They marched in single file, never once breaking stride. The shocked inmates were still reacting to Leah Smith’s brutal death, but the crushing routine of prison life had reasserted itself nevertheless. There were skills sessions, association time, exercise and phone calls to come, but as soon as breakfast was up, the inmates were dispatched to the shower block.
For Helen the morning shower was always a trial. She hated exposing her body to all and sundry and had had to harden herself to the insults that rained down on her, as her fellow inmates drank in her battle-scarred torso. More than this, it was the smells, sounds and sights that she found shocking – inmates being brought to clamorous orgasm by their jail girlfriends, Lucy, the protesting transsexual, being dragged kicking and screaming into the showers following another ‘dirty protest’ and even on occasion the amateurish, blood-soaked attempts at suicide.
But today Helen was prepared to swallow her discomfort, as she had a job to do. Finishing her shower, she made her way quickly along the stalls, peering through the steam like a clumsy voyeur. Ignoring the invitations and catcalls her behaviour provoked, Helen carried on down the line until she finally found who she was looking for. Rosie Haynes was just completing her ablutions and Helen was on to her fast, pulling her aside as she finished her shower.
‘Where’s the fire?’ Rosie snapped, clearly irritated to have been collared by her deeply unpopular wing mate.
‘There’s no fire, I just wanted a word.’
Several heads turned, so Helen pulled Rosie into the stall and turned the shower back on. Almost immediately the noise levels rose again, the inmates speculating about the morning’s grim events.
‘What about?’ Rosie replied curtly.
‘Leah, of course.’
‘What can I tell you? I’ve only heard the same rumours you have –’
‘That’s not what I mean. Did you see or hear anything last night?’
It was a long shot, but Helen had to ask. It was horrific to think that her neighbour had been brutally murdered and defiled while she slept close by. Rosie’s cell bordered Leah’s on the other side, so it was possible she knew something.
‘I fell asleep sometime around three a.m. and was up just after six. Did you hear anything between those times?’ Helen continued.
‘Not a thing.’
‘Come on, Rosie, I know you’re not a great sleeper –’
‘I was lucky last night. Got a solid eight hours.’
It was almost said with a note of triumph, which angered Helen.
‘Have you picked up anything on the grapevine then?’ she continued quickly. ‘Do you know if anyone had a problem with her?’
‘Are you serious?’ Rosie spat back, raising her voice. ‘That stupid bitch killed a kid. Stuck a knife right in that girl’s belly. She said she didn’t know she was expecting, but the word is she knew exactly what she was doing. To be honest I’m surprised she lasted as long as she did in here.’
‘You don’t mean that –’
‘Don’t I? You ask me, prison’s too good for the likes of her.’
‘Why you sticking up for her anyway?’
Alarmed by a new voice, Helen turned to find Chantelle, a heavily tattooed gang member, approaching.
‘You know something we don’t?’ she continued accusingly.
‘Of course not,’ Helen replied. ‘I’m just trying to find out what happened last night. Leah was a mum to two small boys –’
‘It’s just scum looking out for scum,’ sneered another inmate, as she joined the fray. ‘Funny how they put you two together, isn’t it?’
Helen was now surrounded, a crowd of semi-naked women encircling her, but she refused to back down. Leah Smith was like many of the women in Holloway, she had complicated mental health issues and belonged in a hospital rather than a prison. But there was precious little fellow feeling today. To the other prisoners, Leah was a child killer pure and simple, who’d forfeited her right to life.
‘Even if we had heard anything, do you think we’d tell you?’ Rosie piped up again. ‘Perhaps you’ve forgotten that you ain’t got a badge any more?’
There was laughter and hollering from the group, but Helen had had enough.
‘Don’t you care that someone was murdered last night?’ she said suddenly, aiming her venom directly at Rosie. ‘Someone just like you.’
‘Fuck off. I was nothing like that cow –’
‘They picked Leah’s cell. They could just as easily have picked mine. Or yours.’
For the first time, Rosie didn’t have a ready comeback. Her front was exactly that – she was as scared as everyone else.
‘Whoever did this got into her cell, murdered her, then vanished without a trace,’ Helen continued. ‘Which means none of us are safe.’
Helen turned to face the rest of her adversaries. Her words seemed to be having the desired effect. The crowd, which had been aggressively raucous moments earlier, was now silent.
‘So before you go congratulating yourselves on a young woman’s death, think about that.’
Pushing her way through the crowd, Helen made for the exit, watched every step of the way by thirty anxious inmates.