All the Rage

Executive summaryThis report has been prepared as part of the process of assessing Mr Parrie for possible parole. I have spent a total of six hours with him, on three separate occasions at HMP Wandsworth. I have had access to police and prison records, and have consulted Dr Adrian Bigelow, Consultant Forensic Psychiatrist to HMP Wandsworth, who has been responsible for overseeing Mr Parrie since he took up the post in 2014. In addition, I have considerable personal experience in the assessment of offenders convicted of sexual offences (a full curriculum vitae is attached).The prison staff I spoke to confirmed that Mr Parrie has been in every respect a model prisoner. He has taken on a variety of work within the prison environment, and has always carried it out diligently and conscientiously. He has not been involved in any disciplinary or violent incidents, and has successfully completed various training courses which would assist him in obtaining employment, were he to be released. The attached Occupational Therapy report indicates that he is fully capable of carrying out ordinary daily activities and managing his daily routine in a productive manner. He is deemed to be a positive influence on other inmates, especially younger offenders. He has worked hard to maintain contact with his children by letter, and they visit once or twice a year (they currently reside with Mr Parrie's former wife in Aberdeen so more frequent visits are not practicable). In all the above respects, therefore, I consider him an appropriate candidate for consideration by the Board.However, there remains one significant issue, i.e. his contention that he is not guilty of the crimes for which he was imprisoned. Such a failure to assume responsibility for offending behaviour and express appropriate remorse (especially with offences of this gravity) is usually deemed to be a significant bar to early release. However, while Parrie continues to maintain his innocence, it appears his attitude has ameliorated considerably in this respect in recent months. Previous to this, he had always insisted that the police `˜fitted him up'; he now appears willing to concede that while there may have been mistakes in the Thames Valley Police investigation, there was no deliberate attempt to frame him for a crime he did not commit. The abatement of this paranoia is clearly a very positive sign. It must also be borne in mind that he has now served eighteen years, and had he originally entered a guilty plea, he might well have been released before this date.The Parole Board has a duty to assess whether a specific offender continues to present a risk to the public, and individuals will not be eligible for parole unless the Board is satisfied on this point. However, it is `“ as is well known `“ especially difficult for someone in Mr Parrie's particular position to demonstrate reduced risk of harm, as sex offenders who refuse to admit guilt are not eligible for the Sexual Offenders Treatment Programme (SOTP) and the Structured Assessment of Risk and Need (SARN) which follows completion of that programme, which the Parole Board look to when assessing these offenders.At the same time, it is crucial that those who do maintain their innocence `“ regardless of the nature of their crime(s) `“ should not be discriminated against, especially where there are other factors that can be brought into play, to assist in the assessment of risk. I would point to Mr Parrie's proven good conduct, over a very long period, in support of this. In my own conversations with him, he also expressed considerable sympathy with the victims of the crimes (albeit whilst maintaining that he himself was not culpable), which I also consider to be a positive sign.I do not consider Mr Parrie to be suffering either from mental illness or any psychiatric condition such as schizoaffective disorder, within the meaning of the Mental Health Act 1983 (amended 2007).Dr Simeon WareMBBS FRCPsychConsultant Forensic Psychiatrist`˜I don't believe a bloody word of it. Model prisoner, my arse. It's all just a bloody act.'

Osbourne takes the report from me and slips it back in the envelope; he's going out on a limb, letting me see it at all.

`˜And he's still telling anyone who'll listen that he's innocent.'

Even now, all these years later. I should have expected it, knowing what I do, but it infuriates me all the same.

Osbourne is watching my face. `˜At least he seems to have backed off about being fitted up.'

`˜It's not just that, though, is it? This new attack `“ it's too similar `“ it's all going to start up all over again `“'

`˜But that's the point, Adam. It's similar. It's not the same. From what you've said, the attack on the Appleford girl is far more likely to be a hate crime. And even if it isn't, there are umpteen ways you could explain any superficial parallels. It could be a copycat, for starters. Someone who read about the Parrie case in the papers. It wouldn't be the first time, now would it?'

I want to believe it. Part of why I came here was to hear him say it. But the unease is still there, snaking round my gut.

`˜Is that something you're looking into?'

I shake my head. `˜Not yet. Not officially.'

He knows what I'm getting at: looking for a copycat would mean going public. At least internally.

`˜Might be worth checking who's been visiting Parrie, though,' he says carefully.

I nod. That, at least, I can probably do without making too many waves.

`˜I just think it would be worth ruling it out,' he continues. `˜But I'm sure you have nothing to worry about.'

I put down the mug and manage a thin smile.

`˜Thanks for the tea. And the reassurance.'

His smile is a lot more convincing than mine. `˜Any time. Though the press are bound to pick up on the Parrie thing sooner or later so best be prepared, eh?'

I get the message. `˜I'm seeing Harrison first thing.'

`˜Good. And Alex? How's she coping with all this?'

`˜She's fine,' I say quickly. `˜Busy at work, you know.'

He must sense something, because he frowns slightly but he doesn't push it, and then I make a big show of getting out my car keys and we're going in to say goodbye to Viv and shaking hands on the doorstep and I'm trying my best to avoid his eye.

Because I'm not sure which is worse; the lie of omission or the lie I just told.

* * *

`˜So what do you think `“ do we still want pizza?'

Patsie is sitting behind Sasha on the top deck of the bus going towards Summertown, her backpack wedged between her feet. She's wearing her red leather jacket, like she always does. Isabel's next to Sasha, listening to music on her phone and fiddling about with her hair. She's dyed the ends pink. Sasha half wishes she had the courage to do that, but only half. It's not just that her mother would flip (to which Iz just shrugged and said it would grow out eventually so no need to get your knickers in a twist); Sasha's always been rather proud of her hair, and her mum never stops reminding her that as soon as you start dyeing it you'll never get the real colour back.

Patsie leans forward and digs Isabel in the ribs. `˜Earth to Parker. Where. Do. We. Want. To. Go?'

Iz turns round and pretends to swipe her. `˜I heard you honking the first time, you noisy cow. I don't care as long as I don't have to eat my weight in pizza `“ I am getting SO fat!'

Sasha gives her a sidelong look. `˜Yeah, right. You're a size six, for God's sake.'

Iz blows her a kiss and Patsie makes a puking gesture and they all collapse in giggles. On the other side of the aisle Leah reaches into her bag and pulls out a bottle with a straw in and passes it round. It says Diet Coke on the side, but there's a good glug of her father's Scotch in there too. Not the malt `“ he'd notice that `“ just the stuff he keeps for when the neighbours come round. Sasha takes as small a sip as she can get away with then hands it back, feeling the alcohol burn down her throat. She's taught herself not to gag, but really, whisky is truly disgusting. And as for those bright-green shot things `“ they just taste like mouthwash `“

`˜So, you going to tell us or what?'

Sasha looks up. Her three friends are staring at her, trying to suppress their knowing smiles. Sasha does her best to look Innocent And Baffled but she can't be making a very good job of it because Leah gives her one of her yeah, yeah faces.

`˜Don't even try and pull that one `“ we know you've got a new bloke, don't we, Pats? So `“ give. Who is he?'

Sasha feels herself blushing. `˜I don't know what you mean.'

The girls give her theatrically incredulous looks. `˜You've been mega secretive for days,' says Isabel. `˜What is it `“ is he married or something?'

She has her head on one side now, scrutinizing Sasha for a reaction, which only makes her blush even more.

`˜Well, wouldn't you like to know,' she says, trying to look playful and teasing. As if she's sitting on a delicious secret. Which she tells herself she is `“ well, sort of, anyway.

Iz looks archly at Patsie and passes Sasha the bottle again. `˜Don't worry. Few more of these and we'll get the truth out of her. We've got all night.'

Patsie pokes Iz in the shoulder blades. `˜You, Isabel Rebecca Parker, are all talk. You were totally out of it last week on two Cactus Jacks.'

She grins at Sasha, who gives her a relieved smile in return. She can rely on Patsie to back her up. She always has `“ ever since playgroup. The two only became four when they went to secondary school, where the class clever clogs started calling them the LIPS girls: Leah, Isabel, Patsie, Sasha. The others loved it `“ they even started using it for their WhatsApp group `“ but Sasha knows irony when she sees it. Especially given how much time the others spend pouting into their make-up mirrors. Either way, the name stuck. And they're tight, the four of them; all the other girls want to be in with their group, but as Pats once joked, the LIPS are sealed. But even now, Sasha and Patsie have something special that Leah and Iz don't share. Though Sasha's realized, these last few weeks, that there are some things she'd rather not talk about to anyone, not even Patsie. Like Liam. Especially Liam `“

There's a sudden burst of laughter from the group of lads in the front of the bus, and a man near the back looks up and frowns. He got on just after Sasha and the others, but unlike the boys, he isn't even on their radar. He's not the sort of man people notice, least of all teenage girls. He mutters something about the noise and turns to look out of the window. The boys, meanwhile, are now swivelling glances in the direction of the girls, but Iz has already declared them `˜like, totally skanky' so talking to them is clearly out of the question.

`˜What did you tell your mum?' asks Leah. `˜About tonight?'

Sasha shrugs. `˜Just that we were going for a pizza and I might stay over with Pats. She's chill about it.'

But her cheeks flush a little at the memory. Of her mum smiling and telling her to have a good time. Of the hug she got as she was leaving and the `˜I love you' that still lays heavy on her heart. She hates lying to her mum; she always has, even when she was little, and she wishes she didn't have to now. But she knows her mum wouldn't understand. She'd be hurt and angry and it's so much easier and kinder right now to let her think she's crashing with Pats. Some day `“ soon `“ she'll explain everything. She's promised herself she'll do that and she'll hold to it. Just not quite yet.

`˜Wish mine was more like yours,' says Isabel, making a face. `˜She just will not get off my case. I mean, I could actually get married in four months.'

Sasha's turn to grimace. `˜God, imagine getting shackled at sixteen. I have so much I want to do before I get lumbered with all that crap.'

Iz grins. `˜Yeah, yeah, we all know what you're going to be doing this summer. That's when you're not walking the Inca Trail and bungee jumping off the Grand Canyon and swimming with dolphins in the Galapagos `“'

`˜It was Australia `“ I don't think they even have dolphins in the Galapa`“'

She stops and laughs, seeing their faces. `˜OK, OK. Perhaps I do go on a bit.'

Their mouths drop open, mock-aghast. `˜No, seriously?'

`˜Anyway,' says Patsie, popping a Haribo into her mouth and chewing loudly. `˜At least it'd be better than no one wanting to marry you at all. Like that creep Scott.'

Isabel bursts out laughing. `˜No one'd shag him `“ imagine that pizza face rubbing all over your tits!'

They're squealing with laughter now, rolling in the seats and clutching their stomachs. The boys are looking round, wondering what's going on and clearly worried the joke is on them, which just sets the girls off all over again.

* * *