Chapter Three

They both jumped up. “Sorry,” Jenny said. “It was only for a second. We’re both exhausted.”

“You were told to make your beds straight away.” The screw stopped and sniffed. “You’ve been smoking pot!”

They were silent. “Stand to attention!” the screw snapped. She looked at the floor, and spotted the joint, still smouldering between Jenny’s foot and Cal’s. “You’ll answer for this!”

“I didn’t!” Jenny began, then stopped, partly because the screw cried, “Silence!” and partly because she’d learnt as well as anyone in prison that you didn’t grass. Cal might or might not volunteer the information that she was the culprit.

But Cal didn’t get the chance even if she’d been going to. It was assumed from the start that they were both involved.

The screw called from the door, “Call Officer O’Hara!” She added to the two girls, “The duty senior will deal with this.”

The duty senior, so called, was the same senior screw who’d threatened Jenny with the cane when she arrived. Jenny’s heart sank. She came in, looked at Jenny, looked at the joint which the junior screw showed her, and said, “I see.”

“First you didn’t make your beds when you’d been told to,” she said, as they stood to attention before her. “As for this, you may be new, but you can’t tell me you didn’t know that smoking this stuff’s forbidden!”

They stood silent.

She turned to Jenny. “You’ve already been warned for insolence, the moment you got here. What did I warn you would happen if there was another problem?” When Jenny didn’t answer she said, “Have you got a short memory then?”

Jenny said slowly,

“You warned me that I’d be caned if I was insolent again.”

“Well I will cane you for this, a second serious offence. I will cane both of you.”

“No!” Cal cried.

“Silence! There’s usually one or two each intake who get caned, and this week it’s you two. You will both be caned, but you” – this was to Jenny again – “the more severely.”

Senior Officer O’Hara then turned to the junior screw and said, “See that they follow me to the duty room. Call out if there’s any problem and we’ll send for help.”

They marched obediently behind O’Hara, out of the cell and along the corridor to a room at the end, with a desk, cupboard and some furniture, evidently a base for the officers on duty. The door had been left open with no one there, and it remained left open when they went inside.

“I should tell you,” O’Hara said, sitting behind the desk, “that you have the right to ask for a review of my decision. If you do, you will go back to your cells for a short period, while the governor holds discussions with senior staff and perhaps the company. I should warn you, however, that it would be rare for a review to overrule a caning for using a banned substance. I should also warn you that the review has the right to increase the penalty and not reduce it.”

It was clear what their answer had to be. Alison had told them all this previously of course.

The duty senior then said,

“You” – this was to Cal – “will receive six strokes with the medium cane. You” – to Jenny – “will receive eight strokes with the same cane, the last two more severe.”

Cal gasped and had tears in her eyes. Jenny stood silent.

“Do you wish for a review?”

Jenny shook her head. Cal looked at her and did the same.

“OK,” the senior said. She turned to a computer on the desk, and typed things into it. This took several minutes while they waited. Then she went over to the cabinet, unlocked it, and took out a cane.

It was long and smooth, and none too thin either. At the end was a handle, straight not curved, and wound with string.

Officer O’Hara said,

“Take your skirts away, and lay them on those two chairs.”

They looked at her, uncomprehending. She explained,

“Unzip your skirts, and remove them, and drape them over the chairs.”

Jenny pulled the zip on her skirt all the way down, and unwrapped the garment from around her. Cal did the same, with terror on her face.

“Roll up your blouses and vests, and tuck them under your armpits.”

They rolled up their blouses and vests. Jenny’s didn’t stay up at first and she had to do it again, mostly because of trembling hands. Yet at the same time it suddenly felt unreal – the fear and humiliation were blotted out for the moment.

“Prisoner Tillot first,” Officer O’Hara said. “Step forward into the middle of the room.”

Jenny stepped forward As she did so she saw through the open door two prisoners carrying piles of bedding coming down the corridor. They looked with interest at what was going on in the room.

“Drop your pants to the floor. Then bend over and touch your toes.”

Jenny stared ahead as she took down her pants. There was the feel of the air on her exposed bottom, emphasising its nakedness. She bent over.

“Touch your toes. Go on!” Jenny strained forward. After a moment she was touching her toes.

She heard a great swish. Simultaneously the feeling of unreality disappeared.

Whack!

She gave an involuntary cry. There was terrific pain, with ferocious suddenness. She did her best to choke back tears and further cries. The sound alone was terrifying, as the cane crashed on her bare bottom. She waited for the next stroke, The pain seemed to build up, not lessen, after the shock of the stroke.

Whack! Whack! Whack!

Each time there was terrific shock and ferocious pain, which got worse and worse after the stroke. There seemed great long pauses between each stroke.

Whack! Whack!

She fought not to yell. But she gasped and choked, and tears poured down her face.

There was a longer pause. That was six wasn’t it? There were two more to come. What was she waiting for?

WHACK!

This one was unbelievable. The agony was indescribable. This time she couldn’t stop a cry. Several cries.

WHACK!

She wanted to scream and scream till she brought the place down. She fought with herself to do the opposite..

That was eight. Her fingers rose above her feet.

“No!” O’Hara commanded. “You bend over until told otherwise.”

Jenny touched her toes again. She stayed like that for what seemed ages. But eventually the senior said,

“Right Prisoner, pull up your pants and straighten.”

Jenny took hold of her pants, nearly losing her balance, and slowly pulled them higher. As they reached her bottom she nearly gave another cry. Even the feel of thin pants hurt, as they went over her bottom. She straightened unsteadily.

“Go to the chairs and get dressed,” O’Hara ordered. “Then stand there.”

Jenny realised that her face was hot and must be flushing red, as she stumbled over to her clothes. Slowly, she managed to dress. She stood, restless and crimson-faced, the pain from her bottom excruciating, while Cal had her turn.

Whack! Whack! Whack!

“NO!” Cal screamed. “NO! NO!” She gave a long screech.

Whack! Whack! Whack!

The loudest of Cal’s protests became muffled by tears. She resumed howling when she straightened, with tears pouring down her face.

“Your arrangements for the day are altered,” the senior said, as they stood by the chairs, Cal crying without inhibition, Jenny silent and trying to act composed. “You will return to your cell and are excused other activities until this evening. Lunch will be brought to you. You won’t go to Class for Assessment this afternoon, but Teacher will come to your cell and assess you later on.”

She said to the junior screws, “Escort them back to their cell,” and added, “Make sure you’ve made your beds by the time lunch is brought.”

As they left the room more people were in the corridor, and no doubt they could see what had happened. There were probably people who’d seen the canings themselves, though the open door, but it was obvious anyway as they were escorted away from the duty room and locked back in their cell.

As soon as they were alone, Jenny turned on Cal.

“You fucking selfish stupid bag of shit!” she shouted in her face. “You caused it, and I got it! I wish I could push your ugly fucking joint in your ugly fucking face!”

“I didn’t! She wouldn’t have caned us if you hadn’t annoyed her earlier.”

“What a fucking feeble lying excuse! Why I ought to…” She raised a fist.

“Hey!” The screw came running back to the cell. “Cut that out right now!” she shouted as she unlocked the door.

Jenny dropped her fist and stood sullenly.

“Do you want another caning about ten minutes after the last one?” the screw demanded. “How stupid are you going to be?”

“Sorry,” Jenny mumbled.

“Sorry what? How do you address an officer?”

“I’m sorry Officer.”

When she’d gone, Cal burst into another round of howling. Jenny simply lowered herself onto her bunk, face down, where she buried her face in the space for the pillow. At some point Cal did the same. They stayed like that for a long time.

Eventually they remembered about making her bed, and did so, limping as they did so. They didn’t speak. Just as they were finishing, two prisoners arrived carrying their lunch, accompanied by two officers.

The prisoners put the lunch down, half looking at Jenny and Cal, and half not looking. The screws looked to see that they’d made their beds, then did a quick search of the cell, ruffling through their clothes and under the beds, presumably looking for more drugs – they didn’t say, and the girls didn’t ask. They then left without a word.

One of the prisoners gave them a little grin. “Bad start?” she asked You could see though that it wasn’t really a question.

“You could say that,” Jenny replied.

“It often happens. It doesn’t mean you’re marked out.”

The prisoners then left – presumably they weren’t allowed to stay and chat.

They ate the lunch standing up.

Hours later a woman came in. “I’m the senior teacher,” she said. “I’m here to assess your educational level, so that you go the most suitable class during the educational sessions.”

Senior Teacher was a tremendous relief after the other officers. It was almost like coming out of a nightmare as they spoke with her. She didn’t act the martinet, but spoke to them as equals, and sat informally on one of the beds as she made notes. Jenny and Cal sat on the other bed, leaning sideways on their flanks. Jenny hoped that they would see this woman in Class, but she said, no, they would have their own Class Teachers.

The interview was brief though. She rapidly established that Jenny had been to college and had an office job, Cal had left school early and mostly been unemployed. She made her notes and left.

After that a screw came in and announced, “Your period in the cell’s over now. You can join the other prisoners for the hour of Free Association.”

They didn’t really want to go. Jenny started to say that they’d prefer to remain here, but bit it back. They were told to go to Free Association, so they went.

It was the chance to meet the other girls on the same wing, but they avoiding talking, that first evening. Everyone knew what had happened, and one or two were even sympathetic, and one even said don’t worry, there was no cause for embarrassment for it happened to plenty of them. “Yes, I suppose so,” Jenny replied. “But can I not talk at the moment, all the same.” They were glad to get away, and back in their cell they went to bed even before Lights Out. Exhausted, they slept on their sides.

Not a good first day.