'What are you up to, Gerry?'
'You don't want to know.'
'Yes, I do.'
'No, Bonnie. Because if I tell you what I'm doing you become an accessory and there's no way I want you in the firing line.' He reached over and held her hand. 'It's bad enough there's one of us behind bars.'
'Bloody cops,' said Bonnie. 'If they'd played fair this would never have happened.'
'They're worse than the criminals,' laughed Carpenter. 'Don't worry, love, it's being sorted. I promise.'
They heard a commotion at the far end of the room and turned to see what was happening. A blonde woman with a small boy in tow had thrown open the door to one of the closed-visit rooms. 'I hate you!' she shouted. 'I hope I never see you again, ever! You can rot in here for all I care!' She stormed towards the exit, dragging the child after her.
Carpenter saw Macdonald rush to the doorway and call after his wife, but she ignored him. Macdonald cursed and kicked the door. A guard walked over and told him to calm down. Macdonald put his hands in the air. 'Okay, okay,' he said.
'Who's that?' asked Bonnie.
'New guy,' said Carpenter. 'Bob Macdonald. He's in for armed robbery. That was his wife just walked out on him. She wants a divorce.'
'I know how she feels.' She reached over and took his hand. 'Joke,' she said.
'It better had be a joke,' he said.
'They say it's harder for the families than it is for the men in prison,' said Bonnie. 'And they're right.'
'That's why most wives walk away, if it's a long sentence. 'Stand by your man' just doesn't come into it.'
'Don't think you're going to get away from me that easy,' said Bonnie. 'Till death do us part, remember.'
She looked into his eyes and he could see that she meant it. But Carpenter knew that if he was locked up for fifteen years her fierce intensity would gradually die away. Eventually visits to him would become a chore, and no matter how much she loved him now there'd come a time when she wanted, or needed, a warm body beside her at night. She'd get a new husband, the kids would have a new father. And Carpenter would join the ranks of the sad old lags with no lives on the outside to look forward to. He shivered. No way was he going to allow them to keep him inside. 'I'd wait for you, too, if you were in prison,' he said, and laughed.
There were still five minutes to go before visiting time was over and Carpenter and his wife chatted about their children. From time to time Carpenter looked across at Macdonald, who was leaning against the wall with his arms folded, glaring at anyone who made eye-contact with him. The prisoners weren't allowed to leave until all the visitors had gone, so Macdonald had to stay where he was until the end. Carpenter sympathised with the man, having to stand there after his wife had hurled abuse at him in front of everybody.
Eventually, over the Tannoy, a disembodied voice announced that all visitors had to leave. Some of the women groaned. Carpenter stood up and held his wife, kissed her cheek, then hugged her. 'Won't be much longer, love,' he said.
Children were crying and officers moved through the tables, telling visitors they had to go. Several of the younger prisoners were crying too, clinging to their wives and swearing undying love.
Bonnie kissed Carpenter's lips, then headed for the visitors' exit. He went over to join the line of prisoners waiting to be searched. Bonnie gave him a final wave as she reached the door, then blew him a kiss. He blew one back.
Macdonald joined him in the line.
The search on the way out was even more thorough than it had been on the way in. Two West Indians were taken away, protesting loudly.
'What's the story with them?' Macdonald asked Carpenter.
'Caught on camera, probably,' said Carpenter.
'Doing what?'
'Kissing their wives,' said Carpenter. 'Bit too long, bit too deep. Probably transferring drugs. Didn't go well, then, your visit?'
'You heard, yeah?'
Carpenter grinned. 'Bob, everybody heard her parting shot.'
'She's well pissed off at me.'
'Sorry,' said Carpenter.
'Not your fault,' said Macdonald. 'But thanks.'
Carpenter reached the front of the queue and Rathbone patted down his arms and legs, then sent him out into the secure corridor to wait for the rest of the men from the remand block. Two minutes later Macdonald joined him. 'She's set on divorce. There's something going on, something she's not telling me about.'
'Another man?'
'Maybe. Could just be her mother winding her up. It'd be different if I could talk to her on the out, but being here just makes it worse.'
'That was your boy?'
'Yeah. Says she's going to file for custody.'
'She'll probably get it, you know that.'
'Fuck.'
'It's just the way it is,' said Carpenter. 'Cons don't rate highly when it comes to parental rights.'
'Yeah, well, until I'm found guilty I'm not a con. I'm a remand prisoner.'
Carpenter wasn't sure what to say. Macdonald had been caught red-handed and a policeman had been shot. They'd throw away the key. But he knew how Macdonald felt. Angry. Hurt. Betrayed. And Carpenter knew how he'd react if Bonnie ever threatened to leave him and take the children with her. His reaction would be quick, vengeful and permanent.
Net curtains fluttered at the sitting room of the house next door. It would be Mrs Brennan, a spinster in her eighties, the road's resident busybody. Alice looked across at her husband. 'Can't we even tell Mrs Brennan what's going on?' she said. 'She's going to think we've been arrested.'
'It doesn't matter what anyone thinks,' said Roper, swinging a suitcase into the back of the van.
Through the sitting-room window he could see Ben and David playing with their Gameboys. All he had told them was that they were going on holiday. The time for explanations would be later, once they were safe.
There were four Church cars parked on the road outside the house, and there was a white Transit van in the driveway, its rear doors open.
'Where are we going?' asked Alice.
'A safe-house,' said Roper.
'Our own home was supposed to be safe,' said Alice. 'That's what you said - they'd never find out who you are or where you live.'
'And I was wrong,' admitted Roper. 'What do you want me to do, Alice? Open a vein? I'm trying to fix this as best I can.'
'You're not fixing anything. We're just running away and you won't even tell me where.'
'Because I don't know,' said Roper, exasperated. He was being truthful. As soon as he'd opened the envelope Ben had given him he'd phoned his boss in Drugs Operations. Within thirty minutes there had been a dozen men in and around his house. The envelope contained three photographs. One of Ben arriving at school. One of David leaving school. And one of Alice taking out the rubbish, wearing the faded pink housecoat she'd had for years. There was no note. There was no need for one. The meaning was crystal clear.
Raymond Mackie, the head of Drugs Operations himself, was on Roper's doorstep less than an hour after Roper had made the call, promising him the earth. Roper would be protected, so would his family, and Mackie would make sure he found out how Roper's cover had been blown. First things first, Roper and his family would be moved to a Customs and Excise safe-house. Roper hadn't asked where, it wasn't important. All that mattered was to get as far away from the family home as possible. Mackie had brought a bouquet of flowers with him and presented them to Alice as if he were there to celebrate her birthday. Alice had dropped them into the dustbin as soon as Mackie had left in his chauffeur-driven Rover.
'What about the children's schools?' asked Alice.
