Many of the men were in for killing their wives or girlfriends. It amazed Georgio that they could bother to kill for the kind of women he saw in the visiting rooms. Most were typical blaggers’ wives, with bleached blonde or dyed black hair, leather jackets and tight ski pants, their bra-less chests encased in tiny crop tops underneath the jackets. It was like the blaggers’ wives’ school uniform.

A few of the men had decent sorts, women they loved and respected, but these were few and far between. The average lifer had maybe three marriages under his belt by the time he was thirty-five. After each sentence he would be released and would marry a young girl, fresh-faced, well-used, and loving the notoriety of being married to an armed robber. Both the girl and the man knew it was doomed to failure, that the man would move on, the girl would move on, or the Old Bill would intervene in the happy relationship. Knowing all this, Georgio thanked God for his Donna, even though he admitted he had not been the husband she thought he was. But that was all to the good.

What Donna didn’t know, couldn’t hurt her.

Donna walked through the automatic doors and stood in front of a female warder. She held her arms outstretched while the woman felt under her bra line, along her body, and inside the waistband of her skirt. She tidied herself up while the woman went through her shoulder bag. She gave Donna a numbered key, allowed her time to take her purse from the bag and then shut it and its contents into a small locker. Opening the next set of doors, Donna was finally allowed through to the visiting area.

Parkhurst’s visiting area was quite large. It held a small canteen rather like the lock-up fastfood shops you might see on any British Rail station. This sold tea, coffee, soft drinks and sweets. As you walked through the large doors, on your right-hand side was a play area for the children, containing everything from small rocking horses to a Wendy House. Children were already happily playing there, unaware of their environment. Fathers and mothers watched them with delight.

Donna walked over to the left and the table area. The tables were spread as far apart as possible and women sat alone waiting for their spouses or sons to be brought through. Donna took a seat and placed her purse on the table. She smiled at an old woman waiting patiently at the table next to hers. The woman dropped her eyes back to her knitting and Donna sighed.

Already the buzz of conversation was quite loud. When the doors at the back of the room opened, Donna breathed a sigh of relief as she watched Georgio bound through them. He was wearing black jogging bottoms and a Lacoste shirt. He looked fit and healthy, only the lines on his face denoting the strain he was under. She stood up and he kissed her hard.