Heaven: A Prison Diary Part 15

Added to this is the fact that our star goalkeeper, Bell, has been suspended for one match after using foul and abusive language when the referee awarded a penalty to the opposition. He was a little unlucky that an FA official was a.s.sessing the referee that afternoon, and therefore the ref couldn't pretend not to have heard Bell. Indeed they could have heard, 'Get some gla.s.ses, you f.u.c.kin' muppet,' in the centre of Boston.

Our reserve goalkeeper is Carl (fraud), the SMU orderly who took over from me and comes over most evenings to watch TV in the hospital. He gamely agreed to stand in for the one fixture, while Bell watches from the sidelines.

I felt it nothing less than my duty to turn up and support the team in such dire circ.u.mstances. I left at half time, when we were trailing 7-1, just after our prison reporter, Major Willis (stabbed his wife with a kitchen knife two years), told me that the Boston Standard had given him so little s.p.a.ce to report the match that he would only be able to list the names of the scorers. I was also amused by his chivvying from the touchline: 'Well played, Harry,' 'Good tackle, David,' and 'Super shot, Reg,' as if he were a house master addressing the 3rd XI of a minor public school.

5.00 pm I join Carl for supper, but he doesn't look too happy.

'What was the final score?' I ask.

'We had a better second half,' he offers.

'So what was the final score?' I repeat.

'15-3.'

The only man who has a big smile on his face is the suspended Bell, whose position as 'first choice goalkeeper' remains secure.

DAY 179 - SUNDAY 13 JANUARY 2002.

11.00 am Once Linda has closed the surgery for the morning, I settle down to read The Sunday Times. The lead story is about Prince Harry, and the revelation in the News of the World that he's tried marijuana and has also been involved in heavy drinking, despite the fact that he's still under age. Some of us are old enough to remember the shocking revelation that Prince Charles was caught drinking cherry brandy when he was still at Gordonstoun.

2.00 pm My visitors this week are Stephan Shakespeare, my former chief of staff for the London mayoral campaign, Robert Halfon, senior adviser to Oliver Letwin MP, the Shadow Home Secretary, and my son Will.

The general view is that IDS is doing better than expected. I warn them that if the inmates and the prison staff are anything to go by most people simply don't know who he is.

Will tells me that he won't be returning to the States until after the appeal. He also reports that G.o.dfrey Barker has had a change of heart and is no longer willing to help and may even leave the country rather than be forced to give evidence about the dinner party conversation that took place with Mr Justice Potts. His wife Anne has said she will divorce him if he does. 19 8.00 pm A lifer has absconded. He was out on an unaccompanied town visit and didn't return for check-in by 7 pm. If he's still absent in twenty-four hours' time, the Home Office will release the name and his record to the press. When a young hooligan escapes, it rarely makes even the local paper, but the public has a right to know if a murderer is on the loose.

Doug fills me in on the background. It seems that the inmate failed an MDT (heroin) a few weeks ago and was moved out of the lifers' unit back onto the north block.

The result of his latest test last week is also expected to be positive. As this will be a second offence, he would automatically be transferred back to a B-cat, and have at least another eighteen months added to his sentence. This is a man who began with a twelve-year tariff, and has already served seventeen years.

If he'd been a model prisoner, he could have been released five years ago.

DAY 180 - MONDAY 14 JANUARY 2002.

9.00 am When the doctor arrives each morning, he first signs the discharge papers of any prisoner due to be released. He then signs applications for a five-day leave, showing a clean bill of health. His next task is to see all the new prisoners who have just arrived from another jail. Finally, the doctor handles 'nickings': prisoners who have been put on a charge, and again must be pa.s.sed fit both mentally and physically before punishment can be administered. Once all these inmates have been dealt with, the doctor moves onto the genuinely sick.

Today we have three 'nickings'. Two are commonplace, but the third even took the governor by surprise. The first was for swearing at an officer, and that has to be pretty extreme for the prisoner to end up in front of the governor. The second was an inmate found to have 20 in his room. The first ended up with four days added to his sentence; the second seven days, but the third ...

All prisoners out on town leave have to report back to the gate sober before 7 pm. This particular inmate was a few minutes late and was, to quote the gate officer, legless. Out there you can be breathalysed if you're driving, in here we are when we're walking.

When charged with being drunk, the prisoner claimed that he'd swallowed half a bottle of mouthwash thirty minutes before returning to the prison. It is true that a bottle of mouthwash contains alcohol, and it will register on the breathalyser at 0.5 per cent.

The trouble was that the breathalyser was showing 3.5 per cent. Next, they checked his medical records, and as the prisoner had not visited the surgery for over a month, and never requested a mouthwash, he was asked to explain why he suddenly drank half a bottle.

'Because I was giving my partner a b.l.o.w. .j.o.b,' he replied.

When the officer recovered from this revelation, he thumbed through the rule book and came up with a winner. 'Did you sign the trust agreement for prisoners who are on a town visit?' he asked innocently.

'Yes,' came back the immediate reply.

'And who did you select as the person who would be responsible for you at all times?'

'My mother,' the prisoner replied.

'And did your mother witness the action you have just described?'

The inmate paused for a moment, pleaded guilty, and had twenty-eight days added to his sentence.

11.00 am Linda leaves the hospital and walks across to reception, where two prisoners have just been taken from their rooms without warning, as they are to be shipped out to Lincoln (B-cat). They have both failed an MDT and came up positive for heroin.

Prisoners are never given any warning they are on the move in case they decide to abscond rather than be transferred back to closed conditions.

DAY 181 - TUESDAY 15 JANUARY 2002.

9.00 am The Derby Five are on the paper chase, and each of them comes to the hospital to say goodbye. Eamon, who shared a room with me for a short time, is particularly friendly and says he hopes we will meet again. I nod.

5.00 pm Over supper I sit next to John (murder) who makes an interesting point about Chris (murder) who is still on the run. If he's managed to escape to certain European countries (Sweden, Portugal or Italy) whose governments do not approve of our tariff system for lifers, it's possible that the authorities in that country may turn a blind eye, especially after the Home Office announced today that they did not consider Chris to be a danger to the public.

8.30 pm I'm going over today's script when an inmate staggers into the hospital. He's sweating profusely, and badly out of breath. I take his blood pressure, 176/109, and immediately brief the unit officer, but not until I've taken my own (130/76) to check the machine is not faulty.

Mr Downs (who replaced Mr New as PO) is on duty and I tell him that Gail has been keeping an eye on this patient for the past four days, and told me that if the monitor went over 105 again, he was to be taken straight to Pilgrim Hospital for a full checkup.

'It's not quite that easy,' explains Mr Downs. 'I've only got five officers on duty tonight, and this inmate hasn't been risk a.s.sessed, so one of us would have to accompany him.'

Mr Downs sighs, phones for a taxi, and instructs an officer to travel with the inmate to Pilgrim Hospital (cost 20).

That means tonight we have 191 prisoners being guarded by four officers one of them a young woman who's recently joined the service.

Good night.

DAY 182 - WEDNESDAY 16 JANUARY 2002.

10.00 am Martin, the inmate who lost two months for attempting to steal some prison clothes on the morning he was due to be released, has had another twenty-five days added to his sentence, this time for being caught with marijuana in his room. He was originally due to leave NSC on 14 December, and now he won't be released until 14 March. At this rate I might even get out before him.

It's not uncommon for inmates to end up serving a longer period than their original sentence. However it will take Martin a number of 'knock backs' before he can beat a prisoner in Wayland ( A Prison Diary, Volume II) who started with a three-year sentence for possession of heroin and is still a resident of that establishment eight years later.

3.00 pm Among the new inductees are a policeman and a man who was sentenced to five years for attempting to kill his mother-in-law. The rest are in for the usual tariff burglary, driving offences, drugs, drugs and drugs.

Still, I sense one or two stories among this lot.

7.00 pm I have a visit from Keith (cla.s.s B drugs), which is a bit of a surprise as he was on the paper chase last Monday, and should have been discharged yesterday. I can't believe he's committed another crime in the last twenty-four hours. No. It turns out that the parole board, having informed the prison that he could be released on Monday, have now told him he must wait until one or two more pieces of paper are signed. Why couldn't they tell him that last Monday rather than unnecessarily raise his hopes?

I tell Keith about a prisoner who was transferred from Leicester yesterday and is being returned to that prison today. The authorities forgot to send all his parole details.

The man travelled to NSC in a sweat box, spent the night here, and now has to go back to Leicester Prison. By the way, we expect him to return to NSC next week. This bureaucratic incompetence will be paid for out of taxpayers' money.

DAY 183 - THURSDAY 17 JANUARY 2002.

After a month of being hospital orderly, I have my work schedule mastered.

5.00-7.00 am Write first draft of previous day's events.

7.00-7.30 am Draw curtains, make bed, put on kettle, shave, bathe and dress.

Prepare lists and make coffee for Linda dash of milk, one sweetener.

7.30-8.00 am Surgery, usually twenty to thirty inmates who collect prescriptions or need to make an appointment to see the doctor at nine.

8.00-8.30 am Deliver slips for absentees from work to the farm, the works, stores, mess, education department, north and south blocks and the gate.

8.30-8.45 am Breakfast in the dining room.

9.00-10.30 am Doctor's surgery.

11.00 am Acupuncture, usually three or four inmates.

11.10-11.40 am Read this morning's draft of this diary.

11.50 am Wake up patients having acupuncture; Linda removes needles.

12 noon Lunch.

12.40 pm Phone Alison at the penthouse, and collect my mail from south unit office.

1.00-3.00 pm Continue second draft of yesterday's work.

3.00-4.00 pm Check in arrivals from other prisons. Give short introductory talk, then take their blood pressure and weight, and carry out diabetes test (urine).

4.30-4.50 pm Evening surgery. Those inmates who ordered prescriptions this morning can pick them up as they'll have been collected from a chemist in Boston during the afternoon.

4.50 pm Linda leaves for the day.

5.00 pm Supper.

5.30-7.00 pm Final writing session, totalling nearly six hours in all.

7.00 pm Unlock the end room for use by outside personnel, e.g. Listeners, Jehovah's Witnesses, drug and alcohol counselling sessions and prison committees.

7.10-8.00 pm Read through the day's mail, make annotated notes and post to Alison.

8.00-10.00 pm Doug and Carl join me for a coffee, to chat or watch a film on TV.

10.30 pm Read until I feel sleepy.

The hospital orderly has the longest and most irregular hours of any prisoner. It's seven days a week. On Sat.u.r.day and Sunday after Linda and Gail have left I sweep the hospital ward, lobby, lavatory and bathroom before mopping throughout. (Although I can't remember when I last did any domestic ch.o.r.es, I find the work therapeutic. I wouldn't, however, go so far as saying I enjoy it.) I then check my supplies, and restock the cupboards. If I'm short of anything, I make out an order form for the stores (memo pads, lavatory paper and today for a new vacuum cleaner the old one has finally given up).

Some prisoners tell me that they would rather work in the kitchen or the officers' mess because they get more food. I'd rather be in the hospital, and have a bath and a good night's sleep.

DAY 184 - FRIDAY 18 JANUARY 2002.

5.26 am The night security guard has just walked in and tells me with a smile that I can abscond.

I put my pen down and ask why.

'We've got one too many on the manifest.'

'How did that happen?' I ask.

'A lad who was released yesterday arrived home and no one wanted him, so he crept back in last night and dossed down in his old room.'

'So what did you do?' I ask.

'Marched him back to the gate and threw him out for a second time.'

I feel sorry for a man who has nowhere to go, and can only wonder how long it will be before he reoffends.

8.00 am I b.u.mp into Keith ('knowingly concerned' with a cla.s.s B drug) on his way back from breakfast. He must still be waiting for his missing papers to be signed before they can release him. You _ might be as I was puzzled by what his charge means.

Keith ran a small transport company, and one of his lorries had been fitted with spare fuel tanks. When the driver came through customs, the spare fuel tanks were found to contain 249 kilos of marijuana. Keith was sentenced to nine years.

Whenever a judge pa.s.ses a sentence on drugs, there's a tariff according to the cla.s.s of the drug A, B or C. Also relevant is whether you are considered to be 'in possession of' or a supplier, and the amount involved.

Drugs' cla.s.sification: Cla.s.s A heroin, ecstasy, cocaine, opiates Cla.s.s B cannabis (marijuana) (now Cla.s.s C), amphetamines Cla.s.s C anabolic steroids, keratin, amyl ni-trite (poppers) Here's a rough guide to the maximum penalties: Cla.s.s A possession, seven years supplier, life (fine or both) (fine or both) Cla.s.s B possession, five years supplier, fourteen years Cla.s.s C possession, two years supplier, five years Many of the inmates feel unjustly treated when sentences can vary so much from court to court, and as over 50 per cent of prisoners are in on drug-related charges, comparisons are made all the time. A few admit to having got off lightly, while most feel hard done by.

5.00 pm The man who was sentenced to five years for attempting to murder his mother-in-law turns out to be another unusual case. This particular inmate hit his mother-in-law when she refused to allow him access to visit his children. She collapsed and was taken to hospital. As she didn't die, and the police didn't have proof that he intended to murder her, the charge was dropped to aggravated burglary and he was sentenced to five years.

It would take a trained legal mind to understand how the second charge came about.

The prisoner explains that when he went in search of his children, he entered his mother-in-law's house when she had not invited him in and this offence is aggravated burglary.

DAY 185 - SAt.u.r.dAY 19 JANUARY 2002.

2.00 pm I was hoping to see Mary, Will and James today, but the authorities have decreed that I've used up all my visits for this month, and therefore can't see them until the beginning of February.

3.00 pm This week's football match has also been cancelled, so once again I come face to face with the prisoner's biggest enemy, boredom.

DAY 186 - SUNDAY 20 JANUARY 2002.

10.51 am Mr Hart (an old-fashioned socialist) visits the hospital to tell me that there's a doublepage spread about me in the News of the World. It seems that Eamon (one of the Derby Five) is the latest former inmate to take his thirty pieces of silver and tell the world what it's like to share a room with Jeff.

I am surprised how many prisoners visit me today to tell me what they think of Eamon. Strange phrases like 'broken the code', 'not the done thing' come from men who are in for murder and GBH. After Belmarsh, Fletch, Tony, Del Boy and Billy said nothing, while Darren, Jimmy, Jules and Sketch from Wayland also kept their counsel. Here at NSC, I trust Doug, Carl, Jim, Clive and Matthew. And they would have stories to tell.

4.00 pm I've started a prison tea club as I love to entertain whatever the circ.u.mstances. Admittedly it would have been impossible at Belmarsh or Wayland, but as I now reside in the hospital, I am even able to send out invitations. Membership is confined to those over the age of forty.

My guests are invited to attend 'Club Hospital' on Sunday between the hours of 4 pm and 6 pm. They will be served tea, coffee, biscuits and scones supplied by Linda. The current membership is around a dozen, and includes David (fraud, schoolmaster), John (fraud, accountant), John (fraud, businessman), Keith (knowingly in possession of drugs), Brian (ostrich farm and chapel organist), Doug (importing cigarettes), the Major (stabbed his wife), the Captain (theft, drummed out of the regiment), Malcolm (fraud) and Carl (fraud).

The talk is not of prison life, but what's going on in the outside world. Whether the IRA should be given rooms in Parliament, whether Bin Laden is dead or alive, the state of the NHS and the latest from the Test Match in India. All of my guests keep to the club rules.