Black Widow by Nicky Shearsby

Author:Nicky Shearsby [Shearsby, Nicky]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-03-06T22:00:00+00:00

22

I endured a restless night, concerned for Mia, dreaming of Rancock’s throat at my forthcoming mercy. I hardly slept, pacing my cell too long, staring at Elijah’s photograph, Mia’s empty bed — the darkening grey walls that threw shadows across my eyes like screaming demons. I mused over past events, wondering how things might have been different. Would Rancock have stabbed my friend if I were there to protect her? Were Pot Noodles and chocolate biscuits so bloody important? I knew Mia was unsafe if left alone, the racist taunts coming thick and fast. So, why didn’t I stay in our cell? Why didn’t I ask Mia to accompany me to the canteen?

When the cell doors were opened the following morning, I practically sprinted into the corridor, Miss Sharp’s beady eyes noticing my rush for freedom as if someone was chasing me out of bed.

‘Adams, what are you doing?’ she demanded, still in the middle of unlocking cell doors, checking all was well.

‘I need to see Mia. How is she?’ I was out of breath, out of my mind. Someone randomly threw out a comment I was worried about my girlfriend, adding a wolf whistle for effect. I wasn’t listening. It didn’t matter what the other women thought about Mia and me. She was my friend. I hadn’t had one of those for quite some time.

‘Young is in good hands,’ Sharp replied, unconcerned by my ranting or rapidly elevating heart rate.

‘Is she alive?’ It was all I wanted to know.

Sharp stopped unlocking doors and nodded blankly. ‘She’s alive,’ she said with a simple shrug before turning her attention back to the other inmates.

Thank god for that. I sighed heavily, leaning against the wall. The cornflakes I’d forced myself to eat threatening to make a second appearance. ‘Thanks, Miss,’ I offered. It was terrible timing Rancock chose that instant to stride out of her cell, mocking my emotions, threatening my sanity. She glanced my way, our eyes locking in momentary acknowledgement. I glared at her, knowing what she had done, what she was, how much I hated the smug bitch.

I didn’t know much about her other than the fact she’d apparently stabbed her brother in the top of his head with a six-inch kitchen knife because she thought he was a demon come to kill her family. She never displayed any remorse, even after her brother later died in hospital. Paranoid Schizophrenia ran in her family, going back to her great grandmothers time. Unfortunately, Rancock was not spared the indignation. According to her, everyone was out to get her. It explained the racism although it didn't condone it. She’d be lucky to ever get out of this place, her state of mind already keeping her retained at Her Majesty’s pleasure longer than her original sentence. I narrowed my eyes. To be honest, freedom wasn’t something the woman would ever have to worry her stupid fat head about if I had anything to do with it. The public could sleep safely in their beds.

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