Chapter 56
Chapter Fifty-Six
Time spent in prison: ten years, one month
When Anthony was first sent to prison on remand, he wore size forty-two-inch trousers.
Now, ten years later, his waist measured thirty inches.
His weight loss wasn’t down to regular exercise and a fitness regime, it was due to stress and anxiety about another beating, the constant reminder something may have been put in his food to kill him or make him sick.
He picked at his meals, cutting open sausages to make sure glass hadn’t been placed inside, smashing a jacket potato, looking for pieces of razor blade, and he refused to eat anything with a sauce, fearing someone had spat in it, or worse.
The weight had dropped from him and, on someone well over six foot tall, it wasn’t a good look.
Since news of his release was announced, and the whole world knew he was innocent, the prison staff couldn’t do enough for him.
He was moved from the segregated wing to more comfortable surroundings and spent the following week in a suite occasionally used by staff.
One of the nicer prison officers, Bill, measured him and contacted his mother to give her his new clothing sizes.
She went out and bought what she thought he’d like, and sent them in.
She wanted him to step back out into the world feeling good.
The food had improved dramatically, too.
He was even treated to a takeaway pizza and joined a few of the officers one night when they sent out for McDonalds.
After a decade of over-analysing every morsel of food, he struggled to accept their kindness.
When he was told to help himself to a wrapped burger, he knew none of them had been tampered with, but he was still reluctant.
Self-preservation was ingrained in him. Bill tried to reassure him, but regaining trust and adjusting to feeling safe would take time.
On the morning of his release, he’d been too excited and anxious to eat any breakfast, but he’d been told it was going to be a long day so would need something to give him energy.
He was left alone in the staff canteen and made himself a few rounds of toast, coating them with jam and peanut butter.
Along with a mug of tea, it tasted good.
At seven o’clock, the door opened, and Bill stood in the doorway with a big smile on his face.
‘It’s time to go, Anthony,’ he said. He held a carrier bag in his hand containing Anthony’s belongings, a few clothes and books, a couple of home comforts his mother had brought in for him.
Anthony looked up. His bottom lip wobbled.
‘I’m scared,’ he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
‘Of what?’ Bill asked, coming fully into the room, closing the door behind him. ‘Your mum and Leo are outside waiting for you. Your solicitor is there, too. They’re all good people waiting for you.’
‘I’m scared of what’s going to happen?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I didn’t do anything wrong, and I ended up in here,’ he said, struggling to hold back the tears. ‘People said horrible things about me. Everybody thought I was a killer. Nobody believed me when I said I hadn’t done it. What if it happens again?’
Bill pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘Anthony, what happened to you shouldn’t have happened.
It was shocking. But a lot has changed over the past ten years.
There are new rules in place now to make sure it doesn’t happen again, to you, or anyone else.
The police can’t treat you how they once did anymore. ’
‘People are going to be looking at me, aren’t they? I’ve seen what’s been written about me in the newspapers. They think I’m weird.’
‘It doesn’t matter what people think, Anthony. The only people who matter are your family and friends. They’ll look after you. Now, come on. You don’t want to stay in here for the rest of your life, do you?’ he said with a smile.
Anthony didn’t say anything. He remained seated, a frightened look on his face, his eyes wide and staring, a heavy frown on his brow. He really didn’t want to go anywhere.
Outside the large prison doors, Pauline and Leo stood beside each other, their arms linked. Jennifer and Freya were stood behind them at a respectful distance.
‘They said bang on seven o’clock,’ Pauline said, looking at her watch. It was quarter past.
‘They’re probably short-staffed,’ Leo said. ‘You know what the prison service is like.’
‘I hope nothing’s happened.’
‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve just got a strange feeling that that door isn’t going to open today.’
‘Now you’re being paranoid. If anything had happened, we would have been told about it by now.’
‘I just… I honestly never thought this day would come,’ she said, gripping Leo’s arm a little tighter.
Leo looked down at her. ‘Smile, Pauline. This is a good day.’ He grinned at her.
She smiled wide. ‘It is, isn’t it?’
The door began to open.
‘Here we go,’ Leo said.
Pauline took a deep breath. She remained rooted to the spot as a small door within the large wooden doors opened.
At first, nobody appeared. After a few long seconds, a prison officer stepped out followed by Anthony.
He was wearing the clothes she’d sent him and carrying a heavy plastic bag in his left hand.
The officer held out a hand and Anthony shook it.
They exchanged a few words and Anthony turned.
Then he saw his mum, and his smile lit up the dull morning.
He walked towards her, slowly at first, and with a slight limp. As he came closer, he broke into a trot. He dropped the bag, held out his arms, and Pauline ran into them. He wrapped them around her and squeezed her tight.
Leo stood back and watched. He turned to Jennifer and Freya, both of whom were in floods of tears. He bit his bottom lip to stave off the emotion.
The hug between mother and son seemed to last forever.
Eventually, Pauline pushed herself out of Anthony’s embrace.
Her mascara had run, and she dug in her pocket for a tissue.
She wiped her eyes. She stood back and took in her son.
She held his hands at arm’s length. He looked thin, gaunt, and he’d aged so much in the last ten years.
It was a shock to see him so drained. Yet, he was still her son.
Pauline didn’t know what to say. She tried to think of something profound, something from the heart, but she didn’t have the words.
‘Can I go home, Mum?’ Anthony asked.
That short sentence made the tears flow again.
Leo stepped forward. He held out a hand for Anthony to shake. ‘It’s so good to see you out at long last, Anthony.’ He pulled him into an embrace, hugged him hard, and slapped him on the back.
‘You too, Leo. Can we go onto the moors this afternoon?’
‘Maybe not this afternoon, but we’ll have a trip there very soon. We’ll take a picnic.’
‘I finished that photography course I was taking. I know all about landscapes and lighting. We should be able to get some really good pictures,’ Anthony said, excitement evident in his voice.
‘We will. We’ll put some in frames if they come out really good.’
‘I’d like that,’ he beamed.
‘Oh, Anthony, I’m just so happy you’re out,’ Pauline said, struggling to hold back the tears. She hugged him again, resting her head on his chest.
‘Come on,’ Leo said. ‘Let’s go somewhere to get something to eat and drink and have a good chat.’
Jennifer and Freya were both wiping their eyes as they approached them.
‘Anthony, it’s so lovely to see you,’ Jennifer said with a smile. ‘I’m so happy for you. You remember Freya Sloan, don’t you? She’s been working with us to get you released.’
‘I think so,’ Anthony said, studying her.
‘It’s lovely to meet you officially, Anthony.’
They shook hands.
‘We’ve booked a room in a hotel nearby, Anthony, so you can relax and get reacquainted with your family,’ Jennifer said.
‘I want to go home,’ he said.
‘It’s a bit of a drive,’ Pauline said. ‘There’s a lot to do before we can go home.’
‘Like what?’
Jennifer and Freya exchanged a look. This was a private conversation they didn’t need to be a part of.
‘We’ll go on ahead,’ Jennifer said. ‘We’ll get everything sorted. Just follow on when you’re ready.’
‘Thank you,’ Leo mouthed.
‘What’s happened? Is everything all right? Why can’t we go home?’ Anthony asked, his words tripping over each other. He stepped back from his mum, a look of mistrust on his face.
‘Sweetheart, things haven’t been easy in the last ten years,’ Pauline began.
‘We’ve been working so hard to get you out, and Jennifer has helped a lot, but there’s only been so much she, and the charity, have been able to do for free.
And because, in the eyes of the law, you were found guilty and the appeals failed, we weren’t able to get legal aid. ’
‘I don’t know what you’re saying.’
‘I had to sell the house, Anthony,’ Pauline said.
‘What? Why?’
‘I needed the money. I lost my job at the nursing home. I couldn’t get another, not full-time as I was trying to find a way to help you. I…’ She struggled and looked to Leo for help.
‘Anthony, we talked it through, me and your mum, about the best way to raise some money, and selling the house seemed like the sensible option. Your mum moved in with me. We’ve turned the spare bedroom into your room.’
‘We’re all going to live together?’ He smiled.
‘Yes.’
‘I like that.’
Leo and Pauline exchanged a glance. They didn’t need to tell him the real truth behind Pauline selling the house because of the constant hate mail, silent phone calls and bricks through the window.
There was so much for Anthony to get used to, and too much information all at once would be confusing and upsetting for him.
He didn’t need that. They’d drip-feed him what he needed to know as necessary.
The first surprise would be the press conference.
The second was that Whitby was no longer home for any of them.