Kenny Bond grinned as his blonde bombshell of a wife walked towards him. Shal was only five foot one, but whenever she visited him, she looked taller because she always wore high heels. She knew he got off on a pair of stilettos, had worn them in the bedroom while stark-bollock naked before he’d had the misfortune of getting a long stretch.

Kenny wrapped his arms around Sharon and kissed her. He could sense Percy was glaring at him, so gave him a cheeky wink as he pulled away. With her pretty face, cheeky smile, infectious laugh and personality, there wasn’t a single man in this joint that wouldn’t fancy his Shal, and no way did Percy have a woman indoors. The miserable bastard looked like he’d fallen out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down.

‘Tea and a Marathon?’ asked Sharon.

‘Yeah. Go on then. Don’t take those shoes off though. I wanna watch you walk in ’em.’

‘Three times I’ve nearly stacked it since I got out the car, Ken. Stilettos and flares seriously don’t work. No way am I falling arse over tit in front of ya fellow inmates and the screws. I’ll be a bleedin’ laughing stock.’

Kenny chuckled. ‘Hurry up then. I got something important to ask ya, like I told you on the blower.’ He focused on her backside as she walked away. It looked almost edible in those jeans. Then again, she’d always had a great arse. Plump, with a bit of meat around it.

Sharon was filled with dread as she stood in the short queue. She wasn’t prepared to ruin the whole visit, knew Kenny would lose the plot, so she’d tell him the bad news towards the end.

Kenny stared at this wife’s breasts as she returned. Big and bouncy, especially in that skin-tight white T-shirt. They’d had such a good sex life on the outside, even when she was pregnant. That’s what kept him going at times. Reliving every moment they’d shared. The passion, the love, the togetherness.

‘What you grinning at?’ Sharon asked as she plonked the coffees on the table.

‘Your tits. What else?’ Kenny winked.

Sharon squeezed Kenny’s hand. ‘So, what’s this important thing you want to ask me?’

‘You remember that first night we met at that party in Canning Town? And your mate Sheila said, “You can’t date him. He’s got ginger hair and you don’t want ginger kids!”’ Kenny had planned this speech carefully, had too much time on his hands not to.

Sharon smiled. ‘Yeah. You told Sheila your hair weren’t bleedin’ ginger, it was a coppery bronze, and you weren’t hitting on me ’cause you preferred blondes.’ Sharon’s hair had been her natural colour at the time, a dullish brown.

‘Well, I was right, weren’t I, girl? We had a brown-haired son and a coppery bronze-haired daughter.’

‘Yeah. And?’

‘I want us to bang out another kid, Shal, when I get released. Aside from the fact I’ve missed watching Donny and Sherry grow up, I wanna see if the next one pops out ginger,’ chuckled Kenny. ‘We’re still gonna be young enough, ain’t we? Whaddya reckon?’