Partners In Grime

by Lily Millward

Life in a prison cell isn't the best. Nothing to do, nothing to see.

Four days earlier...

I got a sudden threatening phone call. It was my old friend Bill, who had just come back from the Honey Hill Prison, just in land off of the United Kingdom's East coastline. I answered the phone and all that came out of it was a gravelly voice saying Parkway Street, the jewellers, 12.30am, dressed all in black. By the time I could answer back a deafening beep pricked at my ears. My mind drew a blank, I hadn't been doing so well this year with money, and I still had to pay the rent to my landlord, so I was stuck. I didn't have much time. As the clock ticked away, I pondered the outcome that could occur from this dangerous mission. Sometime later, I decided. So I hastily, fumbled on my old, tattered hat and my trusty trench coat, sped out the door into my car and off I went. I knew I couldn't be a fraction of a second late or the consequences I would then face would be dire.

I had arrived, 12.28am. The ominous pitch black sky loomed over me while the thin street was illuminated by rusty street lights. I had panned around the street until in the corner of my eye I spotted Bill. I gulped. He was stood next to the jewellers, I stumbled over. In a deep voice he said are you ready? I then mumbled yes back. It was time.

As we approached the oak door, in his hand it looked somewhat like a stolen key. He opened the door. The loud creaking of the door made me think that we would lose our cover, thankfully it didn't. As the lustrous gems gleamed in a shaft of moonlight we started work on the job. The shimmering rows of expensive jewellery caught my eye; Bill gave me the tools that were needed. The clock ticked away and we knew we didn't have much time left. We polished up; hoisted the hefty bags over our shoulders then we made our way out. This job was done.

Being back with Bill wasn't as bad as I thought.

Over the next three nights, it was good to be back with someone who had experience with this kind of dirty work. Monday we cleaned up in the bank, Tuesday we hoovered up in the watchmakers and finally on Wednesday, the dirtiest of all, the electronics store.

Life in a prison cell isn't the best. Nothing to do, nothing to see. As my mop squelched in the bucket of hot water, I began the hard work that was needed on the grimy prison cells. I'm so glad Bill signed the cleaning contract for our company - Partners in Grime - to make the filthy prison spotless again, because now I have enough hard earned money to pay my rent and even for the first time, a holiday.