Dog Rose Dirt by Jen Williams

Author:Jen Williams [Williams, Jen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2021-05-19T17:00:00+00:00

25

‘There’s been a complication with today’s visit.’

Heather curled her hands around the warm polystyrene cup, watching Ben Parker’s face for a clue. Today he was all business again, no hint in his manner of the cosy lunch they’d shared, but he flashed her a slightly pained smile as they walked down the corridor.

‘Oh?’

‘An incident with another inmate.’ Seeing her look, Parker shook his head slightly. ‘Nothing serious, but alongside a bit of a cock-up with communications it’s messed up Michael Reave’s schedule. So. Now he’s in the yard for the next hour, when he’s supposed to be chatting with you.’

‘You can’t just get him out?’

‘I could,’ Parker conceded. ‘But the warden isn’t keen. If there’s one thing Reave does like to complain about, it’s his yard access, or lack of it, and the warden doesn’t want to provoke more bellyaching. So you’ve got a bit of a wait. Shall I get you another tea?’

Heather glanced down at the brown liquid in the cup. It smelled like it might have been near some tea once. ‘No. Thanks. Listen, can’t I see him in the yard?’

They had reached the door that led to the small interview room. Parker stopped, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

‘That’s very much not allowed, Heather …’

‘But it’s urgent, isn’t it? And you’ll have your guards there. Besides, he might be more amenable in the fresh air. I think it’s worth a try.’

Parker sighed. He looked tired, she realized, the skin under his eyes shadowed and thin.

He rolled his eyes at her and a small smile crept in at the corner of his mouth. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

Five minutes later Heather was being escorted down more anonymous corridors by a pair of burly men in uniform, Parker bringing up the rear. Eventually they passed through a series of gates, the clunk of locks and buzzing of various alarms ringing in her ears, until they stepped out into a bleak square courtyard. The ground was a mixture of dirt and gravel, and the grey stone walls were chipped and scratched here and there with graffiti – someone had painstakingly carved ‘FUCK PIGS’ just to one side of the door. In the centre of the shabby square was a series of large wooden planters, filled with some anonymous green bushes, and to the sides of those were two grey metal stands for cigarette butts, both of which were overflowing. The smell of stale tobacco and ash was powerful, but directly overhead was a bright square of blue sky and Heather found she was glad to see it.

‘Heather. You’re a sight for sore eyes, lass.’

Standing by one of the walls was Michael Reave. He was wearing a dark blue long-sleeved jumper and black tracksuit bottoms. His hands were cuffed behind his back, but as he moved towards her he was smiling easily enough. Outside, under real daylight, he looked somehow larger than he had earlier, more vital. In contrast to DI Parker, he didn’t look tired

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