The Jump (47 page)

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them black boiler suits and black balaclavas. At least two witnesses will say we were black, they always do when guns are involved. We’ll wear black knitted gloves and boots too. They won’t see fuck all. When everyone is dressed alike it just confuses the witnesses more. There’s no eye colour, hair colour, nothing to be seen. Only Georgio, and the Old Bill already know what he looks like.

‘It’s the witnesses we want to confuse,’ he went on, ‘so we shout all the time, except for me when I’m reassuring the driver to get him to open the door. Shouting is the best form of communication on a jump because your voice is completely different from normal. It also intimidates people, and that’s what we have to do, ain’t it? Scare them shitless, the Old Bill included. I’ll put on an accent for the driver, he won’t know me from Adam. I’ll have the door open and promise him he’ll be home in time for tea if he just cooperates. The driver is the worst to look after, see? He is sure that no one can get to him through the bulletproof screen. Once he sees the Armalite he’ll be terrified, he’ll drop down under the dash. And when the smell of petrol hits him, he’ll just disintegrate before our eyes. No one wants to be burned alive, do they?’ Eric laughed at his own cunning. ‘He’ll be as meek as Mary’s little lamb!’

Alan laughed with him, excitement giving way to euphoria. ‘I can’t wait to see the fucking Old Bill’s faces, can you?’

‘As long as they don’t see ours,’ Eric joked. ‘That’s the main thing! Come on, let’s get going. There’s a Happy Eater along from here and I could murder a cup of tea.’

They went back to the car. Alan stood for a few seconds enjoying the view of the golf course and the surrounding countryside. He smiled and said to the breeze: ‘The Devil’s Punchbowl, eh?’ And, chuckling, he got into the car beside Eric. ‘What a name for the Old Bill to write in their statements. Not a bad name, in the circumstances.’

Eric nosed the Volvo back into the speeding traffic. ‘On the maps it’s classed as an area of outstanding natural beauty. After the jump the Old Bill will never be able to pass it by without a shiver of apprehension - and that, to me, will be the best part of all.’

Alan nodded his agreement and watched out of the window as the countryside passed by.

Georgio watched Donna as she walked jauntily towards him with the teas and KitKats. He saw her slim legs encased in sheer black tights move beneath the short skirt of her emerald green fitted suit. She looked stunning. The suit had large gold buttons on the jacket and she wore gold earrings and bracelets to complement it. Her shoes

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were four-inch-heeled black suede, plain-looking but obviously expensive. He noticed the looks she gathered from both the men and the women in the visiting room. He saw a young pretty blonde girl give her a wave, and frowned.

As Donna reached the table he said. ‘Who’s the little blonde?’

Donna shrugged. ‘Oh, just a young girl. I give her a lift sometimes, help her with the kids. Why?’

For some reason he didn’t understand, Georgio felt a deep resentment. More curtly than he meant to, he snapped, ‘She’s a blagger’s slag, don’t give her a lift any more. Her old man’s an ice cream. Stupid little fucker. Keep away from her.’

Donna sat down and looked at her husband in undisguised surprise. ‘I beg your pardon?’

Either not noticing the tone of her voice or unwilling to heed it, Georgio said nastily, ‘I said, keep away from her. What the fucking hell would you have in common with the likes of that, eh? I don’t want you giving her or any of these slags in here, a lift - all right?’

Donna slammed a KitKat in front of him. ‘Listen, Georgio, I don’t know who’s rattled your bloody cage today, but don’t you ever think you can tell me what I can or can’t do. I have a lot in common with that little girl, as it goes, mainly the fact that both our husbands are banged up for a very long time. She misses him like I miss you, and unlike me she has to keep two children on a bloody pittance. If I want her living in my house I’ll have her there, Geojgio. The days of you telling me anything are long gone.’

Georgio and Donna stared at one another in shock, both aware that something had changed between them and neither willing to take responsibility for it. Donna was frightened and exhilarated all at the same time. Georgio’s face hardened and for the first time Donna saw him as others saw him.

‘That was a big speech, Donna. Who put them words into your trap then? Alan Cox, I suppose.’

Donna’s mouth dropped open in shock. ‘What? What do you mean?’

Georgio could hear the strain in her voice, see it in her face, and still he carried on speaking even though he knew he was being unfair. Seeing her with the blonde girl had frightened him. He was shit scared in case the girl ever saw any of his other visitors and mentioned them to Donna. It was this fear that kept him speaking against his better judgement.

‘You heard. I know you had a great time in Scotland. Have a nice shower in his flat, did you? Get in with you, did he? You always liked me slipping in a length in the shower, didn’t you, darlin’?’

She heard the words and registered them, but her own brain would not allow her to answer. She watched Georgio’s mouth moving and felt as if she had been punched heavily in the solar plexus.

‘I mean, let’s face it, girl. You had a weekend to get to know him, didn’t you? Was it any good, eh? Got a nice big one, has he?’

Donna began to stand up, her legs jittery and unstable. She couldn’t believe what her husband was saying to her, what filth he was spewing out at her as if she was a nothing, a nobody. Seeing her rise, Georgio grabbed her hand, squeezing the skin between his thick fingers until it hurt her.

‘Let me go, Georgio. I want to leave, let go of my hand.’ Her face was closed, her voice low, the words spoken through gritted teeth.

Georgio felt a wave of panic wash over him and opened his mouth in distress.

‘Sit down, Donna. Please, sit back down. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. Please, Donna, I’m begging you to sit back down.’

He stared into her white face, his own pleading with her to sit once more, to listen to what he had to say. Donna sat down, her heart hammering inside the emerald green suit, the first beads of nervous sweat appearing under her arms and across her chest.

Georgio’s voice was lower now, gentler.

.’I’m sorry, Don Don. Christ Almighty! I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. I’m so jealous of you, darlin’. I looked at you just now and I felt the most awful feeling of loss inside me, it was horrible. I suddenly visualised life without you. If you left me I’d die inside, Don Don. I would, I swear before God. I couldn’t go on. Thinking of you, looking like you do, with Alan Cox. I know him, Donna, he’s a slag. I know he’s me mate but women don’t stand a chance with him once he starts his antics—’

Donna interrupted him. ‘You’re two of a kind, you mean, Georgio?’ she said in a low voice. ‘You always liked the ladies, or should I say girls? So I showered in Alan Cox’s flat. Big deal. We’d been driving all night. But all that aside, it hurts me to think you can’t trust me, that you take me for such a tart. After all these years, you could accuse me of that! Me, Donna, the only faithful half of our marriage.’

She leant forward in the chair and said with heavy emphasis, ‘Do you know something? It might do you good if I did have an affair, Georgio. It might just make you realise what you’ve got. I am putting my arse on the line for you, mate. I am trying to keep every thing going and all you can do is talk to me like I’m one of bloody Talkto’s so-called escorts.

I

‘Well, listen to me, Georgio Brunos, and listen bloody good. You ever pull a stunt like this again and me and you are finished. Get that? Finitosberg, goodbyesville as you used to say years ago. “Slipping in a length …” you have the gall to say that to me when you spent the best part of our married life fucking anything under the age of twenty-one that showed a bit of leg and looked available. You’ve got a nerve, Georgio. You’ve got some bloody neck!’

Georgio listened to Donna in a stupor of shock so intense he felt an actual wave of heat wash over him, followed by nausea. That Donna could talk to him like this spoke volumes. It showed him just how far his wife had broken free, how the hold he had over her had been destroyed. Half of him was excited by this new, strong-minded Donna and the other half was wary, frightened of her. She had bowed to his will for over twenty years; to realise now that she was a strong person, one to take account of, was a dismaying, even alarming thought. She could make or break him now. She could blow him wide open or she could take him through everything he needed to do. Donna, his little Donna, was in charge. Finally and irrevocably she had thrown off the mantel of underdog, and was meeting him as an equal, as a grown-up woman. He also knew that the Donna he had married, the girl who had catered to his every whim and want, was gone. She would never, ever come back.

Donna had emerged as a mature woman, and the knowledge terrified Georgio because he knew he couldn’t handle her as an equal. He could never accept any woman in that way. The worst part of it all was that he knew he had to grovel to her for now, had to tell her exactly what she wanted to hear in order to placate her. It was what Donna had had to do to keep him throughout her married life … but Georgio decided not to think about that. Instead he put a smile on his face, but as he spoke to her, a seed of discontent grew inside him as he saw himself, in his mind, debased by and before her.

‘I said I’m sorry, Donna, what more can I do? I was a fool, I know. I’m jealous, that’s all. You don’t know what it’s like banged up in here night after night, knowing you’re outside, able to do what you want. I love you more than life itself. I can’t help feeling insecure in the knowledge that you’re a beautiful woman who men want and desire. I know blokes who’d give ten years of their lives for a woman as good as you, only half as good as you. Please tell me you forgive me. I couldn’t stand it if we parted company today with this between us. Honestly, Don Don, it would kill me.’

Donna looked at Georgio through new eyes and was surprised to note that his impassioned plea had not reduced her to a quivering wreck as it would have done at any time before he went away. The knowledge hurt her, even while she felt exhilarated by the fact she was strong now. Stronger than she had ever been at any time in her life. As she looked into his eyes she thought: Is this all I had to do to get him to notice me? Should I have made him jealous over the years? Should I have fought back when he was unfaithful? Was it all really this easy? Just let him think I was being approached by another good-looking man?

Suddenly, she felt the futility of what her life had been with this man. She had loved him with every ounce of her being and he had haphazardly loved her back. She had been grateful to him for every scrap of affection he had shown her over the years, believing that he was in charge. He was the leader in their marriage, in their relationship. The knowledge stunned her in its simplicity. It was so easy and she had never before realised it. Now he was looking at her as if she was indeed his wife. He was looking at her as a woman and it felt so good. It felt so very, very good.

She smiled at him, a wide smile that didn’t reach her perfectly made-up eyes.

“I’ll forgive you, Georgio, on one condition. You never, ever speak to me like that again. I am your wife, man, your wife! Not your mistress or one of your little one-night stands. I am Mrs Donna Brunos and you had better remember that in future.’

Georgio nodded even as he fought the urge to slap the smile off her face. Donna stared into his eyes for another few moments before she looked down at her cup and said, ‘The jump is in one week. It’s to be the twenty-ninth of November and you need to cause uproar here to get the Governor to put you on a laydown. The GOAD rule must be enforced, but you must make them want to remove you from the actual prison, not just off the Wing. Eric thinks you should attack all the sex-offenders, cause a riot on the Wing, and then you must shit up the Governor to put the icing on the cake.’

Georgio listened to his wife in amazement. Today really was a revelation to him.

“I’ll shit up the Governor all right, Donna. I’ll enjoy that.’

She nodded. Looking into his eyes again, she said steadily, ‘You must cause enough of a disturbance here for them to want you out. Myself, I’d say cause a work strike or something not so violent—’

Georgio broke in. ‘Nah, stomping the nonces is the best bet, I can get all the blokes wild with that. I just make sure the screws know I caused it all, that I’m the main culprit. I suppose they’ll want me to cause it first thing in the morning?’

Donna nodded.

‘Then I’ll have to plan this myself. The twenty-ninth, you say?’ He

grinned. “I’ll have it off pat by then, my love, and then me and you will be home and dry. What’s happening with the Jiouse?’

Donna licked her lips. ‘Nothing. I’ve taken it off the market actually.’ She saw his mouth open and held up her hand.

‘I think I’d better sit it out with the house for a while, until after the jump. We can easily get it sold by auction afterwards. The whole thing’s caused too much talk already. Harry even sent that prat of a wife of his round. No, Georgio, I think it’s better for all concerned if we get you out first and then go on from there.’

He nodded agreement even as he felt a blinding rage at her taking the decision away from him.

‘If that’s what you want, Donna …’

She smiled gently. ‘It is. I’ve thought long and hard about it. Georgio.’

She was lying and enjoying lying to him. She had only just thought of it, and somehow she knew she was doing the right thing. The thought of him out, with all the money from the house and everything they possessed, frightened her even as she told herself that this was her husband, her soulmate. But nevertheless she was glad she had made the decision.

Georgio forced a smile on to his face.

‘Whatever you want, my darlin’. You do what you’ve got to do, my love.’

Donna smiled once more and lit a cigarette for herself. ‘Oh, I will, Georgio, don’t worry about that.’