The journey from the cells to his new home felt like forever. Donny arrived at the prison now ready to come out of the sweat box. The van had eight compartments inside it, each with its own door. He could hear someone kicking, screaming at the top of their voice. He swallowed hard and sighed as he heard voices in the compartment next to him.

‘Get me out of here, you dirty pigs, before I boom the fucking door off its hinges.’

It would be him next. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he was filled with a dull sense of dread. The sound of keys jangling. The door opened slowly, and he could see the face of the screw for the first time.

‘Welcome to Strangeways, the place that makes dreams come true,’ the guard joked.

A voice behind him made him turn round.

‘Right, Charlie, let’s get this lot booked in. I’m not in the mood for any drama today so best to let them know that. Any fucking about and I’ll personally drag them down the block myself.’

‘Message understood.’

The screw faced Donny. ‘You hear that? The boss is in a right mood today and he won’t stand for any messing about. You’ve been warned.’

As Donny was escorted from the van he squinted in the bright yellow sunlight. As he was lined up with five other new inmates, Donny twisted his head slightly to look at them. The prisoner who’d been making all the noise was being led out now – a mental case for sure. He had long black hair that looked like you could fry an egg on it, his skin looked dirty and grey and his eyes were hollow. The man next to Donny muttered to him. ‘They better not put that fucking junkie near me. He looks like he’s riddled with God knows what, the dirty bastard.’

Donny agreed. ‘He better not come near me either, fucking hell, I can smell him from here.’

The man introduced himself. ‘John Stanley, mate,’ he nodded his head.

Donny could barely get his name out in reply. ‘Donny Knight.’

John stared at Donny, weighing him up. He moved in closer. ‘What you in for, pal?’

‘Dealing,’ he said. The man shrugged, water off a duck’s back. Maybe Donny would fit in here after all. A little glimmer of an idea was lit inside Donny. Prison was a system, a rat race like any other. He’d played the game to become a headteacher. Now the game had changed but if he was smart, he could still make it work to his advantage.

Slowly, the men were marched into the prison. The junkie was still kicking off, and the screw dragged him away from the other newbies.