Timmy slipped off the bunk and sat beside him, his big moon face visible as he pulled deeply on his match-thin roll-up. ‘Lewis is back on the Wing tomorrow, I heard the whisper. He’s only been on a laydown, twenty-eight days, that’s all. I also hear he’s after you, boyo, because of that robbery. Now there’s two camps in this dump. One is Lewis’s and the other is Lewis’s. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

Georgio didn’t answer. He wanted desperately to move his head away from the man’s breath, and the stench of his body odour.

‘The thing is, I heard another little whisper that Wilson is for the out. Now there’s something not quite kosher going on here, and I’d love to know what it is.’

Georgio rubbed his eyes roughly with his fingers. ‘So would I, Timmy. All I know is, my face was put in the frame by Wilson. That slag tucked me up. Now Lewis is jumping on the bandwagon and all. Well, he don’t scare me, we go back a long time.’

Timmy laughed softly, the sound eerie in the dimness. ‘I don’t particularly like you, Brunos, but I have to admire you. If Lewis was after me, even I’d be worried.’

Georgio laughed again. ‘Even you? What’s that supposed to mean?’

Timmy’s voice lost its friendliness. ‘What that means, arsehole, is I know Lewis and I know his clout in here. He’s got most of the cons on A Wing up his khyber, and the majority of the screws. I know he got you striped up in the Scrubs. His arm’s long, Georgio, his temper’s short, and every year he does in here it’s getting shorter. That robbery had his stamp on it, and as you already said, you two go back a long way. Now it don’t take a contender for Mastermind to suss out you’ve been a naughty boy, and Lewis has found that out. While you’re in his bad books, you ain’t safe and your family ain’t safe. It also means I ain’t safe, because we share a peter, and if he decides to burn you out, then the chances are I get burned with you. So if you have any dealings with him, I want to know.’

Georgio could understand the man’s concern. In a small part of him he was terrified of what was going to happen, but he had a plan up his sleeve, and after tomorrow he would know whether or not it was going to work.

‘Listen, Timmy, I’m tired. I’ll see Lewis tomorrow, so stop fretting your ugly head over it. All right?’

Timmy wiped a hand across his face, the scraping of his stubble loud in the silent cell.