Excerpt
It was the last time Anthony Arnold would hear the heavy metal doors squeak and clang shut. They needed oil he thought, but prisons lacked lubrication. He had lived without many comforts for the past two decades and more. He got used to that. The parole board had seen positive changes in him however and he was about to be released. The day came.

He knew there would be no one on the outside to greet him on his departure. No relatives had visited for the past twenty six years. Few, if any, would have remembered the young father who murdered his wife. Balding and slightly overweight Tony stood outside Barlinnie Prison, Glasgow, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was the same breath he inhaled every morning about this time of day in the exercise yard but today when his eyes opened there were no walls. He turned back to look at his place of incarceration. He shook his head. Society had forgiven him but for what purpose now?
‘Hey Tony, so how does it feel?’ asked the driver of a green Mazda CX 5 which pulled up beside him. ‘C’mon. Get in.’
Tony opened the car door of his aftercare social worker Brian Lafferty and sat down. He looked transfixed at the coloured controls on his car’s facia.
Brian saw his puzzled look. He lit up three yellow lights putting Tony’s car seat at maximum heat.
‘I’ve got a flat fixed for you. You’ll like it. It’s where we’re heading. It’s in an up and coming residential area, the Gorbals.’
‘My seat’s burning I think.’
‘Winter warming you mean. Most cars have them these days,’ laughed Brian.
‘The Glasgow Gorbals. God no. Not the Gorbals. That’s a God forsaken part of town,’ said Tony.
‘Not now. Modern one bedroom flats. There are a few old cons in some but it’s up to you, who you meet.’
‘Well, at least it’s not Kilmarnock.’
‘Why’s that?’ asked Brian.
Tony clasped his hands tightly. The blood disappeared leaving cold white knuckles.
‘The scene of my crime.’
‘But you have no connection there now. We’ve been through that,’ said Brian wondering what was on his client’s mind.
Tony stroked his clean shaven chin. ‘You think I don’t have family?’ he said lowering his voice.
‘That’s what you told me, didn’t you?’
‘Aye, I did. But it’s probably not true. I had a daughter and ....maybe a son....’
‘I see. So, any idea where they are? Could you contact them? In fact, I should make the introductions,’ suggested Brian.
‘They possibly stayed in Ayrshire. I don’t know. If the girl married, I’ll never find her anyway. The other kid? Maybe....maybe he didn’t exist. Perhaps I made him up.’
Brian’s furrowed brow eased as he opened his glove box and took out his Caro Emerald CD.
‘Here, take out the disc and put it in the player,’ said Brian.
Tony ran his finger along the CD entrance slit.
‘You mean in here?’