The ride was hell. Nikki almost had a panic attack when the bus pulled up next to a police car at a set of lights. She almost had another one when she imagined what would happen if the condom split open.

She also thought about him. About the man she loved. She’d only just resigned herself to losing him. After months of crying herself to sleep, she had made a vow to get on with her life. She would start over, never see him again. Yet here she was, packed with drugs, sitting on a bus, on her way to break that promise.

Nikki was soaked in sweet and buzzing with anxiety by the time the bus dropped her opposite the prison gates. Thankfully she was wearing all black: a knee-length skirt, a button-up long-sleeve blouse, and flats on her feet. The Prospect hadn’t told her what to wear, only that she mustn’t look like a slut.

As she crossed the road, she took in the scene in front of her. She’d never been to a prison before – Riley hadn’t let her visit him while he awaited trial. It was as bad as she’d thought it would be, all cyclone fencing and ugly, boxy buildings. Even the grass looked dry and half-dead. She tried not to think too much about how Riley must have felt when he’d arrived here a month or so earlier. Or how he must still be feeling now.

She was ordered away from the main gate by a gruff bloke in a blue uniform. ‘Visits are over there,’ he barked as he pointed towards a modern building clinging to the side of the gatehouse.

The waiting room was mostly populated by prams and pregnant women, many of them teenagers. A young mother rattled a handful of coins and swore at her kid.

‘Sit down, ya little shit,’ she yelled. ‘Your father is going to give you a fucking hiding when he sees you.’

There were a few older people too: mums, dads, brothers, sisters and wives, she guessed. They also held coins in their hands, but sat silently, looking as if they were in a funeral home. Nikki walked towards the counter.

‘ID,’ the woman ordered.

Nikki had it ready and waiting.

‘Locker number thirty-four,’ the woman said as she handed Niki a piece of paper containing a four-digit code.

‘We’ll call you when it’s time to go in.’

‘What’s the locker for?’ Nikki felt stupid but had to ask.

‘First time, love?’ the woman asked. ‘Everything has to go in the locker. Your purse, phone; everything except for your coins, but no more than ten bucks.’

‘Oh, okay,’ Nikki said. ‘Thanks.’