Angel 68 (long night)

Late the night before, she’d walked down to the corner shop to get out of the house, took a notion, and brought a fish supper back with her. Adam grabbed handfuls to mash together in couch and carpet, but ate more than her. She’d only managed a few chips, her appetite gone, but the vinger smell lingered on the tips of her fingers as she cleared the mess.

Adam rested in the nook of Angel’s arm. She lay a cushion on her bony hip, eased him onto it. Neck lolling and head askew, she pulled him closer and rubbed at his soft hair, he fell asleep almost immediately

Adam shifted in her lap. His eyes opened and shut, checking her out, before drifting back into a dribbling sleep. She envied him that. It was still too early for other mothers to be up and about. The window was half open, to let a fly out and some fresh air in. The edge of the blind clicked against the window sill. A dawn silhouette of the prison, in driving rain, emerged in the gaps.

Lifting Adam she eased him into his cot, checked he was asleep and still breathing. She tiptoed away. Then came back and stood above him, choking with fright that something might happen to him. But she knew she had to run a bath. The funeral was in a few hours and she could smell her sour body and Adam would need to be bathed too.

Deciding what clothes he would wear was easy, but what she was going to wear, a clothing Gordian knot. Darting into the toilet she sat on the pan, reaching over and turned the bath on. Someone had left a bottle of some blue smelly stuff, she added it to the water. She quickly washed her hands and returned to her room. Adam hadn’t noticed her slip away.

Towels were her priority, she needed clean towels. She hadn’t done a washing for god-knows how long and the cupboard was full of unwashed clothes. She padded across barefoot and opened the door. It reminded her of the smelly cupboard Tony threatened to fling her in when they were younger, which made her smile, because sometimes he did shove her in. She wondered if she should phone him, but she knew how it would go and she’d far too much to do.

She heard footsteps in the hall and recognised them as Church’s.  Her hand brushed against the edge of the couch as she edged towards the door and looked out and across to the kitchen. Angel tiptoed across the lobby, catching the guard unaware.

‘I thought that was my job,’ Angel smiled at her. ‘Staring out windows, wishing I was somewhere else.’

‘You want tea?’ Church blinked away a tired half-smile. Her fingers traced a pattern on the rim of her red KitKat mug. ‘I’m knackered.’

‘Yeh, I’ll have a cup.’ Angel slid into a seat on the bench, facing her. Moving a pair of tights, nylon legs hanging like a cobweb, out of the way. She yawned, mimicking Church.

Church asked her, ‘You getting the wee wan ready for the service, later?’

‘Aye,’ Angel nodded, and bit her lips.

Church pulled the tea caddy from the cupboard, and pulled the lid off.  She shook her head, arched her back and stood on tiptoes to check the back of the shelf. ‘Nae T-bags.’

Angel smiled because she looked so pissed off. ‘Wasnae me,’ then added, ‘I’m fine with coffee, but only if there’s sugar. Is there sugar?’    

Church held a fist over her mouth as she spluttered and coughed. She hoiked the chipped white sugar canister from the shelf and jerked off the silver lid and peered inside. ‘There’s a bit, but not much.’ Her voice went up a notch. ‘We’re really not supposed to cater for everybody, and everybody is meant to chip in and replace what they use.’

‘Aye, I know,’ Angel rubbed her hand against the grain of the wooded table, ‘but you’re forgetting one very important point.’

‘What’s that?’

‘We’re all criminals here.’

Angel laughed at the expression on her face. It felt like a long time since she’d laughed. She stopped as suddenly as she started, when she heard footsteps in the hall. A new arrival was standing in the doorway hugging her arms to her chest. Her long hair in ringlets curtained her pudgy face. She wore a jade-green gown with a red dragon design.

‘Hi Toyah,’ Church glanced at her. ‘I’m sorry there’s no tea. You want coffee.’

‘Suppose,’ she sniffed. ‘Not fussed. I’ll just have the same as yous.’

Angel slid along the bench to make room for her and Toyah glanced at her before huffing and sitting down.

Toyah rubbed at spot on her chin. She was older than Angel, late twenties, would have been her guess.

‘Whit you in for?’ Toyah asked, out of the side of her mouth. She kept a beady eye on Church.

‘Attempted murder,’ Angel was weary with herself, with the scripted parts of her life that went round and round. ‘Whit you in for?’

‘Och, nothing, bit of benefit fraud.’ She leaned on her elbow, to make herself comfortable and stared at Angel, innocently. ‘They added it all up and said I’d taken tens of thousands. It was all shite. I did nothing wrang.’

‘Right,’ Angel stood up, eased herself past the clothes horse with children’s brightly coloured sock on it and past the freezer. She didn’t want to listen to her whinging. 

‘I’ll not bother with coffee,’ she informed Church when the guard looked over.

‘I’m just going to check on my wain,’ she told Toyah.

‘Aye, you’ve got a kiddie then?’ Toyah bounced up and down and nodded.

‘Suppose so,’ Angel lingered at the door. ‘Or I wouldnae be here. It’s a mother and baby unit, after all.’

Toyah scrutinised her, eyes narrowing. Her voice had a practiced hardness. ‘That’s whit I meant, but wisnae sure, you look so young yerself. You look about twelve.’ She jerked the corner of her robe around the fat globes of breasts and stared straight ahead.

‘Aye, sorry,’ Angel shook her head. ‘I’ve a few things on my mind. Nae offence meant.’

Church clinked three mugs together, out on the work surface. She poured boiling water into two. ‘It’s her wee girl’s funeral today,’ she explained to Toyah.

‘Sorry!’ Toyah’s mouth fell open. ‘I never knew’