Syd POV
We've just been seated at a grey plastic circular fold out picnic style table, the kind that schools use in their cafeterias with the stools attached to the frame, easily folded and stored so the room can be quickly cleared and used for some other purpose. I wonder what else a prison would use a room of this size for.
There is a tangible anticipatory buzz in the room which is alive with excited but hushed chatter. Other visitors are taking their seats at the surrounding tables, some with small packages of treats that have been cleared as acceptable by the very zealous guards who checked us all in. I've never been subjected to such an invasive search before this.
The extremely large black male guard that waves me forward for my security check must be at least 6ft 6in tall..... and at least half as wide! He is SOLID! Im reminded of a Rhino. Thick and wide, his stance strong, alert, ready to take on any challenge or threat. His neck is as wide as his head,the shirt he is wearing had to have been made to measure just for him, clothes that size do not come 'off the peg'. Im surprised to find that the staff aren't wearing the blazers, pressed trousers and chauffeur style peaked caps that I had expected after watching many prison films, but rather black cargo pants, royal blue polo shirts with the prison name and crest embroidered in white into the left breast area, their name and staff number on the right side, and baseball caps. Baseball caps?! Where are we, America?!
Mr Rhino watches me approach his table closely. He is suspicious. I guess I do look pretty shifty, my nerves at being in a place like this, knowing that I am within feet of some of the Country's most dangerous criminals getting the better of me. Along with my anxiety about whether I'm doing the right thing by coming here and my nausea at the thought of sitting across from Harry, or "Cockwomble" as Yanni has recently christened him, I am a quivering hesitant wreck. I absolutely look suss!
The deepest voice I I've ever heard instructs me to place my bag and jacket on the table that separates us and I wordlessly comply, feeling extremely exposed now as I stand in just my white silk sleeveless blouse, floral skirt and bare feet, my strappy red sandals joining my jacket and bag on the peeling melamine of the table.
Mr Rhino, or 'Supervising officer Aziz Waqal' as his shirt attests, asks me for permission to search my jacket pockets and my bag, which I give with a small curt nod while nervously rubbing my clammy palms on my buttocks. Once he is satisfied that I am not in possession of any contraband he places my mobile phone into a small Tupperware style box with the number 1104 on its lid, then peels a sticker from a sheet on the table and places it on my chest, the same number now displayed prominently for all to see. He tells me this is how I will retrieve my phone once visiting finishes, then picks up a metal detecting wand and paces around the table to stand directly before me, now only around 6 inches separating us. I feel as if I will suffocate, he dominates the space and I am dwarfed by him.
He waves the wand all over my body, then places it down and tells me he needs to feel my limbs to ensure I'm not concealing anything that the metal detector could not find.
My eyes are drawn to his hands, they are gargantuan! He could certainly crush my skull with just one of them. I nod my permission and swallow hard, feeling heady and hot suddenly. I don't know whether its that I'm intimidated by his size, or whether the thought of a strange man touching me that does it, but I begin to hyperventilate as he bends down and places one of those gigantic bear paws around my ankle, bile fills my throat and blood rushes in my ears. I can feel myself shaking as his hands move slowly up my leg, feeling for illegal substances and rolls of cash I may have secreted on my person. I stare straight ahead and everything in the world slows down. Seconds feel like hours, all my senses are heightened and my nerves are taut.
"Turn to your left"
I'm surprised I heard the instruction given the volume of the blood surging around my body but I blindly comply, my programming to obey when scared on full display. I see Yanni now directly before me, undergoing his own search by a very smiley female officer and he raises his eyebrows at me, grins and shrugs his shoulders at me in his Uber confident 'of course she is happy, I'm hot' way.
Almost immediately he realises something is wrong and pulls away from the officer who has been groping him relentlessly and begins to step barefoot towards me.
His manhandler looks crushed. Before Yanni makes a second step towards me three officers leap in his path and usher him back to 'Handsy Hilda' to complete his security check. My fight or flight instinct is triggered and almost of it's own volition my knee swiftly comes up and connects with Mr Rhinos nose, sending him backwards to the ground very easily due to his crouched position at my feet. I find myself falling forwards and landing directly on top of him as he did not let go of my leg as he fell, presumably in a failed attempt to stay on his feet instead of falling on his arse. He barely flinches as my full weight lands heavily on his chest, but funnily enough I feel as though I've just been charged by a Rhino! This man is surely carved from stone, he is so hard! I roll off of him and struggle to catch my breath becoming aware of arms lifting me into a sitting position and then hugging me tightly.
Yanni!
He is cooing in my ear, telling me it's all ok, I'm safe, he's got me, but then the world disappears. The last image I have before I lose myself is of Officer Aziz bleeding profusely from the mouth.
When I next open my eyes I am lying on a couch in what looks like a nurses office. I attempt to sit but Yanni is there and stops me, shaking his head and insisting I lie back down. I comply and he tells me that he has explained to Officer Aziz that I am suffering from PTSD, and after a recent incident I now am hyper alert and sensitive to triggers. Mr Rhino touching my ankle seemed to be what did it, which is unsurprising since Harry and The Six used to pin, chain or tie my ankles to chairs, the couch or to my wrists.
Apparently I have knocked two of his teeth out and he has been sent to the hospital to have stitches in his lip which burst like an overfilled water balloon.
I feel awful, but wasn't in my right mind. Fear and self preservation reared their heads and instinct to protect myself kicked in.
Yanni tells me that it's only been around ten minutes since I passed out, so there is plenty of the two hour long visiting time left available to us.
"It wont hurt to let that worthless waste of good organs wait. Piece of shit has probably never waited for anything in his life! You know, I ...."
I sit up and put my hand on his forearm, my eyes not leaving his once he turns those intense but innocent windows on me. The hazel and caramel swirling galaxies behind his retinas are a sight to behold. He falls silent immediately, watching my face closely for signs I'm going to speak.
"Yanni, we can do this! Don't let him get inside your head. He is an expert in gaslighting. He could make you believe that you had brought down the World trade centre if he chose to! Remember, he knows nothing about our lives, but will try to make you feel like he knows everything! Come on, let's get this over with so we can forget he exists and leave him here to rot, just like he deserves" I tell him while sliding off the couch and heading towards the door with an air of confidence I do NOT feel!
We return to the reception area to retrieve our shoes and collect our visitors lanyards and are then taken through to the visiting area. There are children here, which I understand, of course they want to visit fathers, uncles and grandfathers, but it saddens me to witness. Days out to see family and friends should take place at the zoo, the beach or at a restaurant perhaps, not in the stark grey bleakness of a maximum security prison.
Once we are seated, Yanni directly to my right, he clasps my hand tightly, placing our intertwined fingers into his lap under the table. A strange mixture of feelings run through me. Of course I have felt most of these sensations before, but never in the combination I am currently.
My attention is captured by what appears to be a young family directly opposite us. A tiny and fragile looking woman, pale and gaunt and dressed in a cerise pink tracksuit with what looks suspiciously like vomit on the shoulder, rocks a pram containing a screaming baby, while 2 other very young children are colouring pictures with a hulking great grizzly bear of a man, presumably their father. I am transfixed, the normalcy of the scene at odds with the strangeness of the surroundings. The smiles of joy on the childrens faces as their Daddy sharpens their pencils for them is heartwarming, the excited explanations of what the drawings are of, endearing.
Yanni squeezes my fingers so hard I am distracted from the sweet scene before me, my attention drawn back to the man beside me who is glaring to his right.
"You should have said if you wanted kids Dolly, I could have obliged. Our babies would have been stunning wouldn't they!?"
Harry steps further around the table and seats himself opposite me, and my stomach begins to turn over like laundry in a tumble dryer!
I CAN DO THIS!