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

by Karen Woods

  Rachel composed herself and put her own troubles to the back of her head. “He’s going to be alright. Our Mikey will deal with them. You know he won’t take any shit from anyone. Come on, sort yourself out and let’s get home. Everybody’s looking at you. For fucks sake I don’t really need this!”

  Sarah snivelled as she lifted her head up slowly, tears rolling down the side of her cheek. “What am I going to do without him? He’s my world. Nobody knows me like he does. I just want to die. Leave me here on my own, just leave me be.” Rachel shrugged her shoulders and remembered when she had been in this situation. Her own heartache had destroyed her, ripped her heart out and if she was being truthful she’d never really truly loved anyone again after it. John Pollock had been her world back in the day and when he got slammed for ten years it broke her in two; shattered her heart into a million pieces. At the time she declared she would wait for him and be faithful to the end of his sentence but in her heart she knew that was always going to be a big ask. Things change, time moves on and even with the best intentions she had to admit to herself that she was lonely and needed a man beside her. Rachel had received death threats from Johnny from behind the prison walls. Once he heard she had moved on he pledged to end her life, make her suffer. And he would too, he was a sick bastard who liked to make his victims suffer. Any time soon John Pollock would be walking the streets of Manchester again, the police had said they would inform her of his release date. Rachel pretended she was over it all but she was scared, very scared. This man was a head the ball and he would never forget what she had done to him. The sleepless nights she’d caused him, the humiliation. She was living on borrowed time.

  *

  Mikey was flung into a holding cell by the scruff of his neck. He was bleeding from the side of his head and thick red blood trickled down his cheek. Once the door was slammed shut he swung his leg back and booted the steel door rapidly. He made sure they all heard what he had to say too; his words echoing throughout the corridor. “Wankers, it takes six of you to put me in here. Just you wait until it’s time to get me out you clowns. You just watch, one of you is getting your jaw snapped.” Mikey let out a menacing laugh as he stumbled over to the wooden bench at the back of the room. He was wounded. His heart was racing and he was pumping sweat. He had nothing to lose anymore, he was a ticking bomb. “Argghh,” he screamed as he punched his fist into the concrete wall. Mikey had to calm down, he was going to have a heart attack if he didn’t. His face was white and his eye balls were bulging out of their sockets, he was on the edge. It was such a shame for this lad. He was a car crash waiting to happen. Life had let him down and he was a victim of circumstances, lost in the system. Just like a lot of other youths really. Nobody had ever showed him love and he was calling out for help. Mikey crashed down onto the bench and looped his arms above his head, his body still trembling. Closing his eyes, he tried to hold back the emotion he was feeling deep in his heart. This was a mess, a fucked up dirty big mess. His mother needed him on the out. What was she going to do now with him locked away for years? They would come for her as she was his only family. They would make her pay his debt. Rachel wasn’t strong enough to deal with them on her own. They were ruthless. Mikey stroked a single finger down the cold wall. Up and down it went, up and up and then back down again. He was thinking.

  *

  Brendan Mellor sat in his cell with his knees pulled up towards his chest. His eyes scanned around the room and he was blubbering like a big baby. He wasn’t a criminal, he had just got mixed up in something he knew nothing about, trying to impress the other gang members. Brendan had few friends and Mikey had helped him out when he was at an all-time low. He felt part of something when he was with Mikey and the boys, they had his back and nobody would ever hurt him again. Not even his father. But prison life scared the shit out of him and he wasn’t afraid to admit it. How was he ever going to survive on his own in the prison system? Mikey couldn’t protect him every hour of every day could he? He sat rubbing at his arms as goose bumps appeared all over his skin. “Mam, I want my mam,” he sobbed.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Rachel stormed out of the courts. She was fuming and cursing as she left the building. Sarah was behind her and she was embarrassed at the way she was acting. “Fuck them, fuck them all,” Rachel shrieked. The clouds overhead were grey and the rain pounded the pavements lashed by strong winds. Dipping her head, Rachel dodged a large puddle. “For fucks sake, every day it’s pissing down here. Come on, let’s peg it to the bus stop.” She grabbed hold of Sarah by the arm and dragged her across the road. This woman had to keep a low profile and she didn’t want to be spotted in the town centre. Her bail conditions said she could never set foot in Manchester City Centre again. The judge told her straight, she was on her last warning - either Rachel kept to her bail conditions or she went back to jail. But this woman was always a risk-taker and just like her son, she thought she was untouchable. “Have you got any money for the bus,” Rachel asked as she wiped the drops of rain dangling from her nose. “I spent the last bit of money I had on cigs before. Brassic I am, potless.”

  Sarah gasped, she knew she was lying, she was always on the scrounge and would do anything to earn an extra few quid. Sarah dug her hand in her back pocket and pulled out a crisp ten pound note. Rachel snapped it out of her grip and rubbed her palms together rapidly. “Lovely jubbly, we can get home now then. I thought we would have to jib on the bus. It’s shit being skint all the time, it does my head in.”

  Sarah looked her up and down and couldn’t believe she was serious regarding sneaking on the bus. Was this woman for real? She acted like she was still a teenager; she had no respect, few morals. Manchester city centre was busy today and the shoppers were out in full force. As Rachel walked past the shop windows she stopped and licked her lips slowly. She was edgy and taking one step forward and one step back, hesitating. “Just hang on here for me, chick. I won’t be long. I’ve just got to do something. Stand at the bus stop over there and wait for me. Get under the shelter and stay out of the rain. You’ll get piss wet through otherwise.” Sarah was just about to say something but it was too late, Rachel had gone.

  As she walked into the store, Rachel clocked the security guard to the left of her, she had an eye for detail when she was grafting. A big guy he was, a porker. Just there for show really. He would never have caught her if it came to a chase. She would have dusted him if it came on top. Pulling her coat up over her long thin neck, she headed up the escalator to the women’s department. This was going to be a hard graft. She had no bags with her, no other way of concealing anything she stole. Yes, she could shove it in her coat but that was so on top and not the way she worked. It was back to basics. Rachel liked working alone, she was straight in and out of any store she shoplifted. She was fast and very rarely got spotted. It was all about being confident and in her day Rachel had more of that than anyone, she was a barefaced criminal. Walking over to a pile of jeans, she quickly picked up five pairs and casually walked around the store holding them in her hand. There wasn’t a second to spare, she had to be quick. Wasting time would bring attention on her, raise doubts that she was up to no good. Rachel entered a changing room with haste.

  The assistant stood smiling at her and looked her up and down. She wasn’t the usual type of customer she was used to and she approached her with caution. “How many items are you trying on Miss?”

  Rachel kept her cool and made sure there was no way the young girl could see how many garments she was carrying. “Just two chick, which changing room is free?” Rachel wasn’t hanging about, she headed straight into the changing room before the woman got a chance to check what she was holding. Rachel sat inside the changing rooms and pulled the alarms from three pair of jeans. She always had the tool to get the alarm off on her, she never went anywhere without it. The alarms were yanked off in seconds. Rachel quickly grabbed a price tag and smirked at it. She could get twenty pound a pair for these jeans all day long. Half price was wha
t she charged for most of the goods, it was the going rate and very few people ever moaned about the price. People loved a bargain and even the rich were always willing to get stuff on the cheap. She had a few buyers already who bought in bulk and she rarely struggled to sell her knocked off gear.

  Lifting her head up, Rachel clocked her reflection in the long mirror in front of her. Slowly she stroked underneath her eye with the tip of her finger and pulled at the baggy skin. She’d aged so much over the last few years and any good looks she once had were long gone. She was haggard. Her once pearly white teeth had crumbled away and all that was left were brown stumps, decayed teeth and stale breath. Rachel scooped her thin greasy hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ears trying to smarten herself up. Staring at her reflection, her heart sank. What on earth had happened to her? She’d let herself go big time. Rachel gnawed at the end of her thumb. This was no time to be having regrets about how her life had panned out, she had a job to do. Rolling the garments up tightly, she shoved them down the front of her pants, tucking them neatly beneath her knickers. Standing in the mirror she turned from side to side making sure nobody could see them. Rachel yanked her coat down over the top of her sparrow legs and picked up the remaining garments. She gave herself one last look in the mirror. Taking a deep breath, she was ready to leave. Her hands were shaking as she unlocked the door. Calm down girl, calm down, she told herself. A few steps forward and she met the eyes of the assistant. “No good these love. I’ve piled a bit of weight on recently and I don’t think my body is ready yet for skinny jeans. Maybe next time, ay. I’ll just stick to my fat arse jeans for now?” The young girl smiled. She was used to customers hating their body image and today Rachel was just another one in a long line of body haters. Rachel searched the store as she planned her escape route. Once she had the goods concealed she rarely waited around for long, she was in and out like a ninja. Her chest tightened as she shot a look over at the security guard. Did he know she was up to no good or was she being paranoid? Her heart was pumping and her palms were sweaty. “Keep it real girl, come on, you can do this,” she muttered under her breath. Rachel spotted a group of middle-aged women getting ready to leave the store and quickly hurried to stand behind them. They were chatting and never really noticed how close she was to them. Rachel tried to mingle in with them but stuck out like a sore thumb. These women were all well styled and there she was dressed like a scally, stinking of stale tobacco. It’s a wonder they never clocked her. Here it was, the moment of truth, she was nearly at the exit.

  Sarah stretched her neck out as she stood at the bus stop. Rachel was so selfish and she had no thought for the way she was feeling in her time of need. She could have done with a cuddle, a few wise words of advice to help her from sinking into a deep dark depression. Sarah was like that, she let things get on top of her and she was known to be dark and moody when something was on her mind. She controlled her emotions by talking about it, even though it might have only been to herself, she liked to analyse things until she came up with an answer for the way she was feeling. Loyalty was all she asked in life and if someone let her down, there were no second chances, nothing, she was gone. Sarah could see Rachel motoring towards her. She was checking over her shoulder as she crossed the busy road, the cars honking their horns at her. She rammed two fingers up at them and sneered over at the drivers. “Piss off and watch the road, you stupid bastards.” Rachel sniggered as she sat down inside the bus shelter. Her breathing was short as she quickly swiped the sweat from her forehead with the side of her hand. “I just can’t help myself can I? I’m on my arse so I needed a quick graft to put a bit of money in my pocket. I can get some gas and electric now.”

  Sarah’s eyes were wide open, she was mortified. “What if you had got caught, don’t you ever think about going back to prison? You’re off your head you are! You’re just asking for trouble!”

  Rachel licked the edge of her front teeth and replied. “Life’s life isn’t it. I have to keep my head above water. Money doesn’t grow on trees you know. We’re not all handed it on a plate like you are Miss Fancy Pants.” Sarah watched as she pulled out the jeans. Rachel checked nobody was watching and kept her voice low. “Here, stick them in your bag until we get home. I’ll get Gary to get on the estate to sell them. He’ll easily get a score each for them.”

  Sarah was alert, her eyes were twitching. Was she now a criminal? She was handling stolen goods and if the police were to search her she would have been arrested for her part in the crime. No way was she being involved in this. Rachel could do her own dirty work. “Here, you can carry the bag then. I’m having nothing to do with it. My family would go ape if they knew I was even speaking to you, never mind being involved in any crime.”

  Rachel growled at her and rolled her eyes. Sarah was a right smacked arse and if she’d have had her own way she would have got Mikey to cart her months ago. She was so prim and proper and she never really knew what it was like to struggle for anything in her life. She was a brat, fed with a silver spoon. Rachel bagged the stolen goods up and rested it on her lap. This daft bitch was doing her head in already and she would rather sit in silence than try and make conversation with her, she was winding her up, pressing her buttons.

  *

  Mikey watched the cell door like a hawk. He was aware the guards kept lifting the hatch up and looking at him through it. He could hear the sneaky bastards. They were wary of him and he knew it. Cupping his hands around the side of his mouth he shouted in a loud voice. “Brendan, can you hear me mate, which cell are you in?” Mikey held his ear to the wall and waited for a reply. There was no answer. He looked puzzled and sat back down on the floor. Was Brendan still here or had he been shipped out already? They usually moved inmates out of the holding cells about four o’clock, surely it was that time now. He had no sense of time and he was just hoping he didn’t have to stay here much longer, he was bored shitless. Where would they send him? Which jail was he going to? Mikey sat twisting his fingers, he was edgy and wanted to know where he would be spending the next five years. Well, it wasn’t really five years exactly, he’d only serve half of it but still it was a long time to be away from the outside world. Would things change that much in his absence? Would Sarah still be waiting for him on his release date or would she move on? His girlfriend was faithful, he knew that, but time changed people and love could be lost in the blink of an eye, a click of a finger. He’d seen it happen one hundred and one times before; guys in the nick threatening to end their lives, inmates smashing their pads up because a loved one was no longer waiting on the out for them. It was selfish of him to think she would wait, he had nothing really to offer her, only what he was standing up in. He couldn’t give her the big house and car she wanted, he could give her nothing but his love but was that enough? Only time would tell.

  Standing to his feet, he walked over to the door and hammered on it with his fist, booting it for good measure. “Oi boss, what time’s tea? I’m starving in here. Any chance of a curry before I go on my travels?” Mikey smirked to himself and chuckled as he carried on yelling from behind his door. His tone changed and he was playing with them now. “Come on lads, give me a break, ay. Sort us some scran out before I go. I’m wasting away here. You know prison food is crap. Just give me a decent meal before I land in the chokey.” There was still no reply. Mikey started to sing at the top of his lungs, hoping to get some response. “When you’re chewing on life’s grizzle, don’t worry give a whistle,” he took a deep breath and pelted out the chorus. “And, always look on the bright side of life,” he was whistling and pacing his cell, dancing, wiggling his arse. Mikey froze as the cell door swung open. The guards stood warily, waiting to see if he was going to give them a hard time. They’d dealt with his sort many times before and they were ready to use as much force as necessary to get this convict out of here. Mikey licked his bottom lip and smirked at them. He stood with his back to the wall. “Evening ladies, any chance of a bite to eat. I have rights you
know.”

  One guard stood with his hand resting on the doorframe. He sneered over at Mikey and he was ready to kick the living daylights out of him if he needed to. His jaw moved rapidly as he chewed on his gum. “You’re going to Lancaster Farms, lad. The baby jail.”

  Mikey nodded slowly and casually flicked the invisible dust from the top of his shoulder. “Standard pal. I’ve been to worse places. When am I going? Is Brendan allocated there too?”

  The security guard was in no mood for chit-chat. This cocky kid was doing his head in and he wanted him gone as soon as possible. It was Friday night and he wanted an early finish. To have a few pints with his mates down the boozer. He locked eyes with Mikey. “It doesn’t matter where anyone else is going so don’t concern yourself, nosey bollocks. You’re going there and that’s all you need to know.” The man looked over his shoulder at his work colleagues and nodded. He had this under control. The other men were ready to go into the cell. One wrong move and Mikey was getting dealt with. This was how it worked behind closed doors and nobody knew the half of it. Some serious attacks had happened inside these walls but when the reports were filled out the guards stuck together, never once did they snitch on their workmates. It was the circle of trust, nobody grassed.

  Mikey flicked his eyes about the room. He was the underdog and knew he would never win when they were team handed. His expression changed and he was co-operating for once. “So, am I going now or what? No point in waiting about is there ladies?” This youth was full of himself and he was getting right under their skin. He knew what he was doing and he loved winding them up. Mikey walked towards the door and stood tall, a bounce in his step. He never flinched. Each officer was alert and aware he could strike at any minute, he couldn’t be trusted. He left the cell and didn’t look back at them once.