Zig shrugged.
“What was it like?”Si asked softly.“Being inside?”
It was shit, was the first response that sprang to mind, but that had been down to what had been going on inside his head as much as prison life.“Wasn’t great.No booze, and I didn’t wanna touch the drugs.You never knew what you were getting into.You lose all control over everything—what you eat, what you do most hours of the day.And you’re stuck inside with all these other bastards, half of ’em blokes you’d cross the Thames to avoid on the outside.Can’t get away from them, even the ones who’re fucking psycho.Safest thing is to keep your head down.Not get noticed.”Zig laughed bitterly.“You wouldn’t have recognised me in them days.Had me hair natural colour and everything.”Some days, he hadn’t even known if he was stillhimor if he’d actually turned into the drab, colourless drone he saw in the mirror and would stay like that forever.
Si squeezed his hand.“Sounds rough.”
Was that pity in his eyes?Zig didn’t like it.Didn’t deserve it.He lightened his tone deliberately.“Could have been worse, though.I went to a better nick than me dad or Trent did.First offence, see?There were lots of educational courses you could sign up for.Read a lot of books to pass the time after lock-up.”
“Yeah?What did you read?”
“Old books, mainly.Classics.”Zig found himself smiling.“Stuff like me gran used to read.Oh, she liked her Mills and Boon, don’t get me wrong, but she had a load of books by Dickens and Thomas Hardy, Jane Austen, Laurie Lee—that sort.Got them all in them cheap editions they sell for a quid a throw.She reckoned they weren’t that different, a lot of ’em.All about love and marriage.Only in bigger words, and more of ’em.”
“You didn’t have one of these modern prisons, with a telly in your cell?”
“Oh, we had a telly.Me cellmate didn’t read, though, so I let him choose what was on.Then I’d open me book and tune it all out, cos there’s a limit to how many reality shows I can take.”
“He didn’t read, or he couldn’t read?”
“He could read a bit.But not enough to want to read a book, you know?Dunno if he was dyslexic or what.He was older, older than me dad, so maybe he never got diagnosed.He used to get me to read stuff to him—letters and that.”Zig laughed.“Asked me to read from me book, one time, but it wasJude the Obscureso I wasn’t that surprised he never asked twice.”
Si scratched his head.“Not read that one.Too obscure?”
“Too bleedin’ depressing, more like.It’s about a bloke who never gets to live his dreams.Only worse.I’d tell you the worst bit, but then you’d be depressed and all.”
“I’ll pass, ta.What are you reading now?”
Heat rose in Zig’s face.“Pride and Prejudice.For like the six millionth time.”So he’d felt the need of a comfort read.So what?
Instead of the derision Zig had half expected, Si cocked his head to the side.“I remember my mum watching that on the telly.Have you got to the bit where he rips half his clothes off and dives in the lake?”
“Hate to break it to you, but that’s not in the book.”
“No?Ah, well.Probably works better on screen anyway.”
“You’re not wrong there.”Zig paused.“Are you okay about this, then?Me being an old lag?”
“You ain’t that old,” Si said vaguely, like he was still considering the question.Then he took a breath and looked Zig in the eye.“Way I see it, you done your time, haven’t you?Paid your debt to society, all that bollocks.And you saved that bloke’s life, maybe.So yeah, I’m okay with it.Long as you’re out of all that now?”His eyes turned pleading, and he swallowed.
Zig’s heart clenched so hard he could barely breathe.“Yep.Well out of it all.”And he was.He was never going back to that life, not even if Dad turned up on their doorstep and—
Nope.Not gonna think about it, cos that wasn’t gonna happen.How would Dad find him here?Zig forced his body to relax.
Si was smiling at him, and that helped.It helped a lot.“Well, then.Reckon we’re okay.”He reached over and squeezed Zig’s shoulder.“Now, I’d better call me mum before she sends a search party, but it ain’t likely to take long.How about I take you out afterwards?We can head off on the bike, get some lunch out somewhere.”
Zig’s smile came easier now.“Sounds great.Apart from the helmet hair.”
Si laughed.“If there’s anyone who can make it work, it’s you.”
Zig’s insides warmed.“You call your mum.I’ll sort this lot out.”He picked up their plates—the remains of their breakfasts now cold and congealed to the point he’d probably need a chisel to wash up—and headed into the kitchen.
“You don’t have to—” Si started.
Zig shoved both plates into his left hand so he could flip a middle finger up at the daft bastard with his right.“I think you meant, ‘Cheers, mate, you’re a star.’”
He made plenty of noise filling the sink and clattering the pans around, partly to give Si some privacy for his call but also cos he didn’t fancy having to listen to Si’s side of the conversation.His mum would most likely be giving Si grief over Zig’s continued presence.The thought of it was enough to harsh the buzz he’d been feeling since telling Si the worst and not being chucked out on his ear.But only a little.
And he wasn’t gonna feel guilty.Si knew everything now, and he still wanted Zig around.
