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DAY 69 - TUESDAY 25 SEPTEMBER 2001
9.00 am
‘Burglars.’ This is the cry that goes up from fellow inmates when officers appear on the spur to begin a ‘spin’ - cell search.
I didn’t get to pottery yesterday because of my legal visit, and it looks
as if I’m going to miss it again today. We’ve just been told to stay in our cells, as a search is about to be conducted following the snooker hall incident on Sunday. I fail to see how a prisoner throwing a snooker ball at another inmate should result in the whole of A block being searched two days later. However, it’s Shane (GBH, gym orderly) who tells me that when they ‘spun’ the assailant’s cell, they found a nine-inch blade hidden under his mattress, and the governor has ordered a comprehensive search of the whole block.
Searching 112 cells takes the duty officers a little over two hours. Mr Shepperson and a colleague spend ten minutes in my cell only to discover that I have two more towels than I’m entitled to and a T-shirt that Sergio has given me because he’s leaving on Thursday. They don’t comment on these indiscretions as they are obviously looking for more important items.
As I hang around in my cell, I am amused to see the grass outside is littered with different objects that have been thrown out of the windows since the shout of ‘Burglars’ went up. Apparently it’s mainly drugs and other banned substances, but despite a further search amongst the rubbish, no other knives or blades are discovered.
When the ‘spin’ is over, I’m told that Nigel, (GBH, race relations rep, known as the Preacher - see plate section), has had a carpet removed from his cell, and Darren, two pots of sea-green paint. An officer confirms that no other knives were found on our spur which surprises Darren, although he won’t tell me why.
The most common object removed from the cells turns out to be TV remote controls. For some inexplicable reason, remote controls are allowed only on D block (the drug-free block). Result? D blockers trade their remotes for drugs. Prison logic.
12 noon
Exercise. After half an hour of power walking in the fresh air, Darren and I return to the block. As he strolls back through the gate, his eyes light on his two pots of sea-green paint standing in the hallway. I’m afraid I can’t resist it. I pick them both up and deposit them back in his cell. He immediately hides them in the dustbin room at the end of the corridor, explaining that should any officer discover they’re missing, the first cell they would search would be his, and he could end up on report. If he hears nothing for twenty-four hours he’ll feel it’s safe to retrieve them. So much happens in prison every day, that it’s not unlike a national newspaper. Yesterday’s big story is quickly replaced by some new incident demanding the staff’s immediate attention. Darren agrees it’s the first time I’ve been able to do something for him.
6.00 pm
I call Will to confirm that he’s still planning to visit me on Friday. He tells me that DCS Perry is off sick and his deputy is unwilling to make a decision while he’s away. So much for justice. I begin to think that I’ll be in Wayland for the rest of my life.
DAY 70 - WEDNESDAY 26 SEPTEMBER 2001
9.00 am
Pottery. It’s Anne’s birthday. She’s amused by my flowerpot (we’ve all agreed now that it is to be thought of as a flowerpot) and says that it must be left to dry for two weeks before it can be placed in the kiln.
Another of the tutors has brought in a box of crayons for Shaun. When I leave the art room an hour later, I place the crayons in a plastic bag which, to my surprise, the officers don’t bother to look inside. I then walk out onto the exercise yard and, in front of several other officers, stroll across to the window of Shaun’s cell on C block and pass the crayons through the bars, dropping them on his bed. Only yesterday we were all searched for a knife. Today… prison logic. I admit I’m only smuggling crayons, but you would have thought someone might have just checked.
2.00 pm
No gym because it’s rugby practice. Mr Harley has selected a team of possibles v probables for the first match next week, which he asks me to referee.
The standard turns out to be far higher than I had expected. An Afro-Caribbean inmate picks up a ball that is passed to his toes at full speed and carves his way through a bunch of thugs and murderers to score a brilliant try under the posts. It augers well for next week.
When we return to the changing room the young man tells me that he’s never played the game before. How much talent is there in this country that we just don’t find out about, let alone nurture?
Another prisoner standing next to me in the shower is six foot nine, and was one of the second row forwards (surprise, surprise). He’s more interested in talking about my trial, which he describes as a diabolical liberty. As I never discuss my case with other inmates, I only listen.
‘I also got four years,’ he said, ‘for burglary - with five hundred and two, yeah, five hundred and two,’ he repeats, ‘other offences to be taken into consideration.’
DAY 71 - THURSDAY 27 SEPTEMBER 2001
8.00 am
Sergio will be leaving for Heathrow within the hour. We agree that I will call him next Tuesday at 7 pm GMT, two o’clock in Bogota. He tells me that there is at least PS7 left on his BT phonecard, which ought to be enough for him to let me know that he has arrived safely and put in my offer for the Boteros. Could I really get The Card Players for $400,000?
9.00 am
Pottery. Shaun spends two hours, with two ten-minute breaks, drawing Jules’s body - in a crouching position, and wearing his grey prison tracksuit. This is his best effort yet. He’ll add the head next week. He now has only Steve (conspiracy to murder, library orderly) and Jimmy (Ecstasy and captain of everything) left to draw. However, as Steve rarely leaves the library, Jimmy is out all day working on the farm and Shaun is due to be released in four weeks’ time, this may prove a close-run thing. I will not see the final montage until Shaun has presented his portfolio to my literary agent, Jonathan Lloyd.
3.30 pm
Exercise. As we circumnavigate the yard, Darren tells me about a prisoner who was transferred to Littlehey early this morning; the governor considered that his life might be in danger if he remained at Wayland. He had already been shipped out of Blunderstone Prison earlier this month when it was discovered that he was being beaten up on a regular basis.
