Читать книгу Wrath - Anne Davies - Страница 9

I woke early this morning and lay there thinking about Katy. I hadn’t seen her since that last day in court. I hadn’t heard from her at all. Where was she? Who was looking after her? There was no one I could ask. We’d never been away from each other for more than a night or two when we’d stayed at friends’ houses. It was bad enough not having her around the corner let alone not speaking to her for so long.

I eat all my meals with everyone else now. I’ve tried not to, but I can’t help but look forward to those three meals a day. Yesterday, after I finished breakfast, the guard said to me, “Come with me. The boss wants to speak to you.”

I looked up, surprised. “Why?”

“No idea, mate, but on your feet.”

“Okay, Mr Owen, I’m coming,” I said, brushing my hair down quickly.

He laughed. “It’s just ‘Owen’, not ‘Mr Owen’. Owen is my first name.”

I realised then that the staff here wouldn’t want any of us to know their surnames. Too easy to track them down and cause trouble later on if anyone had a grudge. Using an adult’s first name seemed friendly, but nothing here is as it seems. Owen stood outside the door again, and I stepped out in front of him.

“Go straight down the steps and then turn left.”

I walked down the steps, conscious that he was right behind me. What did he think I was going to do? Throw myself head-first down the stairs and finish myself off? I turned and walked straight towards a double door. He stepped to one side and entered the code, and the door opened. I blinked in surprise. A long passage opened in front of me, and on either side were windows into large, well-lit rooms.

As I walked along, I could see that each room was a classroom of sorts. About 12 boys were in each room. I didn’t have time to see what they were doing. In some rooms, they seemed clustered around a teacher; in others, they were sitting at desks or working at benches. Passing several guards, Owen quickened the pace behind me, and I could feel his hand on the small of my back.

“Step it up,” he said, “Mr Khan is waiting.” We came to the end of the passage, and then he stepped past me and knocked on a door.

“Come in,” a voice called. Owen opened the door and motioned me inside. I stepped in, my eyes directly on the man in front of me. Mr Khan was only about my height. He was Indian-looking and dressed in a dark-grey suit, white shirt and tie. He stepped lightly and quickly around the desk, his hand outstretched.

“Hullo, Luca. My name is Abraham Khan. I’m pleased to meet you.” He pulled a wry face. “Although I’m sure you’re not too pleased to meet me under the circumstances.”

His hand was warm and firm. Something in my belly clenched with a kind of shock, and he looked me straight in the eyes. How long it seemed since someone had touched me in a friendly way! I kept my face impassive, however, and he released my hand. Motioning to a chair, he sat down behind his desk.

“I know how difficult it must be for you to get used to this place—its rules, its loneliness—and, given the nature of the crime that got you here in the first place, you’ll be here until you’re 18.” He paused and looked at me for a long moment. Despite my effort to not react to anything or anyone, I heard my voice break the silence.

“I know. They told me I would be here till I was 18 and then I’d be transferred to an adult prison.”

He looked down at his desk, a small frown line between his eyes. “Yes. That means you will be here for just over two years. Your 16th birthday is…” he glanced down at a file, “July 30th! Very soon!” He smiled.

I felt a wave of annoyance. Big deal. Of what importance were birthdays in here except to mark another year out of my life, another year I’d been locked up like a dog?

“I know what you must be thinking.”

My head jerked up. How could he know? He got to walk out those doors every night to his home, his family, his life. But then—he hadn’t taken anyone else’s life. He hadn’t done anything so bad that he needed to be shut away from ordinary people. Hell, if I’d been a few years older and living in an earlier time, I’d be swinging on the end of a rope by now.

“You feel angry, lost and … hopeless.” Mr Khan’s warm, brown eyes fastened onto mine. My eyes filled suddenly with hot tears. In a panic, I chomped down hard on the inside of my cheek to stop them. It was the way he’d looked at me: sympathetic, kindly and almost loving. It wasn’t so much what he said but that he actually wanted to see past the monster boy to the person behind the shell I had formed around myself. I drew a quick, shuddering breath and looked back at him, a little more under control now that I could taste blood.

Mr Khan went on. “This can be a rapid learning time for you, Luca. Even though you feel cut off from everything you know and love, there is a lot of progress that can be made by you, even within the confines of these walls.”

I frowned instinctively. What the hell was he talking about? He glanced down at the file again. “Your teachers at your high school have all commended you highly, particularly in science and maths, and they all commented on your maturity and intelligence beyond your years—although one teacher acknowledged that it was clear that you were not particularly happy but showed no inclination to let on to her what the problem was.”

That must have been Ms Lake, my English teacher. She had asked me a couple of times to stay behind after class and talk—if I wanted to—about anything that was worrying me, but I had just said that I was fine, and she’d left it at that. I felt exposed—as though a spotlight were on me—just as I’d felt in the courtroom, and I squirmed involuntarily.

“We have excellent teachers here. They are very dedicated and used to dealing with all levels of problems. You’ve missed quite a lot of school over the past weeks, so you’ll be starting again on Monday. I’ve put you in a class that may be at a lower level than your old class, but you have some catching up to do. The teacher, Mrs Shiels, will assess you and let me know if and when you are ready to go into a higher level.” Mr Khan paused and leaned back in his chair. “But that’s not the only sort of progress I’m talking about. The time you have alone and also with the other boys, many with severe problems, may help you come to understand yourself as well as others. You may develop compassion for them as well as for yourself.”

I looked down, and a wave of annoyance flickered through me. “What’s the point of any of it? I’d still be locked up. I won’t be able to actually do anything in the real world no matter how much I learn.”

“You may not always be in prison, Luca. There is always hope.”

Sneering a little, despite myself, I said, “There was no time set on how long I was to be locked up. I know that I’m here for another two years, and then I go to the men’s prison and God knows how long I’ll be there for—probably till I die.” My voice cracked and trailed off, my heart thudding. There was a long silence, and Mr Khan frowned thoughtfully.

“Yours is an interesting case. If only you had said something at your hearing in your own defence. As it was, a decision was made based on the evidence alone.” He paused. “And that evidence was very damning. You rang the police and confessed to what you had done and then didn’t speak again. The only witness was your sister, and she said very little too, apart from confirming what you had said.” My heart pounded even more at the mention of Katy, but I silently counted slower and slower until it thumped more quietly.

I studied the desk. It looked expensive, maybe an antique, and oak, I think—no, darker than that, maybe mahogany—with a dark-green leather inset on the top and gilt leaves embossed around the border. Dad would have liked it. He used to always show me the different grains and patterns in different types of wood. I studied that pattern, counting every leaf, willing my mind to calm down and get back under control.

“Is there anything you want to say to me now?” Mr Khan asked, his eyebrows raised and his dark eyes never leaving my face. My face twisted in a wry grin. He smiled ruefully back. “Yes, well, I guess if you stayed silent in spite of all the questioning, you’re hardly going to confide in a stranger now, are you?” He drew a long breath and then said, “You’re not quite 16 yet, Luca. The law doesn’t view crimes by minors in the same way it does crimes by adults. Of course, you must be here, and later in an adult facility, because of the nature of your crime, but it doesn’t mean you’ll be locked up for life.”

I turned away from those dark eyes. “I killed two people. I won’t be going anywhere for a long time; I know that much. I can understand you’re trying to give me hope so I’ll act like a model prisoner and not cause any trouble, but you’re wasting your time on me,” I said.

“Have it your own way for now, but you need to start learning again and mixing with the others more. You’ve needed some time to settle in, but there’s a lot you can do while you’re in here to prepare for life afterwards.” Mr Khan glanced at me quickly. “You’ll be spending more time with the other boys. There are sports and hobbies available. You’ve been under observation here since you arrived. That’s why you’ve been alone so much. You’ve behaved well so far.” He straightened the papers in the file—my file—and closed it dismissively. “Of course, if that changes in any way, those privileges will cease. Usually, a case manager is assigned to every boy in here. There seems little point in that while you are so unwilling to talk. We’ll review that situation as we go.”

He stood. There was no warm look in his eyes now. Probably I hadn’t responded quite in the way he intended. I looked as disinterestedly as I could at the bookcase behind his desk, my eyes no longer meeting his. I glanced over the titles I could make out. They all dealt with juvenile crime. A bit one-dimensional, the old Mr Khan. The interview was over. Mr Khan’s smile seemed a little forced as he said, “I’ll speak with you again in a week or two, Luca.” Then he nodded at Owen, who opened the door behind me. I stood and walked ahead of him without speaking. I just wanted to get back to my room to go over all of this and get back to feeling in control of myself again, away from people.