Read Online Hard Time by Anthony Papa Anne Mini Shaun Attwood - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Anthony Papa Anne Mini Shaun Attwood
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be thinking you got something to hide, and you’ll get your ass smashed double quick. Get some sleep, man, and settle down.’
‘I will after I make a call.’
He picked up the phone. ‘Look, tell me the number. I’ll put you through.’
I thanked him, and gave him my aunt Ann’s number. He dialled it, spoke his name into the phone a few times and passed it to me. Desperate to hear how my parents had reacted to the news of my arrest, I listened to her phone ring. When she answered it, a computerised female voice told her it was a collect call from the jail and asked her to press 0 to accept the charges.
‘Shaun, are you OK?’ Ann said.
‘Yes. Did you get through to England?’
‘I spoke to your mum. As you can imagine, she’s pretty devastated. Your dad was at work. Fortunately, Karen was there with your mum,’ she said, referring to my 28-year-old sister, a trainee journalist living with my parents. ‘I think she was in a state of shock ’cause after I told her, she started talking to me as if nothing had happened. She said “How’re your lot?”, which I thought was strange.’
Oh my God, I thought. What have I done to my mum?
‘She said for you to call them as soon as you can, any time day or night.’
‘I’d better do it right away. Look, I don’t know how much these calls are costing, so I’m going to hang up and try to call England.’
‘OK. They’ll be glad to hear your voice.’
Trembling, I put the phone down. The African American put me through to England. Ashamed of where I was, I prayed they’d be supportive. Karen answered and accepted the collect call.
‘Shaun’s on the phone!’ Karen yelled, then in a lower voice said, ‘What have you done? Mum and Dad are in a proper state. They’re worried sick.’
‘Look, it’s not as bad as it sounds,’ I said.
‘God, I hope not. For Mum and Dad’s sake. They don’t deserve this, Shaun.’
‘You’d better let me speak to them,’ I said, bracing myself.
‘Anyway, I hope you’re OK in there. It must be a nightmare. Here’s Dad. Bye! Love you.’
‘Love you too.’ Speaking to Karen reinforced my guilt. She was right. My parents didn’t deserve any of this.
‘Are you OK?’ Dad asked.
Hearing the strain in his voice, I felt awful. I imagined my mum taking it the worst. ‘I’m in trouble, but I’m fine,’ I said, trying to sound reassuring.
‘Well, we’ll do whatever it takes to help you.’
I was relieved. ‘They’ve given me a list of charges, but I haven’t a clue what they mean. My bond’s $750,000, and I know none of us has that kind of money.’
‘I know about the bond. I rang the jail.’
‘What did you find out?’
‘It sounds pretty serious. I was on that daft automated line for about 45 minutes, going around in a loop – press 1, press 2, press 3 – putting your booking number in at different stages, and all of a sudden a voice popped up. I explained the situation to her. As soon as I said, “I’m calling from England about my son who has been arrested,” she immediately wanted to help me. The English accent has its advantages.’
‘It does. It’s helping me in here. What did she say?’
‘I said, “I can’t understand what’s happened. I can’t believe what’s going on or why he’s been arrested.” She said, “Give me his booking number, and I’ll find out what I can for you.” She gave me the charges – which I didn’t really understand – and then she said, “The bond is $750,000. This looks pretty serious.”’
I felt panic setting in again. ‘Oh dear. I’m so sorry. Mum must be worried sick.’
‘She’s bearing up.’
‘I’d better speak to her then.’
‘OK, here she is.’
‘Shaun, are you safe in there?’ Mum was crying.
I felt ill. ‘Yes, I’m all right, Mum,’ I said, not wanting to add to her worries.
‘What’s all this about?’
‘I can’t really say much on these phones, Mum. I was raided, but no drugs were found. My bond’s so
‘I will after I make a call.’
He picked up the phone. ‘Look, tell me the number. I’ll put you through.’
I thanked him, and gave him my aunt Ann’s number. He dialled it, spoke his name into the phone a few times and passed it to me. Desperate to hear how my parents had reacted to the news of my arrest, I listened to her phone ring. When she answered it, a computerised female voice told her it was a collect call from the jail and asked her to press 0 to accept the charges.
‘Shaun, are you OK?’ Ann said.
‘Yes. Did you get through to England?’
‘I spoke to your mum. As you can imagine, she’s pretty devastated. Your dad was at work. Fortunately, Karen was there with your mum,’ she said, referring to my 28-year-old sister, a trainee journalist living with my parents. ‘I think she was in a state of shock ’cause after I told her, she started talking to me as if nothing had happened. She said “How’re your lot?”, which I thought was strange.’
Oh my God, I thought. What have I done to my mum?
‘She said for you to call them as soon as you can, any time day or night.’
‘I’d better do it right away. Look, I don’t know how much these calls are costing, so I’m going to hang up and try to call England.’
‘OK. They’ll be glad to hear your voice.’
Trembling, I put the phone down. The African American put me through to England. Ashamed of where I was, I prayed they’d be supportive. Karen answered and accepted the collect call.
‘Shaun’s on the phone!’ Karen yelled, then in a lower voice said, ‘What have you done? Mum and Dad are in a proper state. They’re worried sick.’
‘Look, it’s not as bad as it sounds,’ I said.
‘God, I hope not. For Mum and Dad’s sake. They don’t deserve this, Shaun.’
‘You’d better let me speak to them,’ I said, bracing myself.
‘Anyway, I hope you’re OK in there. It must be a nightmare. Here’s Dad. Bye! Love you.’
‘Love you too.’ Speaking to Karen reinforced my guilt. She was right. My parents didn’t deserve any of this.
‘Are you OK?’ Dad asked.
Hearing the strain in his voice, I felt awful. I imagined my mum taking it the worst. ‘I’m in trouble, but I’m fine,’ I said, trying to sound reassuring.
‘Well, we’ll do whatever it takes to help you.’
I was relieved. ‘They’ve given me a list of charges, but I haven’t a clue what they mean. My bond’s $750,000, and I know none of us has that kind of money.’
‘I know about the bond. I rang the jail.’
‘What did you find out?’
‘It sounds pretty serious. I was on that daft automated line for about 45 minutes, going around in a loop – press 1, press 2, press 3 – putting your booking number in at different stages, and all of a sudden a voice popped up. I explained the situation to her. As soon as I said, “I’m calling from England about my son who has been arrested,” she immediately wanted to help me. The English accent has its advantages.’
‘It does. It’s helping me in here. What did she say?’
‘I said, “I can’t understand what’s happened. I can’t believe what’s going on or why he’s been arrested.” She said, “Give me his booking number, and I’ll find out what I can for you.” She gave me the charges – which I didn’t really understand – and then she said, “The bond is $750,000. This looks pretty serious.”’
I felt panic setting in again. ‘Oh dear. I’m so sorry. Mum must be worried sick.’
‘She’s bearing up.’
‘I’d better speak to her then.’
‘OK, here she is.’
‘Shaun, are you safe in there?’ Mum was crying.
I felt ill. ‘Yes, I’m all right, Mum,’ I said, not wanting to add to her worries.
‘What’s all this about?’
‘I can’t really say much on these phones, Mum. I was raided, but no drugs were found. My bond’s so
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