aimed at her.

‘Verbal fucking diarrhoea,’ said the other girl.

‘Aye, just because I’m bubbly and that –’

‘And we wouldn’t have you any other way,’ said Flora. ‘Although, when your brother arrives for your visit –’

Danielle grinned. ‘Keep it zipped, eh?’

‘Well, at least let him say hello.’

Everyone in the room smiled, including Mrs Aitken.

Flora had rediscovered the knack she’d acquired, all those years ago, in the Young Offenders’ Institution of diffusing this sort of tension, the sort of tension that was inevitable when you put a group of troubled young women together. Sometimes it felt as if she’d never left it, as if the intervening years had been a wonderful dream, and now she’d woken up to reality.

Bail had been refused after it had come out that she was Rachel Clark and a ‘flight risk’, having already ‘disappeared’ with a new identity more than once.

As one of the older inmates, she had found that she was automatically afforded a certain amount of respect. But she knew how to avoid trouble. She knew how to deal with the other prisoners. Walk tall. Act confident. Be friendly, but not too friendly. Be generous with food and possessions, but don’t be a doormat. Don’t initiate eye contact with the hard nuts, but if you sense them looking at you, look back, hold their gaze, maybe greet them casually by name.

She’d been helping Danielle and some of the others with literacy and numeracy, and yesterday in the gym Wendy, one of the hard nuts, had taken her aside and muttered that she’d be ‘grateful’ if Flora would help her with her reading. ‘Never went much to the school, you know?’

Now that she was in with Wendy, she was home and dry.

And she was hating every minute, every hour that Beckie had to be without her.

But she was innocent and she was going to prove it, no matter what doom and gloom Charles Aitcheson came out with. There must be evidence, somewhere, that the Johnsons did this. She would be found innocent, and Beckie would believe it, and everything would be fine. She and Beckie would go far away and make a new start.

And now the door was opening and Danielle’s brother was beaming at his sister, and behind him Caroline was shaking her head apologetically.

No Beckie.

‘Sorry Flora,’ Caroline grimaced through a nervous smile. ‘She still doesn’t want to come. I told her about the Family Hub and the wee garden and everything, I said it didn’t even seem like a prison, but –’

Flora nodded. ‘It’s fine. It’s maybe better she doesn’t come. I –’

‘Coffee, yeah? And a Kit Kat?’ A smile still fixed to her face, Caroline hooked her bag over the chair opposite Flora’s.

‘Thanks, that would be great.’

‘I’m really sorry, Flora.’

‘Don’t worry about it. I think it might be better to concentrate on persuading her to agree to Skype. Or even just to write to me.’

‘She just needs a bit more time. She’ll come round. She’s just…’

‘She’s confused and angry and scared.’ Flora breathed. ‘Of course she is.’

Watching Caroline making her selections at the drinks vending machine, glancing first one way and then the other over her shoulder, as if expecting to be jumped at any moment, Flora reflected that it was as if they had swapped places. Flora seemed to have acquired all the assurance Caroline had lost. It was obvious that Caroline hated coming here, that it unnerved and disturbed her. And where Flora had lost weight and toned up thanks to hitting the gym for four hours every day, Caroline’s figure had expanded and softened, the fabric of her white jeans sausage-tight across her bum and thighs.