Indignation flared in me. This boy, barely a man, hadn’t been tried yet, might well be innocent – but he was in here alone and terrified almost senseless. I shouldn’t think he’d have had any access to counselling, or seen anyone to help him deal with the trauma he’d been through. If he fell apart they’d put him in the hospital, but until then…
After what seemed like ages he straightened up. I withdrew my hand; my arm had gone dead and I rubbed at it to stop the pins and needles while he wiped his face with the palms and backs of his hands. I passed him some tissues. Do not pass any materials to the prisoner. He blew his nose noisily.
The crying had calmed him. His eyes no longer swept here and there. He gazed steadily into the distance. ‘They wouldn’t let me go to the funeral. I should have been there.’ He looked directly at me, ‘I still can’t believe he’s dead. I dream about him and then I wake up and…’ He sighed. ‘When we were in Year Seven, that’s when my mum died, Ahktar, he was great. He didn’t mind if I got moody or anything, he just stuck with me. There was no one else. My dad was in a right state. Ahktar was…he didn’t talk about it or anything,’ he leant forward, trying to make me understand, ‘he just kept coming round. He wasn’t embarrassed, everybody…that’s the main thing, they’re embarrassed, they make you feel awkward.’ He paused. ‘We’ve still got his guitar in the cellar.’
‘You had a group? What instrument did you play?’
‘Drums, Ahktar on guitar and vocals, Simon on bass, Josh on keyboards. Ahktar made it though.’ He smiled at some memory; it made him look so young. ‘He had a brilliant voice and he wrote the songs as well. That night, New Year’s Eve, we were going to see this guy at the club. He had a recording studio, his brother was one of the DJs at the club. Ahktar had talked to the DJ and he said he’d introduce us.’
‘Did he?’
“Nah. It was crazy in there.’
‘So you do remember part of the evening?’
‘Yeah, we got the bus into town, we went straight there. Everyone knew it’d sell out. We were there by eight. We all got in.’
‘Who were you with?’
‘Simon, Josh and his girlfriend, Ahktar, Joey D, Zeb and Emma.’
I asked him about the people who hadn’t been mentioned before.
‘Joey D.’ He shook his head slowly. ‘Joey D is sad. He’s at school with us. He has a hard time, his old man’s an alcoholic. Joey lives with his grandma. She’s loaded, rolling in it. Joey’s got more money than sense, so people use him. He gives them stuff, he thinks they’ll like him.’
