THIRTY-EIGHT

Jimmy the Fish walked into the seedy backstreet bar and spotted Kiki immediately. With her six-foot frame, she stood out like a sore thumb and reminded him of a young Grace Jones.

Kiki, whose real name was Susan Brown, kissed Jimmy on the cheek, linked her arm in his and led him to a quiet table at the back of the bar where they wouldn't be disturbed.

Calling out to a waitress to bring over a couple of drinks, Jimmy smiled at her. 'It all went smoothly then, eh, babe?'

Kiki took a sip of her gin and tonic and grinned broadly. 'Everything went to plan. You were right, he was an easy touch.' Fishing into her Dior handbag, Kiki pulled out a large brown envelope and handed it to him.

Checking the ten grand was all intact, Jimmy reeled off a grand and handed it back to her. 'Good work, darling. Did you have to shag him?'

Kiki stuffed the cash into her purse and grinned. 'That's for me to know and you to find out.'

Jimmy finished his drink, kissed her goodbye and climbed into the newly purchased Jaguar that he'd left parked nearby. Putting his Sinatra CD on at full blast, Jimmy smiled to himself as he sang along. Ol' Blue Eyes was his hero. Jimmy liked it when things went to plan and this latest one had worked like a dream. He'd known Susan, aka Kiki, for years. She was a good girl and a bloody good actress. He trusted her implicitly. When called upon, she always did a good job for him. He'd had no choice but to set Danny up good and proper. The way he'd been performing lately, Jimmy had been left with no other option.

Deep down Jimmy was gutted. At one time he'd thought of Danny as a surrogate son. When the lad had done the bit of bird for him, Jimmy had expected to be eternally grateful. Lately, though, Danny had fucked up big style and Jimmy now knew he had to get rid of him before the boy got the whole lot of them nicked.

Jimmy had tried over and over again to make Danny see sense, but he may as well have been talking to a brick wall. Danny was too far gone, the gear he was shoving up his nose had taken hold of him and the boy was on a one-way trip to hell. Jimmy had needed an excuse to drop him from the fold and yesterday's set-up was perfect. He'd made Leon drag Danny to the bar where Kiki was dancing. Kiki had been told to hit on the geezer with Leon and to go home with him and stay the night. Today's lunchtime meeting in the Cross Keys was a set-up as well, that's why Jimmy hadn't turned up. He'd just wanted Danny out of the flat so Kiki could sift through and find the cash that Jimmy knew was hidden there.

The whole turnout was such a fucking tragedy and Jimmy planned to let the lad down as gently as possible. He had no choice, Danny knew too much.

'That's life – that's what all the people say; you're ridin' high in April, shot down in May.' Jimmy sang along to his favourite song as he pulled up outside Danny's flat. He was dreading delivering the bad news, but in business you had to be ruthless.

Billie Jo was stirring the bolognese sauce when she felt Jamie's strong arms around her waist. 'What's the matter, babe? You're not your normal chirpy self.'

Billie put the wooden spoon on the side as he hugged her tightly. 'I'm just worried about my mum, Jamie.'

Jamie smoothed her hair back off her forehead. 'Look, your mum's a lot stronger than you think. She ain't no mug, she'll look after herself, you'll see.'

Billie took a deep breath and gave a worried sigh. 'I hope you're right, I thought she would have rung me by now. You're allowed phone calls in there, aren't you?'

Jamie smiled. Billie was far too kind for her own good. In spite of all the shit her mother had dished out to her over the years, she was still desperately worried about her. 'She's probably only just got settled, I'm sure she'll call you as soon as she can. Now, any chance of my dinner in the near future? I'm fucking starving.'

Billie laughed as she turned back to the cooker. Jamie had an uncanny ability of making everything all right and she worshipped the ground he walked on.

After explaining to Jimmy that the ten grand had been stolen from his flat, Danny didn't take the news that he was to take a break very well at all. 'What the fuck do you mean, Jim? I did bird for you, you cunt, and now you want me out the picture,' he said, looking near to tears. Jimmy felt a slight twinge of guilt, but stuck to his guns.

'Look, I'll never forget what you done for me, Dan, and I'll make sure you're not short of dough. You can stay in this flat, rent free, but at this moment in time, you desperately need a break. Splitting up with Billie Jo, not seeing your boy, Debbie getting pregnant, it's all taken its toll on you. You've gotta sort yourself out, son. You're drinking far too much and taking too much gear and in this game that's no good. Look at last night, Dan, ten grand of my fucking cash you've lost. You'll end up dragging us all down, boy, unless you sort yourself out.'

Danny stood up to face him. He was still high on coke and wasn't up to being treated like a child. 'Do you know what it was like sitting inside that cell every day, hour after fucking hour? Do you?'

Jimmy stood up. 'Look I ain't arguing with you, you did me a favour and you've since been compensated for it. What I've told you is for your own good, Dan. Sort yourself out and you're back in.'

Danny paced up and down the room, his eyes bulging with anger. 'You were like the dad I never had, Jim. I loved you and looked up to you. That's why I did your sentence for you and this is how you fucking repay me, discarding me like a bit of old rubbish.' Danny couldn't help his temper. Losing the plot, he flew at him, fists flailing.

Jimmy might not have been a spring chicken, but he was a wily old devil. Grabbing Danny by the neck he shoved him against the wall. 'Don't fuck with me, son, 'cause I'm telling you now, you'll be messing with the wrong man. Take on board what I've said and learn by it.' Kneeing Danny as hard as he could in the bollocks, Jimmy managed to momentarily paralyse him.

'Cunt,' Jimmy could hear him screaming as he left the flat and ran down the stairs. 'I swear to you, Jim, I'll have you. I ain't no pushover, you know.'

Jimmy smiled as he shut the communal door. 'Mug,' he said quietly.

* * *

Michelle sat on the uncomfortable little bunk and thought about the day's events.

New inmates were meant to have their own cell, but due to a fire, she'd been forced to share with someone. Her cell mate was nowhere to be seen.

Lying back on her bunk, she was about to take stock of her life when she heard the door open.

'All right?' a voice said.

Michelle looked in horror at the girl she was meant to be sharing with.

Tall, big and butch, Jane Murphy was an obvious lesbian.

'I'm fine, thanks,' Chelle replied politely. Trust her fucking luck that the prison had been practically burnt down on the day before her arrival. Pretending to read a book, Chelle kept quiet, but was clocking Jane out of the corner of her eye. She'd never had much to do with rug munchers in the past and was fascinated by this woman.

She reminded Chelle of someone, but she couldn't place who. At last, it came to her. She looks like Ray Winstone with tits, Chelle thought, smiling to herself. She was determined to keep up her sense of humour, even if she couldn't say things out loud. An hour later, the uncomfortable silence between the cell mates had been broken.

'What you in here for?' Jane asked her.

'Drink-driving. It makes me sound awful. I'd had a few glasses of wine and I don't remember much about it, but unfortunately the person in the other car died.'

'Fuck me, that's a bummer.' Jane smiled at her cell mate The last bird she'd got lumbered with was a smackhead; this one seemed all right. 'I'm in for GBH meself, but don't worry, I ain't into hitting birds, it was a geezer I done over. The screws know I'm proper. Normally, they wouldn't stick anyone in with a GBH'er, but I'm sweet, they know that.'

Whether it was her own nerves or Jane's voice, which made her sound like Perry in the Harry Enfield sketches, Chelle tried but couldn't stop laughing. This could only happen to her, sharing a cell with a lesbian doing a stretch for GBH. Chelle's hysterical laughter was infectious and Jane couldn't help but join in with her. Even a couple of hours later after the lights were turned out, the pair were telling each other funny stories, joking about their messed-up lives and roaring.

'Tone it down in there, people are trying to sleep,' shouted Rita, the most miserable screw on the block.

Chelle and Jane tried unsuccessfully to smother another fit of uncontrollable giggles. The ice between them had well and truly thawed.

Liking Ray Winstone with tits more and more, Chelle smiled.

Maybe prison life wasn't going to be so bad after all!