Charlie Caine logged onto his laptop computer and opened up the video-call app. His wife, Claire, joined him, as they waited for the weekly call. Charlie’s father, Michael, would call from his prison cell at half-past seven. The prison inmate was one of the UK’s most notorious prisoners. He had been in prison for most of Charlie’s life, after being arrested following a string of robberies in the 1980’s. 

When Charlie had been growing up, he would visit with his father, and write him letters. Michael had complained for years that the sentence he was given did not fit the crime he had committed. He would argue that there were murderers who were released in less time. The problem was that he couldn’t keep out of trouble in the prison environment. The slightest thing would set him off. There would be altercations with other inmates, with staff, and even the poor librarian who had been taken hostage. After each incident, Michael would have his sentence extended. 

If he could just keep his wild temper, he would stand more of a chance of getting out. If he wasn’t actually fully released, then there was the option of being moved to an open prison. That would be step in the right direction. 

There was a chiming sound and Michael appeared on screen. There he was, his steel-blue gaze coming through the monitor. His cropped brown hair was greying as the years went on. The sleeves of his prison-issue grey t-shirt strained against his biceps. 

‘Hello, you two.’ Michael called, waving a hand. ‘How the devil are you?’

Charlie and Claire made small-talk with their prison relative. As usual, they did most of the talking. Michael was eager to hear about life on the outside, it was a change from the mundane prison routine. They would describe in detail, meals out in restaurants, holding up the menu to the camera, for Michael to see. 

When Charlie asked if his dad was behaving himself, he responded with the same kind of answer he always did. 

‘Mostly, yes. I don’t go looking for trouble, but if one of the screws, or another con, wants a bit of bother, then I will give it to them. You can’t let people walk all over you.’

Claire thought of the driver who had pulled out in front of her, on the way home that evening. The driver of the flash car, had even made a rude gesture, before speeding away. She wondered how her father-in-law would have dealt with the incident. She could just imagine him smashing the flash car to bits with his steering lock. 

A few weeks later, when the video-call started, Michael appeared on screen. He was grinning wildly.

‘Hi, Mick, you seem happy tonight.’ Claire said.

‘Oh, I am, love. I’m over the moon. I heard today that they have set my parole board hearing for next month. My lawyer says that, due to the length of time I’ve already served, there’s a good chance I will get out.’

Claire felt sick. This wasn’t the news she had wanted. While she was too stunned to speak, Charlie clapped his hands in delight.

‘Dad, that is fantastic news. It would be wonderful if you were free at last.’

‘I know, son. I am buzzing. I can hardly believe it.’ Michael said.

‘What will you do with yourself, if you get out?’ Claire managed. 

‘I would come and live with you guys, of course. That’s if you’d have me.’

‘You would be more than welcome to stay with us, dad. We’d be honoured.’ Charlie said.

Claire said nothing. 

For the next few weeks, Claire’s mind raced with the very real possibility that her notorious father-in-law would get out of prison, and, that he would settle in with them. Claire had had no issue when Charlie had originally explained how his father was a convicted prisoner. She had fallen for Charlie and when he had described how his father had been in prison for years, and would be locked up for the foreseeable future, she hadn’t had a problem. Her future husband’s criminal relative was locked up, in a prison miles away, so what did that matter?

But, now, that convicted criminal, with a long history of violence, and a famously short temper, was talking of release, and how he wanted to come and live with them. Things seem to have suddenly escalated. It was like having a dangerous dog. While the animal was playing nice, and being cuddly, then all good, but, what if the dog suddenly started growling and bearing its teeth? All of a sudden, you would be in a dangerous position. 

Each video-call, Michael seemed to grow more and more excited at the prospect of his release. He would ask Charlie all sorts of questions. He enquired about local allotments, nearby fishing spots. Claire felt more and more uncomfortable about the whole thing. What could she do? She could hardly complain, tell her husband that she did not want his father staying with them. Charlie would have been offended at the suggestion she was uncomfortable at the idea. He was so excited about the whole thing. He would say that he didn’t want to get his hopes up, but, that it would be wonderful to have his father with him. He spoke of trips to the pub for Sunday dinner, walks in the park. He would love to get his dad playing crown green bowls at the local social club. He could just imagine his dad popping over for a pint and game of bowls. Claire could think of nothing she wanted less. 

‘Have you been behaving yourself, dad?’ Charlie asked.

Michael replied that he had been behaving, up to a point. There was always some skirmish some altercation. Michael would kick-off and put someone in their place. He didn’t see anything wrong with that. 

‘You can’t let people walk all over you.’ He would insist. 

Claire felt like replying that he was about to walk all over her, and her home-life. 

On the day of the hearing, Claire could think of little else. Surely the authorities would not release him. Her father-in-law insisted he had changed and professed that he was a new man, but he would also speak of straightening people out. That had to ring alarm-bells, didn’t it? As she left for work, and as Charlie left for his own office, he hugged her tight, excitement and anticipation on his face.

‘I will let you know as soon as I hear anything.’ He beamed. ‘We should know this afternoon. How exciting.’

Claire forced a smile and agreed it was fantastic. As he pulled off the driver, he wound his window down, and called out.

‘Keep your fingers crossed, love.’ 

‘Oh, I will.’ Claire replied.

She certainly would keep her fingers crossed and hope for the best, but, her version of the best outcome was not the same as her husband’s. He was desperate for his father to be released, and to come and live with them, but it was the absolute last thing she wanted. The nearer the day came, the more certain she was that she did not want the convicted prisoner staying in their home. 

All that morning at the office, she tried to keep busy, tried to make sure she was occupied. She threw herself into problems with the warehouse and the mix up with deliveries. Every now and then, just as she had managed to forget about the whole thing, it would pop into her head, and a wave of nausea would wash over her. 

During her lunchbreak, she joined her friends in the canteen but she couldn’t face her sandwiches. She tipped the contents of her lunch-box into the bin and settled for a cup of tea and a chat with her workmates instead. 

Just before three thirty that afternoon, her work phone rang. She picked up, Claire speaking, how can I help?

‘Claire, it’s me. He’s done it. They’re letting him go.’

The absolute joy in her husband’s voice was clear.

‘Oh, my goodness. I don’t know what to say.’ She said.

‘I know. It’s just the best outcome.’

Michael would be released the following afternoon, and Claire and Michael would be there to meet him. As they drove the hour and twenty minute trip to the prison, along the miles of motorway, Charlie gushed about how this would be the next chapter in his father’s life, in all their lives. Claire forced a smile. That was exactly what she was afraid of. Charlie enthused about how wonderful it would be to have his father back after all these years.

Claire would have agreed with the sentiment, had Michael been returning from the Spanish Costa Del Sol, to spend his final years close to his loved ones. But, was she really expected to welcome the notorious prisoner into her home, simply because he shared DNA with her husband? Apart from the correspondence, how well did Charlie actually know the man he called his father? 

As they pulled off the motorway, and headed down the A roads, through the rolling countryside, Claire told herself to calm down. She tried to control her breathing, and looked out at the green fields. She would be okay. Everything would be fine, things would sort themselves out. Outside of the hostile prison environment, and tucked away in suburbia, Michael would be a different person. He had even expressed an interest in local activities. Maybe, all he needed was to be given a chance and a clean slate. Maybe he deserved a fresh start. 

Yes, she thought, as the car went by a sign for the prison, HMP Charles Richmond, things would be okay, if they all gave it a chance. She nodded and smiled at Charlie.

‘Nearly there.’ she said. 

While Charlie went through gates of the brooding prison building, Claire waited by the entrance. She would be here to greet Michael when he stepped out into the free-world. That was why she was here. Charlie could sort out all the forms and protocol that no doubt went with someone being released from prison, and Claire would be there with a kind word and a hug.

It was just over forty-five minutes later, when the prison door clanged and swung open. Charlie and Michael stepped through into the sunshine. Michael squinted and looked around, as though he had just landed on an alien planet. He was shorter in real-life, and had the stocky build of a prize fighter. 

Claire dashed over to them. She was just about to congratulate Michael on his new-found liberty, when he turned back to the uniformed prison guard, hovering in the doorway. Michael jabbed a menacing finger at the guard. 

‘If I ever see you on the outside, Lucas, I’ll cut your throat.’ he growled.

Claire was stunned. There was such venom, such anger, in his words. She was in no doubt that he meant what he was saying. It really didn’t seem like an idle threat. 

Lucas simply rolled his eyes, clearly used to these kind of threats, and called that he would see him soon, before setting about closing the heavy door behind them. Those walls and doors that had kept Michael captive for so long, were now keeping him out.

There was such boiling anger in his eyes that Claire was completely taken aback. She was frozen to the spot as the newly-released prisoner, seethed on the prison steps. Charlie placed an arm gently on his father’s arm. 

‘Come on, dad. Let’s get you home.’

The stormy clouds in Michael’s eyes drifted away, and he looked at them both as if seeing them for the first time. 

‘That sounds wonderful.’ He grinned. 

As they packed his suitcase and rucksack in the boot of the car, Michael nodded.

‘I’ve got a really good feeling about this.’ He said.

I hope you’re right, Claire almost said out loud.

The way Michael gazed out of the passenger-side window reminded Claire of the way she looked at the streets and sights, having landed in a foreign country on holiday. While the transfer-coach took them to their hotel, she would study the surrounding area, eyes full of wonder and interest. Charlie explained that he had picked up lots of leaflets about local groups in the area that he might be interested in. There was amateur dramatics, a creative writing group, a book club, and a local anglers club if he fancied taking up fishing.

Claire leaned forward in the back seat. 

‘There’s lots to keep you busy, Michael. You could even join the Tai Chi class I go to.’

Before Michael could respond, a white van pulled out on the road in front of them. Charlie had to slam hard on the brakes to avoid ploughing into the back of the dirty van. 

Charlie shook his head in disgust. Michael leaned over and punched his fist down on the horn. He wound his window down and waved, making rude and aggressive gestures. He swore and shouted at the van in front, his face red with rage. He told Charlie to go around them, and slam on in front of the van, see how they like it. Charlie shook his head, and slowed down, allowing space between them and the van. 

‘Relax, Michael, love.’ Claire said softly.

Her father-in-law turned to her, fury in his eyes. Claire reeled at the harsh glare. 

‘Do not tell me to calm down.’ He yelled.

‘Dad, please.’ Charlie said.

Claire was too stunned by the whole incident to speak. 

The rest of what should have been a celebratory, return journey passed in a tense, awkward silence. Claire sat slumped in the back seat, her head against the cold glass of the window, while Charlie and his father stared out at the road ahead, lost in thought. Claire’s mind went over the altercation with her father-in-law. There had been such venom in his voice, and a violence in his glare. It had been the same with the prison guard, instead of focusing on stepping through the door and starting his new life on the outside, he had turned back around to have an altercation with the officer. She feared that this was a taste of the way life with Michael would be. Would she and Charlie be constantly watching what they say and do, for fear of him losing his temper? 

When they arrived home, Charlie put the kettle on, suggesting a cup of tea would help get Michael settled in. As they made small-talk, perched on the leather furniture, in the living room, Charlie and Claire commented on how the weather had turned out alright after a gloomy start that morning. Michael simply nodded. He looked as though he was trying to take it all in. Claire did feel sorry for him, it was like he was an animal released from the zoo. A shiver went through her. Had they welcomed a wild animal into their home? Could he be tamed? Maybe she and Charlie had as much adjusting to do, as Michael himself. 

When they had finished their tea, their cups and the conversation having run dry, Claire offered to show Michael his room. She opened the door to the small bedroom with the flourish of a Blackpool guest-house owner showing their latest visitor to their finest suite. 

‘The room is twenty five pounds a night, and breakfast is served from eight until ten o’clock in the morning.’ Claire joked, in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

Michael smiled, seeming to appreciate her attempt at levity. He placed his suitcase and back-pack down gently down on the bed. Claire was reminded of a film she had seen about a child who was evacuated to the countryside from London during the Blitz of the Second World War. Michael seemed equally uprooted and unsettled. 

While Michael went to bed early, to read and try to get some sleep, Claire and Charlie talked in hushed voices about the situation they now found themselves in. Claire played down the terror she was feeling, but still voiced her concerns.

‘What do you make of it all? The way he lost his rag with the guard? And then the van driver? There was no need for any of that.’ She said.

‘I know, love, but it will take dad time to get used to life out of the prison environment. Maybe that’s the way he’s had to deal with things. We don’t know what he’s been through.’

Claire was tempted to mention that they don’t know what he is capable of either, but she said nothing. The way he had spoken to her, the look he had given her, really scared her. She was quite certain that, had she pressed him, he would have continued to verbally abuse her, or worse. 

‘We’ll just have to see how we get on. If dad is struggling, there are people we can talk to. He’s not on his own, nor are we. I just don’t want to give up on him. He’s family and he deserves a chance.’

Right then Claire wished that her father-in-law belonged to another family and that someone else faced the issues they were tackling. She knew deep down that her husband was right, but the fear was really disturbing her.

She hardly slept that night, unsure quite how she felt about the dangerous man snoring in their spare-room. When she closed her eyes she saw his face, that glare, his voice ringing around her head. 

The following afternoon, Charlie and Claire went to the local shopping mall to pick up bits that Michael needed. Charlie had suggested the shopping trip, to give them all a bit of space, and to let his father settle in and find his feet. He added that the situation was bound to be a bit overwhelming for all of them. Claire agreed, glad to be busy, and threw herself into the task of sourcing the clothing, new shoes and other items Michael needed. 

Claire and Charlie were almost an hour and a half going round the shopping centre, before heading home, with the car-boot full of carrier bags of clothing and toiletries for Michael. Claire hoped her father-in-law liked the clothes. She had picked some of the t-shirts and hoodies out, and even a Superman dressing gown for him to wear around the house. 

Claire went in the front door, calling out, Michael, we’re back. She went through to the living room. Her father-in-law appeared in the doorway. He had a manic glare in his eye, and waved a knife at her. The sunlight glinting off the cold steel of the blade sent a wave of terror through her. She screamed and rushed outside to her husband. 

‘Your dad has got a knife.’ She cried. ‘We need to phone the police. That man wants locking up again. He should never have been let out.’

Charlie raised a hand, telling her to wait there, before heading slowly, carefully inside. Nothing happened for a long moment. Claire’s mind was racing, she could just see the headlines. Man murdered by his convict father. Then Charlie called out to her, telling her to come inside. She trusted her husband, and if he was telling her to come in, then it must have been safe. Perhaps he had disarmed his father, talked him around, convinced him to put the knife down, and not hurt anybody. 

She moved slowly inside, warily. She found Charlie and Michael standing facing each other in the living room. The ex-prisoner still carried the knife.

‘Charlie, he still has the knife.’ She pointed.

‘He is also wearing an apron. Dad has cooked a lovely roast dinner for us all.’

By Chris Platt

From: United Kingdom