Billy Rags Read Free Page A

going?”
    â€œWhat I say,” said the screw. “You’re on your way.”
    â€œWhere to?”
    â€œJust pack up, Cracken. Then maybe you’ll find out.”
    The screw’s name was Melchett. He’d been down on my list since the first week. But now I’d never get the chance.
    â€œYou’re a very lucky screw, Melchett,” I said. Melchett just looked at me. He knew what I meant. And so because he knew he was safe he relaxed and leant against the cell door and fished out a cigarette.
    I began to sort out my odds and ends.
    â€œHope you don’t suffer from homesickness,” Melchett said.
    I ignored him.
    â€œWhere you’re going’ll make this seem like home sweet home.”
    I picked up my stuff and whirled round quick as if I was going to cop for him. He dropped his cigarette and leapt out into the corridor. I grinned at him.
    â€œRight,” I said. “Let’s go down.”
    I walked out into the corridor.
    â€œWhat’s up, Billy?” Toddy said from behind his door.
    â€œI’m off on my holidays.”
    â€œSomewhere good?”
    â€œReece’s booked me for the Riviera.”
    â€œGive Brigitte one for me,” called Freddie as I passed his door.
    â€œSend us a postcard,” said somebody else.
    â€œIf I’ve time to write,” I said.
    We walked downstairs.
    Reece was waiting at the bottom with about fifteen screws. We all walked out into reception. It was like a state visit. While I was signing the private property book Reece went into another room and I heard him say: “Why isn’t he wearing a jacket?”
    Some screw mumbled a reply and Reece said: “I want him wearing a jacket when he goes out of here.”
    A couple of seconds later a decent sort of screw came into reception holding a prison jacket.
    â€œBilly,” he said, “put this on.”
    I straightened up.
    â€œYou must be joking,” I said.
    â€œCome on, Billy,” he said.
    â€œTell silly ballocks to put it on himself.”
    The screw went back into the room where Reece was and there was some more muttering and about four of them came back out and the same screw holding the jacket said: “You’ve got to put it on. Otherwise the Governor’s ordered us to make you put it on.”
    â€œOh, well,” I said, “that’s all right then. Now we know where we are. This way there’ll be no misunderstandings.”
    I backed off into a corner and shaped up. I look the business when I shape up, hard eyes and everything, it’s one of my best effects. The screws walked towards me but they weren’t too keen to get where they were going. There was a bit of maneuvering and then Greaves, who had been watching from the doorway of the room where Reece was, walked to the screw who was holding the jacket and plucked it off him in disgust and went back into the room. I heard him say very emphatically: “He won’t wear it, sir.”
    The edge in his voice was to let Reece know that that was that. There was a pause while they faced each other out and then Reece said something I couldn’t catch.
    Greaves came back out looking weary of the whole fucking world, put the cuffs on me and handed his half of the cuffs over to one of the police officers who’d come to fetch me.
    I got in the back of the car, a copper on either side of me and one up front beside the driver.
    Reece came out and stood next to Greaves to watch us drive off. Just before Greaves closed the car door on us I leant across and said:
    â€œWhere are we going, Greavesy?”
    Before Greaves could answer Reece stepped forward and stared in at me. The veins in his head were almost throbbing enough to knock his hat off. He just couldn’t help himself because he snapped: “Broadmoor.”
    The car drew away. We never went to Broadmoor. We went to Aston.
    But even the piddling victories available in the nick have to be paid