‘The money’s there,’ she said.

‘Say ten Hail Marys and piss off.’ He laughed sarcastically.

She took one last squint through the grate.

‘Well, what are you waiting for?’ he growled. ‘Business is done for today.’

‘Thank you, Father,’ she whispered. She stood up, exited the confessional and scurried out of the chapel.

But once she was outside she didn’t go straight back to Toni’s cell as she’d been instructed to. It was imperative that she identified the contact and this could be her only opportunity.

The weather wasn’t bad, so the yard was relatively busy, unlike before when she’d followed Toni to the chapel. Not far away she noticed a group of inmates playing football, being cheered on by a few bystanders. She pulled her hood up and headed over to them, attempting to mingle with the spectators as inconspicuously as possible while maintaining an eye on the door of the chapel.

It took a long five minutes before the door opened and someone emerged.

It was Terry.

So Terry Brinkle was the source. He was definitely well concealed, or at least made an effort to be that way.

He stood by the door for a few moments, his eyes narrowed, scanning the yard to see if anyone was watching him.

She dropped her head, hiding her face beneath the hood, and made some cheering gestures at the footballers. Glancing up, she saw him walking briskly in the direction of the administration block. She imagined he was probably going to deposit the money in his locker or something like that.

A feeling of elation sparked within her. It was all starting to make sense now. Finally.

When she got back to Toni’s cell, the whole gang were there sitting around glaring at her. She felt an arctic chill of hostility and suspicion emanating from them.

‘What took you so long?’ hissed Toni, her eyes bulging in a scary fashion.

Bailey scrambled for an appropriate lie.

‘There were some screws hanging around in the yard by the entrance to the house-blocks. I was worried they might search me, so I took a detour to avoid them.’

Toni eyeballed her for a few moments, then nodded slowly, apparently satisfied with her explanation.

‘You can never be too careful,’ she said.

Bailey unzipped her tracksuit top and pulled out the package. She handed it to Toni, who hefted it in her hand, a satisfied smirk crossing her face. She tossed it to Keisha, who was sitting on the bunk. Keisha began to peel off the polythene.

The drugs consisted of two bars of what Bailey recognised as cannabis resin.

‘Each of those blocks of hash is five hundred grams,’ said Toni. ‘Each one has got twenty grams of smack and twenty grams of coke embedded in it. It’s the most efficient way of delivering it.’

Bailey nodded, carefully memorising the information.

Toni continued, ‘Once we split that up and sell it, it’ll net us in the region of forty grand or so. We can charge up to four times the street value in here, sometimes more. It’s all about supply and demand, see. And demand for that is at a premium.’