Daisy in Chains(93)
‘It can’t happen again,’ she manages. ‘I am not one of your prison groupies. I can’t be your lawyer and some sort of screwed-up girlfriend.’
His voice drops to a whisper. ‘So be my lawyer. Get me out of here. Then we’ll talk.’
She presses the receiver close to her mouth and remembers the warm, plump lips she held there just hours earlier. She longs for him to say something more. Just one more thing. And then he does.
‘There is no room in my head for anything but you, Maggie Rose.’
Wolfe gets just four minutes. Everyone needs the phone tonight. Families will have seen reports about the riot on the news and will be anxious to talk to loved ones. The queue stretches down the corridor. He hands the receiver over to the next man in line and makes his way back to his room. Crusher is waiting for him, his narrow grey eyes gleaming.
Wolfe looks him in the eye. ‘So, did anybody get hurt?’
‘Couple of bruises. Split lips. Some guys will be in solitary for a few days but they’ll live. Work all right?’
Wolfe thinks back to the terrified woman in his arms. He remembers her arms going round his neck, her lips pressing against his. He holds up a hand to high-five the other bloke and grins. ‘Yeah. Good job, mate. I owe you.’
Chapter 92
The Sunday Times Magazine, Sunday, 17 August 2014
ONE DAY, ONE LIFETIME
Solicitor Rebecca Singer, who married her client, convicted murderer Jonathan Evans, in 2012, describes her typical day.
I get up early, and go out running before my son wakes at about 6 a.m. I find I need this regular discipline now that so much of my life is out of my control. I’m home in time to fix myself a fresh juice breakfast and then Jack, two, is up and it’s non-stop until I drop him off at nursery.
Jonathan tries to ring in the mornings. A lot of the other inmates sleep late, or just don’t get moving too quickly, so early in the day is when he has most chance of getting to a phone. We talk for ten to fifteen minutes and I always make sure he and Jack exchange at least a couple of words. Jack needs to know the sound of his father’s voice.
I keep a list of topics by the phone, on a small blackboard. These might be TV programmes I’ve watched, books I’ve read, current affairs that have interested me, even the spat I had with a woman in Waitrose. When you know you only have ten minutes to talk, the pressure to think of something to say can be enormous. I find I do most of the talking – I guess my life is so much more varied than his – but I make a point of being interested in the minutiae of his day, too.
Jack goes to nursery at 9 a.m. and then it’s a short drive to my offices in town. I get involved in most areas of criminal law – filing cases, investigation, visiting police stations, taking witness statements, liaising with the court, etc. – but most of my time is spent on appeals and that involves a lot of paperwork and research. I visit prisons from time to time, but never HMP Wandsworth where Jonathan is currently. That would be a potential conflict of interest. Most of my clients know nothing about my private life and I like to keep it that way.
Jack and I get home at about six and he’s usually very tired, so we just watch a bit of TV before it’s time for his bath and bed. There is a photograph beside his bed of his dad and me on our wedding day. I had a friend Photoshop it so that you can’t really tell it was taken inside a prison. I always sit with Jack until he falls asleep. Friends tell me I’m creating problems for myself down the line doing this, but Jonathan sits and looks at our photograph at exactly this time too. It is our time together as a family.
People often assume that Jack was conceived before Jonathan was convicted, but Jonathan and I met and married before we thought about having a family. HMP Wandsworth doesn’t allow conjugal visits, but as Jonathan’s solicitor I’m allowed time alone with him. We try not to take advantage of the system, but at the end of the day, we’re two people in love.
Evening is when I work for Jonathan. I manage his website, answer mail on his behalf, post blogs and Facebook stories, and of course I’m working on his appeal all the time. I write to him, too, putting down my thoughts, dreams, memories, both good and bad. I’ve discovered the incredible emotional punch that can be packed inside a good letter. It is important for me to find ways in which our unusual relationship works better than more conventional ones, and in this regard I feel we have the edge. Communicating via written correspondence really intensifies the level of our connection. There are couples that spend hours together every day who don’t have the intimacy that Jonathan and I share.
People ask me how I do this, how long I can carry on with this half-life but, knowing Jonathan, there can be no alternative for me. And it’s really not so bad. I speak to him, write to him, most days. I see him every couple of weeks. He’s not there to carry out the rubbish or take the lid off the marmalade jar, but I know I’m in his thoughts every waking hour. He thinks of no other woman but me. I’m as sure of his love as any woman can be.
People ask me if I feel my life is on hold. I understand them thinking that way but the answer is no. My life might be unconventional, my family certainly is, and of course I hope things will be different in future. For now, though, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
(Maggie Rose: case file 64/701 Hamish Wolfe)
Chapter 93