Writing for Fun
October 2016
The Parasite - Pete Norman
Billy’s head hung in shame – well, his head was bent forwards and his face was a textbook mask of contrition but that was only because his solicitor had made him practice it over and over again until he had it off to perfection.
‘Keep your head down, look full of remorse and keep your mouth shut until you are spoken to.’ This was good advice indeed and Billy had his fingers firmly crossed that all of this nonsense might just have the desired effect on his sentence. He risked a glance upwards towards the Chairman of the bench who was still waffling on and on about the incontrovertible nature of the evidence, but Billy had heard it all before and he was paying no attention to the words, he was only concerned with the tone of the voice – and it sounded as if he was definitely going down this time. He dropped his head and screwed up his face into the required expression once more – the best he could hope for now was to mitigate the length of the sentence.
The Magistrate stopped talking and an expectant silence fell across the court. Billy glanced across to his solicitor for some clue as to what was about to happen but his brief looked bored stiff – he was shuffling though his papers as if he had abandoned all hope with this case and was already thinking ahead to the next one.
‘William Green.’
The Magistrate’s voice echoed off the walls and Billy looked up. His solicitor’s advice had been to ‘Make eye contact for a moment and then look politely down.’ Billy dutifully complied.
‘William Green you are a parasite. I firmly believe that you have no morals whatsoever, that you choose to view the property of others – that is everything that is not firmly tied down – as being fair game, that you have no concept of the devastating effect your offending has upon your unfortunate victims.’
He paused for effect but all Billy could think was three months or six?
‘I was seriously considering a custodial sentence . . .’
Billy’s heart lifted. Was considering? Was considering?
‘. . . however, your Probation Officer still seems to harbour the notion that hidden deep within you there is a shred of decency. I have a mind that incarceration at this point might put you under the influence of others more expert in criminality and destroy any chance of further deflection.’
Billy could hardly believe his luck. The long words were completely wasted on him but he had got the flavour of it and it tasted pretty damned good to him.
‘You will serve one hundred hours in Community Service and I sincerely trust that you will not waste the opportunity you have been handed.’ The Chairman leaned forward and peered over his glasses with an expression of helpless resignation. ‘But I give you fair warning that if you squander this opportunity, if you fail to comply with the conditions in any way, no matter how minor, then you will be brought back before me and I will, without hesitation, send you down for a substantial term.’ He waved a hand dismissively at the dock. ‘Report to your Probation Officer before you leave the court.’
Megan Wilson had only been a Probation Officer for six months and she was fast losing the battle. The way she was going her success rate would have to seriously improve if she was to have any chance of surviving her own probationary period and this case left her with a feeling of impending doom. She had been studying William Green throughout the trial and she could not fail to notice how the expression on his face had changed as the sentence was delivered. It was not so much relief, it was more like triumph and her earlier positive assessment of his character was fading fast. She was convinced now that he was a recidivist with very little hope of redemption. The Magistrate had hit the nail on the head, he truly was a parasite on society and her problem now was that he was her parasite, everything rested on her inexperienced shoulders. Her shoulders sagged as she moved to intercept the idiot before he could do a runner.
At five to nine on Monday morning Megan was waiting in the Visitors’ Lounge room of the Sunnyside Nursing Home. From the window she had a clear view across the car park to the main gate. Of the five youths she had been allocated today three were already sitting behind her discussing the weekend football and another was running across the car park trying desperately to get to the door before the 9 o’clock deadline but of William Green there was no sign whatsoever. She pulled out her mobile phone to confirm that her watch was not fast. It was not. Her heart sank.
At ten minutes past nine she sighed and turned away from the window. She had four to work with and she could not waste any more time on William Green – it was up to the Court to deal with him now. The lads before her were all part way through their time with her and she had not had any problems with any of them up to now but as she led them out she pointed at the sandwiches, apples and chocolate bars on the table. ‘There are enough for five of you there – no-one touches the spare one, ok?’ A barrage of indignant comments followed her out of the room and into the main corridor.
She split the team in half and allocated a vacant bedroom to each pair. The rooms had already been cleared out in readiness for painting, the carpets were covered with dustsheets and there was enough Magnolia in each room to sink a battleship.
‘Hiya. Sorry about that – bus was late.’
She spun around. He was standing in the doorway. He was grinning at her. He seemed to have no concept whatsoever of the predicament he had put her in.
‘William . . .’
‘You can call me Billy if you want, miss.’
‘You are late.’
Billy checked his watch which he had carefully wound back to a more respectable time.
‘Only five minutes.’
Megan shook her head. ‘You are thirteen minutes late . . . on your first day.’
The grin widened. ‘Thirteen, eh, unlucky for some.’
‘I was in court when you were sentenced, Billy. I heard the Magistrate tell you quite clearly that you have to obey every instruction . . .’
‘Yeah. Miserable old bugger!’
Megan ignored his comment. ‘. . . and that includes turning up on time.’
‘But the bus was late.’
‘Billy, the other four all managed to get here punctually.’ She kept to herself that John had only made it by the skin of his teeth. ‘We’re going to start again, Billy. From now on I want you to be beyond perfect, not one more thing, do you understand? I don’t want to send you back, because I know he would send you down, but it is all up to you now, your choice . . . freedom or prison.’
Billy chose to remain silent and followed meekly when Megan led him out to their room. She was pleasantly surprised at how well he settled into the work – he told her that he had always helped his dad to decorate so she allowed him to do the rolling while she did the cutting in and when they stopped for lunch they had made good progress and the room was beginning to look quite smart.
She was feeling quite satisfied with the decision she had made – until that is they stepped into the Visitors’ Lounge for lunch, when John pointed at the food on the table. ‘It weren’t me miss, but someone’s nicked one of the Snickers bars.
Megan shook her head in defeat. ‘Come on, lads, I’m so disappointed. It could only have been one of you.’
Megan scanned their faces but they were all a picture of innocence. She now had a fight on her hands over a 50p bar of chocolate for God’s sake.
John said, ‘Tell you what, miss, we’re all here for theft except for Kevin – he’s in for assault – so what if Kev goes round and searches us all, like, then maybe when he finds out who nicked it . . .’
Billy grunted and pulled a Snickers bar out of his pocket. ‘There was one each, weren’t there, so I took mine in case I got hungry.’
‘Billy, I’m sorry but I did warn you, I said not one more thing . . .’
‘I know, miss, but, I took it when I first came in and that was before you said that – I bin as good as gold since you said that.’
Megan could feel reality slipping away from her – she could feel her career slipping away from her – she knew only too well that another failure might well be her last. She stared into Billy’s eyes without comment – she did not trust herself to speak.
Billy stared back but he knew that he really had over-stepped the line this time and the shadow of the prison gates loomed large in his mind. He dropped the cocky banter. ‘Sorry, miss. Please. It won’t happen again, I swear on me muvver’s life.’
Megan whispered, ‘One more thing, Billy – just one more thing and then I’m afraid I can’t help you any more.’
Billy was quite subdued all afternoon but Megan did not mind, she thought perhaps it was prudent to leave him to his own thoughts. Maybe he was beginning to come to terms with his situation – she certainly hoped so for both their sakes. However, when sometime later he said he was going to go to the toilet a sudden and irrational feeling of vulnerability swept over her. She finished the strip she was on and moved so she had a view through the door of Billy sauntering down the corridor. As he approached a door on his right a white haired old man came out and headed off down towards the Common Room, leaving his door open.
She saw Billy stop and look inside. As if on a sudden whim, he disappeared into the room, re-emerging a few seconds later and to her horror Megan could see banknotes in his hand. He jogged off towards the front door. She could hardly believe what she had seen. She knew now that Billy was beyond redemption, she knew that she would be down at the Job Centre in a few days’ time, she knew she had to stop him but as her life collapsed around her she was frozen to the spot.
Finally Megan forced her feet to obey and she ran down the corridor after him but to her surprise he stopped short of the front door and instead turned into the Common Room. Megan reached the doorway and watched in disbelief as Billy walked up to the white haired old man and handed the cash to him. ‘You want to be more careful me old mate. You left this in your room in plain sight. Don’t you know there are thieves in here today? It could’ve got nicked . . . and then everyone would be blaming me.’