Sweet Agony

by Paul Sykes

  After a quick bath in lukewarm water, with a screw aching to tell me to get out, I dressed carefully debating all the time whether to demand breakfast or not. No, I decided, if I do the bastards will keep me hanging about ages and I didn't want anything to eat just yet anyway.

  'Come and sign for your cash,' the PO said, forcing a smile. 'We can let you out then before the others come. '

  Passing the Admin' block I caught a glimpse of myself in the windows. I looked much better than I was feeling. My clothing seemed to be made of canvas, stiff and heavy. The little, brand-new screw who'd been with me all the way had a face like a bad ham, as if he wished he was being discharged.

  Like the screws in the gate lodge he didn't speak, smile, or even look at me as I was let in one side and out of the other.

  * * * *

  The Judas gate slammed behind me. 'We don't want your sort in here,' it said as plain as day. They didn't like me in Durham and I didn't like them and the Judas gate could stay shut forever.

  Go on you daft cunts, I thought, lock yourselves in. Their stupidity amazed me at times. Stepping forward and turning round I looked for the clock only to see to my astonishment there wasn't one, there wasn't a gatehouse clock. It must be hidden I decided, so people like me couldn't smash it on their way out.

  Smack opposite the gates was a little park full of evergreen trees, shrubs, bushes, and floating in the tops of the trees were streamers. They looked to be made of cotton-wool. For a minute I stood and wondered what it could be and then remembered the river on three sides of the City. It was mist, and for it to be so white the river had to be clean and fresh and unpolluted. It was magical, and 1'd never seen anything remotely like it. Walking from the gate to the red and white pole on the border of prison property I inhaled deep breaths of the mild, damp air and was amazed at the powerful scent from the trees and shrubs.

  My clothing didn't feel comfortable at all, it felt solid enough to stop bullets, and I had the beginning of a trickle of sweat at the bottom of my back. Ducking under the pole I couldn't help but notice two family groups waiting for sons and lovers all with their faces etched deep with malice looking with hostility in my direction, all but one feller who was studying the sky directly above his head as though he'd never seen it before and trying to whistle. He may have been a fisherman from South Shields looking to see how the weather would be for when 'the boat comes in', but I didn't really think so. They all

  thought I was a governor because I wore a 3-piece pin-striped suit, or if not a governor then somebody to do with why their Billy was locked up. Half-wits like them couldn't solve the crossword in 'The Sun' and here they were assuming I was the enemy. The feller looking at the sky didn't want the blame for the expression on his wife's face.

  My clothes began to feel better as I became used to them and I realised like me they only wanted breaking in. The fresh air was wonderful, the perfume from the trees, the silence; there wasn't any traffic for miles it seemed, and the bounce in my step was wonderful. Everything was wonderful, and spring was definitely in the air after a long hard winter. Should I do a right or keep straight on. If I did a right I'd have to walk past the police station and I didn't want to see a copper this morning, it would spoil everything seeing a copper. It would be worse than seeing a magpie.

  The decision to keep straight on had just been made when a car engine suddenly roared into life shattering the peace and tranquillity and scaring a flock of sparrows from the guttering of the nearest building. The car came racing towards me as sparrows skimmed my head like tracer bullets. For an instant I thought the car was going to hit me but it swerved at the very last moment and screeched to a halt at my side.

  The driver's window was open and a familiar black face with a huge grin on it said, 'Now then, brother.' Del nipped lively from the car, shook my hand, welcomed me back into the world of the living and then ordered me to get in the back and let's be off. Without a word I did as I'd been told and found I was sitting next to a girl with skin the colour of milky coffee and eyes that said she'd just woken up. In the front was Davy Dunford. He showed me 32 big white teeth in his characteristic grin and nodded, and then Del set off as though we'd just done a smash and grab.

  Del had been my pal for two sentences and all the time in between. He's short, and looks nothing much in clothing, but when he strips off you can't believe your eyes. He's massive, with masses of thick, hard muscle. He's handsome too, a dead ringer for Ken Norton. He doesn't smoke, doesn't drink, and trains almost every day. A good clean living boy, with his only flaw being a terribly strong leaning towards smooth-skinned, fair-haired white boys, a tendency he doesn't deny. He's 27 and lives with a bird in Liverpool, a pretty, intelligent

  white girl whose just seen him through a 4-year sentence with regular visits and three or four long interesting letters every week. I wasn't sure if she was aware of his sexual inclinations but I should think she was. Her name is Karen and she'd lived at my parents' with Pauline a few years ago while Del had been serving his sentence, jointly charged with Davy, and he finished about 6 months ago. Karen came to visit with Eunice, that's Davy's sister, just after Christmas, a nice pleasant visit with two attractive girls. It was a pleasant break from the cell.

  I didn't know Davy all that well, I'd only met him in Durham last year. A short, fair-haired kid from Sheffield, who wasn't a bad footballer and not a bad weight-lifter either. At first I'd thought he was one of Del's boys but he wasn't. He has a girl, in fact he's had the same girl since she was 14 and she is 22 now. He'd been across the landing from me until a week before Christmas, and the day he'd been released he'd sent me in his radio. Mine had broken and with only having a few months left I'd not bothered about it. He sent me his without having to ask. A nice gesture I really appreciated.

  Who was the girl in the corner then? She must be for me if she wasn't Del's or Davy's.

  She was huddled inside a blue greatcoat with a brown ski cap pulled down to her ears. She was gorgeous, absolutely. Her skin looked so warm and smooth I wanted to kiss her and looked for a place to do so. Her lips were long and full, with a bottom lip promising a store of latent passion. Her nostrils were the same, two almond shapes that would flex in ecstasy, and her eyes, two velvet brown orbs in a sea of pearl that would close to prolong the pleasure. She smiled without any warmth, her eyes wary, showed milk white teeth and then looked out of the window.

  Who was I kidding I thought, remembering I had to find a paper shop and noticing Del's driving for the first time. He was concentrating on finding the way out of the town to the Al without letting anybody overtake us': We zoomed down streets, round roundabouts, stopping with jerks and starting with more G force than a Big Dipper.

  'Slow down Del,' I said, 'I've to find a paper shop. I've promised to send some magazines in to a kid. '

  'There isn't one,' Davy answered, twisting in the seat, 'I looked mesen when I came out.' He'd said before he'd been discharged he would send me some mags but he hadn't, he'd sent the radio instead.

  'Well slow down a bit just in case one's opened.'

  He grinned, in fact he was always grinning, it was his answer to everything. A huge grin that looked like the cliffs of Dover. It used to drive the screws barmy, and occasionally me too. He'd not seen a paper shop but I doubted he'd looked because there had to be one somewhere. The promise I'd made had taken precedence over the bird in the corner; going home, stabbing images of Pauline, all the conglomeration of random thoughts I'd been having were blotted out with finding a paper shop. I'd made a promise; I regretted it now but I'd made it and I'd stay in Durham until it had been fulfilled, besides I wanted to look round and arrive home this afternoon. At this rate I'd be home before anybody was out of bed.

  'Do a right here Del,' I ordered, sticking my hand before his face and indicating with jerks, 'here, do a right Del.'

  'If you don't shift your hand I'll crash,' he said, and then screeched. One of Del's mad laughs. He had dozens of them, every one unique. My hand ha
d filled his vision like a brick wall. Pulling it back and feeling stupid I realised how much I liked him, had always liked him, and for him to be outside the gates at 6.30 this morning he had to like me. I was with friends and it would take 'some getting used to. He did a right and sure enough we found a paper shop.

  'Who's the papers for?' Davy asked as we entered.

  'Alan Forbes, a young kid from Ellesmere Port. I was twoed up with him last year.'

  'Oh yeah, I know him. Been shanghaid from Lancaster.'

  It had been over 6 months since I'd made the promise in the cell

  one night. He didn't smoke or snore and his feet didn't smell. He trained on the weights and everything else, and for a young kid he was good company. I'd told him all about Pauline, and having one last shot at a boxing licence, all the hopes and fears that I normally wouldn't tell a soul.

  He was a good listener and always came up with a sensible answer. His advice on my future love life was to get myself a 'schoolie', and he'd given me the copy of the 'Boxing News', just in case, a million to one shot, I'd find what I was looking for. I'd found

  Tommy's address which had given me a profound feeling of gratitude that I wanted to repay. Besides sending him a few weight-lifting mags I'd promised to pick him up and take him home when he was discharged in 6 weeks time just as Del was doing with me.

  The bird in the car wasn't a schoolie but not much older, maybe, I don't know, maybe 18. It was hard to tell the way she was wrapped up. She was still huddled in the corner as we set off again at a more leisurely speed. It was a type of car I'd not seen before, a model that had come out while I'd been in, and Del was dressed up like I'd not seen him before either. He could easily pass for the Nigerian Ambassador at the National Congress.

  'Anita. Paul,' Del announced, without taking his eyes from the road. Not a chance of crashing with him driving but he'd need a new car every 6 months. He'd revved up and braked in a series of mad dashes and sudden stops in the town but now we were on the A 1 we were overtaking other vehicles as though they were parked at the side of the road. It was the first time I'd sampled his driving although we'd been in plenty of cars together but I'd always been the driver.

  This car was on hire he told me and he'd passed the test since being released. He had a car on hire permanently, he needed one for his business; importing vegetation from his father's homeland of Nigeria. He drove exactly like he did anything, short intense bursts of maximum effort and sudden stops. He was the only feller I'd ever met who could equal my circuit times and he didn't have to train with anywhere near the intensity that I had to. He didn't need to because he was naturally so fucking strong. He is only 5'5" and weighed I3st. A 28" waist and 28" thighs, a chest like a golf-course and arms like knotted tow-rope and was far older than his years.

  Sometimes his wisdom made him seem ancient. He was the quickest learner I'd ever come across but soon lost interest when he thought he'd learned sufficient to get him through without making a fool of himself. Occasionally he'd think he was an expert when he'd only scraped the top off a subject or he'd learned enough to discover the subject bored him, but on a subject like chess, the rules and the object of the game he was easily the quickest and best player I knew. He was the best chess player a week after he'd been shown the game. Del was bright, quick, and self-educated, and he'd just remembered

  his manners. So her name is Anita, sleep sweeter with Anita and I'd like to very much.

  She was tall, about 5' 10", and her calves were perfect. Her legs were bare and her shoes were flat, and as she walked towards the entrance of 'The Scots Corner Hotel', where Del was treating me to breakfast, I hoped he had brought her for me, she was beautiful.

  Davy had on jeans and a nylon zip-up jacket, with shoes looking as though they'd been designed for snow. Welts like Dodgem cars, presumably the latest fashion. Del wore the grey striped trousers, black jacket and waistcoat of a morning suit. Obviously the years he'd spent pouring over the 'William Hickey' column had taken effect. How he'd love a mention one of these days, the hunt ball or a point-to-point, Squire Darkie from Liverpool 8. He would be treasured by his staff and tenants, loved and cherished for his wisdom and fair play. The times he'd told me in the nick, he thought the system that had preventing me from boxing was crooked and arrogant and nobody was more satisfied than he that I was being given a chance at last.

  'It's not right you should have to wait six months though.' He chewed on a slice of rubbery toast, 'I mean anything could happen in six months.'

  We were seated in the breakfast room around a small table festooned with little jugs and toast racks, there wasn't room for another salt pot, and bringing each other up to date with our fortunes and intentions, and Del had threatened the management with a lawsuit if they didn't bring him porridge. 'Damn it all,' he'd snapped at the waiter, 'Porridge is the traditional breakfast of the Englishman, part of his constitution.' His shoulders hunched under his jacket, rippling like an earth tremor and a thick vein throbbed in his neck. He was warming up for a fight. He was so incredibly strong he didn't have to know how to fight, he just walked in and screwed them up like paper bags. Throwing the table and the waiter through the wall wouldn't be any problem. 'Bring me porridge,' he'd continued to the terrified waiter, 'or you'll be hearing from my counsel and a lawsuit will be the result. '

  Not his solicitor but his counsel. Who that could be I'd no idea

  but it sounded ominous, a bit like his stare and bulging neck. He'd

  eaten the porridge and declared it delicious in a loud voice across

  the room to where the waiter was standing recovering from the shock.

  'Bloody delicious old chap. Just the stuff,' he'd called, and added in a whisper it was fucking lousy, watery and had lumps. It was instant crap. I didn't doubt it, it was all 'instant'; little pats of margarine individually wrapped and plastic containers of milk, all bits and pieces of instant service.

  'What do you think Davy, do you think it's a liberty the Board of Control making me wait six months before I can earn a living?'

  'Oh you'll get a living I should think.' He gave me one of his stupid grins as if to say making a living was a trivial matter.

  'I know I shall make a living but that's not the point. The point is who do they think they are passing a sentence when I've done nothing, the fucking slag bastards. '

  Here I was a free man and a self-elected body of whom Tommy was part said I had to behave myself before I could box. Where was the sense in that?' Surely if I was boxing and earning a living I'd far less chance of being in trouble than scratching my arse and waiting. What was the purpose of it unless Tommy wanted to see if my friendship with Alex was still evident? It was the only explanation I could think of and I'd spent hours thinking about it. There had been nobody on solitary to discuss it with and now at the first opportunity I'd exploded as if I was a Neanderthal man sighting a mammoth. Suddenly I became aware of my surroundings and Anita's startled expression.

  'Sorry love.' I smiled ruefully, 'I was forgetting where I was.' She showed lovely white teeth and two dimples appeared in her cheeks. Del had finished the toast and was eating another slice, this one with marmalade.

  'I'll show you this flat on Saturday.' He wiped crumbs fastidiously from his lips before he continued. 'I'm sure you'll like it. Your own bedroom but you'll have to share the rest. You'll be all right, they're two friends of mine. '

  Until that moment I'd forgotten I'd asked him weeks ago to find me somewhere to live until I'd become used to being free. He knew all about Pauline and the fact she'd had another baby. He didn't like her much before but he detested her now and thought she was the reason I'd asked. He wasn't aware I'd asked my parents about living at home. The news of a flat was good news indeed.

  'Friends of yours Del,' I said sceptically. Davy laughed at Del's outraged expression and Anita looked from one to the other in puzzlement. It seemed everybody but her knew of Del's sexual inclinations. Could it be there was something between them after all
?

  We came down the Al through Leeds to Wakefield, where we parked behind the stalls of the market on a purpose-built car-park. It was brand-new and very handy if you were a stall-holder like Mother and Kay. They were both swathed in bonnets and scarves and much too busy to pay much attention to me. To kill time the four of us had a walk around the new shopping precincts. the ones that had always been hidden behind high wooden fences when I'd been before. It wasn't at all like I remembered. The streets had been widened, the cobbles removed, old dilapidated buildings demolished and new ones built. It was neat, clean and very modem. There wasn't a sign of dark Satanic mills or the fact we were in the middle of the West Yorkshire coalfield. It was marvellous. Where Mother and Kay were standing the market there used to be 1-up, 1-down terraced houses each side of narrow cobbled streets, and the Market Hall had been a derelict bam. Now it looked just like the new technical college. Spring was more than evident in the flower beds of the Bull ring and daffodils were all over the Cathedral lawns. Everywhere was alive with colour and space and lovely clean white concrete, no grime and muck at all. It seemed friendlier too.

  'There's some great shops,' Del said in amazement.

  Davy wanted a night out and Anita was busy looking at the dress displays in the shop windows and showing all Wakefield her dimples and I had a strange feeling. It wasn't a Sheffield or Liverpool, but it had more class. In 14 years the place had come from the last century and was almost into the next. I was proud this was my town. If what I'd been thinking came true I'd put the place on the map.

  It was only 10.30 when Del pulled up outside the house and we'd been walking round town for an hour. Davy had asked if he could borrow a few quid, only for a few days he said until something comes up. It was a pleasure to give him it because it helped pay the debt I owed for the radio although I'd given it back to him. I'd no fears he wouldn't pay me back and I wasn't bothered if he did.