Ben’s Bit, part 7 – Heels in the Night

The sound began one night; an insistent tapping entering my dreams, making me think of leaking pipes and other failing elements of the old infrastructure of Bakewell’s ‘improving’ jail.

When it continued, my thin sleep on the thinner mattress came to an end, and I lay, ears straining in the total blackness, as the insistent clicking grew louder. It stopped outside my cell door and for a second I wondered if Yellow Eyes was playing some sort of trick on me; but the slats in the door’s inspection grill did not flick open–as I half expected–instead, the clicking noise started, again, diminishing in volume as the perpetrator moved away.

The following night it was repeated at the same time, with exactly the same pattern. To a man there is something special about the sound of a woman’s heels; but it is an…