CHAPTER 31
‘Wallet. Keys. Watch.’
The prison officer handed him the plastic bag. Reuben signed the forms to acknowledge he’d received them.
‘See you next time.’
‘There won’t be a next time,’ Reuben said.
The officer gave a sardonic grin. ‘Isn’t that what you said last time?’
How would you know, you prick, you weren’t even here last time. The officer saw them come in and go out through the revolving door of so-called rehabilitation. They were all the same to him.
Outside the entrance Reuben kept walking and didn’t look back. It was a good five kilometres to the railway station, but it was a bright, clear-skied February day and he had until four-thirty to present himself, back at the parole office.
He thought about the last time he’d been released from prison, sitting beside Carlene
