Page 79 of The Dead Ex
‘Why can’t you just make an excuse?’
‘Because my wife knows all the tricks, and it won’t help us in the long run. Look, darling, if I was free, I’d be with you in a shot. You know that. We’ve got to be patient.’
‘What do you think I’ve been doing? It’s nearly a year now.’
‘Sweetheart, some things are worth waiting for. Don’t you think?’
‘I don’t know what to think any more, David. Andthat’s the truth.’
‘Then come here and I’ll show you.’
There’s silence for a minute. Then a sigh. ‘Gorgeous as you are, I’ve got to get back to work. Did you get me out of seeing the work-experience girl?’
‘I told her you were busy.’
‘Good.’
‘So when am I going to see you next?’
‘As soon as I can, sweetheart. Just leave it with me. Don’t look like that. I’ll do my best. Promise.’
‘But …’
One of the secretaries walks round the corner at that moment with a tall blonde woman with long hair and bronze skin, suggesting frequent visits to the tanning salon. ‘I really don’t need you to accompany me,’ the woman is saying crossly. ‘I’m perfectly capable of finding my husband’s own office. I used to work here, you know.’
Tanya! Quickly, I make out that I am checking something on my phoneand then head back to the water cooler.
It takes a while for Perdita to return, and when she does, she doesn’t seem so haughty any more. Her eyes are red. Her pale freckled skin is blotchy.
‘You know what?’ she sniffs. ‘I’m going to make sure you get your slot with Mr Goudman. How about tomorrow at 5.30 p.m.?’
27
Vicki
My solicitor is sitting back arms folded. ‘If we’re going to work together, Vicki, I need total honesty. No holding things back. Do you understand?
‘Sorry.’ The tablets are beginning to kick in. I’m feeling sleepy. It’s also been a long day.
‘You need to be careful. Not many former prison governors are accused of murder. They’re going to charge you. The likelihood is that you’ll goto a remand prison until the trial for your own safety.’
I shiver, remembering the claustrophobia. The constant noise, which never quite leaves you. The shouting. The loudspeaker announcements. The alarm bell. Slamming doors. The click of electronic locks.
In those days, I was in charge.
Now I’ll be on the other side of the bars.
‘The women will tear me to bits,’ I whisper. ‘You’ve got tohelp me.’
‘I’ll do my best.’
Then she goes, leaving me alone with my memories.
‘You mean to tell me that you’ve got a degree only for you to end up behind bars, looking after the likes of BillyJones?’ my dad had said all those years ago when I told him what I wanted to do after uni.
Billy had been three years older than me at school and had got life for knifing an innocent father of fourwhen he was high on heroin.
‘It’s a good career, Dad. They run this special graduate training programme. I’m not going to be a prison officer all my life. It’s where you start. Then you work your way up.’
