Slammer (17 page)

'You think I don't want to work? I miss people.'

'I know.'

'You do? Do you know the kind of strain it can put on a person, being Mum all the time?'

'Not now.' Glass grabbed Caitlin's hand. She squeezed his fingers.

'Surprise, surprise. It's never the right time to talk about this farce we call a relationship.'

'It's not a farce.'

'What's a farce, Daddy?'

 
'Oh, yes it is,' Lorna said.

And he almost said, 'Oh, no it's not.' He laughed. Maybe he shouldn't have. He'd been provocative enough already. But what did a little extra provocation matter? Lorna was being completely unreasonable. He laughed again.

'Grow up,' Lorna said. 'You're incapable of taking anything seriously. Worse than a bloody child.'

'Get in the car, Caitlin. I want to have a quiet word with Mummy.'

Caitlin looked like she didn't like the sound of that. 'You won't argue?'

He shook his head.

'What's a farce?'

'Something that's fun,' he said. 'Honest.'

Once Caitlin had closed the car door, Lorna said, 'So let's hear your quiet word.'

'Don't.' Glass placed his hands on her shoulders. 'You're the mother of my child. You're my wife.'

'Jesus, that's depressing.'

'We have to try.'

'I'm trying,' she said. 'Believe me. I'm always trying. Very fucking hard.'

He let his hands drop, took hold of his wedding ring between his middle finger and thumb. Turned it. Turned it again.

'And it gets harder all the time,' she said.

She was telling him she didn't love him. Well, he knew that. You didn't sleep with someone else if you were in love with your partner. He'd forgiven her. Tried to make it work. But it seemed that neither of them could forget.

There were times when it didn't hurt, when he felt numb. Like now. And those were the best times.

'Let's go,' she said. 'The rain's getting heavy.'

*

They listened to one of Caitlin's CDs in the car. By the time they got to Kinnaird Terminal, the rain had stopped and the sky had cleared.

'I've changed my mind,' Lorna said when they got out of the car. 'I'm not in the mood to watch a film.'

'Oh, Mummy.'

'You two go on. I'll wander round the shops.'

'I already booked the tickets,' Glass said.

She opened her handbag, took out her wallet, snapped it open. Thrust a fiver at him.

He looked at her. Then he took the money.

*

Inside the shopping mall, hand in hand with Caitlin going up the escalator. He had to stand sideways, but she wouldn't let go and he didn't blame her.

He looked up to the top of the escalator. And there he was.

Waving.

A gun shot. Blood. Glass looking down at his hand, the gun in it, dropping it.

Would have been nice, but Glass didn't have the gun with him so he glowered at Watt instead.

*

'Hello, Caitlin,' Watt said when they got to the top of the elevator. He looked at Glass. 'Where's the lovely Lorna?'

Glass said, 'Why are you here?'

'Why do you think?'

'Never mind.' Glass tugged Caitlin's hand. 'We're going.'

Watt said loudly, 'I said hello, Caitlin. Very rude not to answer. Doesn't your daddy teach you any manners?'

Glass turned. 'I'm not in a mood to play games.' He leaned in close to Watt and whispered, 'So fuck off.'

'Ooooh, that's scary.' Watt looked at Caitlin. 'Scary man, your dad, eh?'

'No, he's not. You're a scary man. Daddy's right. Fuck off.'

'Caitlin!'

Watt grinned. 'Smart kid. Bigger balls than you. I like her.'

'Let it rest, Watt.'

'Okay, just tell me where I can find Lorna.'

Glass squeezed Caitlin's hand, hoped she realised he meant that she should say nothing. She did. Smart kid. Watt was right about that.

Watt said, 'Guess I'll go have a look for her, then. No tips as to where I should start?'

'Daddy, let's go.' Caitlin pulled his sleeve with her free hand. 'Daddy. The film's going to start.'

'Sorry, babygirl. I don't think we can watch a film today.'

'But, Daddy.'

'Another time.'

'Not on account of me, I hope?' Watt said. 'I'd hate to spoil your day out.'

Glass started to lead Caitlin round to the opposite end of the mall where the down escalator was situated.

Watt followed. 'Hey, you'll never guess who I got a call from.'

Glass stopped.

'My brother seems to like you. I don't know why that is. You like your dad, Caitlin?'

Glass gripped her hand more tightly.

She said, 'Ow.'

'Careful,' Watt said. 'You're hurting her. You okay, babygirl?'

'Leave us alone,' Glass said.

'I can't see anything to like,' Watt said. 'Apart from your family. Those two girls are the most attractive thing about you.'

Images of Watt's wide open mouth, the sound of him screaming, flashed in front of Glass's eyes and roared in his ears.

Glass said, 'Whatever Caesar wants, I won't be part of it.'

'I believe you,' Watt said. 'If you don't want to do what Caesar asks, that's fine by me. Generates a little bit of extra work, but that's no problem. I don't mind the work at all. Looking forward to it, in fact.'

'Right.'

'Right. Exactly. Better leave you now. I'll go find Lorna. You should help her to stop drinking, you know. Bit of a problem there if you ask me. Got to watch out for people with addictive personalities. It can be catching.'

'I am watching out for her.' Glass didn't convince himself, let alone Watt.

'Who's watching out for you?' Watt asked.

SUNDAY

Glass had checked that Lorna was okay, and settled in for the night shift. Put on his slippers. Yeah, sounds daft, but it wasn't just that it was far more comfortable: if you wore shoes, the noise woke up the inmates.

You wouldn't have thought that anybody would care about waking up the poor souls. But if they didn't sleep, they didn't behave too well the next day. So it was in everybody's interest for them to get a good night's sleep. And if you woke one of them up, he'd start shouting and banging on his cell door, and then someone else would join in, and then another and so on until the place was a deafening racket.

And they could keep that up all night if they wanted to.

The duty officer had to do a circuit every half an hour, so it wasn't as if taking a walk was avoidable. Some of the officers wore trainers, but Glass had never liked them. For him, it was shoes or slippers.

First night shift he'd done, he'd had bouts of tiredness, got heavy-lidded a few times towards the end of it. Never quite hit the point where he found himself jolting awake, but he didn't want to take any chances. Got to peg in. Miss a round and you got your arse handed to you. No second chances.

He'd learned, though, and now he took some speed before the shift started and got through it no problem.

He walked over to the kettle. Filled it, humming to himself. He'd get some strong coffee down him to top up the speed, then he'd be set.

The nightshift was a rare respite. It was good being alone. Nobody to hassle him. If it weren't for Watt being back on the scene, he'd be content. But Glass wasn't too concerned. After the incident at the cinema, he'd bought himself some time. Told Caesar he'd think about the escape plan.

He grabbed his mug out of the cupboard. Crossed to the fridge. Found some milk that looked okay but he sniffed it to make sure. He teased the lid off the container of coffee. It was one of those industrial-sized tins of cheap instant crap.

Oh, Jesus, no
.

Tears poured down his cheeks. Couldn't stop them.

He put the lid back on. Couldn't bear to look at it.

Shook the tears out of his eyes.

A joke was a joke, but these fuckers were evil. He could imagine one of the cons doing it. Peeler maybe, cause he was such a nutter. But this was one of the officers, one of Glass's colleagues.

He opened the lid again. Looked inside at the tortoiseshell kitten. Darko's kitten.

Glass put his hand inside and stroked the fur on its back. It was still warm but it wouldn't be for much longer.

The way it was lying, jaw sagging, tongue sticking out of its mouth between sharp glistening white teeth, head to the side, it was obvious someone had broken its neck.

Fox, most likely. He hoped somebody broke Fox's neck.

Glass would have to be the one to tell Darko. Shit
, shit, shit.
He considered wrapping up the poor thing in newspaper and putting it in the bin, but Darko might want to bury it and Glass didn't want to prevent him from doing that.

He'd take the kitten to him now. Get it over with. Get that coffee container out of his sight.

Jesus Christ. These fuckers were total scum.

*

Glass realised as he was walking along to Mafia and Darko's peter that he was doing exactly what he'd said to Caesar that only somebody completely stupid would do. He was going to enter a cell at night without any back-up.

But, then, it wasn't as if he was being buzzed from one of the cells. No, it was his decision. Darko would be no trouble. He never was. And Glass had made up with Mafia, so he'd be fine too. But even if Mafia decided to try to escape, he wouldn't get more than five feet outside his peter because of his eyesight.

Outside the cell, Glass wondered if maybe he should tap on the door. If walking into their peter unannounced during the day felt wrong, it felt infinitely worse to do so at night. Especially when Mafia wouldn't be able to tell who was there.

He might freak out. Start shouting. Cause a commotion.

So Glass tapped on the door.