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Pottery is cancelled because Anne’s car has broken down, so all the prisoners in the art class have to return to their cells (the first irony). Back on A block, everyone on my spur is shaking hands with Malcolm, who is about to be transferred to a D-cat. He comes to my cell to say farewell, and hopes that I will be joining him soon, as he knows Spring Hill is also my first choice.
‘When are Group 4 collecting you?’ I ask.
They aren’t,’ he replies. ‘Now I’m in a D-cat and past my FLED, I can drive myself over to Aylesbury, and as long as I’ve checked in by three this afternoon, no one will give a damn.’
No sooner has Malcolm left the wing, than Jimmy slips into my cell. ‘I’m ready to talk now,’ he says.
Jimmy and Malcolm are both D-cats (Jimmy remains at Wayland because his home is nearby) and are the only two inmates at Wayland allowed to work outside the prison walls every day. Both of them have a job maintaining the grounds beyond the perimeter fence during the week, and at an animal sanctuary on Saturday mornings. The sanctuary is a voluntary project, which concentrates on helping animals in distress. The work ranges from assisting lame beasts to walk or birds to fly, to having to bury them when they die.
Every Saturday morning at the sanctuary, Jimmy and Malcolm join several volunteers from the local village. Among them one lady who has left
Malcolm in no doubt how she feels about him - Malcolm has the rugged looks of a matinee idol, and possesses an inordinate amount of charm.
One of the tasks none of the volunteers relish is having to bury dead animals, and Percy the hedgehog was no exception. Everyone was surprised when the lady in question stepped forward and volunteered to bury Percy. Malcolm, gallant as ever, quickly agreed to accompany her into the forest that bordered the sanctuary.
Armed with spades, they disappeared into the thicket. Forty-five minutes later they reappeared but, Jimmy noticed, minus their spades.
‘Where’s your spade, mate?’ demanded Jimmy.
‘I knew there was something else we were meant to do,’ Malcolm blurted out. They both charged back into the forest, and Malcolm returned only just in time to be escorted back to the prison.
Jimmy goes on to tell me that Malcolm left Wayland just in time, because one of the ladies who served behind the counter at family visits has also just signed up to join the group on Saturdays at the animal sanctuary. Not to mention the female officer who I saw standing outside his cell window for an hour two nights ago, who is now thinking of applying for a transfer…
‘God knows,’ says Jimmy, ‘what Malcolm will get up to in a D-cat where the regime is far more relaxed.’
‘Is he married?’ I ask.
‘Oh yeah,’ Jimmy replies. ‘Happily.’
1.17 pm
I am sitting on the end of my bed reading The Times when Darren bursts in without knocking - most unlike him.
‘Switch on your TV’ he says without explanation, ‘they’re running it on every channel.’
Together we watch the horrors unfold in New York. I assume that the first plane must have been involved in some tragic accident, until we both witness a second jet flying into the other tower of the World Trade Center. To begin with, I feel the commentator’s comparison with Pearl Harbor is somewhat exaggerated. But later, when I realize the full extent of the devastation and loss of life, I am less sure. The reporters have already moved on to asking, ‘Who is responsible?’
Although I am mesmerized by this vile piece of history as it continues to unfold, prison timetables cannot be altered, whatever is taking place in the rest of the world. If I don’t report to the gym by three fifteen, they will come in search of me.
3.15 pm
Much of the talk in the gym is of the carnage in New York and its consequences, although several of the prisoners continue their bench presses, oblivious to what’s taking place in the outside world. As soon as the hour is up, I rush back to my cell to find that the Pentagon has been hit by a third domestic carrier, and a fourth commercial plane thought to have been heading for the White House has crashed just outside Pennsylvania.
430 pm
For several hours, I sit glued to the television. Among the snippets of news offered between the continual replays of the two planes crashing into the twin towers is a statement by William Hague; he has postponed the announcement of who will be the next leader of the Conservative Party as a mark of respect to the American people.
The prime minister cancels his speech to the TUC in Brighton and hurries back to Downing Street, where he makes a statement fully supporting President Bush, and describing terrorism as the new world evil.
7.00 pm
The sight of innocent people jumping out of those towers and the voices of passengers trapped on a domestic flight talking to their next of kin on mobile phones will be, for me, the enduring memory of this evil day. Calling my agent and my son James was to have been the highlight of my day. It now seems somewhat irrelevant.
DAY 56 - WEDNESDAY 12 SEPTEMBER 2001
5.44 am
Yesterday was dominated by the news from America, and what retaliation George W. Bush might take.
