It’s drizzling out on the Astroturf. Only five of us decided to brave the weather, so for the first tine I find myself walking round with the most verbally aggressive inmate in our hall. Until about a month ago, I have said a friendly “Hi!” when passing by several times a week, (though he’s never replied). But my dislike for him has grown because he was usually the one who initiated the bullying that I’ve seen in recent weeks.

Today, however, I find myself walking round the turf with him and three of my regular Astro-buddies, chatting about this and that: Alcohol laws in different countries, rock-climbing, the relationship between Covid-19 lockdown and domestic violence… He tells us that if he had been in lockdown with his sister he “would have smacked her one”. Of course, he’s “not into hitting girls or anything”… she just has a real talent for winding him up.

We narrowly escape being shat on by a seagull, and then we laugh as I describe how I once got a seagull drunk by feeding it vodka-soaked bread, which made it get progressively more aggressive, and eventually start crash-landing. He tells us about how he once fed a seagull a sausage with a razorblade embedded in it.

We also talk about his home life – just very briefly – but it allows me to see him with different eyes. I imagine a dark veil that I have placed over him being pulled away. Generally in life, I don’t tend to dislike anyone, so lately I’ve found that my negative feelings towards him have drained a lot of my energy. I feel happy and relieved to now find myself warming to this guy.

By the time our hour is up I feel that we are just a little less disconnected from one another. Yes, he has violent tendencies and a thinly-shrouded cruel streak… Yes, he is a bully, and yes he enjoys shredding the gastro-intestinal tracts of wild birds. But he also has a lively, sociable and fun outlook… he loves the mountains… he loves his daughter. And though I fear for his future I wish him well.