‘I’m coming off the booze; it’s going to be a long night Mrs H, sorry,’ she said, lifting up a large bucket. On the floor beside her were towels, wet wipes and a bottle of water.

‘I didn’t know you were an alcoholic.’

‘For a long time neither did I, that’s the problem,’ Sheila B said.

‘What did you do, Sheila?’ Molly said.

Sheila lay down on the bed, shivering. ‘It’s fucking freezing in here.’

‘Sheila?’

‘Shoplifting.’

‘You were never a shoplifter.’

‘Yeah well, times change,’ she said, and she grabbed the bucket and puked.

‘You were doing so well when I saw you at Rabbit’s anniversary,’ Molly said.

‘Was I? Don’t remember it, I was locked.’

‘You didn’t seem locked.’

‘That’s me secret weapon,’ Sheila said, and she threw up again.

‘Why shoplifting?’

‘I knew if I got caught enough it would get me in here.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Molly said.

‘You know the way they said I was bipolar when I was younger?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Well I’ve got a personality disorder too.’

‘Oh no, I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘Can’t manage it, Mrs H. I try but I can’t do it. I know a girl who came in here for six months and they sorted her right out: good meds, made sure she took them, got her act together. It’s not so bad, you know, there’s apartments and everything in the big yard. I have to do something. I couldn’t think of anything else.’

‘God Almighty, Sheila, isn’t that what the mental health services are for?’

‘They just talk at me, take me in when I’ve totally lost it, fuck me out as soon as they can. I need help, Mrs H, I know I do, but then sometimes I don’t want it and I just want to burn everything down. In here I don’t have that choice.’

‘You’re very brave,’ Molly said.

‘Nah, I’m just desperate.’ Sheila threw her guts up again. After Molly cleaned her up, Sheila B told Molly that her daughter Sandra was marrying The Claw.

‘The fella that lost his hand to a samurai sword?’ Molly said.

Sheila began to cry. She was shaking now and scratching her skin. ‘They stitched it back on. She doesn’t want me at the wedding,’ she said, and shrugged. ‘Don’t blame her, I made a show of her at the engagement do.’

‘When is the wedding on?’

‘Early next year,’ Sheila said.

‘Well then, you’ll be on your meds and booze-free and fine by then, won’t ya?’ Molly said, and Sheila wiped the tears from her eyes.

‘Yeah,’ she said, ‘that or dead, so either way it’s a winner.’

Molly was about to scold her for such negativity when the keys rattled at the door. It opened and another female guard with a tight ponytail stood in front of them.