She turned and moved to the four blue plastic chairs that were bolted to the ground underneath a large corkboard, taking the one free chair. Various pamphlets and posters were pinned to the board, mostly outlining in no uncertain terms the dos and don’ts of prisoner visits. Don’t bring drugs or alcohol. No knives or guns. Did people really need to be reminded of that?

After scanning much of the board Dani’s eyes focused in on a leaflet discussing mental health.

How apt.

When the clock in the waiting area edged past ten fifty-eight, a set of double doors at the far end opened and two uniformed guards came out and began giving heavy-toned instructions to the crowd of people. The guards weren’t quite talking to the visitors like they were the scum of the earth, but it wasn’t far off. The crowd was quickly shepherded through the doors into the inner sanctum, one guard taking the lead. Soon Dani was the only visitor remaining on the outside.

‘Miss, are you coming or not?’ the second guard said, staring at Dani suspiciously. ‘Last chance.’

‘I’ve been told to wait for the Deputy Governor.’

‘Suit yourself,’ the guard said, shaking his head as though she were a moron.

He turned and walked through the double doors and they closed behind him, leaving Dani alone. Well, Abbott was there too, but he wasn’t exactly the best company.

It was nearly eleven-fifteen by the time a woman emerged from a different set of doors. Grey suit. Grey hair. Pale skin. She looked like she’d been put through the washing machine on a too hot setting several times over. When she smiled, however, there was a certain warmth to her face – a contrast to Abbott’s dour expression for sure. Dani got to her feet and the woman stretched out a hand.

‘Miss Stephens?’ the woman said. ‘I’m Anne Cartwright, the Deputy Governor. Please, come this way.’

‘Is there a problem?’ Dani asked, as she set off in tow.

‘Not exactly.’

Cartwright led Dani back the way she’d come, down a short corridor, and soon they were standing in a dreary and dated office that was sparsely furnished and, like the outside of the building, looked like a snapshot of the 1970s, save for the sleek laptop computer on top of the roughed-up desk.

‘Is something wrong?’ Dani asked.

‘No, of course not. I just didn’t want to have this conversation with you out there. Some visitors feel uncomfortable with that. You have to appreciate, Miss Stephens, that your brother is among the most high risk and high profile prisoners here. Access to him is heavily restricted, and we won’t allow him to be in the visiting hall with the general masses. I hope you understand that?’