Seventy-eight. Callum

Two hours and a lot of arguing from our solicitor later, we were finally allowed in to see Dad. Mr Stanhope, our solicitor, said he’d wait for us outside as we were shown into the visitors’ hall. Mum and I sat in silence, our eyes trained on the door. At last the door opened – and I almost wished it hadn’t. Another anonymous prison officer entered, followed by Dad. And he looked terrible, half-deflated and pale as a ghost. On the scaffold, he’d been tall and straight and in a funny way I’d felt so proud of him. But now he looked . . . old. Stooped and shrunken into himself. Mum stood up. I did the same. Dad saw us, but he didn’t smile. Mum opened her arms. Dad walked into them and they hugged silently for a long, long time.

‘I hear I’m being blamed for the riot outside,’ said Dad, his voice almost a monotone.

He pulled away and sat down. All of us, except the prison officer, did the same. I glared at him. Was he going to just stand there, listening to our private conversation? Obviously he was.

‘How are you, Ryan?’ Mum couldn’t care less what was happening outside.

‘How d’you think?’ Dad said bitterness modulating his voice slightly.

‘At least you’re still alive. I’m grateful for that . . .’

‘I’m not. I was ready to die,’ said Dad sombrely.

‘Ryan . . .’

‘I mean it, Meggie. D’you really think I want to stay here, rotting away in a prison cell. They should’ve hanged me. It would’ve been kinder.’

‘Don’t say that!’ Mum cried.

‘Why not? It’s the truth, isn’t it?’

Mum glanced down, struggling for something to say. The click of the door had us turning around. Kelani Adams swept in, her arms out, her expression triumphant. We all stood up. Kelani hugged each of us in turn, even hugging me for good measure.

‘Well, we’ve won the first battle. On to the next one,’ Kelani nodded. ‘I’ve already launched an appeal and . . .’

‘With all due respect, Miss Adams, this is as far as you’ll get,’ Dad interrupted.

‘Oh no it’s not,’ Kelani denied. ‘I’m calling in every favour I’m owed – and then some. You’re innocent of these charges and I’m going to prove it.’

Mum grasped Kelani by the hand, her smile sincere. ‘I want to thank you for your help in all this, Miss Adams. If it wasn’t for you . . .’

‘Your thanks are a tad premature.’ Kelani returned Mum’s smile. ‘But that’s OK.’ She turned to Dad. ‘What we need to do now is . . .’

‘Kelani, it’s over,’ said Dad. ‘They didn’t kill me quickly. They just decided to draw it out instead. I’ll never see the outside of this prison and we both know it.’

The conviction in Dad’s voice silenced us all – but only momentarily.

‘You may know it, but I certainly don’t,’ said Kelani firmly.

But I don’t think Dad heard her.

‘Ryan, please don’t give up,’ Mum begged. ‘There’s still hope. We can appeal. There are lots of things we can do . . .’

‘I don’t want you to do anything. There has to be a way out of here and I’ll find it . . .’ said Dad.

‘Ryan . . .’ Mum was worried.

‘It’s OK, love. I’ve got it all figured out,’ said Dad.

I shook my head slowly as I watched Dad, before stopping abruptly when I realized what I was doing. I glanced up at the officer. He was still looking straight ahead but now his expression was troubled rather than neutral. He glanced down at Dad, then turned to Mum and shook his head.

‘I don’t wish to interfere,’ he began softly. ‘But please tell your husband there is no way to escape from this prison. He’s been talking about nothing else since his reprieve. Tell him the security gates are guarded at all times and the fence is electrified twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.’

Mum looked from the guard to Dad. ‘Ryan, you’re not going to do anything stupid, are you? Promise me . . .’

Dad smiled, a slow, frightening smile, and opened his mouth to answer but at that moment a buzzer sounded.

‘Ryan, please, please trust me to do my job,’ Kelani said to Dad. ‘I will get you out of here. You have to believe it.’

‘I’m afraid visiting time is over,’ the officer said.

Dad headed for the door.

‘Ryan . .?’ Mum called after him.

‘Meggie, don’t worry about me. I’m getting out of here,’ said Dad. ‘You just see if I don’t.’

And he carried on walking away from us, towards the exit. The prison officer nodded politely to my mother and Kelani. Kelani nodded back. But Mum didn’t even see him. She was watching my father leave. The prison officer followed Dad out of the room. Mum muttered something to herself, utterly desolate.

‘What did you say?’ I asked her as gently as I could.

Mum turned to me, tears in her eyes. ‘He didn’t even say goodbye.’

Date: 2015-12-18; view: 518