Part Sixty-One
On Thursday February the tenth, Karen walked into work with a feeling of nervous anticipation. Her promotion board interview was scheduled for eleven o'clock that morning, and she didn't know how she was going to get through the next couple of hours. She held the usual officers meeting first thing, with them all wondering just why she was wearing what looked like a brand new, extremely professional looking suit. She told them that she wouldn't be available from ten thirty onwards, which only served to further fuel their curiosity. "You off somewhere nice?" Gina asked, observing Karen's clear inability to relax. "Nowhere particularly exciting," Karen responded, not quite meeting Gina's eye. Telling any of them about her interview, would only be tempting fate. You liar, Gina thought to herself with a little smile. But at about ten o'clock, when Karen was staring at her computer screen, running through all the possible questions she might be asked, there came a knock on her door. It was Gina, and she was carrying what looked like a flower, wrapped in cellophane. "This just got left at the gate for you." Undoing the wrapping, Karen revealed a single, beautiful red rose standing in a tiny pot. Karen couldn't prevent a broad smile from spreading over her face. Removing the florist's card from the envelope, she read the three simple words, "Good luck Darling," and knew instantly that this just had to be from George. "That's nice," Said Gina in genuine pleasure. "It's ages since anyone sent me flowers." "Yes, I was beginning to forget what they looked like," Karen said fondly. "Is it from George?" "Who else?" Quipped back Karen, Gina's insatiable curiosity making her smile. "Good luck for what?" Gina asked, taking a quick peek at the card. "None of your business," Karen said good naturedly. When the realisation of what Karen must be up to clicked in Gina's mind, her eyes widened in astonishment. "I don't believe it," She said in awe. "You're going after Grayling's job, aren't you." "You certainly keep your ear to the ground," Was all Karen could say, neither confirming nor denying Gina's assumption. "Oh, don't give me that," Gina said in excitement. "Everyone knows he's moving on, but we've all been wondering who would take his place." "Well, it's only an interview, so don't get too excited, and don't for god's sake tell anyone. I don't want the likes of Sylvia gloating if I don't get the job." "Well, just show them what you're made of," Gina said with a smile. "This place would be in good hands if you were at the top." This compliment had been very understated, but Karen knew that the depth in Gina's words was absolutely genuine. When Gina had first come to work for her, just after Jim had been stabbed, she'd been obnoxious, confrontational, and a real wild card when it came to dealing with prisoners and officers alike. But since her miscarriage, Gina had mellowed, softened, and had lost some, though not all, of her Italian temper. She had become someone whom Karen could trust implicitly when it came to managing the wing, keeping both prisoners and officers in line, and generally maintaining good practice when Karen wasn't available to keep an eye on her. "Any problems while I'm out," Karen continued. "Go to Grayling. He knows where I am. Believe it or not, it was Grayling who recommended me for the job." "Jesus," Gina said with impressed amazement. "If he thinks you're good enough, then you might just get it."
When Karen arrived outside the main headquarters of the prison service, she took a moment to glance at her reflection, before getting out of her car. She'd had her hair cut the day before, and the new suit she'd treated herself to, made her look utterly professional, with just a hint of femininity to show that she was in fact human. After briefly touching up her make up, and splashing on a little of her favourite perfume, she locked her car, and walked in through the double doors of Cleland House, in the Millbank area of Westminster. So, this was where Neil wanted to work, was it. She couldn't help thinking that these surroundings would be far more preferable to the dingy decor of Larkhall, yet without an inkling of personality. As a secretary showed her up the wide, carpeted staircase to the main boardroom, Karen wished she'd had a last cigarette before coming here. She exchanged a brief smile with the secretary as she was shown into the boardroom, needing some form of human contact before the coming ordeal. At the sight of the green baize covered table, Karen had the slightly wild thought that she was about to engage in a game of poker, with just as many attempts to derail her, as this interview would hold. Sitting on the opposite side of the table to herself, were Alison Warner, her immediate area manager, and who would be Grayling's future boss, together with the operational director, and a representative from the home office. Karen slipped a notebook out of her handbag before sitting down, which told her interviewers that she was prepared and would no doubt have some questions of her own. Declining the offer of coffee, Karen simply wanted to get on with it.
"Miss Betts," Alison Warner began. "You have been a governor of grade four rank, for just over a year. What makes you assume, that you are ready to take on the responsibilities associated with being a governor three?" Trying to quash her immediate dislike of this woman, Karen replied. "I see Governor four as a stepping stone, as the inevitable rung on the ladder that must be traversed, before I can take on the greater responsibility I am ready for. Governor grades four and five, only permit one to be a wing governor, and this I have been for some years now." "You were promoted to governor of G wing, by Simon Stubberfield, were you not?" Karen thought she could detect a hint of steel in Alison Warner's tone, and decided that this woman was not going to give her an easy ride. "Yes. I was made Wing Governor in 2000, as a result of the former wing Governor's resignation. I feel that whilst I have fulfilled my task of managing G wing successfully, I have the potential and the drive to take on more responsibility." "Yes, we'll come to that," Alison Warner said dismissively. "But first, I would like you to cast your mind back, to four particular incidents, all of which have occurred during your tenure as governor of G wing." Karen thought she knew what was coming. "The stabbing of James Fenner by an inmate, the escape of three inmates, the murder of an inmate, and the construction of a bomb by yet another inmate. Does the succession of these four incidents, strike you as the result of good management on your part?" "Whether or not my management of G wing at the time of those incidents, was or wasn't satisfactory, does not have a bearing on their actual occurrence." "But have you learnt anything from the way you have dealt with these incidents?" Asked the representative from the home office, wanting to get Mrs. Warner off one of her soapboxes. "I have learnt that not all prison officers can be trusted," Karen said a little icily, thinking of how she'd vindicated Fenner after the stabbing. "And I have most certainly learnt that if an officer makes a decision whilst I am unavailable, on holiday for example, that I must revisit their decision and make any appropriate alterations on my return." "In your current position," Broke in the operational director. "Do you see yourself as ultimately responsible for the behaviour of both officers and inmates alike on G wing?" "I believe that on a day to day basis, the buck ultimately stops with the wing governor, but that the overall responsibility for the prison clearly rests with the governing governor. I may be responsible for the behaviour of my officers, and to some extent the behaviour of my inmates, but I do not think that this ought to detract from the governing governor's having the final word. A wing governor's duty can only be extended so far." "If you were to take on the position of governing governor of HMP Larkhall," He continued. "How would your view of duty, responsibility, and the governing governor's general obligation to be at the helm, affect the way in which you might see those who worked under you?" "I would expect all my wing governors to take responsibility for the general management of their wings, as well as the continuing professional development and good practice of their officers. As regards the behaviour of any inmate, the wing governors are also responsible for any adjudications and subsequent punishments. Though I should qualify this assertion, with the fact that where an incident of transgression is particularly serious or violent, it is the governing governor's duty to oversee the way in which an inmate's sentence is extended and managed, after such an event has taken place. I have worked my way up through the prison service, starting out as a basic grade prison officer, after several years of nursing. I believe that this experience, combined with my degree in Sociology, will stand me in good stead for continuing to deal with a wide range of inmates and their problems." "How useful do you see your previous nursing experience, to the duties as a wing governor, and as a potential governing governor?" Asked the man from the home office. "Far too many officers, only see the word jailer in the job description," Karen replied, immediately thinking of Sylvia. "And whilst maintaining a high level of security is a very important aspect of the job, I do feel that any prison officer must have the mental and emotional capability to care for the inmates. I see this as the only way forward towards any form of rehabilitation. If we don't care, to some extent, about the inmates we are looking after, we cannot possibly hope to rehabilitate them in any way, and therefore, cannot entertain the hope that they will not re-offend." "But do you not see the possible risks of becoming too emotionally involved with any particular inmate's case?" This was Alison Warner back on the attack. "Of course there are risks," Karen replied, finding it increasingly difficult to keep the scorn out of her voice. "I wouldn't be worthy of my current status, if I didn't realise that there are inherent dangers in becoming emotionally involved with an inmate, and I believe that you may have misconstrued my use of the word care. Every person who becomes a prison officer, needs to care for their job, to have a vocation for caring for people, and to be able to show some level of compassion, whilst maintaining an adequate professional distance. This is not a skill that can be taught at prison service training college, but one that must be learnt over years of experience. I believe that I have learnt that skill, and that I would be able to support officers of a lower rank in learning the same." "What do you see, as the most important steps towards an inmate's rehabilitation?" this came from the operational director. "Initially, it is vital for each and every inmate to receive a detailed medical, psychological and socioeconomic assessment, in order to determine their physical and mental health, and to enable prison staff to help the inmate maintain any contact with their family, and in particular, their children. If an inmate is discovered to be addicted to drugs or alcohol, they must be provided with the relevant detox, counselling support and if necessary, cognitive behavioural therapy to help them find and hopefully eliminate the source of their problems. Currently, only inmates who are serving twelve months and over are allocated a personal officer. I would like to see this level of support accorded to all prisoners, and especially to those on remand. Over a third of all female prisoners are remand prisoners, which means that they do not receive the support, through the personal officer scheme, that they most require. Many women come to us in need of medical treatment, a substantial amount of them requiring terminations of pregnancies, and though they may be able to obtain such medical treatment, they are not provided with the emotional support that such a difficult decision demands. Why, for example, are the previous medical records of every prisoner not immediately transferred to us, when the person in question is given a custodial or a remand sentence? This should be a matter of course, not a matter of red tape, finances, and inept, outdated, organisational procedures. Over ninety percent of prison inmates have a mental health problem, and what do we do, we confine them to segregation when they become unmanageable, and leave any mental and emotional difficulties to be dealt with by their fellow inmates. I would propose a radical overhaul of the prison health system, and in particular, the provision of psychological and psychiatric treatment for those who need it. How can we expect an inmate to stay out of prison, if we don't attempt to cure their underlying problems? This brings me to my final point concerning Larkhall's inmates, education and training. Time and time again, we are told that there isn't enough money to provide adequate basic skills training for even half of the prison inmates who require it. Over half the prison population has significant difficulties with reading and writing, yet what is the continual answer we receive from both the governing governors and area management? That as education is not an essential part of prison life, such as healthcare for example, it is not being allocated the necessary funding, to make it a viable option for those inmates who do wish to better themselves. This is ridiculous! Education and training must be considered an essential part of a prisoner's rehabilitation, if we are to have any success. If an inmate became involved in crime, for the sole reason that they were unable to obtain work, perhaps as a result of a lack of simple communication skills, it is our responsibility to provide them with the opportunity to obtain those skills, and to do everything in our power to ensure that they do not re-offend. In the current situation, little if any thought, is going into the life a prisoner is likely to lead once they are released from custody. If we simply plunge them back into the life they were in prior to being apprehended, a life with no hope of a job, in many cases no home, and absolutely no prospects, all we are doing is setting them up to repeat the process, again and again and again. If I were to be given the chance to prove myself as a governor of Larkhall," Karen slackened off slightly, for a moment climbing down from her soapbox, "I would immediately begin a serious redistribution of resources, possibly a re-sorting of officers and inmates, to provide each wing with the right combination of officers. This would undoubtedly mean separating the old school officers who run to the POA at even the slightest reprimand, and segregating those inmates who currently hold positions of seniority, mainly through threats and bullying. I do my best on G wing, but I feel that this philosophy of routing out the small handful of inmates, who are intent on causing us problems, is the only way forward. A custodial punishment should mean simply the loss of freedom, not the loss of sanity, self-respect and self-esteem. Far too much bullying goes on in Larkhall, and as a wing governor, I can only do so much to combat the problem. But, if I am given the opportunity to prove myself, I believe that I can, by the implementation of new policies, make a dent in the current hierarchy among the inmates. I do not claim to be perfect, but I do believe that I have the willingness and capability to drag Larkhall in to the twenty first century, and to transform a custodial sentence into an innovative, thorough, and successful rehabilitative process."
When Karen at last became silent, the three others simply watched her. Alison Warner was forced to admit that Neil Grayling might just have something here. Karen Betts certainly made an impressive speaker. She had the style, but did she have the substance. "Miss Betts, when I spoke to Governor Grayling, almost a fortnight ago now, he said that you had the drive, the vision and the energy to make Larkhall a prison the service could be proud of. Do you agree with him?" Karen was momentarily stunned. She couldn't believe Grayling had voluntarily said something like that, about her of all people. "I think that's something I can only find out in time," She answered carefully. "But I would like to think so." The operational director smiled at her. "Larkhall is a difficult prison, Miss Betts, it always has been. If it is decided that you are the right person for the job, your task will not be an easy one." "I didn't come into this profession for an easy life," Karen replied, with an edge of defensiveness in her tone. The operational director rose to his feet. "We will let you know in due course as to our decision, though I must tell you, that your performance today was outstanding. If you do not receive your promotion on this occasion, do not be disheartened. You clearly have a lot of untapped potential, which I am sure the prison service will come to appreciate one of these days." As Karen followed him to the door, after shaking hands with the other two at the table, Alison Warner found herself briefly thinking of George Channing. Karen Betts' feisty, unabashed, confidence in her own ability was not unlike that of the barrister who had saved her skin all those years ago.
As Karen walked towards her car in Page Street, she felt a brief moment of freedom. This interview, this round with the Spanish inquisition that she'd been preparing for, was finally over. She wanted that job so badly, but she could do nothing more now. She'd done her best, she knew that. The operational director had certainly been impressed with her, and Karen thought that Alison Warner was being forced to eat her words, but that meant nothing really. On an impulse, she drove the fairly short distance from Westminster to Knightsbridge, to where George's office looked out on the paradise of all those in need of vastly expensive retail therapy. Parking her car, Karen just hoped that George wasn't too busy, and did actually want to see her. They'd seen quite a bit of each other, on and off since the trial, George becoming more confident every time they slept together. Karen was happy with what she had with George, because she was getting some utterly sensational sex with a divinely beautiful woman, without the headache of constant maintenance that a committed relationship always demanded. Walking through reception and up the stairs, Karen was relieved that it was lunchtime, and that there was nobody in reception to ask her what she was doing. As she traversed the long, expensively carpeted corridor, she remembered the last time she'd been here. It had been the day after Fenner had been killed. Jesus, they'd all come such a long way since then. When she reached the strong oak door, with the brass name plate engraved with George Channing, she could hear George's voice coming from inside. Hoping she was on the phone, and not with someone, Karen knocked. George bade her to enter, and smiled when she saw it was Karen, holding up a hand because she was talking to someone on the phone. But when George returned to her conversation, Karen was treated to something else about this beautiful woman that she hadn't previously known. Karen had no idea who George was talking to, but whoever they were, they were French. As George rattled familiarly away in this incredibly pretty language, Karen couldn't help but smile. It made a change to hear George without her gloriously upper class drawl. When George put the phone down, she turned to Karen and smiled. "I wondered if I might see you today," She said, coming over to where Karen was sitting. As Karen rose, and put her arms round George, she said, "I seem to learn something new about you every time I see you." "I quite like being a woman of mystery and intrigue," George said, kissing Karen lingeringly. "How did it go?" "Alison Warner tried to make mincemeat of me, but she didn't get very far." "Alison Warner?" George asked in surprise. "You mean the Alison Warner who works for area management?" "Yes. She might be looking over my shoulder on a daily basis very soon. Why?" "It's a small world," George said with a sly little grin. "Do you know her?" Karen asked suspiciously. "Oh, Mrs. Warner and I go back a long time, only our relationship seems to be made up of professional advice, and latterly of blackmail." "Why blackmail?" Karen asked, not liking the sound of this. "Oh, well, when you presented me with everything for that case that almost kicked area management out of touch, Alison Warner's name hit me like a slap in the face. I'd had dealings with her before, quite a while before she started working for the prison service. As you know, that case didn't ever come to anything, but that didn't mean the matter was closed. During Lauren's trial, Jo asked if I would make use of my slightly dubious contact at area management, to get her a copy of Di Barker's personnel file. So, with the help of the threat of that case that still resides in the bottom of my filing cabinet, I did." "You're very silly, the pair of you," Karen said trying not to laugh. "Why go to all that trouble, when I could have obtained a copy of Di Barker's file very quickly and very quietly." George looked very sheepish. "That possibility didn't actually occur to either of us," She admitted with a blush of utter humiliation. "Anyway, it was probably better that you didn't have anything to do with that," She finished, trying to claw back some of her self-respect. "Well, next time, try the obvious before you start breaking the law," Karen said a little sternly. "Darling, in the legal profession, blackmail is not seen as breaking the law. In fact, it's positively encouraged as a part of a barrister or solicitor's job description." "Clearly," Karen said, beginning to kiss George again and therefore silencing her. "Before I get thoroughly carried away," George said, regretfully detaching her lips from Karen's. "How did it go apart from the delightful presence of Mrs. Warner?" "Well, I think I got on my soap box a bit too much. But I suppose that might have been expected. The operational director was impressed with me, he said so. But, I'll have to wait and see." "I'm proud of you," George said quietly, looking deep into Karen's eyes. "Save compliments like that until I get the job," Karen said, not entirely comfortable with such words of praise. "All right, but you will get it, I know you will."
On Thursday February the tenth, Karen walked into work with a feeling of nervous anticipation. Her promotion board interview was scheduled for eleven o'clock that morning, and she didn't know how she was going to get through the next couple of hours. She held the usual officers meeting first thing, with them all wondering just why she was wearing what looked like a brand new, extremely professional looking suit. She told them that she wouldn't be available from ten thirty onwards, which only served to further fuel their curiosity. "You off somewhere nice?" Gina asked, observing Karen's clear inability to relax. "Nowhere particularly exciting," Karen responded, not quite meeting Gina's eye. Telling any of them about her interview, would only be tempting fate. You liar, Gina thought to herself with a little smile. But at about ten o'clock, when Karen was staring at her computer screen, running through all the possible questions she might be asked, there came a knock on her door. It was Gina, and she was carrying what looked like a flower, wrapped in cellophane. "This just got left at the gate for you." Undoing the wrapping, Karen revealed a single, beautiful red rose standing in a tiny pot. Karen couldn't prevent a broad smile from spreading over her face. Removing the florist's card from the envelope, she read the three simple words, "Good luck Darling," and knew instantly that this just had to be from George. "That's nice," Said Gina in genuine pleasure. "It's ages since anyone sent me flowers." "Yes, I was beginning to forget what they looked like," Karen said fondly. "Is it from George?" "Who else?" Quipped back Karen, Gina's insatiable curiosity making her smile. "Good luck for what?" Gina asked, taking a quick peek at the card. "None of your business," Karen said good naturedly. When the realisation of what Karen must be up to clicked in Gina's mind, her eyes widened in astonishment. "I don't believe it," She said in awe. "You're going after Grayling's job, aren't you." "You certainly keep your ear to the ground," Was all Karen could say, neither confirming nor denying Gina's assumption. "Oh, don't give me that," Gina said in excitement. "Everyone knows he's moving on, but we've all been wondering who would take his place." "Well, it's only an interview, so don't get too excited, and don't for god's sake tell anyone. I don't want the likes of Sylvia gloating if I don't get the job." "Well, just show them what you're made of," Gina said with a smile. "This place would be in good hands if you were at the top." This compliment had been very understated, but Karen knew that the depth in Gina's words was absolutely genuine. When Gina had first come to work for her, just after Jim had been stabbed, she'd been obnoxious, confrontational, and a real wild card when it came to dealing with prisoners and officers alike. But since her miscarriage, Gina had mellowed, softened, and had lost some, though not all, of her Italian temper. She had become someone whom Karen could trust implicitly when it came to managing the wing, keeping both prisoners and officers in line, and generally maintaining good practice when Karen wasn't available to keep an eye on her. "Any problems while I'm out," Karen continued. "Go to Grayling. He knows where I am. Believe it or not, it was Grayling who recommended me for the job." "Jesus," Gina said with impressed amazement. "If he thinks you're good enough, then you might just get it."
When Karen arrived outside the main headquarters of the prison service, she took a moment to glance at her reflection, before getting out of her car. She'd had her hair cut the day before, and the new suit she'd treated herself to, made her look utterly professional, with just a hint of femininity to show that she was in fact human. After briefly touching up her make up, and splashing on a little of her favourite perfume, she locked her car, and walked in through the double doors of Cleland House, in the Millbank area of Westminster. So, this was where Neil wanted to work, was it. She couldn't help thinking that these surroundings would be far more preferable to the dingy decor of Larkhall, yet without an inkling of personality. As a secretary showed her up the wide, carpeted staircase to the main boardroom, Karen wished she'd had a last cigarette before coming here. She exchanged a brief smile with the secretary as she was shown into the boardroom, needing some form of human contact before the coming ordeal. At the sight of the green baize covered table, Karen had the slightly wild thought that she was about to engage in a game of poker, with just as many attempts to derail her, as this interview would hold. Sitting on the opposite side of the table to herself, were Alison Warner, her immediate area manager, and who would be Grayling's future boss, together with the operational director, and a representative from the home office. Karen slipped a notebook out of her handbag before sitting down, which told her interviewers that she was prepared and would no doubt have some questions of her own. Declining the offer of coffee, Karen simply wanted to get on with it.
"Miss Betts," Alison Warner began. "You have been a governor of grade four rank, for just over a year. What makes you assume, that you are ready to take on the responsibilities associated with being a governor three?" Trying to quash her immediate dislike of this woman, Karen replied. "I see Governor four as a stepping stone, as the inevitable rung on the ladder that must be traversed, before I can take on the greater responsibility I am ready for. Governor grades four and five, only permit one to be a wing governor, and this I have been for some years now." "You were promoted to governor of G wing, by Simon Stubberfield, were you not?" Karen thought she could detect a hint of steel in Alison Warner's tone, and decided that this woman was not going to give her an easy ride. "Yes. I was made Wing Governor in 2000, as a result of the former wing Governor's resignation. I feel that whilst I have fulfilled my task of managing G wing successfully, I have the potential and the drive to take on more responsibility." "Yes, we'll come to that," Alison Warner said dismissively. "But first, I would like you to cast your mind back, to four particular incidents, all of which have occurred during your tenure as governor of G wing." Karen thought she knew what was coming. "The stabbing of James Fenner by an inmate, the escape of three inmates, the murder of an inmate, and the construction of a bomb by yet another inmate. Does the succession of these four incidents, strike you as the result of good management on your part?" "Whether or not my management of G wing at the time of those incidents, was or wasn't satisfactory, does not have a bearing on their actual occurrence." "But have you learnt anything from the way you have dealt with these incidents?" Asked the representative from the home office, wanting to get Mrs. Warner off one of her soapboxes. "I have learnt that not all prison officers can be trusted," Karen said a little icily, thinking of how she'd vindicated Fenner after the stabbing. "And I have most certainly learnt that if an officer makes a decision whilst I am unavailable, on holiday for example, that I must revisit their decision and make any appropriate alterations on my return." "In your current position," Broke in the operational director. "Do you see yourself as ultimately responsible for the behaviour of both officers and inmates alike on G wing?" "I believe that on a day to day basis, the buck ultimately stops with the wing governor, but that the overall responsibility for the prison clearly rests with the governing governor. I may be responsible for the behaviour of my officers, and to some extent the behaviour of my inmates, but I do not think that this ought to detract from the governing governor's having the final word. A wing governor's duty can only be extended so far." "If you were to take on the position of governing governor of HMP Larkhall," He continued. "How would your view of duty, responsibility, and the governing governor's general obligation to be at the helm, affect the way in which you might see those who worked under you?" "I would expect all my wing governors to take responsibility for the general management of their wings, as well as the continuing professional development and good practice of their officers. As regards the behaviour of any inmate, the wing governors are also responsible for any adjudications and subsequent punishments. Though I should qualify this assertion, with the fact that where an incident of transgression is particularly serious or violent, it is the governing governor's duty to oversee the way in which an inmate's sentence is extended and managed, after such an event has taken place. I have worked my way up through the prison service, starting out as a basic grade prison officer, after several years of nursing. I believe that this experience, combined with my degree in Sociology, will stand me in good stead for continuing to deal with a wide range of inmates and their problems." "How useful do you see your previous nursing experience, to the duties as a wing governor, and as a potential governing governor?" Asked the man from the home office. "Far too many officers, only see the word jailer in the job description," Karen replied, immediately thinking of Sylvia. "And whilst maintaining a high level of security is a very important aspect of the job, I do feel that any prison officer must have the mental and emotional capability to care for the inmates. I see this as the only way forward towards any form of rehabilitation. If we don't care, to some extent, about the inmates we are looking after, we cannot possibly hope to rehabilitate them in any way, and therefore, cannot entertain the hope that they will not re-offend." "But do you not see the possible risks of becoming too emotionally involved with any particular inmate's case?" This was Alison Warner back on the attack. "Of course there are risks," Karen replied, finding it increasingly difficult to keep the scorn out of her voice. "I wouldn't be worthy of my current status, if I didn't realise that there are inherent dangers in becoming emotionally involved with an inmate, and I believe that you may have misconstrued my use of the word care. Every person who becomes a prison officer, needs to care for their job, to have a vocation for caring for people, and to be able to show some level of compassion, whilst maintaining an adequate professional distance. This is not a skill that can be taught at prison service training college, but one that must be learnt over years of experience. I believe that I have learnt that skill, and that I would be able to support officers of a lower rank in learning the same." "What do you see, as the most important steps towards an inmate's rehabilitation?" this came from the operational director. "Initially, it is vital for each and every inmate to receive a detailed medical, psychological and socioeconomic assessment, in order to determine their physical and mental health, and to enable prison staff to help the inmate maintain any contact with their family, and in particular, their children. If an inmate is discovered to be addicted to drugs or alcohol, they must be provided with the relevant detox, counselling support and if necessary, cognitive behavioural therapy to help them find and hopefully eliminate the source of their problems. Currently, only inmates who are serving twelve months and over are allocated a personal officer. I would like to see this level of support accorded to all prisoners, and especially to those on remand. Over a third of all female prisoners are remand prisoners, which means that they do not receive the support, through the personal officer scheme, that they most require. Many women come to us in need of medical treatment, a substantial amount of them requiring terminations of pregnancies, and though they may be able to obtain such medical treatment, they are not provided with the emotional support that such a difficult decision demands. Why, for example, are the previous medical records of every prisoner not immediately transferred to us, when the person in question is given a custodial or a remand sentence? This should be a matter of course, not a matter of red tape, finances, and inept, outdated, organisational procedures. Over ninety percent of prison inmates have a mental health problem, and what do we do, we confine them to segregation when they become unmanageable, and leave any mental and emotional difficulties to be dealt with by their fellow inmates. I would propose a radical overhaul of the prison health system, and in particular, the provision of psychological and psychiatric treatment for those who need it. How can we expect an inmate to stay out of prison, if we don't attempt to cure their underlying problems? This brings me to my final point concerning Larkhall's inmates, education and training. Time and time again, we are told that there isn't enough money to provide adequate basic skills training for even half of the prison inmates who require it. Over half the prison population has significant difficulties with reading and writing, yet what is the continual answer we receive from both the governing governors and area management? That as education is not an essential part of prison life, such as healthcare for example, it is not being allocated the necessary funding, to make it a viable option for those inmates who do wish to better themselves. This is ridiculous! Education and training must be considered an essential part of a prisoner's rehabilitation, if we are to have any success. If an inmate became involved in crime, for the sole reason that they were unable to obtain work, perhaps as a result of a lack of simple communication skills, it is our responsibility to provide them with the opportunity to obtain those skills, and to do everything in our power to ensure that they do not re-offend. In the current situation, little if any thought, is going into the life a prisoner is likely to lead once they are released from custody. If we simply plunge them back into the life they were in prior to being apprehended, a life with no hope of a job, in many cases no home, and absolutely no prospects, all we are doing is setting them up to repeat the process, again and again and again. If I were to be given the chance to prove myself as a governor of Larkhall," Karen slackened off slightly, for a moment climbing down from her soapbox, "I would immediately begin a serious redistribution of resources, possibly a re-sorting of officers and inmates, to provide each wing with the right combination of officers. This would undoubtedly mean separating the old school officers who run to the POA at even the slightest reprimand, and segregating those inmates who currently hold positions of seniority, mainly through threats and bullying. I do my best on G wing, but I feel that this philosophy of routing out the small handful of inmates, who are intent on causing us problems, is the only way forward. A custodial punishment should mean simply the loss of freedom, not the loss of sanity, self-respect and self-esteem. Far too much bullying goes on in Larkhall, and as a wing governor, I can only do so much to combat the problem. But, if I am given the opportunity to prove myself, I believe that I can, by the implementation of new policies, make a dent in the current hierarchy among the inmates. I do not claim to be perfect, but I do believe that I have the willingness and capability to drag Larkhall in to the twenty first century, and to transform a custodial sentence into an innovative, thorough, and successful rehabilitative process."
When Karen at last became silent, the three others simply watched her. Alison Warner was forced to admit that Neil Grayling might just have something here. Karen Betts certainly made an impressive speaker. She had the style, but did she have the substance. "Miss Betts, when I spoke to Governor Grayling, almost a fortnight ago now, he said that you had the drive, the vision and the energy to make Larkhall a prison the service could be proud of. Do you agree with him?" Karen was momentarily stunned. She couldn't believe Grayling had voluntarily said something like that, about her of all people. "I think that's something I can only find out in time," She answered carefully. "But I would like to think so." The operational director smiled at her. "Larkhall is a difficult prison, Miss Betts, it always has been. If it is decided that you are the right person for the job, your task will not be an easy one." "I didn't come into this profession for an easy life," Karen replied, with an edge of defensiveness in her tone. The operational director rose to his feet. "We will let you know in due course as to our decision, though I must tell you, that your performance today was outstanding. If you do not receive your promotion on this occasion, do not be disheartened. You clearly have a lot of untapped potential, which I am sure the prison service will come to appreciate one of these days." As Karen followed him to the door, after shaking hands with the other two at the table, Alison Warner found herself briefly thinking of George Channing. Karen Betts' feisty, unabashed, confidence in her own ability was not unlike that of the barrister who had saved her skin all those years ago.
As Karen walked towards her car in Page Street, she felt a brief moment of freedom. This interview, this round with the Spanish inquisition that she'd been preparing for, was finally over. She wanted that job so badly, but she could do nothing more now. She'd done her best, she knew that. The operational director had certainly been impressed with her, and Karen thought that Alison Warner was being forced to eat her words, but that meant nothing really. On an impulse, she drove the fairly short distance from Westminster to Knightsbridge, to where George's office looked out on the paradise of all those in need of vastly expensive retail therapy. Parking her car, Karen just hoped that George wasn't too busy, and did actually want to see her. They'd seen quite a bit of each other, on and off since the trial, George becoming more confident every time they slept together. Karen was happy with what she had with George, because she was getting some utterly sensational sex with a divinely beautiful woman, without the headache of constant maintenance that a committed relationship always demanded. Walking through reception and up the stairs, Karen was relieved that it was lunchtime, and that there was nobody in reception to ask her what she was doing. As she traversed the long, expensively carpeted corridor, she remembered the last time she'd been here. It had been the day after Fenner had been killed. Jesus, they'd all come such a long way since then. When she reached the strong oak door, with the brass name plate engraved with George Channing, she could hear George's voice coming from inside. Hoping she was on the phone, and not with someone, Karen knocked. George bade her to enter, and smiled when she saw it was Karen, holding up a hand because she was talking to someone on the phone. But when George returned to her conversation, Karen was treated to something else about this beautiful woman that she hadn't previously known. Karen had no idea who George was talking to, but whoever they were, they were French. As George rattled familiarly away in this incredibly pretty language, Karen couldn't help but smile. It made a change to hear George without her gloriously upper class drawl. When George put the phone down, she turned to Karen and smiled. "I wondered if I might see you today," She said, coming over to where Karen was sitting. As Karen rose, and put her arms round George, she said, "I seem to learn something new about you every time I see you." "I quite like being a woman of mystery and intrigue," George said, kissing Karen lingeringly. "How did it go?" "Alison Warner tried to make mincemeat of me, but she didn't get very far." "Alison Warner?" George asked in surprise. "You mean the Alison Warner who works for area management?" "Yes. She might be looking over my shoulder on a daily basis very soon. Why?" "It's a small world," George said with a sly little grin. "Do you know her?" Karen asked suspiciously. "Oh, Mrs. Warner and I go back a long time, only our relationship seems to be made up of professional advice, and latterly of blackmail." "Why blackmail?" Karen asked, not liking the sound of this. "Oh, well, when you presented me with everything for that case that almost kicked area management out of touch, Alison Warner's name hit me like a slap in the face. I'd had dealings with her before, quite a while before she started working for the prison service. As you know, that case didn't ever come to anything, but that didn't mean the matter was closed. During Lauren's trial, Jo asked if I would make use of my slightly dubious contact at area management, to get her a copy of Di Barker's personnel file. So, with the help of the threat of that case that still resides in the bottom of my filing cabinet, I did." "You're very silly, the pair of you," Karen said trying not to laugh. "Why go to all that trouble, when I could have obtained a copy of Di Barker's file very quickly and very quietly." George looked very sheepish. "That possibility didn't actually occur to either of us," She admitted with a blush of utter humiliation. "Anyway, it was probably better that you didn't have anything to do with that," She finished, trying to claw back some of her self-respect. "Well, next time, try the obvious before you start breaking the law," Karen said a little sternly. "Darling, in the legal profession, blackmail is not seen as breaking the law. In fact, it's positively encouraged as a part of a barrister or solicitor's job description." "Clearly," Karen said, beginning to kiss George again and therefore silencing her. "Before I get thoroughly carried away," George said, regretfully detaching her lips from Karen's. "How did it go apart from the delightful presence of Mrs. Warner?" "Well, I think I got on my soap box a bit too much. But I suppose that might have been expected. The operational director was impressed with me, he said so. But, I'll have to wait and see." "I'm proud of you," George said quietly, looking deep into Karen's eyes. "Save compliments like that until I get the job," Karen said, not entirely comfortable with such words of praise. "All right, but you will get it, I know you will."