It was the same process every time: she was searched, and her possessions were removed from her to be stored in a locker, making her feel like a criminal herself. Sian hated the prison. There was a horrible irony about its central position within the heart of Cardiff: Nathan was right in the thick of things – the world moving by in all its vibrancy and colour – yet the high walls and barbed-wire fences that surrounded the ugly grey block buildings meant he was so far removed from life outside the place that he may as well have been living on the moon.

She would wait in line with the other relatives, occasionally recognising a returning face. People rarely looked back. They had all come to look the same to her: all apprehensive; all a little broken in some way. She had thought at first that she might find a certain solace in the other people who came to visit family and friends; that their pain might in some way help to ease her own, but that hadn’t been the case. Each visit saw her more removed from other people.

She knew that was why she had been drawn to Gavin. She knew he was wrong, but he’d been kind to her and loneliness wasn’t picky. He was there, and that was more than could be said for anyone else.

The guard at the door barely acknowledged her as she entered the visiting hall. Her eyes scanned the room until they found her son. He was sitting with his back to her, hunched forward in his seat; his shoulders slumped as though he was carrying a dead weight, not the mere one hundred and forty pounds that made up his skinny frame.

Her heart broke a little more every time she saw him. Since being moved from the young offenders’ prison, he had become even more withdrawn. She had always feared losing him, but had never imagined it might happen like this.

‘Nathan.’

He didn’t lift his head when she spoke his name, and when she sat opposite him, she realised why. His left eye was a bloodshot burst of green and purple bruising.

‘Jesus, Nathan, what the hell’s happened?’

It was obvious what had happened. What had Christian said through the letter box the previous day? Something about prison being no place for a boy like Nathan.

Sian felt a sickness lurch in her stomach. She wanted to reach across the table and hold her son, but the prison visiting rules forbade physical contact. Anger coursed through her, sudden and violent. She wanted to find the person who had hurt him and rip his head from his shoulders with her bare hands.

‘What are they doing about it, Nathan? You need to report whoever’s done this.’

‘Don’t start, Mam, please.’ His eyes pleaded with her. He looked on the edge of tears and she suspected that if they hadn’t been sitting in a room filled with his fellow inmates, there would have been nothing that would have stopped them flowing freely. ‘My appeal …’ he began.

He couldn’t get past the words. He looked down at his lap and picked at the nails on his right hand, searching for anything that would keep him from having to look at his mother’s face.

‘I’m so sorry.’

The words sounded pathetic. They were meaningless. Sorry wasn’t going to change the decision that had been made about Nathan’s future. Sorry wasn’t going to alter the fact that even when his sentence was finally over, he would still be scarred by the brand of criminal; a sentence that would hang over him for the rest of his life, wherever it took him.

The empty promise his own father had made just to get access to the house and taunt her with her helplessness bounced around Sian’s brain, deafening her. Perhaps she should take the anger she felt for the person who had harmed her son and direct it purely at Christian, she thought. There was no one more deserving of her bitterness. The so-called justice system had practically let him get away with what he’d done to her family. Maybe it was time for her to do something about it instead.

‘I am not giving up on you,’ she said, moving closer to the table between them. ‘Nathan. Listen to me. I’m going to speak to another lawyer, get us some better help.’

‘There’s no point. We can’t afford it anyway.’

‘It doesn’t matter. I’ll find the money somehow.’

The buzzer rang for the end of visiting and Sian cursed the noise, as she did on every visit. There was never enough time. Just as she felt they had just got started, he was ripped away from her once again.

‘Do me a favour, please, Mam?’ Nathan said, standing from his chair.

‘Course, love. Anything.’

‘Don’t come again.’

He turned his back and walked away, before Sian had time to respond.