But Abs also knew that Kelsey had recently lost a couple of sponsorship deals, and had heard from Vince that it was by no means a done deal that her contract on Laid in Essex! would be renewed. The word on the street was that she’d been acting like a diva on the show and had fallen out with a couple of execs. And Abs also knew that a hot young girl had joined the series, who was dating that posh movie star with the big hair, and she was getting a lot of attention. These days, Kelsey was desperate for press coverage, and was forced to piggyback on Abs’s notoriety by trying to rekindle their relationship. She’d given more than one interview hinting that Abs was the love of her life.

He listened to the thwack of the bats, the click of the ball on the ping-pong table, and the laughter of the cons. One of the players scored an unlikely winner – Abs heard the ball skitter across the floor – and someone shouted, ‘You lucky wanker.’

Balancing a piece of cheap prison issue notepaper on his knees, he picked up the ballpoint pen. Abs was no great writer himself, and he didn’t know what he wanted to say to Kelsey. Once upon a time he would have jumped at the chance of writing her a love letter, grateful for the opportunity to pour out his heart.

But he had already written one letter that day and was exhausted. He had pitched an idea to a TV network for a new reality series called Celebrity Bang-Up!, in which famous people were sent to prison and forced to play a series of party games against real cons for privileges. Every time they lost one of the games, the celebs would be locked in solitary confinement. Abs was really pleased with the pitch – he had brainstormed it with some of his mates here, who had enthusiastically contributed ideas – and he hinted in his letter to the commissioning executive that maybe, what with his considerable experience of both television light entertainment and the penal system, he may be just the right guy to present the show, if they could just wait for him to get out of HMP Pentonville.

The point of the pen hovered over the paper as he thought hard about how to respond to Kelsey. But the click of the ping-pong ball and all the laughter downstairs was distracting. Everyone sounded like they were having a good time.

Deer Kelz, he wrote. But couldn’t think what to say next. He tapped the pen against his chin, wracking his brains.

One of the cons stuck his head in the door. ‘You playing or what?’

‘Abs, mate!’ he answered, and he threw the pen across the cell, stuffed Kelsey’s letter under the mattress, and climbed off the bunk.

‘Lads.’ Stepping out of the cell, Abs lifted his arms in a rock-star pose. ‘I’m coming down!’