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Then I let out a stifled scream, which only made my throat hurt.
Then I sank down onto my haunches. First Rose, and now Prana had deserted me. What was wrong with me? Was it really all my own fault?
The worst of it was, I was beginning to think that this was the case. I went over everything, trying to see things from Prana's point of view. If our positions had been reversed, would I have been pleased had she deliberately tried to get her head shaved? No, of course I wouldn't. I'd have felt guilty and partly responsible and cross. And Rose, too: She wasn't really trying to bully me: as she saw it she was trying to save me from myself. And I had bitten her for her trouble. And even though it was humiliating and painful to be pinned down and spanked, I had to admit that my pride was hurt far more than my bottom.
It looked as though I was going to have to swallow a large dose of that pride.
I sat there, feeling sorry for myself, and wondering where and when it would be best to apologise to Rose. The ground was damp, and I tucked my skirt carefully under my bottom. Across the yard some of the prisoners had got hold of a length of string from somewhere and had tied one end to the fence, to form a skipping rope. Someone - it looked like Fran - was holding the other end and swinging it whilst other women jumped over. Occasionally Fran would tug the string upwards whilst somebody was straddling it: there were shrieks of laughter and pretend outrage as the string pulled tight against the woman's crotch.
Then Micky came across the Exercise Yard and slid down on her haunches beside me.
"You look very unhappy," she said.
"It's nothing," I said, not wanting to go through the whole rigmarole again. "Just a spat with Rose: I'll put it right."
"I saw Prana walking away from you," said Micky.
"I don't want to talk about it," I said.
"OK Chloe," Micky said.
I really wanted her to leave me alone, but didn't like to say so. I thought if I just said nothing she might take the hint, so I stared at the pattern of shadows cast by the mesh over our legs and sandals. But after a few minutes of silence she said:
"Chloe: would you like me to rub you? It might make you feel better."
This took me by surprise, though I'd been half expecting it for some time. I hesitated briefly: I knew half my troubles were the result of frustration, and the idea of a helping hand was very tempting. But I didn't want to encourage Micky; and I still felt too upset.
"That's kind Micky - thank you," I said. "But I'm not in the mood. What I really want is just to be left alone."
"OK," she said, though obviously disappointed. "But wouldn't you like to talk about it?"
"I really do want to be left alone," I said.
Micky stood up, and without another word walked away. I felt worse than ever - now I'd hurt her feelings on top of everything else. I wondered if there was time to put things right before another precious hour of freedom had been wasted, and scanned the distant women looking for Rose, but I could not see her. Really I would have much preferred to apologise in private, in our cell: but then I would not be able to tell Prana we had made up until next Showers. I was running through what I would say to Rose, when I thought I heard my name being called.
It was faint, but unmistakeable. I looked around, but there was nobody nearby, except Fatima, who like me was sitting against the mesh fence with her head between her knees.
"Fatima?" I said. "Did you call me?"
"Yes Chloe," she said: again I could barely hear her. For one thing she had a soft, high-pitched voice, which was completely at odds with her body, for she was quite a substantial girl with full breasts and strong thighs; for another, she kept her hands in front of her face as she spoke, as though she could barely admit, even to herself, that she had spoken to me.
"I can hardly hear you," I said. "Wait a minute."
I shuffled across, and sat myself down again next to her.