Part Seventy Three
The Julies had been hard at work with stiff white card, scizzors and felt tips in creating a 'leaving card' for Grayling. They had scratched their heads in what to feature on the card as their invariable recipient had been female up till now.
"I ain't sure what sort of card to do for a man," Julie Saunders complained, twirling her favourite pen with the green spiky plastic attachment.
"……especially for a…" she continued after a long pause.
"Now then, Ju, what about his 'keep fit' stuff. I've got it, what about him riding that bike of his and a slogan - 'On your bike'?" "For Gawds sake, leave that one out. That's what that there Norman Tebbit used to say to the unemployed. The drawing's fine but we'll have to come up with different words." "Eh?" asked Julie Johnson in blank incomprehension.
"Can you do me a favour, mate. Can you ask Denny to come along and help me with the artwork? She's dead talented. We haven't much time…….."
At another time and place, Grayling came up to the gatehouse for the last time as Governing Governor. His fondest and most intense memories of this place were about to be lived. "Hi, Ken," Grayling called out to the very same man who had signed him in on his first day at Larkhall. "Is it really your last day here, Mr. Grayling?" The other man asked with obvious regret. On a day like this, Grayling's sensibilities were abnormally sharpened.
"It is. It all seems strange, unreal," He confided.
"Well, all the lads are going to miss you for a start. You've made a difference to this place." "Why thank you," Grayling called out cheerily. Inwardly, he was touched by the simple compliment. When he came here, he had been instructed by Area to shake this prison out of its complacency and to force through changes at a blinding speed. He had set out to be tough and had never thought in terms of personal popularity. He had gradually changed over the months to the man he is now but it had never occurred to him that one day, he would be missed. Something held him back in getting all emotional and so he hit upon his own way of expressing how he felt.
"Well, if any strange cyclists come up to the gatehouse, think carefully what you say. They might not be all that they seem." "I'll never live that down, Mr. Grayling." Grayling grinned broadly with that hint of mischief he had never been known to display before. It crossed Ken's mind that this was the first time a Governing Governor had taken the time to laugh and joke with him. Grayling shook his hand firmly and went on his way. The first goodbye, he allowed himself to think poignantly. Curiously enough, there was no one on the wing at that moment and so he threaded his way along the shabby paintwork and endless corridors back to his room. He wanted time for inward reflection before doing his farewell tour. It was funny, he thought as he helped himself to a glass of spring water, how his sensitivities had shrank from the ugliness of the place which made him feel defiled. That was his surface impression. His feelings became nightmarish as the full twisted nature of the place seemed to cast a jinx on him. Whatever snap decision he made seemed to take some malevolent life form and come back to mock him. A whole series of Wing Governors pirouetted before his eyes in some demonic dance of death with him at the centre of affairs. The phone call from area from time to time had made him squirm in his chair far too often for his liking. As for the prisoners, they seemed to be walk on parts in the general conspiracy against him. All he had ever wanted was for deliverance to the part of area which was the most cutting edge in the radical ideas that the prison service desperately wanted. So what had changed so that, instinctively, without any ideological framework, he had come to feel centred and in control? He had not taken the time for reflection. The ideas came off the top of his head in rapid succession, Fenner no longer being here, the transformation in his relationship with Karen, Di Barker being taken off G Wing and that everyone started acting like human beings, himself included. Grayling looked around his very bare office. It had been stripped of all his personal belongings which had been packed up into a big orange skip and labelled to reach his new place of work, it looked bare and without any personality, most of all, his own. He picked up one of his well-thumbed books on management in a neglected corner of his office, glanced at it and none of it made the sense that it once had. He had read it from cover to cover and though it talked about developing human potential, it was all abstract and unreal. He was about to dump it in the bin until, on second thoughts, he edged it into a corner of the crate and resolved to put it through the shredder at his new place of work.
It came to his mind that he would become the new boy, a small fish in a very large pool in the remote offices of Cleland House. Everything that he had got to know about the practicalities of running a prison would be what he would be taking with him besides pin trays and photographs.
A part of him didn't want to go but he firmly suppressed that thought. It wasn't the soft sentimentality that he once despised but the realisation that his time was passing. It was time to make way for Karen and his final performance would be a duty and a pleasure. It was his last gift to her. He drained his glass of water and strode out to start to say his farewells, subconsciously leaving G wing till last.
A couple of hours later, Grayling returned to his room having shaken endless hands, been wished all the best and stood in front of group after group of prison officers and repeated the standard sentiments expected of such an occasion. His smile had stretched his face muscles for what seemed like hours upon end and it had all gone into one big blur. He ended up with a carrier bag full of very tasteful presents and large, expensive cards with lots of signatures and everything flowed along on a vague flow of bonhomie. He knew the score as he had been to many leaving receptions for other prison officers and governors who had transferred or retired. The scripts unconsciously repeated themselves, not that he didn't feel well disposed to the well wishers.
One jarring moment of reality was like a bucket of water thrown in his face.
"So you finally got what you always wanted," Di's venomous voice caught him in an empty corridor. It took him aback but something in him seemed to rise to the cheap words more worthy of a second rate soap opera.
"You're wrong, Di, as usual. I really did want to climb the ladder of success and I didn't care what happened to those who worked for me. Now I've got that promotion, I'll be able to help them from a distance. Karen Betts is perfectly able to do my job as you will find out." "Mr. Principle," Sneered Di, angered by Grayling's smirk. "I'm sure you'll tell your latest boyfriend all that high minded rubbish. Only you know and I know what your mucky past is like." "You say that to all those at the Atkins trial, the jury, the spectators, the defence barrister the judge about the part you took in the trial and most of all, Karen Betts, your Governing Governor from next week. The thing is, I've changed but it's a pity you never will." Grayling's intense scorn merged into the sort of lofty disdain that he could never manage when they were together. His spirits were curiously lightened by that last ugly scene as he walked away, leaving Di fuming in impotent rage.
As Grayling strode back into G Wing, Lauren, on lookout, gave a short whistle for the group of prisoners to crowd round him.
"What have we here?" he asked jovially, sensing the welcoming atmosphere.
"Only a little leaving card from all the girls. Ain't up to much what with all your other cards and presents," Julie Johnson said diffidently, sensing the contents of grayling's carrier bag. Grayling looked at the slightly cartoon figure of him riding a bike and the caption,"To our Favourite Gov", all the care put into the colouring and all the little individual touches to the prisoner's inscriptions. He didn't know what to say for the first time in his life. The sheer unexpectedness of the event caused a huge welling up of choked emotion in him. At an earlier time, he might have got angry or hugely embarrassed and covered it up with some clever quip, designed to put as much distance between him and his feelings but not today.
"You shouldn't have," He said gently.
"We're sorry if we've embarrassed you," Julie Saunders answered softly.
With a huge outward breath, Grayling found the answer and a big smile spread across his face as he said, "This card will stay in pride of place on my new desk in my new office. It will remind me of everything I've learned to hold dear. I can't believe you did this for me," He finished, his voice slightly breaking.
"You got Miss Betts her new job, man," Denny grinned, joining the conversation in her inimitable fashion. "Hardly that," came the self deprecating reply. "But I might have helped a little." The women smiled but said nothing as they suspected otherwise. "You all really think a lot of her don't you," Grayling added in a low, reflective tone.
"Yeah, but don't think we don't know who's backing her up. We can tell the change round here." "You're Yvonne's daughter all right," Grayling said softly in tones of real respect. The black penetrating eyes of the young woman looked him straight in the eye as Yvonne used to do. The way she spoke was a chip off the old block.
"Talking about my mum, I wanted to pass on a message that she's really sorry about the way she used to take the piss out of you. She understands now what it's all about." Grayling nodded, not sure what he should say in answer. His eye glanced at the clock and saw Karen approaching the group and he realised he had to move on.
"I'll have to go now and see the prison officers on G wing. Karen's here to collect me." He smiled, waved and headed in the direction of the PO's room.
"I suppose one good thing with grayling going is that Madam will be out of the way. I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't use the Old Boys network, serve the job up on a platter. Typical," Grumbled Bodybag, as she ignored in one breathtaking jump, the earlier years when the two of them had been daggers drawn and that Karen had been demoted for a while.
"Mr. Grayling, sir," She added a fraction too late to avoid his sharp ears hearing the remarks not intended for his ears. He smiled cynically with a meaning expression on his face.
"Don't get up. I've stood on ceremony the past few hours. Is there a spare chair for the two of us?" Dominic moved out two chairs from the back, which were then arranged in a circle. It felt friendlier now that they were sitting comfortably.
"I wanted to make quite sure that I dropped in on G wing as it has been the making of me." Some of the others blinked to hear this normally aloof man speak so frankly without any artifice. Selena, who was sitting the other side of Grayling from Karen, pulled out the large card and one wrapped up present and a second smaller thin square shaped present. He unwrapped the smaller of the presents and a smile lit his face to see that it was a CD of Haydn's 'Creation.' The second present was one, which he insisted he open when he got home.
He studied the card and smiled cynically to read Bodybag's effusive writing of 'good luck in your new job'. Which he read to mean 'good riddance.' "If I hadn't been duty bound to say a few words beforehand, I certainly am now. I could write a book on how not to be Governing Governor but also, hopefully, I now know how it should be done. There are things I've done which, looking back, I wince in embarrassment but I shall now take what I've learnt and defend my views at Area unflinchingly, whether I am popular or not. This will be repayment to Karen of her commitment to the job and honesty when she disagreed with me. The job I am going to will enable me to indirectly enable Karen, along with all your sterling support, to be unfettered in being the Governing Governer that Larkhall needs." There was a round of genuine applause at his short, sharp speech and the meeting broke into a general conversation and reminiscence about old times as these sort of meetings do. As time went on, a small part of him felt uncomfortable that the sands of time were running out for him as part of this informal gathering and that he had to move on. He finally got to his feet with the parting words.
"I've got to go, guys, but one last thought. I'm glad I never finally made this place 'no smoking' as I wanted to do." "There would have been a riot on your hands and not from the prisoners. I'll see you to the gates," Karen said dryly.
It was not lost on Karen how sensitively he felt about leaving Larkhall. A whole swirl of thoughts revolved in his head that never again, would he see the people he had come to feel at home with, even the sort of crises which he knew made him feel rooted to something real. All the prisoners he knew would stay frozen in time from the day that he is last seeing them. He would go on in his life and they would go on with theirs. A real phase in his life was drawing to an end and he would be entering a new world he had longed to be part of.
"You'll miss this place, Neil, even that some crisis has blown up somewhere. You know, that some deranged prisoner has set off a bomb that has blown up the library." Neil laughed. He knew that where he was going to work, even such a first class disaster would attract its nostalgic sheen.
"If you remember, I was flat out cold with a chunk of metal in my side and didn't wake up till I was in hospital. I have Cassie Tyler and Roisin Connor to thank for that. Even though I made a lousy speech, I did get them a free pardon, didn't I?" "You did indeed, Neil," She shook his hand firmly.
"Well, as of now, it's your prison. Look after it." For the last time, Grayling passed through the gates and took several backward glances at it. He glanced up at the prisoners block and could swear that he could see some of the smiling faces of the prisoners and the odd fluttering wave of fingertips. He blinked his eyes to see if it was real and was gratified that it was as real as anything he had now come to realise in his life. He waved back at them and Larkhall in general before turning away to drop in his keys for the very last time and signed his name on the clipboard. He suspected already that it would stay forever part of him, which was not the view he first took of the place as being just a rung on the ladder of his success.
"Well, that's the day over and it's the end of a week. I suppose that Madam will go power crazy and ask us to slave harder than ever with her do gooding ways. We had enough of that with Stewart. Remember that time when she wanted to empty the Muppet Wing and rehabilitate them. She forgot that if Dr. Nicholson put them there, they had a screw loose and needed to be locked up in a padded cell. That fire in the 3s soon proved who was right and who was wrong." Bodybag shared a drink in the smoky atmosphere of the PO social Club with Di. It was their chance for Di to catch up with the latest gossip and Bodybag's pent up grumbles and grudges to be unloaded in one go. She had been deprived of that valuable person to grumble at since Jim passed away and Di was forced out of G Wing.
"Who's going to be made acting Principal Officer now, Sylv? With your years and seniority, you ought to get it as a matter of course. "I don't know," She sighed. "All I know is that I'm not exactly favourite with Madam and I can't expect anything from her." "It would have been the case in Stubberfield's day and before Stewart first came." "Those were the days," Bodybag sighed. "We had a first rate governor till he retired. He had no truck on all that lily livered business of 'prisoners rights'. Cons were cons and that was the way he wanted it. You didn't get any backchat from them. We all stuck together so that we were supported in whatever happened. You were a prison officer and what you said mattered in any run in with any con. There was none of that 'education' which Wade got herself on through Stewart's do gooding ways. "At least we've seen the back of her." "True but as soon as one trouble maker leaves, there's ten more to take their place. It's the upbringing these days. No respect for discipline. It is let down in the home and then they run wild. By the time they come our way, there's not a cat in hell's chance of changing them. I found that out when I tried to be nice to them years ago. They kick you in the teeth." "And now we've got Miss Betts to rule the roost. Heaven preserve us." They each commiserated with the other for the way they felt mistreated. After a few drinks and comfortable seats, away from the demands of the prison wing, they both faced the journey home. As they came into the quadrangle, all was quiet and deserted.
"It's safe to go home. All the celebrations have ended. See you on Monday, Di." "Same to you, Sylv," Di called out.
Di smirked secretly to herself as Bodybag walked off down the road. Fenner had been the only one person who knew her secret, and he was gone. At least her faked miscarriage would never see the light of day.
The Julies had been hard at work with stiff white card, scizzors and felt tips in creating a 'leaving card' for Grayling. They had scratched their heads in what to feature on the card as their invariable recipient had been female up till now.
"I ain't sure what sort of card to do for a man," Julie Saunders complained, twirling her favourite pen with the green spiky plastic attachment.
"……especially for a…" she continued after a long pause.
"Now then, Ju, what about his 'keep fit' stuff. I've got it, what about him riding that bike of his and a slogan - 'On your bike'?" "For Gawds sake, leave that one out. That's what that there Norman Tebbit used to say to the unemployed. The drawing's fine but we'll have to come up with different words." "Eh?" asked Julie Johnson in blank incomprehension.
"Can you do me a favour, mate. Can you ask Denny to come along and help me with the artwork? She's dead talented. We haven't much time…….."
At another time and place, Grayling came up to the gatehouse for the last time as Governing Governor. His fondest and most intense memories of this place were about to be lived. "Hi, Ken," Grayling called out to the very same man who had signed him in on his first day at Larkhall. "Is it really your last day here, Mr. Grayling?" The other man asked with obvious regret. On a day like this, Grayling's sensibilities were abnormally sharpened.
"It is. It all seems strange, unreal," He confided.
"Well, all the lads are going to miss you for a start. You've made a difference to this place." "Why thank you," Grayling called out cheerily. Inwardly, he was touched by the simple compliment. When he came here, he had been instructed by Area to shake this prison out of its complacency and to force through changes at a blinding speed. He had set out to be tough and had never thought in terms of personal popularity. He had gradually changed over the months to the man he is now but it had never occurred to him that one day, he would be missed. Something held him back in getting all emotional and so he hit upon his own way of expressing how he felt.
"Well, if any strange cyclists come up to the gatehouse, think carefully what you say. They might not be all that they seem." "I'll never live that down, Mr. Grayling." Grayling grinned broadly with that hint of mischief he had never been known to display before. It crossed Ken's mind that this was the first time a Governing Governor had taken the time to laugh and joke with him. Grayling shook his hand firmly and went on his way. The first goodbye, he allowed himself to think poignantly. Curiously enough, there was no one on the wing at that moment and so he threaded his way along the shabby paintwork and endless corridors back to his room. He wanted time for inward reflection before doing his farewell tour. It was funny, he thought as he helped himself to a glass of spring water, how his sensitivities had shrank from the ugliness of the place which made him feel defiled. That was his surface impression. His feelings became nightmarish as the full twisted nature of the place seemed to cast a jinx on him. Whatever snap decision he made seemed to take some malevolent life form and come back to mock him. A whole series of Wing Governors pirouetted before his eyes in some demonic dance of death with him at the centre of affairs. The phone call from area from time to time had made him squirm in his chair far too often for his liking. As for the prisoners, they seemed to be walk on parts in the general conspiracy against him. All he had ever wanted was for deliverance to the part of area which was the most cutting edge in the radical ideas that the prison service desperately wanted. So what had changed so that, instinctively, without any ideological framework, he had come to feel centred and in control? He had not taken the time for reflection. The ideas came off the top of his head in rapid succession, Fenner no longer being here, the transformation in his relationship with Karen, Di Barker being taken off G Wing and that everyone started acting like human beings, himself included. Grayling looked around his very bare office. It had been stripped of all his personal belongings which had been packed up into a big orange skip and labelled to reach his new place of work, it looked bare and without any personality, most of all, his own. He picked up one of his well-thumbed books on management in a neglected corner of his office, glanced at it and none of it made the sense that it once had. He had read it from cover to cover and though it talked about developing human potential, it was all abstract and unreal. He was about to dump it in the bin until, on second thoughts, he edged it into a corner of the crate and resolved to put it through the shredder at his new place of work.
It came to his mind that he would become the new boy, a small fish in a very large pool in the remote offices of Cleland House. Everything that he had got to know about the practicalities of running a prison would be what he would be taking with him besides pin trays and photographs.
A part of him didn't want to go but he firmly suppressed that thought. It wasn't the soft sentimentality that he once despised but the realisation that his time was passing. It was time to make way for Karen and his final performance would be a duty and a pleasure. It was his last gift to her. He drained his glass of water and strode out to start to say his farewells, subconsciously leaving G wing till last.
A couple of hours later, Grayling returned to his room having shaken endless hands, been wished all the best and stood in front of group after group of prison officers and repeated the standard sentiments expected of such an occasion. His smile had stretched his face muscles for what seemed like hours upon end and it had all gone into one big blur. He ended up with a carrier bag full of very tasteful presents and large, expensive cards with lots of signatures and everything flowed along on a vague flow of bonhomie. He knew the score as he had been to many leaving receptions for other prison officers and governors who had transferred or retired. The scripts unconsciously repeated themselves, not that he didn't feel well disposed to the well wishers.
One jarring moment of reality was like a bucket of water thrown in his face.
"So you finally got what you always wanted," Di's venomous voice caught him in an empty corridor. It took him aback but something in him seemed to rise to the cheap words more worthy of a second rate soap opera.
"You're wrong, Di, as usual. I really did want to climb the ladder of success and I didn't care what happened to those who worked for me. Now I've got that promotion, I'll be able to help them from a distance. Karen Betts is perfectly able to do my job as you will find out." "Mr. Principle," Sneered Di, angered by Grayling's smirk. "I'm sure you'll tell your latest boyfriend all that high minded rubbish. Only you know and I know what your mucky past is like." "You say that to all those at the Atkins trial, the jury, the spectators, the defence barrister the judge about the part you took in the trial and most of all, Karen Betts, your Governing Governor from next week. The thing is, I've changed but it's a pity you never will." Grayling's intense scorn merged into the sort of lofty disdain that he could never manage when they were together. His spirits were curiously lightened by that last ugly scene as he walked away, leaving Di fuming in impotent rage.
As Grayling strode back into G Wing, Lauren, on lookout, gave a short whistle for the group of prisoners to crowd round him.
"What have we here?" he asked jovially, sensing the welcoming atmosphere.
"Only a little leaving card from all the girls. Ain't up to much what with all your other cards and presents," Julie Johnson said diffidently, sensing the contents of grayling's carrier bag. Grayling looked at the slightly cartoon figure of him riding a bike and the caption,"To our Favourite Gov", all the care put into the colouring and all the little individual touches to the prisoner's inscriptions. He didn't know what to say for the first time in his life. The sheer unexpectedness of the event caused a huge welling up of choked emotion in him. At an earlier time, he might have got angry or hugely embarrassed and covered it up with some clever quip, designed to put as much distance between him and his feelings but not today.
"You shouldn't have," He said gently.
"We're sorry if we've embarrassed you," Julie Saunders answered softly.
With a huge outward breath, Grayling found the answer and a big smile spread across his face as he said, "This card will stay in pride of place on my new desk in my new office. It will remind me of everything I've learned to hold dear. I can't believe you did this for me," He finished, his voice slightly breaking.
"You got Miss Betts her new job, man," Denny grinned, joining the conversation in her inimitable fashion. "Hardly that," came the self deprecating reply. "But I might have helped a little." The women smiled but said nothing as they suspected otherwise. "You all really think a lot of her don't you," Grayling added in a low, reflective tone.
"Yeah, but don't think we don't know who's backing her up. We can tell the change round here." "You're Yvonne's daughter all right," Grayling said softly in tones of real respect. The black penetrating eyes of the young woman looked him straight in the eye as Yvonne used to do. The way she spoke was a chip off the old block.
"Talking about my mum, I wanted to pass on a message that she's really sorry about the way she used to take the piss out of you. She understands now what it's all about." Grayling nodded, not sure what he should say in answer. His eye glanced at the clock and saw Karen approaching the group and he realised he had to move on.
"I'll have to go now and see the prison officers on G wing. Karen's here to collect me." He smiled, waved and headed in the direction of the PO's room.
"I suppose one good thing with grayling going is that Madam will be out of the way. I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't use the Old Boys network, serve the job up on a platter. Typical," Grumbled Bodybag, as she ignored in one breathtaking jump, the earlier years when the two of them had been daggers drawn and that Karen had been demoted for a while.
"Mr. Grayling, sir," She added a fraction too late to avoid his sharp ears hearing the remarks not intended for his ears. He smiled cynically with a meaning expression on his face.
"Don't get up. I've stood on ceremony the past few hours. Is there a spare chair for the two of us?" Dominic moved out two chairs from the back, which were then arranged in a circle. It felt friendlier now that they were sitting comfortably.
"I wanted to make quite sure that I dropped in on G wing as it has been the making of me." Some of the others blinked to hear this normally aloof man speak so frankly without any artifice. Selena, who was sitting the other side of Grayling from Karen, pulled out the large card and one wrapped up present and a second smaller thin square shaped present. He unwrapped the smaller of the presents and a smile lit his face to see that it was a CD of Haydn's 'Creation.' The second present was one, which he insisted he open when he got home.
He studied the card and smiled cynically to read Bodybag's effusive writing of 'good luck in your new job'. Which he read to mean 'good riddance.' "If I hadn't been duty bound to say a few words beforehand, I certainly am now. I could write a book on how not to be Governing Governor but also, hopefully, I now know how it should be done. There are things I've done which, looking back, I wince in embarrassment but I shall now take what I've learnt and defend my views at Area unflinchingly, whether I am popular or not. This will be repayment to Karen of her commitment to the job and honesty when she disagreed with me. The job I am going to will enable me to indirectly enable Karen, along with all your sterling support, to be unfettered in being the Governing Governer that Larkhall needs." There was a round of genuine applause at his short, sharp speech and the meeting broke into a general conversation and reminiscence about old times as these sort of meetings do. As time went on, a small part of him felt uncomfortable that the sands of time were running out for him as part of this informal gathering and that he had to move on. He finally got to his feet with the parting words.
"I've got to go, guys, but one last thought. I'm glad I never finally made this place 'no smoking' as I wanted to do." "There would have been a riot on your hands and not from the prisoners. I'll see you to the gates," Karen said dryly.
It was not lost on Karen how sensitively he felt about leaving Larkhall. A whole swirl of thoughts revolved in his head that never again, would he see the people he had come to feel at home with, even the sort of crises which he knew made him feel rooted to something real. All the prisoners he knew would stay frozen in time from the day that he is last seeing them. He would go on in his life and they would go on with theirs. A real phase in his life was drawing to an end and he would be entering a new world he had longed to be part of.
"You'll miss this place, Neil, even that some crisis has blown up somewhere. You know, that some deranged prisoner has set off a bomb that has blown up the library." Neil laughed. He knew that where he was going to work, even such a first class disaster would attract its nostalgic sheen.
"If you remember, I was flat out cold with a chunk of metal in my side and didn't wake up till I was in hospital. I have Cassie Tyler and Roisin Connor to thank for that. Even though I made a lousy speech, I did get them a free pardon, didn't I?" "You did indeed, Neil," She shook his hand firmly.
"Well, as of now, it's your prison. Look after it." For the last time, Grayling passed through the gates and took several backward glances at it. He glanced up at the prisoners block and could swear that he could see some of the smiling faces of the prisoners and the odd fluttering wave of fingertips. He blinked his eyes to see if it was real and was gratified that it was as real as anything he had now come to realise in his life. He waved back at them and Larkhall in general before turning away to drop in his keys for the very last time and signed his name on the clipboard. He suspected already that it would stay forever part of him, which was not the view he first took of the place as being just a rung on the ladder of his success.
"Well, that's the day over and it's the end of a week. I suppose that Madam will go power crazy and ask us to slave harder than ever with her do gooding ways. We had enough of that with Stewart. Remember that time when she wanted to empty the Muppet Wing and rehabilitate them. She forgot that if Dr. Nicholson put them there, they had a screw loose and needed to be locked up in a padded cell. That fire in the 3s soon proved who was right and who was wrong." Bodybag shared a drink in the smoky atmosphere of the PO social Club with Di. It was their chance for Di to catch up with the latest gossip and Bodybag's pent up grumbles and grudges to be unloaded in one go. She had been deprived of that valuable person to grumble at since Jim passed away and Di was forced out of G Wing.
"Who's going to be made acting Principal Officer now, Sylv? With your years and seniority, you ought to get it as a matter of course. "I don't know," She sighed. "All I know is that I'm not exactly favourite with Madam and I can't expect anything from her." "It would have been the case in Stubberfield's day and before Stewart first came." "Those were the days," Bodybag sighed. "We had a first rate governor till he retired. He had no truck on all that lily livered business of 'prisoners rights'. Cons were cons and that was the way he wanted it. You didn't get any backchat from them. We all stuck together so that we were supported in whatever happened. You were a prison officer and what you said mattered in any run in with any con. There was none of that 'education' which Wade got herself on through Stewart's do gooding ways. "At least we've seen the back of her." "True but as soon as one trouble maker leaves, there's ten more to take their place. It's the upbringing these days. No respect for discipline. It is let down in the home and then they run wild. By the time they come our way, there's not a cat in hell's chance of changing them. I found that out when I tried to be nice to them years ago. They kick you in the teeth." "And now we've got Miss Betts to rule the roost. Heaven preserve us." They each commiserated with the other for the way they felt mistreated. After a few drinks and comfortable seats, away from the demands of the prison wing, they both faced the journey home. As they came into the quadrangle, all was quiet and deserted.
"It's safe to go home. All the celebrations have ended. See you on Monday, Di." "Same to you, Sylv," Di called out.
Di smirked secretly to herself as Bodybag walked off down the road. Fenner had been the only one person who knew her secret, and he was gone. At least her faked miscarriage would never see the light of day.