Crow Bait by Douglas Skelton Read Free Book Online Page A

stood nearby and watched the whole thing. He would have done something had things got out of hand, but he knew the best course of action was to let Sammy deal with it.
    It was Sammy who told him how to handle prison life, to focus on the little things and avoid thinking about the big picture. It’s not one day at a time, it’s one hour at a time, he said. Look forward to something every week – pie, beans and chips at teatime maybe, or the few hours a week out in the fresh air. Don’t think about life outside, what you could be doing, because that will make it worse. The prison is your life, its routines your routines. Your peter is a dirty, stinking hole, but it’s home, be it ever so humble. Slopping out is degrading and disgusting, but take comfort in the fact that while you’re standing in line holding your chamber pot and then pouring it down the sluice, the screws are also subjected to the same stench and the sight of the shit getting tipped out.
    Not thinking about life outside was made easier after Audrey stopped coming to see him.
    Davie would never forget that final visit, shortly after his conviction for Harris. He knew what she was going to say before she said it. He could tell by her stiff features and the tension in her muscles as she walked towards the table. He knew what was about to happen and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Even if he wanted to.
    ‘I can’t do this, Davie,’ she said as soon as she sat down. No beating about the bush. She’d probably been thinking about it for days. He didn’t say anything. He knew she wasn’t finished. ‘I was in court. I heard what happened.’
    That surprised him. He hadn’t seen her there. But then he’d been so angry with the deal he was being dealt that nothing else mattered.
    ‘I really thought you could change. I really did. But you can’t, can you?’
    He wanted to tell her that Harris had gone for him, that a screw called Lomas had put him up to it. He wanted to tell her that he had changed, that what he had done was purely in self-defence. But he didn’t say anything. It wouldn’t have made any difference. But still, he felt something inside wither and die. Even Audrey thought he was a monster.
    After that he didn’t send her any visitor passes and she didn’t ask for them. He did not phone her. There were no letters. He saw her by-line in the Evening Times for a time, but then they stopped. For a while he wondered where she had gone, wondered what she was doing, wondered if she ever thought of him. Finally he tried not to think about her at all and he even managed it, at least during the daylight hours when there was something else to take up his attention: work, exercise, meals, routine. But he could not control his dreams. Audrey had represented the possibility of another life, and now that had been taken from him and his subconscious refused to let go. Some nights he would wake up thinking she was there with him, her voice soothing, her fragrance comforting, only to find Sammy’s snores and the stink of the piss pots.
    Davie followed Sammy’s advice and kept his head down. There were three further attacks over the years – one witnessed by a screw who was able to state to the Colonel that McCall had reacted purely in self-defence. Even so, they put paid to any notion of early release. Another nobody knew about – Sammy arranged for the attacker to be removed without fuss until he came to, his bruises put down to slipping on a bar of soap. The screw asking the questions didn’t believe a word of it, but he wasn’t inclined to press further. Bars of soap were commonly left on floors in Barlinnie. Tripping and falling over in a peter was also prevalent. Prison can be a dangerous place for the accident prone.
    None of the attackers would say who sent them. They were too scared. Although nobody was talking, Davie remained convinced that his father was behind the attacks. He still had questions, lots of questions, concerning