Lost Innocence: The Accused. Part One Read Online Free PDF Page B

from my chair,
spun around and bent over the table. They lifted up my shirt;
cheered when they saw the package then ripped it off and laughed
liked they’d won the lottery. The senior policeman strolled in, his
officers handed him the package and they all had photographs taken
with it, then pictures of the three of them pointing at
me.
    Once they had
finished, the senior policeman took the package, weighed it in his
hand then wandered over to me. ‘Mr Lawrence. You are under arrest
for trafficking a Class A drug.’
    I was handcuffed then
marched out past a crowd of people who stared. Then, crammed into a
car with government plates, I was driven to a police station. I was
allowed to make a call. I tried twice. Nui didn’t answer and
neither did Briggs.
    When I appeared in
Court, I pleaded guilty and was sentenced to death. His Majesty
commuted that to a term of life imprisonment, and here I am.
I’ve served over ten years so far. I’ve
never appealed my sentence, called home and apart from the embassy,
nobody knows I’m here.”
    John paused as I sat
there transfixed. His story was so vivid that the prison walls had
gently blurred into my peripheral vision, then returned with a jolt
once he had stopped. I had been so deeply engrossed in his past, so
utterly immersed in his world that for a moment nothing else
mattered.
    Grateful for the
distraction, I became acutely aware of my own body and noticed
large beads of sweat forming beneath my temples. I wiped my brow
and steadied myself. “Why have you never called your
mum?”
    “ I couldn’t put her
through it, and when Nui didn’t answer, I saw it as a sign that I
shouldn’t tell her. I was ashamed of what I had tried to do and I
couldn’t handle her seeing me in here.
    “ What happened to her
father?”
    “ I don’t know and
I’ve never heard from Briggs.”
    I could see the
remorse and pain in his eyes spiking, so I stopped questioning him,
left him alone and tried to settle for the night.

 
    SIX
     
    MY
DREAMS continued to taunt me with images of open fields and lush green grass. It
was heavenly, but only added to the trauma each time I woke up.
“Sleep well?” John asked as I came around.
    “ No, and my dreams
seem so incredibly real.”
    “ I’ve done ten years
and every time I wake up, I forget where I am. You never get used
to that.”
    The bell sounded, the
others packed away their things and we were filed out into the
yard. John handed some coupons to a trustee and we were allowed
access to a food-shed.
    Grubby-looking cooks
were busy standing over charcoal stoves and fighting over space,
while other inmates lingered around waiting for their breakfast.
John put our order in; it eventually arrived and was just as bad as
what I’d had before.
    After breakfast it
was time to wash. We stepped over to the troughs and stripped off
under the sun.
    “ Remember, mate. Keep
your movements to a minimum. It will help keep your body
cool.”
    “ The water’s filthy,”
I complained.
    As I washed, I felt a
warm tingling sensation on my foot. I glanced down, followed a
stream of water to its source - somebody was peeing on me! I gave
him a dirty look, splashed copious amounts of water onto my feet
then shook them dry. I backed away, dressed then caught up with
John.
    “ Where do you get
clean clothes?”
    “ The lady-boys
control all that. The washing lines are round the back, but watch
that nobody nicks anything. I stand around and wait.”
    John glanced up at
the sun. “What I wouldn’t do for a nice cold beer.”
    “ We’ll have one on
the outside, one day.”
    Once the day grew
tired, we were taken back inside. On the way back to our cell, John
spoke Thai to a passing guard, a coupon changed hands and I was
taken in another direction.
    “ What’s going on?’ I
asked.
    “ You’re calling home.
You have a chance to get out, you bloody well take it.”
    I was marched down
the corridor and shuffled into an abandoned office by a guard with
a bald