He felt the fear loosen his bowels and shifted uneasily in his chair.

Eros, the young black man who had come on to the Wing with them, started singing. Everyone had already put him down as a religious nut, which he was. Inside for murder, he was a paranoid schizophrenic who believed that certain people were asking to be killed. That they gave him subliminal signals which he acted upon, on the say-so of none other than Christ Himself. Eros was waiting to be assessed and then transferred to a top-security mental hospital. The men were used to lunatics like him and left him in peace. Unlike the public, they were capable of handling him if he became aggressive. There were plenty like him in the Wing who were left to their own devices.

‘Jesus is waiting for you! Jesus just wants you to love him.’

There was no real tune and Benjy, the joker, began singing with him.

‘And if Arsenal wins the cup, I’ll be singing on the other side of my arse!’

Everyone laughed except Eros. He answered in a deep brown rich-timbred voice: ‘You can’t mock God, boy. Jesus is watching over you all. He is here now while I am speaking!’

‘Well, tell Him to go and get me another cup of Rosie Lee then!’

The laughter was louder. Even the screws joined in, keeping their distance though because any altercation in here could turn into a war.

Benjy walked over to Eros and said loudly, ‘What punishment would Jesus give out to people who murdered and raped little children, eh? What’s the score for all that then?’

Hall and Denning stiffened in their seats.

Eros stared up at Benjy and said seriously, ‘The wages of sin is death. Suffer not the little children, He said. The bad men will scream in Hell, and their bodies will be burnt on the Day of Reckoning. For all eternity they’ll be tortured in fires of brimstone!’

Benjy pretended to wipe the sweat from his brow and said, ‘Is that all? I thought they might be forced to listen to reggae for all eternity. Now that’s what I call a punishment!’

Ricky laughed good-naturedly. ‘Your trouble is, you don’t know good music when you hear it, boy. Gregory Isaacs is a god, a musical genius.’

Benjy made a face. ‘With respect, Ricky, I’ve heard better tunes from a cat with a banger up its arse! He sings like Gazza plays football - badly!’

While the bantering was going on Georgio looked at the clock on the wall. It was just after nine-thirty.

Another half an hour till the off.

Eros began singing again, one of his own peculiar songs, and Georgio looked over at Hall and Denning, a slight grin on his face. He couldn’t wait to get started.

Then Eros stood up and began to dance with an invisible partner.