Six months later, I get transferred to a D-category prison just outside Bristol for the last year of my sentence. It’s a bloody holiday camp after Cadwell. We get keys to our own cells, we can wear what we want, and I’ll be able to apply for home visits after a month. Well, if I had a home to visit, I could.
I’ve been there barely a week when Ella arrives.
She’s not come to see me, mind. Nor anyone else. She’s moving her stuff into the next wing along when I catch sight of her down the hall. My heart stops for a moment, then beats double-time as I stand and stare at her.
She’s still got that wide-eyed innocent look about her. Her gaze is darting all around the place, fearful as a new-born fawn, and she’s hanging onto Cas, the biggest, butchest bulldyke in the place. Just as Ella’s sayin
