Page 25 of The Stranger in Room Six
Now I look back, I can see the signs, such as when he’d sleep in the spare room so he could ‘get some rest’ for work. Was that just an excuse to ring Karen? To tell her how much he was missing her? These thoughts drill into my mind; my whole life cast in a different light.
Somehow, I must have drifted off because I wake suddenly to an electronic click as our cell door opens. Women are outside, jostling in the corridor.
‘What’s going on?’ asks my cellmate.
A guard comes marching up. ‘Join the bathroom queue, ladies, or you’ll miss the boat. There’ll be a bell for breakfast soon and if you’re late, you’ll get a strike.’
‘You’ll hit us?’ Quickly, I step back.
‘Not that kind of strike. A black mark. Three and you lose visiting privileges.’
Everyone else seems to have a sponge bag. ‘Didn’t your lawyer tell you to bring toiletries to prison before your hearing?’ the guard asks.
I shake my head.
‘You can order one, but it will take time. Now get a move on.’
The lukewarm shower water dribbles. Thoughts whirl round my head. How are the girls going to manage at home? Will the law allow them to live on their own?
My lawyer said he’d send me paperwork so that I could give the girls access to the joint account that Gerald set up for ‘housekeeping’. Of course, we left everything to each other in our separate wills. But can a murderer’s wife inherit from her victim?
I feel too sick to eat but force myself to swallow a piece of cold toast. A woman with a shaved head and flame tattoos down both sides of her neck sits opposite, watching my every move. ‘You’re new, aren’t you?’
I nod.
‘What are you in for?’
‘They say I killed my husband.’
This woman doesn’t seem shocked like my cellmate.
‘And did you?’
‘I didn’t mean to.’
‘Hah! Sure, you didn’t. My name’s Chris, by the way. Let me get you a cup of tea.’
Gratefully, I cup my hands around the chipped mug. My hands are still cold from the shower. I take a sip. The warmth is comforting. When I finish, Chris and the other women roll around, laughing.
‘Liked your tampon tea, did you?’ one sniggers.
Have I heard her right? ‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s Chris’s present. She does it to all the new girls. She carries a used tampon in her pocket and dips it in before giving it to you.’
They’ve got to be joking, haven’t they?
‘Did you do the same to me?’ whispers my cellmate.
They grin and both of us retch.
‘And don’t think about telling the guards,’ Chris hisses. ‘There are more of us than you and, trust me, this is nothing compared to some of the things we can do. You’ll see.’
17
I’m allowed one call but after that I have to wait for my prison phone card, which will let me ring two numbers provided they’ve been checked and approved by the authorities. This can take ‘a few days or weeks’.
Scared that Gillian won’t pick up, I ring Elspeth. ‘Are you all right?’ I ask in a hushed voice; I’m in the wing office with a pimply youth officer sitting at the desk, pretending not to listen.
