As Danny passed me a quarry tile and I pressed it into place, the man's head appeared round the corner again.
"You lads sure you won't 'ave a cuppa tea?"
I looked at Danny and gave a little sigh. When you work in prisons you are not supposed to take anything from inmates, but the old chap seemed so eager to make one and it was about the fifth time he had asked that day that I shrugged and said okay. As he shuffled off down the corridor to his cell, I stood up and stretched to see Danny looking at me with a little grimace.
"I know," I said, but it couldn't do any harm and I was ready for one anyway.
Standing in the doorway of his cell, I was surprised at how big it was, with an armchair and a television which had horse racing on, but as he was elderly I supposed they gave him a little slack.
"I love my racing," he said, then as the tea was mashing began to tell me about his illnesses and how little he saw of his family before pouring the tea and handing it to us.
The tea was hot, so I held the mug a while whilst he sat in his chair continuing with his life story and that he had been inside for fifteen years. Taking this as a cue and thinking he had taken us into his confidence I asked what his offence had been. Danny, tiring of the conversation began to sip his tea when he said casually,
"I poisoned three people."
Convulsing backwards, Danny spit his tea up the wall and shot out into the corridor. Bumbling some excuse, I followed him and we both poured our tea ceremoniously down the sink in the toilet. Surprisingly, we were not asked for tea again.
This tea tastes great though. Even though it is very hot sitting in the shade of the caravan in the old deckchair, nothing else hits the spot for me. A couple of digestives compliments it nicely, and as I look up at the window I have put in today which basically finishes off the kid's bedroom, I feel a little relaxed thinking they have somewhere to sleep when they get here on Monday.
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