Frankie nodded. ‘So, no time like the present. After we’ve been to see your old man you can get the train up to Blackpool and drop some gear off. The lads will pass you some cash and your job is to get it back here to me without any bother. Easy-peasy really, isn’t it?’

Ged was still focussing on the trainers. ‘Yeah, sure,’ he mumbled. He didn’t have a clue what was going on, he was lost in the moment and admiring his new Nikes in the mirror. His dad would be impressed; he’d show him that he could fend for himself. He needed nobody to look after him anymore, he could make his own way in life now that he was going to be grafting and earning a few quid. A chip off the old block.

Fifteen minutes later, Ged carried his new gear in his bag; a black Nike tracksuit as well as the trainers, even some new socks and boxers. He felt like a million dollars. His confidence was sky high – for the first time in his life he felt like a somebody. He no longer wanted to be invisible, he wanted to stand out from the crowd and let people know that he existed. He had a voice now, and people would listen and take notice of him. He was one of Frankie’s boys now. One of the crew.

As Ged sat waiting for his name to be called in the prison visitor centre, some of the morning’s confidence began to wear thin and the nerves kicked in a bit. He was jumpy, on edge.

‘Ged Grey…’

At last it was time to go over to the main jail along with the rest of the visitors. Bleeding hell, there were some sights here today. The women were dolled up to the nines, short skirts, caked in makeup, stinking of perfume. They looked more like they were on a night out. Ged walked over towards the main building with caution.

There were a couple of men in front of him, he’d seen them while they were hanging about outside. Frankie had elbowed him, ‘Couple of junkies them two. I bet they are doing a drop.’

Ged didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.

Frankie realised that he would have to explain what he meant – the kid was so wet behind the ears, it was untrue, he seemed to know nothing about the real world and how things worked. ‘They’ll be bringing drugs into the jail. Usually the inmates pay someone to bring some shit in. These crackheads don’t give a toss about their freedom and they are willing enough to get slammed in jail for a few ton. Honest, you mark my words, keep an eye on them.’