The boy was terrified and Georgio got a small kick out of this fact. ‘You’re scared of me, aren’t you?’

Broomfield nodded.

‘Enjoy raping that little girl, did you? Give you a big thrill that, did it? Want to go back for some more, do you?’

Broomfield’s face was white with shock and distress.

Georgio poked him hard in the chest. ‘Come on, big man, answer me! Scream, did she, when you was giving her one? Frightened out of her life I should think, a bit like you are now, I suppose. Horrible to be scared of someone bigger than you, ain’t it? Knowing that they can beat your head in and you can’t do a thing about it.’

Taking back his fist, Georgio slammed it into the boy’s face. Broomfield started crying, big gasping sobs. Grabbing the younger man by his hair, Georgio forced him into a shower cubicle and slammed him into the wall. Pulling the boy’s head back, he hissed, ‘Shit scared, aren’t you? Tell me what it was like with the little girl, Broomfield. Tell me what you did to her.’

He found his voice. It shook. ‘I never meant it. I swear I never meant it! She wanted me to do it. I wouldn’t have done it otherwise. Honestly, you’ve got to believe me . . .’ He was hysterical now, his face an ugly mask of fear, blood and tears.

Ricky laBrett came into the shower room with three other men. He smiled at Georgio. ‘You want some, Brunos, you can have him after me.’

Georgio shook his head. ‘He’s all yours. By the way, Ricky, according to him the little girl wanted it, he wouldn’t have done it otherwise.’

Ricky laughed, and tightened the belt strap around his hand. ‘Of course she did, like he wants it now, don’t you, white boy?’

Georgio watched as the boy was pushed to the ground. He lay spreadeagled on the tiled floor, too frightened now to do anything but give out low moans.

As Georgio walked back to his cell he heard the high-pitched scream as Ricky entered him. Sometimes the queerboys came in handy, very handy indeed.

He sat in his cell chatting to Timmy while anguished cries from the shower room carried all over the block.

No one, warden or prisoner, lifted a finger to help Broomfield.

Lewis’s radio was tuned to Classic FM as usual; Mozart’s Horn Concerto provided the accompaniment to the multiple rape in the showers.

‘You’re looking better today, Donna.’

‘I feel better actually, much better. I slept very well last night. Don’t bother with any breakfast today, just tea, I think.’

Dolly nodded, cursing Donna under her breath. In the oven was eggs and bacon. She knew Donna must have smelled it while it was cooking.

‘If anyone wants me, I’ll be over at Maeve’s, OK?’