“Yes, Mr Sutcliffe.”
Out on the walkway, Hartland takes over, playing his usual games, talking as though I were a retarded five-year-old….
“Along you go, Larry. Let’s be having you.” I get a playful jab in the shoulder from his baton….
You’re going to regret it one day….
…. but I make a show of lowering my head. “Yes, Mr Hartwell.”
*****
In the visitor’s room, she’s there, seated waiting on the other side of the screen. Blondie and the other one stand behind her; a little way back, but making it clear they are listening in….
Did they tell her they came before?
She looks…. Not exactly nervous…. Wary perhaps….
Fair enough….
Be polite….
“Jennifer, good to see you. Thank you for coming.”
Ah, f**k….
Bolloxed that up from the start….
Her chin juts. “It’s Charlotte.”
Trying to keep
