Author: Alex Kane
Category: Thriller
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/alex-kane/page,5,599714-the_new_friend.html
She felt a tap on her hip and when she looked down, Arabella saw Amy offering her another can. Taking it in her hand, she cracked it open and climbed down from the table before snorting up a second line. Then a third.
Her heart pumped in her chest and she finished her can. Arabella danced her way across the room, out of the hall and into the small kitchen of the flat she was in, remembering that she’d left some cans in the fridge. When she opened it, they were gone. She must have drunk them all.
Reaching into her pocket, Arabella felt for the small amount of cash that she had put there and headed for the door.
‘Where you going?’ Amy asked, suddenly by her side.
‘Shop. Need more booze.’ On some level, Arabella knew she should go home to Ed and sort things out, but she felt fuelled for the night, ready to dance away all the shit going on in her head.
‘I’ll come with you,’ Amy said. ‘I need more booze anyway.’
Shrugging, Arabella headed out the door and down the street. The shop was busy and suddenly the paranoia became too much. Amy was in her ear, telling her to take the cider to the counter, leave the money and go. But Arabella didn’t want to go anywhere near the front. People would see her for what she was, a waster on drugs. No, she’d wait. But Amy egged her on, telling her that no one would care and that it would be quicker than waiting in the queue. Shona was outside waiting on them.
‘Hurry up, Arabella. Just do it.’
Before Arabella knew what was happening, she was at the till, the shopkeeper telling her to calm down or she’d have to call the police. Arabella was shouting, saying that if she didn’t accept the cash then she was going to take the cider anyway. Fists flew, her own fists. She beat down on the man trying to restrain her, telling her to calm down. She was fucking calm.
There were blue lights. Arabella was screaming for the police to let go of her as she was huckled into the back of a meat wagon. Arrested? For what?
As the van began to move, and the effects of the coke began to wear off and the hangover and comedown kicked in, Arabella knew she was in deep shit. Attempted robbery and GBH. The one thing that she couldn’t get over was the officers telling her that she was carrying enough coke in her pocket to bring a charge of intent to supply.
She’d only had one line back at the party, or was it more than that? It wasn’t something she often did. So, where the hell had the coke that the police had found in her pocket come from?
She’d been set up.
‘Fuck!’ Arabella said, before beginning to sob in uncontrollable waves. What the fuck had she done? Eddie had warned her against going out with that crowd and she hadn’t listened. Now look at the state she was in.
An officer slammed the back door of the van and she let out a long, painful wail of a cry.
Chapter Ten
The door to the prison transport vehicle opened and natural light flooded inside. Arabella squinted and glanced up at the building. It didn’t look much like a prison from where she was standing, but that didn’t help the intense nausea she felt now as she stepped out of the van and onto the ground. However, she quickly realised that actually, she didn’t know what the inside of a prison was supposed to look like, given that she’d never served time in one. Arabella wondered if the television representations of prisons were what she could expect. For her, real life had always been worse than television dramas.
After her initial arrest, she’d been out on bail for just eight weeks before her case was up in court. She’d pleaded guilty to assault and robbery, as advised by her lawyer. He’d said that in doing so she’d get a lesser sentence. How naive she’d been. She’d expected community service, but when the judge threw ten months at her, Arabella had almost collapsed in the dock. The metal cuffs around her wrists forced her to think of the stretch ahead of her and how her freedom was waiting for her back in Glasgow.
‘Right hen, come on. I’ll show you inside and we’ll get you processed, eh?’ The male guard said, offering a soft smile.
Hearing the echo of keys on chains and the slamming of security doors, a feeling of displacement hit her hard as she stood at the entrance desk to be processed. ‘Processed’ like she was just a number. A barcode. How could she have been so stupid to have let this happen? Her life had been going fine until she’d bumped into her old group of friends from high school.
‘Right, Arabella MacQueen?’ The female behind the desk asked. Looking up from her cuffs, Arabella nodded in response.
If she’d just said no to their invitation to catch up, she could be sitting at home with Eddie right now, having a normal day. If she’d just listened to him instead of putting her guard up, she wouldn’t be here right now. Shaking her head at her own failings, she closed her eyes.
‘And do you have any concerns that we could assist you with? Any kids at home? Pets? Left your door unlocked?’ The woman asked, interrupting Arabella’s thoughts again.
‘No, my boyfriend’s at home. We don’t have any kids,’ she replied. Thank god she didn’t have any of that to worry about. Although the guilt of what she was putting Eddie through was hitting her hard now. Eddie was a tough guy, not someone to show his feelings, but she knew deep down that her absence would affect him.
Thinking about her past and what had led her to prison, Arabella knew that she’d lived her life via the self-destruct button, doing whatever she could to block out the pain of being abandoned by her mother. Her downward spiral had started early – drinking cider with her mates. A group of them had gathered in the local woodland which connected the village she lived in with the next town, a place notorious for local teenagers’ parties. Even the police avoided it at times, unless it became too rowdy. One of the lads in the group had managed to get his older cousin to buy everyone a cheap bottle of cider each and a couple of packs of cigarettes to share between them. Arabella had only been fifteen at the time and knew it was wrong. Her foster parents would have killed her if they’d caught her. But for her, that was the thrill of it. Knowing that at any moment, she could be found out and likely grounded. The foster family said they cared about her, which was why they gave her a curfew of eleven pm. The rest were allowed to roam the streets for as long as they wanted. She’d found it unfair, but thinking back, that was the kind of thing her own mother should have been doing. Caring for her instead of choosing the bottle.
‘Any alcohol or drug dependencies that we can offer you support with, Arabella?’
‘No. I used to. But not anymore,’ she said, keeping her head down.
‘And you’re here on possession of?’ The woman prompted.
Clearing her throat a little louder than she’d anticipated, Arabella said, ‘Cocaine.’
‘Okay,’ the woman scribbled something down with her pen. ‘And is that still a problem?’
Was it still a problem? Arabella asked herself. Well, yes, she supposed it was. The fact that she couldn’t say no to it after being clean for eight years – then the minute she was back with those people had fallen under their influence again – spoke volumes. ‘If you’re asking me if I’m addicted to coke then the answer is no. I’m more addicted to pleasing people, that’s a less expensive habit. Well, in monetary terms at least.’
The woman’s expression didn’t change as Arabella told her the truth. That was how she’d got into trouble in the first place, trying to please her mates into thinking she was a hard nut. And she was, to an extent. But to end up in jail because of it was beyond what she’d ever expected to happen.
That first night in the woods with her mates all those years ago, the cider and the cigarettes had just been the start. What came afterwards was worse. The need for the buzz of being drunk at the weekends had led to an addiction to getting high from harder substances than alcohol. That was when she’d started smoking weed. The rest of her friends were doing it, so why shouldn’t she? But weed wasn’t the kind of buzz she’d been looking for.
That was when she’d found cocaine. One of the lads had stolen a small amo
unt from his older brother and Arabella had been one of the first to try it. She’d volunteer to try anything first to make herself look good. And she had no fear of what she was putting into her body because there was nothing worth living for. Not that she was suicidal; she didn’t want to die, she just wasn’t particularly fond of living either. The rush had been incredible and she knew from then on that it would be her downfall. It was lucky for her that she didn’t have enough money for the coke to become a habit, unlike addicts who did have the cash to fund it. All Arabella could get was a line or two off someone else’s stash, or the chance to chip in for a couple of grams with someone at a party. It didn’t matter how long it had been since the last time she’d taken it, she always ended up saying yes to it.
Now, Arabella was being led to a cell, away from the world she’d built with Eddie. A nice flat, nice clothes and a boyfriend who cared for her. He was patient with her about how she dealt with her past. But she’d fucked up, royally fucked up and because of that, she’d lost her job and would be spending the next ten months in a cell with a stranger. Although Eddie had been angry, he’d said he’d wait for her. But would he? If she lost Eddie, what would happen to her? Not knowing the answer to that scared her more than being in prison.
‘Okay, Arabella,’ the male guard said. ‘This is you.’
Peering in, she saw another female sitting on the edge of the bottom bunk bed. She was reading a book, and glanced up from the pages when Arabella stepped inside.
The guard disappeared, leaving Arabella on her own with this stranger, who was still looking up at her from the bunk.
‘A’right hen?’ she said. ‘First time inside, is it?’
Arabella moved further inside the cold room and sat on the chair. ‘How did you know?’
‘Your face says it all. You don’t have to look so terrified, I’m not a murderer,’ the woman said.
Arabella managed a smile and felt herself relax when the smile was returned.
‘I’m just in for attempt.’ She winked and then laughed. ‘I’m Roxanne.’
Arabella laughed with her, but wasn’t sure if Roxanne was kidding or not. ‘Arabella.’
‘How long you in for?’
‘Ten months. You?’
‘That’s fuck all, love. I’ve been in here for nine years. The last year is dragging. Just think, you’ll be out of here just before me.’
Arabella felt her stomach roll. Ten years was a long time to be in a place like this. Maybe she wasn’t kidding about the attempted murder. She’d have to get on this person’s good side if she wanted to survive her own sentence.
‘Fuck’s sake,’ Arabella says.
‘Och, my choice, hen. Battered fuck out of someone because they owed me money. Was worth it though. I did get my cash in the end. Well, my man got it for me.’ Roxanne closed the book. ‘So, what did you do to land yourself a sentence in this shite hole?’
Arabella thought about that night. Her memories were still hazy. If it hadn’t been for the CCTV and several witnesses, she may not have remembered much at all.
‘Attempted robbery, GBH and possession of cocaine,’ she replied in a quiet and guilt-ridden tone.
Roxanne pursed her lips. ‘You don’t seem like the type.’
I’m not, Arabella thought.
‘Just goes to show the saying is spot on. It’s the quiet-looking ones you’ve got to watch out for, eh?’
Arabella regarded Roxanne and her observation. They’d only met just moments before and there were already assumptions in Roxanne’s head about the kind of person Arabella was. It caused an unsettling feeling within her, because she’d been clean for eight years, trying to stay on the right side of the law, until that one stupid night she’d gone against everything she’d worked so hard to achieve.
Roxanne turned her attention back to her book and leaned back against the wall. As Arabella took in the surroundings, her new home for the best part of the next year, she swallowed back the lump in her throat. She couldn’t cry in front of this woman. She couldn’t cry in a place like Kirktonhill Women’s Prison.
She placed her belongings on the bed and didn’t really know what to do next. If she’d never known the meaning of lost before, she did now.
‘So, what did you attempt to steal, then?’ Roxanne asked, slamming her book closed so loudly that Arabella jumped.
‘Booze,’ she sighed. ‘And cigarettes.’
Roxanne laughed. ‘Wisnae really worth a ten-month stretch, was it?’
Arabella shook her head. Was anything worth a stint in prison?
‘Don’t look so down in the dumps. Least you’ve got a decent cellmate. I heard this one lassie in here say that she was sharing with a woman who had night terrors. Apparently, she woke up many a night, fighting with the fresh air. That would do my nut in. Imagine waking in the middle of the night to see some rocket trying to knock seven shades of shit out of someone who isn’t there.’
Arabella couldn’t help but laugh at the picture Roxanne painted. The woman smiled at her and Arabella felt her shoulders loosen. ‘I hope you’re not a sufferer of night terrors.’
‘No chance of that, love. But I can’t promise I won’t snore.’
‘Ha, I can’t promise that either,’ Arabella joked.
They fell silent again for a while and Arabella watched as Roxanne pulled a pack of cigarettes from her trouser pocket and lit one. A wave of confusion washed over Arabella then.
‘You want one?’ Roxanne said, as if seeing the look on Arabella’s face and mistaking it for something else.
‘No thanks. Won’t the officers be able to smell that?’
‘Don’t worry about it. It’s not a problem.’
Arabella watched as Roxanne got up and moved to the window. Already Arabella was beginning to sense that this woman had some kind of presence at Kirtonhill. Perhaps becoming friendly with her would be a good thing, she thought.
The smell of the cigarette ignited in Arabella the need for some nicotine. ‘Changed my mind if the offer’s still going?’
Roxanne removed the packet from her trouser pocket and flicked it open before holding it out. Arabella slid one out and took the lighter from inside too.
Feeling the nicotine as it gushed into her system relaxed Arabella further and soon she sat down on the chair and the women smoked their cigarettes in silence. As much as Roxanne had been nice to her up until this point, Arabella didn’t want to make a nuisance of herself. For all she knew, this woman wanted to be on her own, but being in prison meant she didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.
She thought about Eddie now, and what he might be doing. He’d be at the van centre no doubt, sorting out the diary for MOTs and services, arranging hires and sorting wages. She remembered the process of his job, having worked there for a short time before going into hairdressing. As the owner, he’d be busy and the ten months would go by in the blink of an eye for him. Arabella was beginning to miss him already. Instead of being at home with him, she was stuck in this place with a woman she didn’t know.
Pulling deeply on her cigarette, Arabella held it in her lungs and stared out of the window. She hadn’t expected much of a view when she pictured herself in her prison cell but the room she was in with Roxanne faced out onto a housing estate around half a mile away on the other side of the fence which surrounded the prison. It wasn’t just any old council estate either. The houses were brand new, by the look of it. Arabella could see that there was still a sign up stating that the show home was still open for viewing. She was thankful for the view, for still being able to see some sort of civilisation on the other side. It helped her to keep a connection with the outside world.
‘Why would you want to buy a house that sits opposite a prison?’ Roxanne remarked. ‘And those houses aren’t cheap either. I’ve looked them up on Rightmove. Some of them start off at one hundred and eighty grand. I mean, why pay that for something that has a prison overlooking your garden?’
Arabella laughed. ‘They�
�re not that close.’
‘Hen, that guy?’ Roxanne pointed. Arabella glanced in the direction in which Roxanne was pointing and saw a very small outline of a man in a garden. ‘He’s hanging his boxers on the line. You can practically see the stain where his skid marks used to be.’ Roxanne giggled.
Arabella snorted and the women started to laugh uncontrollably together. This wasn’t how she’d expected her first moments in Kirktonhill to go. She’d imagined sitting, long day after long day, wondering how she’d managed to get it so wrong, even with someone like Eddie by her side.
She’d have plenty of time to work out where she went wrong. Ten months was a long time to think things over.
2021
Chapter Eleven
The wheels hit the tarmac and the passengers did that weird thing of applauding the pilot for not killing them all on the flight. Why? Cole thought. It was stupid. You wouldn’t applaud a bus or taxi driver, would you? Of course, these thoughts were just distractions for what he was about to do. Getting to Glasgow was stressful enough without thinking about retrieving his case and getting through the customs barrier. He had practised his poker face many times, the innocent look that he needed to perfect for when he came face to face with the customs officers behind that desk in the airport.
As soon as the plane pulled into the stand, everyone started to unclick their seatbelts and get to their feet to retrieve their hand luggage. Cole sat perfectly still, as the flight attendants had advised, remaining in his seat. Maybe that in itself made him look suspicious but he couldn’t make his legs work at that moment. Even if he could stand up, he’d probably shit himself through nerves.
Moments later, he was moving slowly along the aisle of the plane towards the exit at the front. The low thrum of voices around him echoed loudly in his ears and he chose to focus on that to get him through these next few minutes.