Living with Shadows (2 page)

She got to her feet and placed both hands on the table. ‘Hi, I’m Kate Stuart, your new tutor.’ There was a slight tremor in her voice and she swallowed hard trying to regain composure, hoping no one had noticed. ‘I see you have your folders with you, so if you can be getting on with your work, I’ll come round and speak to you individually.’ Obediently, they opened their folders and she breathed a sigh of relief.

As she made her way around the classroom, chatting easily to each prisoner, her expectations of unruly behaviour diminished. They seemed keen to learn. Whether it was a desire to learn to read, write letters home or gain a qualification, they all seemed genuinely interested in their goals.

At break the students went out for a smoke but Kate stayed in the classroom reading through their learning plans. She looked up to find a group of men sitting casually around one of the tables, several of whom were not from her class. Though they saw her watching, they chose to ignore her and continued their conversation. Her sense of unease returned but she knew she would have to ask them to leave. As she approached, they gradually ceased talking. One of them, a dark haired youth with a closely trimmed beard looked up. For a moment she was thrown off guard by the uncanny resemblance to her son, some years older maybe, but the same colouring, dark hair, blue eyes, handsome.

‘Are you the new tutor for this class?’ He leaned back in his chair as if to get a better look at her.

‘Yes I am.’ Kate held his gaze. ‘What are you doing in here?’

‘I’m in for murder.’ He looked intently at her as if waiting for some reaction. Kate wondered if he’d deliberately misinterpreted her question. She felt the attention of the others on her. Some were grinning, eyes darting from him to her, looking for any trace of fear in her. A new tutor must be quite entertaining, she thought, especially a female one. She felt this was a test, one she knew she had to pass if she was to earn their respect.

‘I meant what are you doing in this class? You shouldn’t be here, should you?’

The chair legs thumped down hard as he swung forward. ‘The screws don’t bother when we’re on our break. What do you teach?’

‘Literacy.’ She noticed the group of men had lost interest. This obviously wasn’t exciting enough for them. She realised it could have been, but the bearded youth decided to be pleasant.

Her students drifted back into the classroom and Kate addressed the intruders casually but firmly, ‘Right lads, you’d better get back to your classes.’

Slowly they eased themselves off the desks and chairs and made towards the door. The inquisitive one smiled as he passed. Kate watched him leave, wondering at the fact he was a murderer; he looked so vulnerable himself. And there was something else. She was sure he hadn’t intended to shock her, or show off in front of the others when he told her his crime. It was as if he was trying to find out how she perceived him, whether or not she should despise him for what he’d done. But what she felt was pity; even though his crime was terrible, she pitied him, because she knew in those few moments, he despised himself.

It seemed no time at all before the bell rang for the end of class. The students pushed their morning’s work into their folders and stole quietly out of the room in the same manner they had entered. Kate packed away her things and looked around the empty class at the desks and chairs that only a few moments ago had accommodated some of the most hardened criminals in Britain. In spite of her initial fear, it hadn’t been such a terrible experience as she had imagined. Only one incident dominated her mind, the young man who blatantly told her his crime. Though their meeting was brief, there was something about him that intrigued her. It wasn’t just because of his remarkable likeness to her son. It was as though there was a kind of empathy between them, something that he, too, had recognised. She told herself it was madness but there was no denying he’d stirred something inside her.

Outside, she breathed in the fresh air. The sound of keys rattling in locks still lingered in her ears but as she strode across the car park she felt a sense of freedom far greater than she’d ever felt before.

The ache in her bowels had gone.

It felt good to be back in familiar surroundings. Even the feted smell of the dog as Kate walked into the kitchen seemed less offensive than usual. It had been a tiring morning. Her own anxiety was to blame, for the actual teaching had been as normal as could be expected of any classroom environment, she supposed.

Most of her peers had chosen to work in colleges of further education but she had chosen a prison. She had always had a leaning towards things slightly taboo. It was more to do with having an inquisitive nature than simply wanting to pry, something in her she couldn’t help. As a child, it often got her into trouble. Her adventurous spirit had been irksome to her mother. ‘Kate’s forever interfering in things she shouldn’t’ she would complain.

And, of course, her interest went much further than simply wondering what lay behind the high prison walls, the strong iron gates that held fast the beasts of society. She wondered about their minds. What made them so different? At what stage in their lives did they begin their life of crime? What of nature versus nurture? Didn’t some psychologist once respond to the question, ‘Which contributes more to personality, nature or nurture?’ with ‘Which contributes more to the area of a rectangle, its length or its width?’ She could never get her head around those questions which posited a one or the other response. To her, nothing was ever black or white, especially in this day and age where boundaries were so much more blurred than they used to be.

She flung her bag down by the door and contemplated making herself some lunch, though her appetite was scant. On the worktop was a message from Jim saying he’d be late home as he’d gone to price up a job after work.

His business was thriving just now, a contrast to the penny-pinching days of twelve months ago when Jim was out of work. Things were desperate then. Her college grant and Jim’s benefits were hardly enough to live on. When he decided to start up his own business, she was sceptical, especially when he said it would mean re-mortgaging the house, yet it seemed the only way out of the financial crisis they were heading for. Jim had supported her through college, and now it was his chance. It had proved a good move and although they didn’t see much of each other, things were finally beginning to turn around.

She pulled open the fridge door but before she had time to consider what to eat, the doorbell rang accompanied by three ear splitting barks from Jade. Kate glanced at herself in the hall mirror as she passed and quickly fluffed up her hair with her fingertips.

‘Ben, what brings you here?’ she asked, delighted by this unexpected visit from her son.

‘The 11.15 train from Leeds,’ his grin broadening as he stepped into the hall.

Kate gave him a hug. ‘That’s the second time I’ve been misinterpreted today.’ Ben cocked his head to one side and frowned at her. ‘I was just about to have lunch. Fancy something?’

‘You’re OK thanks, Mum. I had a burger at the station.’

‘Tea then? I wasn’t really hungry anyway.’

‘Have you got a beer? Travelling doesn’t half give you a thirst.’

Kate laughed at his cheek and he followed her into the kitchen where she took one of Jim’s cans from the fridge. ‘So how come you’re here on a Monday afternoon?’ The unmistakable hiss of a split ring-tab sounded behind her and she filled the kettle before reaching for a glass.

‘Don’t worry, saves on the washing up.’ She turned to find Ben already swigging from the can and shook her head in mock disapproval. ‘Not sure how to tell you.’ He leaned against the worktop, arm outstretched, his long fingers wrapped tightly around his drink, making a barrier between them.

Kate threw a teabag from the caddy into her cup, poured in the boiling water and watched it swirl around before stabbing at it with a teaspoon. ‘Try me,’ she said, quietly.

‘Marianne and me . . . well, we’ve decided to split up.’

Kate remained silent for a moment as she squeezed out the teabag on the side of her cup. ‘Are you sure it’s a joint decision, Ben?’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ He drew his arm away and took a step back.

Was that aggression in his voice, surprise, or what? It threw her off guard and she wished she’d waited to hear him out. But it was too late. She would have to go on. ‘It’s just something she said . . . at Christmas, when we last saw you both.’

‘What did she say,—what could she say except we haven’t been getting on recently?’

Kate turned and looked him full in the face. He stared back but she was not convinced by his puzzled expression; was it fear she detected behind his eyes? Her old worries re-surfaced. ‘She just wondered what you did with your money, that’s all. Ben, if you haven’t been paying your way . . .’

‘But I have, of course I have. You know what it’s like, bills and stuff. OK, I have the odd night out, but doesn’t everyone? What would be the point if you can’t enjoy yourself once in a while?’ He felt in his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. ‘You know, Marianne has such high expectations. Just because her parents are well off, she expects me to give her the same lifestyle.’

Kate knew that wasn’t true. If anything, Marianne had always seemed quite thrifty, except when it came to Ben. The watch she’d bought him at Christmas must have cost several hundred pounds. It was easy to imagine how she had come to spend that much on him. He would have told her which designer watch he liked and then feigned surprise at the cost and told her she mustn’t buy it. But she wouldn’t want to disappoint him by buying something inferior. Seeing his delight on opening his present would take care of the extravagance.

Kate looked her son up and down. His clothes didn’t look particularly new and his trainers had seen better days whereas Marianne was always well turned out. She suddenly felt she was being slightly unfair to Ben. Whatever had happened between them was no business of hers and she mustn’t take sides. ‘Well, I’m sorry to hear it, Ben. You know how much I like Marianne but . . . are you sure it’s over?’

‘Yes, Mum, I’m sure.’ He twirled the can around before taking another swig and then took a long drag on his cigarette.

‘What about the flat?’

‘Marianne says she’ll move out.’

‘But you can’t afford it on your own, can you?’

‘Just about.’ He shook the can, squashed it in his hand and threw it into the bin.

‘Sounds like you’ll have to forego even the odd night out to me,’ Kate couldn’t resist telling him.

‘So be it. Look, Mum, I can’t make someone stay with me if they don’t want to.’

‘Then it is Marianne’s decision.’

‘What is this, the Spanish Inquisition? I came to let you know what’s going on. It isn’t easy for me, you know. I mean I do still have feelings for her.’ He went to the fridge and took out another can. Kate was about to say something but stopped herself. Ben couldn’t handle too much confrontation and it was obvious he was upset. If it
was
her decision he was bound to feel bad about it.

‘Why don’t you stay for dinner? I’m not sure what time Jim will be home but we needn’t wait. How does spag.bol. sound?’

‘OK, great. There’s just one other thing . . . I need a favour.’

‘Oh?’

‘I have to pay Marianne’s deposit on another place.’

‘And you’ve no money.’

‘I’ve worked everything out. We get a rise in a couple of months so I can start paying you back as soon as it comes through.’

‘How much?’

‘She’s seen a place she really likes but needs to put a thousand down before the end of next week or she might lose it.’

Kate turned and looked out of the window. She rested her elbows on the worktop and held her tea with both hands but she didn’t really see anything on the outside. A thousand pounds, just like that, yet what was the alternative? Come back home? No, that wouldn’t be an option. ‘When do you need it?’

‘Is it possible to have it today? Only it will have to be cash. A cheque will take too long to clear.’

She felt irritated. The pleasure at seeing him had all but gone. All she was aware of was the vast amount of money she was about to hand over to him on the strength of his story. There was nothing to back it up. It was all out of the blue. He certainly didn’t seem embarrassed about asking for it. Had he simply forgotten what had gone on before? She looked hard into his eyes. ‘I do want it back, Ben.’

‘Oh, course. I said, didn’t I, just as soon as I get my pay rise. You don’t know what a worry it is off my mind. Thanks, Mum.’

Kate picked up the dishcloth and wiped it over the worktop, though there wasn’t so much as a crumb on it. She didn’t want him to see the tears in her eyes or to detect the worry he’d just shifted from himself onto her.

They drove the short journey into town in silence. Kate couldn’t quite believe what she was doing but the wheels were in motion and she wouldn’t renege on her decision. There was no point in saying anything more about it. Once she’d handed the money over, perhaps she would feel better because then the unsavoury part of it would be behind her and they could behave naturally with one another again.