Free The Jump by Martina Cole

you.’
    Gantry laughed loudly, showing expensive false teeth. ‘You’re finished, Georgio, the word’s already out.’
    Now it was Georgio’s turn to laugh, and he gave one of his handsome grins: ‘Finished - me? I ain’t even fucking started.’
    Gantry grinned back. ‘I’d say you’ve started. Eighteen years sentence, that’s what you’ve started. And you’ll have to look over your shoulder for the whole time.’
    Georgio’s face was serious now, hard-looking. ‘In that case, Mr Gantry, then so will you. Tell Lewis it will take a bit more than a kid with a razor to scare me. If I’d been in his shoes I’d have had the razor wiped clean across my throat. In fact, I’d have done it myself.’
    Pushing past Gantry, he went back into the shower room and took another towel from the rail. Tying it around his waist, he returned to his cell. He knew that everyone was waiting for his reaction, so he whistled nonchalantly, smiling in a carefree way.
    Once inside the privacy of his cell, he wiped a hand over his face in agitation. Lewis had come straight out into the open. His arm was long. He was doing a twenty in Parkhurst yet he’d arranged this welcome in the Scrubs within twenty-four hours of Georgio’s sentencing.
    One thing was imperative: he had to get out. Whatever happened, he had to get out. Once he hit the Island he was as good as dead.
    Petey Pearson walked into the cell and grinned. When Georgio didn’t grin back, Petey slapped his shoulder and said jovially, ‘Cheer up, Georgio. You’re like a con with a sore arse!’
    Worried as he was, Georgio had to laugh.
    The laughter was heard along the wing, noted and commented on. Lewis knew about the aftermath within an hour of the attack taking place.
    He wasn’t in the least amused.

    Donna dressed herself in a dark grey suit, low-heeled black shoes,

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    and tied her hair back with a piece of black velvet ribbon. When she walked into the car lot, she was whistled at by a passing motorist and Davey shook his head. He was already regretting asking her here; she would be like an albatross around his neck. Even done up like this, all businesslike and covered up, she looked what she was: vulnerable. Her open face was the last thing he needed when selling cars. Especially the special cars, the ringers, which he supplied to bank robbers or even kidnappers on some occasions. He saw the crew in the workshop smiling at her and sighed again. The silly mare had smiled back and waved.
    As she walked into the small office he commented: ‘You got here, then?’
    Donna smiled widely, her innocent face devoid of make-up, and his heart ached for her.
    ‘Yes, I got here, Davey. Though what I’m supposed to do now I’m actually here, I don’t really know.’
    ‘I’ve just made a coffee, you want one?’
    She nodded. Then, putting her bag on the floor, she sat at the desk, looking around her in bewilderment. The place was a shambles.
    Ten minutes later, Davey was still trying to make conversation with her when the phone rang. After a mumbled discussion he said awkwardly, ‘I have to go out for a while. You can answer the phone and make appointments. If anyone asks something, just say you’re a temp - that’s what Carol does. They’ll call back if they’re interested.’
    Donna fixed a large smile on her face and tried to look in control. She failed dismally. As she watched Davey drive off her heart sank.
    The office was a pit. There were papers everywhere, folders full to overflowing on the chairs, on the floor, even under the desk. Letters were stuffed into drawers that no longer shut, they were so full up. Walking into the small kitchen area to wash up the cups, she shuddered. Tea bags were piled in the sink and on the draining board, old milk cartons lay scattered everywhere. The smell was ripe. Going back into the office she nearly cried. Then, taking off her jacket, she hung it on a hook on the door and rolled up the sleeves of her blouse. She gritted