Heaven

DAY 157 SATURDAY 22 DECEMBER 2001

9.00 am

Prison life is like a game of cricket; every day you discover a new way of getting out.

The doctor has to pass as fit this morning an inmate by the name of Hal (cat burglar, six months) before he goes up in front of the governor. Last night Hal left the prison and walked into Boston. He dropped into one of the local pubs, had a pint and then purchased a bottle of vodka, a bottle of rum and a six-pack of Fosters. Hal didn’t feel like walking the six miles back, so he decided to thumb a lift to the prison. Mr Blackman, one of our younger officers, obliged and happily escorted Hal back, confiscated the contraband and booked him into the segregation block. Hal was due to be released in January, but I fear it’s now looking more like February. It turns out that he also suggested to Mr Blackman that if he dropped him off half a mile from the prison, he could keep the bounty. Nice try, Hal.

Among the other inmates who will appear in front of the governor this morning is Simon (abducting his son), but only for a warning. It appears he’s been telling anyone who will listen that his cell-mate is ‘a raving faggot’. The governor will order him to stop using such inflammatory language otherwise he will lose his job as mess orderly.

I chat to the cat burglar as he waits to see the doctor. Hal says he doesn’t care that much what the governor decides. His partner has left him, his mother won’t speak to him and he hasn’t seen his father in years. When he gets out, he doesn’t have anywhere to stay overnight, and only has £37 to his name. He says he needs a job that will earn him enough money to ensure that he doesn’t have to revert to stealing again.

I ask him, ‘How much is enough?’

‘Two hundred quid,’ he replies. ‘Then I’d have a chance of finding some digs and getting a job.’

11.00 am

Mr Lewis drops into the hospital to wish Linda a happy Christmas. While I’m making him a coffee, he complains that I’ve thrown away the hospital ashtray, so he can’t enjoy a cigar. I reluctantly supply an old saucer. He tells me that he was surprised by the Spring Hill decision and, looking round the hospital, says pointedly, ‘If they suggest Hollesley Bay, don’t even consider it.’

2.50 pm

Mary and William turn up almost an hour late for their visit because of the snow and ice that caused long hold-ups on the A1. My time with them is cut down to forty minutes.

It’s Mary’s birthday, and she’s wearing the emerald that Sergio purchased for me from the Green Mountains after he returned to Columbia. [14] I wanted to also give her the pot I made at Wayland, but they told me it shattered in the kiln.

We chat about her forthcoming trip to Kenya for her nephew’s wedding. She’ll be away for the first ten days of January, but as my appeal won’t be heard until mid-February, this isn’t a problem. She hopes to see Sir Sidney Kentridge and Godfrey Barker before she leaves. If Godfrey signs an affidavit confirming that Mr Justice Potts discussed me adversely at a dinner party they both attended a year before my arrest, I could be out of here in a few weeks’ time. Will isn’t optimistic. He feels Godfrey will feel compromised because his wife works for the parole board. As Godfrey has sent me a Christmas card, I can only hope Will’s wrong.

Surely justice and truth matter to such a man. We shall soon find out.