Reads Novel Online

Heaven (A Prison Diary 3)

Page 102

« Prev  Chapter  Next »



4.00 pm

Mr Beaumont sent a circular to all the officers at NSC a few days before he arrived which I obtained recently. It gives you a flavour of the man. (See opposite.) I can’t believe his secretary ever checked the piece for grammatical mistakes. Even an eleven-year-old would have spotted the error in the last line. I can’t wait to meet him.

DAY 238

WEDNESDAY 13 MARCH 2002

7.22 am

Gail rushes in, slightly flushed. She’s been door-stepped by a woman from the News of the World who has discovered (from an inmate) that she’s leaving NSC to take up another post. The journalist is looking for stories and asked, ‘Are you leaving because of Archer?’

Gail replied that I am working as a hospital orderly, and that I take the job very seriously, am popular with both the officers and the other prisoners and am learning about drugs and their relevance in prison. Gail innocently asked how much they would pay for a story, to which the journalist replied a couple of thousand pounds – more if it was a big story that would show Archer in a bad light.

10.11 am

I am called in for a voluntary drugs test. You can refuse, but should you do so your privileges – town visits, canteen cash and weekend leave – are likely to be rescinded. I discover that two prisoners have come up positive, one for amphetamines, the other for cannabis.

By the end of the morning, that number had risen to five; all will appear in front of the governor for adjudication tomorrow.

12 noon

An officer comes into the hospital and tells me that he once worked on the sex offenders’ unit at Whitemoor Prison and he could tell me enough stories to fill another volume.

‘Give me an example,’ I ask, topping up his coffee.

He pauses for a moment. ‘We once had a young prisoner on B block who used to keep a budgerigar in his cell, and the little bird became the most important thing in his life. Another prisoner living on the same wing, sensing the lad’s vulnerability, threatened to kill the budgie unless he gave him a blow job. The prisoner reluctantly agreed. Within days, the first prisoner had become a prostitute, and the second his pimp. The pimp would charge two phonecards for the prisoner to give a blow job and three to be buggered. The pimp ended up making a hundred pounds a week, and the budgie survived. That was until an inmate grassed on him in the hope that the pimp would be transferred to another prison and he could take over his lucrative position. Both prisoners were moved to separate establishments the following day.

That morning the budgie was strangled.’

DAY 247

FRIDAY 22 MARCH 2002

Governor Berlyn comes to the hospital this morning and tells me that despite his efforts, I will not be allowed to accompany Mark Le Sage whenever he addesses school on the problem of drugs. The governor of HMP Stocken has told Mr Le Sage that he will not permit such excursions even if an NSC security officer accompa

nies me.

The nation is currently in the grip of a massive drug epidemic, with children of twelve being offered heroin in our playgrounds. As part of my rehabilitation, I have volunteered to visit schools in the Lincolnshire area and talk to them about the problem. To date I have had assistance from the local police drug squad, the Lincolnshire education authority and the medical team at NSC, lead by Dr Walling. So I can only wonder why the governor of Stocken would want to stop such a worthwhile project.

Perhaps the Home Office knows the answer?

DAY 249

SUNDAY 24 MARCH 2002

4.00 pm

It’s been a week for visitors: last Sunday, Henry Togna and David Watson, Monday, Gilly Gray QC, Wednesday, Lords Hayhoe and Denham – Bertie, my old Chief Whip.

So now I’m up to date on the Lords reform bill, foxhunting and the state of Margaret Thatcher’s health. Not to mention the euro, and when the planned referendum might or might not be.

I put an idea to Bertie on the Lords reform bill, when to my horror he withdrew from an inside pocket, a small memo recorder. I glance over to the desk to see the duty officers chatting to each other. I was relieved when Bertie put the recorder back in his pocket. We don’t need another member of the House of Lords as a resident of North Sea Camp.

DAY 250

MONDAY 25 MARCH 2002

10.00 am



« Prev  Chapter  Next »