He was brought back to reality by the voice of Peter Pearson saying: ‘Crying shame, Georgio, eighteen bloody long ones. A crying shame. Should have shot the blooming lot of them.’ His voice was lost in a bubbling sound as he stuck his head under his shower nozzle, words still coming thick and fast. Georgio didn’t answer; there was nothing to say.

Turning off the shower, he wiped the excess liquid from his body and, pulling a towel around his waist, walked out into the toilet area. He was bending over the sink and cleaning his teeth when he felt a stinging sensation across his buttocks. Straightening up, he put his hand to his behind. When he looked at his fingers a second later they were red with blood. Clenching his fists, he turned and pulled off the towel, looking into the plastic-framed mirror above the washstands. He had a stripe about ten inches long across both buttocks. It was a fairly deep wound, but he knew it wouldn’t require stitches. It would be sore for a while; he would not enjoy sitting down. That was the whole idea of it.

Mr Gantry the warder smiled and shook his head slowly. ‘I get the impression they don’t like you in here, Georgio. Now I wonder why that is?’ He turned to a young boy of eighteen who was shaving but watching the commotion, and shouted: ‘Want to kiss it better for him, do you?’

The boy shook his head in fright.

‘Then finish your shave and piss off!’

Georgio was holding the towel to the wound to stem the bleeding. When the boy picked up his shaving gear and rushed out, Gantry said through gritted teeth, ‘That’s a taster from Lewis. He asked me to tell you he don’t like you, and when they ship you to the Island, he wants a word.’

Georgio looked into the man’s face and said directly, ‘You know, a lot of accidents happen in these places, and not just to the cons either. You tell whoever striped my harris that I’ll be seeing them. And you can also lay money on the fact that sometime, in some place, Mr Gantry, I’ll also be seeing you.’

Gantry laughed loudly, showing expensive false teeth. ‘You’re finished, Georgio, the word’s already out.’

Now it was Georgio’s turn to laugh, and he gave one of his handsome grins. ‘Finished - me? I ain’t even fucking started.’

Gantry grinned back. ‘I’d say you’ve started. Eighteen years sentence, that’s what you’ve started. And you’ll have to look over your shoulder for the whole time.’