This is a message to all solicitors and barristers who deal with the incarcerated: your visit can be the most important event of the week, if not the month, so don’t cancel lightly. Potts walks dejectedly back down the path, head bowed.
4.00 pm
Mr Hocking drops into SMU. He tells me that the whole of spur four on the north block (nine rooms) has just been searched, because an officer thought he heard a mobile phone ringing. Possession of a mobile phone is an offence that will ensure you are sent back to a C-cat the same day.
4.30 pm
Write for two hours, feel exhausted, but at least I no longer have to report for the 10 pm roll-call…
7.00 pm
I join Doug and Clive at the hospital. Clive tells me that the officers found nothing during this morning’s search. Often ‘hearing a mobile phone’ is just an excuse to carry one out when they are actually trying to find something else. Doug chips in, ‘Truth is, they were looking for another camera which the press have recently smuggled in. They even know the name of the prisoner involved, and as he’s due to be released on Friday, they want to be sure he doesn’t leave with a role of photos that would embarrass them.’
11.40 pm
Potts is rushed to Boston Hospital, having taken an overdose.
DAY 105 WEDNESDAY 31 OCTOBER 2001
6.23 am
I wake thinking about Potts. He reminds me how awful being incarcerated is, and why inmates forever live in hope. I later discover that Potts will be moved to Sudbury Prison, so that he can be near his wife and family. I know how he feels. I’m still waiting to hear from Spring Hill.
8.30 am
This morning we have a risk-assessment board. Four prisoners who are applying for early release on tag (HCD) are to appear before the deputy governor, Mr Leighton, and the senior probation officer, Mr Simpson. If a candidate has an unblemished record while in jail – never been put on a charge, never been involved with drugs – he is in with a chance. But the prime consideration is whether the prisoner is likely to reoffend. So if the inmate is in for burglary or credit-card fraud, his chances aren’t that good.
During the next hour I take each of the four prisoners up to face the board. They leave twenty minutes later, two with smiles on their faces who want to shake me by the hand, and two who barge past me, effing and blinding anyone who crosses their path.
11.11 am
Mr New has received a fax from Spring Hill, requesting three more documents and five more questions answered: a clearance release from the hospital to confirm I’m fit and well and not on any medication; my records from Belmarsh and Wayland to show I have never been put on report; and confirmation from NSC that I have not been put on a charge since I’ve been here. They also want to know if I intend to appeal against my sentence, and if so, will I be appearing in court. Mr New looks surprised when I say that I won’t. There are two reasons for my decision. I never wish to spend another minute of my life in Belmarsh, which is where they transfer you if you are due to appear at the High Court, and I’m damned if I’ll put my wife through the ordeal of facing the press outside the court as she arrives and departs.
11.30 am
At the hospital, sister checks over the forms from Spring Hill. Linda ticks all the little boxes and confirms I am remarkably fit – for my age, cheeky lady.
12 noon
Over lunch, Doug warns me that it still might be a couple of months before Spring Hill have a vacancy because it’s the most popular prison in Britain, and in any case, they may not enjoy the attendant publicity that I would attract. Bell (a gym orderly) leans across and informs me, ‘It’s the best nick I’ve ever been to. I only moved here to be closer to my wife.’
3.52 pm
Mr New reappears clutching my blameless record from Belmarsh and Wayland.
At 4.04 he faxes Spring Hill with the eight pages they requested. He receives confirmation that they arrived at 4.09 pm. I’ll keep you informed.
4.15 pm
The senior Listener, Brian (conspiracy to defraud an ostrich company), turns up at SMU. He asks if the backs of prisoners’ identity cards can be redesigned, as they currently advertise the Samaritans and Crimestoppers. Brian points out that as no prisoner can dial an 0800 number the space would be better used informing new arrivals about the Listeners’ scheme. He has a point.
5.00 pm
Write for two hours.
7.00 pm
Doug tells me that the governing governor, Mr Lewis, dropped into the hospital today as he’d read in the
‘Quite right,’ Doug informed him, ‘Jeffrey buys them from the canteen every Thursday, and leaves a packet here for both of us which we have with my coffee and his Bovril.’
A week ago I told Linda that you could buy a jar of Marmite from the canteen, but not Bovril, which I much prefer. The following day a jar of Bovril appeared.
Prisoners break rules all the time, often without realizing it. Officers have to turn a blind eye; otherwise everyone would be on a charge every day of the week, and the prison service would grind to a halt. Of course there’s a difference between Bovril and beer, between having an extra towel and a mobile phone, or a hardback book and a tea bag full of heroin. Most officers accept this and use their common sense.
8.26 pm
Two officers, Mr Spencer and Mr Hayes, join us in the hospital for a coffee break. We learn that eleven new prisoners came in this evening, and only seven will be released tomorrow, so the prison is nearly full. They also add that another prisoner has been placed in the segregation cell overnight and will be up in front of the governor tomorrow. He’s likely to be on his way back to Lincoln Prison. It appears that a camera was found in his room, the third one in the past ten days. They also know which newspaper is involved.
DAY 106 THURSDAY 1 NOVEMBER 2001
6.19 am
In prison, you don’t think about what can be achieved long term; all thoughts are short term. When is the next canteen so I can buy another phonecard? Can I change my job? Will I be enhanced? Can I move into a single room? At the moment the only thought on my mind is, can I get to Spring Hill? Not when, can. In prison
8.30 am
Fifteen new prisoners in today, among them a Major Willis, who is sixty-four. I look forward to finding out what he’s been up to.
Willis, Clarke (the cleaner) and myself do not
9.30 am
Mr Hocking, the security officer, drops in for a cup of tea. He tells me that Braithwaite, who was found to have a camera in his room, is now on his way back to Lincoln. The newspaper involved was the
