Bang Up: Prison walls don't just keep criminals in, the keep the outside world at bay (2 page)

Mikey was bubbling with rage, nostrils flaring. Rachel sprang up from her seat and punched her rounded fist into the air. She was going sick and ready for punching somebody’s lights out. Her voice was loud and the people in the public gallery were on edge as she booted the wall near her. “What a fucking liberty this is! He’s a kid for crying out loud! You could have given him a probation order you old cunt! He’s not been in trouble for over a year now, surely that should count for something,” she pointed her finger around the courtroom. “You’re all the same you lot, useless wankers who know fuck all about the real world. Silver spoon bastards the lot of you!”

The distraught usher ran to her side and gripped her by the arm. “You need to leave. This kind of behaviour is not tolerated inside the courtroom. Come on, leave.”

Judge Mayor’s back was up as he peered over his gold-rimmed glasses and pulled a sour expression. He was in no mood for this woman and he was ready to have her detained for contempt of court. Rachel was escorted kicking and screaming from the courtroom with the help of the two security guards. What a foul mouth she had!

Mikey Milne was up in arms and there was no way he was taking this lying down. His clenched fist pounded against the glass panel that separated him from the rest of the courtroom. He shrieked at the top of his voice. “Jail won’t break me you wankers. I’ll do this sentence on my head. Mam, don’t you worry about me. I’ll show these bastards, just you watch.” Judge Mayor sprang to his feet. He watched as the Group Four guards tried their best to deal with the convict. Mikey was throwing punches, kicking his legs out, there was no way they were taking him without a fight. “Pricks, come on, is that all you’ve got, you shower of bastards. Let’s have it.”

Sarah bit hard on her fingernails and wiped the cuff of her jumper across her eyes. She was sobbing her heart out, unable to breathe properly. Standing to her feet she screamed. “Mikey, you’re just making it worse. Please stop, please, for me, just calm down.” Her words fell on deaf ears though, there was no way he was listening to her. He was in the zone now and trying his best to break free.

Brendan Mellor stood in shock. There was no way he was making any trouble for himself. He shot a look over to his father and his eyes clouded over. He was ready for breaking down, his lips trembling. He mouthed the words “Sorry” over to his dad and his head dropped. Loud banging noises and screaming could be heard as more security guards came into the dock. Mikey Milne was twisted up in seconds. It took six of them to restrain him. Even now, when he couldn’t move a muscle, he was still shouting the odds out with his face pressed firmly to the floor. “Come on you cunts, you’ll never break me.” The journalist had her story now; a ruthless, psychotic criminal is sentenced.

Rachel paced up and down outside the courtroom, her hands ragging through her hair. She was fuming and speaking on her mobile phone. “The bastards have slammed him. Gary, I swear he’s kicking off. They’re going to hammer him once they get him into a cell. Just you watch, if they put one mark on my boy’s body I’ll sue them.” Rachel held the phone to the side of her ear and bit down hard on her lip. People were coming out of the courtroom now and there was no way she wanted them to see her like this. She took a deep breath and tried to hold back the tears. People were pointing and whispering. The phone call ended suddenly and Rachel stood waiting for Sarah. Each person that walked out from the room looked her up and down, judging her, knowing now why her son was the way he was. Rachel stood tall. If they wanted trouble she’d give them trouble alright. She’d dealt with these sorts of people all her life and, like her son, she was scared of nobody. Tilting her head to the side she placed her hand on the side of her hip and held a cocky expression. A woman was eyeballing her from the opposite side of the corridor. “Have you seen enough or do you want me to spin around for you to get a better look, you nosey cow?” She was ready for her, she was ready for them all. They were no better than her, she’d scratch their eyes out if she needed to. They were just regular people thinking they knew her story.

The courtroom door flew open and crashed against the wall. Sarah appeared, her eyes were red raw and her voice was low. “They’ve took him Rachel, they’ve took my Mikey.” Sarah’s legs buckled from underneath her as she fell to the floor. She was hyperventilating and finding it difficult to breathe. People just walked past her as if she was a big dollop of dog muck on the bottom of their shoes. Not one person stopped to see if she was alright; inconsiderate bastards the lot of them. She could have been dying for all they knew and not one of them gave her a second thought. Rachel sprinted to her side and held her tight in her arms. She didn’t need this, she had her own grief to cope with without nursing somebody else. She’d told Sarah not to come to court but she just couldn’t stay away; she was in love, totally head over heels in love with her boy.

Rachel composed herself and put her own troubles to the back of her head. “He’s going to be alright. Our Mikey will deal with them. You know he won’t take any shit from anyone. Come on, sort yourself out and let’s get home. Everybody’s looking at you. For fucks sake I don’t really need this!”

Sarah snivelled as she lifted her head up slowly, tears rolling down the side of her cheek. “What am I going to do without him? He’s my world. Nobody knows me like he does. I just want to die. Leave me here on my own, just leave me be.” Rachel shrugged her shoulders and remembered when she had been in this situation. Her own heartache had destroyed her, ripped her heart out and if she was being truthful she’d never really truly loved anyone again after it. John Pollock had been her world back in the day and when he got slammed for ten years it broke her in two; shattered her heart into a million pieces. At the time she declared she would wait for him and be faithful to the end of his sentence but in her heart she knew that was always going to be a big ask. Things change, time moves on and even with the best intentions she had to admit to herself that she was lonely and needed a man beside her. Rachel had received death threats from Johnny from behind the prison walls. Once he heard she had moved on he pledged to end her life, make her suffer. And he would too, he was a sick bastard who liked to make his victims suffer. Any time soon John Pollock would be walking the streets of Manchester again, the police had said they would inform her of his release date. Rachel pretended she was over it all but she was scared, very scared. This man was a head the ball and he would never forget what she had done to him. The sleepless nights she’d caused him, the humiliation. She was living on borrowed time.

*

Mikey was flung into a holding cell by the scruff of his neck. He was bleeding from the side of his head and thick red blood trickled down his cheek. Once the door was slammed shut he swung his leg back and booted the steel door rapidly. He made sure they all heard what he had to say too; his words echoing throughout the corridor. “Wankers, it takes six of you to put me in here. Just you wait until it’s time to get me out you clowns. You just watch, one of you is getting your jaw snapped.” Mikey let out a menacing laugh as he stumbled over to the wooden bench at the back of the room. He was wounded. His heart was racing and he was pumping sweat. He had nothing to lose anymore, he was a ticking bomb. “Argghh,” he screamed as he punched his fist into the concrete wall. Mikey had to calm down, he was going to have a heart attack if he didn’t. His face was white and his eye balls were bulging out of their sockets, he was on the edge. It was such a shame for this lad. He was a car crash waiting to happen. Life had let him down and he was a victim of circumstances, lost in the system. Just like a lot of other youths really. Nobody had ever showed him love and he was calling out for help. Mikey crashed down onto the bench and looped his arms above his head, his body still trembling. Closing his eyes, he tried to hold back the emotion he was feeling deep in his heart. This was a mess, a fucked up dirty big mess. His mother needed him on the out. What was she going to do now with him locked away for years? They would come for her as she was his only family. They would make her pay his debt. Rachel wasn’t strong enough to deal with them on her own. They were ruthless. Mikey stroked a single finger down the cold wall. Up and down it went, up and up and then back down again. He was thinking.

*

Brendan Mellor sat in his cell with his knees pulled up towards his chest. His eyes scanned around the room and he was blubbering like a big baby. He wasn’t a criminal, he had just got mixed up in something he knew nothing about, trying to impress the other gang members. Brendan had few friends and Mikey had helped him out when he was at an all-time low. He felt part of something when he was with Mikey and the boys, they had his back and nobody would ever hurt him again. Not even his father. But prison life scared the shit out of him and he wasn’t afraid to admit it. How was he ever going to survive on his own in the prison system? Mikey couldn’t protect him every hour of every day could he? He sat rubbing at his arms as goose bumps appeared all over his skin. “Mam, I want my mam,” he sobbed.

CHAPTER TWO

Rachel stormed out of the courts. She was fuming and cursing as she left the building. Sarah was behind her and she was embarrassed at the way she was acting. “Fuck them, fuck them all,” Rachel shrieked. The clouds overhead were grey and the rain pounded the pavements lashed by strong winds. Dipping her head, Rachel dodged a large puddle. “For fucks sake, every day it’s pissing down here. Come on, let’s peg it to the bus stop.” She grabbed hold of Sarah by the arm and dragged her across the road. This woman had to keep a low profile and she didn’t want to be spotted in the town centre. Her bail conditions said she could never set foot in Manchester City Centre again. The judge told her straight, she was on her last warning - either Rachel kept to her bail conditions or she went back to jail. But this woman was always a risk-taker and just like her son, she thought she was untouchable. “Have you got any money for the bus,” Rachel asked as she wiped the drops of rain dangling from her nose. “I spent the last bit of money I had on cigs before. Brassic I am, potless.”

Sarah gasped, she knew she was lying, she was always on the scrounge and would do anything to earn an extra few quid. Sarah dug her hand in her back pocket and pulled out a crisp ten pound note. Rachel snapped it out of her grip and rubbed her palms together rapidly. “Lovely jubbly, we can get home now then. I thought we would have to jib on the bus. It’s shit being skint all the time, it does my head in.”

Sarah looked her up and down and couldn’t believe she was serious regarding sneaking on the bus. Was this woman for real? She acted like she was still a teenager; she had no respect, few morals. Manchester city centre was busy today and the shoppers were out in full force. As Rachel walked past the shop windows she stopped and licked her lips slowly.  She was edgy and taking one step forward and one step back, hesitating. “Just hang on here for me, chick. I won’t be long. I’ve just got to do something. Stand at the bus stop over there and wait for me. Get under the shelter and stay out of the rain. You’ll get piss wet through otherwise.” Sarah was just about to say something but it was too late, Rachel had gone.

As she walked into the store, Rachel clocked the security guard to the left of her, she had an eye for detail when she was grafting. A big guy he was, a porker. Just there for show really. He would never have caught her if it came to a chase. She would have dusted him if it came on top. Pulling her coat up over her long thin neck, she headed up the escalator to the women’s department. This was going to be a hard graft. She had no bags with her, no other way of concealing anything she stole. Yes, she could shove it in her coat but that was so on top and not the way she worked. It was back to basics. Rachel liked working alone, she was straight in and out of any store she shoplifted. She was fast and very rarely got spotted. It was all about being confident and in her day Rachel had more of that than anyone, she was a barefaced criminal. Walking over to a pile of jeans, she quickly picked up five pairs and casually walked around the store holding them in her hand. There wasn’t a second to spare, she had to be quick. Wasting time would bring attention on her, raise doubts that she was up to no good. Rachel entered a changing room with haste.

The assistant stood smiling at her and looked her up and down. She wasn’t the usual type of customer she was used to and she approached her with caution. “How many items are you trying on Miss?”

Rachel kept her cool and made sure there was no way the young girl could see how many garments she was carrying. “Just two chick, which changing room is free?” Rachel wasn’t hanging about, she headed straight into the changing room before the woman got a chance to check what she was holding. Rachel sat inside the changing rooms and pulled the alarms from three pair of jeans. She always had the tool to get the alarm off on her, she never went anywhere without it. The alarms were yanked off in seconds. Rachel quickly grabbed a price tag and smirked at it. She could get twenty pound a pair for these jeans all day long. Half price was what she charged for most of the goods, it was the going rate and very few people ever moaned about the price. People loved a bargain and even the rich were always willing to get stuff on the cheap. She had a few buyers already who bought in bulk and she rarely struggled to sell her knocked off gear.

Lifting her head up, Rachel clocked her reflection in the long mirror in front of her. Slowly she stroked underneath her eye with the tip of her finger and pulled at the baggy skin. She’d aged so much over the last few years and any good looks she once had were long gone. She was haggard. Her once pearly white teeth had crumbled away and all that was left were brown stumps, decayed teeth and stale breath. Rachel scooped her thin greasy hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ears trying to smarten herself up. Staring at her reflection, her heart sank. What on earth had happened to her? She’d let herself go big time. Rachel gnawed at the end of her thumb. This was no time to be having regrets about how her life had panned out, she had a job to do. Rolling the garments up tightly, she shoved them down the front of her pants, tucking them neatly beneath her knickers. Standing in the mirror she turned from side to side making sure nobody could see them. Rachel yanked her coat down over the top of her sparrow legs and picked up the remaining garments. She gave herself one last look in the mirror. Taking a deep breath, she was ready to leave. Her hands were shaking as she unlocked the door. Calm down girl, calm down, she told herself. A few steps forward and she met the eyes of the assistant. “No good these love. I’ve piled a bit of weight on recently and I don’t think my body is ready yet for skinny jeans. Maybe next time, ay. I’ll just stick to my fat arse jeans for now?” The young girl smiled. She was used to customers hating their body image and today Rachel was just another one in a long line of body haters. Rachel searched the store as she planned her escape route. Once she had the goods concealed she rarely waited around for long, she was in and out like a ninja. Her chest tightened as she shot a look over at the security guard. Did he know she was up to no good or was she being paranoid? Her heart was pumping and her palms were sweaty. “Keep it real girl, come on, you can do this,” she muttered under her breath. Rachel spotted a group of middle-aged women getting ready to leave the store and quickly hurried to stand behind them. They were chatting and never really noticed how close she was to them. Rachel tried to mingle in with them but stuck out like a sore thumb. These women were all well styled and there she was dressed like a scally, stinking of stale tobacco. It’s a wonder they never clocked her. Here it was, the moment of truth, she was nearly at the exit.