The Escape

Chapter sixteen

Colin received Karen’s letter on his first day back on the new wing. He shared a cell with a tough illiterate prisoner, serving eight years for armed robbery and grievous bodily harm.

Barry Marsden appeared at the magistrates’ Court four weeks after Colin’s escape. He was persuaded by his solicitor to plead guilty. His months on remand counted as time served against his sentence and he was released from prison. The magistrate arranged for Barry to be placed on a twelve-week care-in-the-community programme, where he would be monitored, but could go on studying and having therapy. Once he got out, Barry had applied for visiting rights to see Colin, but had been turned down.

Eleven months passed before he was given permission to visit Colin. Barry now wore contact lenses, had lost a lot of weight and was dressed in a smart suit. He looked healthy and felt good. Thanks to Social Services and various charities that found work for ex-offenders, he was an apprentice plumber. He sat in the waiting room at Barfield, looking forward to seeing his friend, scanning the faces of the inmates as they were let into the visiting section.

He was not the only one whose looks had changed. Barry was shocked to see how poorly Colin looked. His dark hair was greasy, his face gaunt and unshaven, and he had a hollow look in his eyes. He seemed to shuffle rather than walk, and his prison-issue denims looked filthy and crumpled. At first, Colin didn’t recognise his friend without his glasses. Then, when Colin sat down opposite him, Barry noticed how Colin sort of crouched and darted frightened glances around the room.

‘I have been trying to come and see you for months,’ Barry said.

Colin did not reply and Barry patted his suit lapel. ‘I got a job and bought this so I’d look respectable. I’m working as a trainee plumber and I really love it. I’ll work with a qualified bloke when I finish my training.’

Colin still said nothing, and Barry began to feel nervous.

‘I wanted to come and say that I never meant to make out that you threatened me. They slapped me about and sort of put words into my mouth. Truth was, when everyone got to hear about the escape, it give me a lot of respect. I’d never been so popular. Everyone wanted to be my friend.’

Colin still stayed silent, and Barry was finding the one-sided conversation difficult. He blurted out that he had passed his driving test.

‘On the second attempt. I failed the first one ’cos I didn’t indicate I was turning left and I got a couple of the road-safety questions wrong. Where can you park on a motorway was one. I said that I could park on the hard shoulder, but that’s wrong. You are not allowed to park anywhere on motorways. Did you know that?’

Colin stayed mute.

‘What I should have said was, in an emergency you can stay on the hard shoulder to call for help. It was a trick question.’

As Barry looked at Colin, he noticed beads of sweat running down his forehead. It was awful, and he couldn’t understand why Colin wouldn’t talk to him. He was certain that his friend blamed him for his arrest and capture, but he had only been trying to help.

‘Listen, Colin, I’d do anything for you. I’d even swap places with you again, if it would help.’

The bell to signal the visiting time was over was going to ring at any moment. Barry was almost in tears, and then, slowly, Colin reached over to grip his hand.

‘No… ooo… No… not your fau… fault.’ It was hard to understand what he was saying as his speech was so slow.

‘Why you talkin’ funny?’ Barry asked.

‘I can…’t s…top sllurr…ing… sin…ce… I hh…hit my… my he…ad… when I fell.’

‘Bloody hell!’ Barry exclaimed, and held onto Colin’s hand. ‘Have you seen Karen and the baby?’

Colin shook his head, and Barry leaned in closer to whisper.

‘Did the officers do this to you?’

Colin nodded, with tears in his eyes.

‘Does Karen know what happened, or the state you’re in?’

Colin shook his head and tried to explain, but he stammered so badly that it took a long time for him to say that he had no money to buy a phone card to make calls. Barry knew that he couldn’t write a letter about being assaulted because the prison officers checked letters. If they saw anything like that, they would destroy it.

As Barry sat listening, Colin’s stammer got worse as he became more upset. Barry was sorry to hear that Karen had not been to see him and that she and the baby had moved out of their flat and in with her parents.

‘You can write though, beg her to come and see you and then explain everything. Promise me you’ll write to her?’ Barry said, looking directly into Colin’s eyes.

The bell rang. Neither man was ready to say goodbye, but the officers told the prisoners to go back to their cells, and there was nothing they could do. Colin gave Barry a weak smile as he joined the line-up of inmates, and then a small wave of his hand before wiping his tears on his shirt cuff.

Barry sat for a while, feeling wretched and sad. Colin had been such a bright spark, really intelligent and, more than anything, a man with a dream of his future. He was determined to go straight and had been so excited about becoming a dad. He adored his young wife and should have his whole life ahead of him, but now he seemed broken. Barry felt awful because he had encouraged the escape, and now it had destroyed Colin’s hopes.

Barry went to the exit, where he recognised the officer who was standing by the doors. He knew he shouldn’t, but he was so upset about Colin that he stopped and glared at him.

‘You bastards, what you done to Colin? He can’t even talk right any more.’

The officer hardly recognised Barry, but then stepped back a fraction.

‘Don’t you go pointing the finger at any of us. He did a runner, made everyone look like idiots. He fell. No one touched or pushed him. He fell, all right? And, if you really are his mate, then you give him some advice. Tell him to behave himself. Tell him to stop fighting the system, and to go and have some sessions with the therapist for anger control. Because, if he goes on the way he’s going, he’ll be banged up for a few more years.’

Barry walked out and into the visitors’ car park, where he had left his ten-year-old red Ford Escort. It had a lot of mileage on the clock, but he owned it. He sat inside it, watching all the visitors leaving in their various vehicles — wives and kids, brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers — and it made him feel deeply for his friend. Colin had no one. He had not seen Karen or his son since the child’s birth, and that was about a year ago.