Heaven

DAY 202 TUESDAY 5 FEBRUARY 2002

7.00 am

I put my pen down after a couple of hours of writing to switch on the Today programme. Britain is in the middle of a rail strike. There’s no station at North Sea Camp.

9.00 am

Two of the inmates who attended last night’s drugs counselling meeting are up on a ‘nicking’. Once the doctor has pronounced them fit, they will attend an adjudication chaired by Governor Leighton. One of them tested positive for cannabis on his latest MDT, and adds ruefully that he expects to be shipped out to a B-cat prison later today. Now I know why he hardly spoke at yesterday’s meeting. He also looks as if he didn’t sleep last night.

1.00 pm

The newspapers are full of stories about David Blunkett’s proposed prison reforms, which seem no more than common sense. Anyone with a non-custodial sentence for a non-violent first offence will be placed on immediate tagging, with weekend custody, and possibly having to report to a police station every evening. For lesser offences, they would be tagged immediately, with a curfew of 7 pm to 7 am. A second offence and they would be sent to prison.

As of 1 February, the prison population stood at 67,978 and the prediction is that already overcrowded prisons will be under additional pressure following Lord Chief Justice Woolf’s recent pronouncement on mobile phone muggers.

4.00 pm

Three more manuscripts arrive in the post today with letters asking if I could critique them. Four publishers have turned one down; another says his wife, who is his sternest critic, thinks it’s first class, and the final one seeks my advice on vanity publishers. [21]

4.20 pm

One of today’s inductees is a Mr T. Blair. He has been sentenced to six months for disturbing the peace, but with remission and tagging, expects to be released after only eight weeks. The other Mr T. Blair looks set to serve at least eight years.

4.37 pm

I still marvel at what prisoners will have the nerve to ask sister for. Today, one inmate has demanded a bottle of aftershave because he has a skin problem. I’m about to burst out laughing, when Linda hands him a bottle and he leaves without another word.

‘Why can’t he buy one in the canteen?’ I ask.

‘You can’t buy aftershave in the canteen,’ Linda reminds me, ‘it contains alcohol, and several inmates would happily drink it.’

‘But you’ve just given…’

‘Non-alcoholic aftershave supplied especially for prison hospitals. On your day of release,’ Linda reminds me, ‘any prisoner can demand a free needle to inject himself with heroin, as well as a packet of condoms.’