Welding
Motor mechanics
Light vehicle body repair
Industrial cleaning
Computer application
The weekly pay for any one of these courses is also PS7.35, but does give you a basic train
ing for when you return to the outside world.
When the final slide comes up, most of the inmates begin licking their collective lips, because this offers not only real earning power, but a position of responsibility plus perks. The extra money guarantees a more substantial canteen list each week (extra tobacco) and even the opportunity to save something for when you are released. The slide reveals:
Plastic recycling PS10.15 per week
Ration packing PS9.35
Gardening (one of the most sought-after jobs, with a long waiting list) PS9.00
General cleaner PS6.70
Works PS8.50
Kitchen PS8.50
Stores (very popular, longer waiting list than the MCC) PS10.00
Chapel PS8.00
Drug rehabilitation unit PS6.70
Before she can turn back to face her audience, the questions come thick and fast. Wendy points out that most of these jobs already have waiting lists, even washing-up, as there are far more prisoners than jobs. Wendy handles the questions sympathetically, without giving anyone false hopes of being offered one of these more remunerative positions.
Her final task is to hand round more forms to be filled in. My fellow inmates grab them, and then take some time considering their options. I put a cross next to ‘pottery’ in the education box, but add that I would be happy to do a creative writing course, or teach other prisoners to read and write. Wendy has already pointed out that the education department is understaffed. However, she tells me that such an initiative would require the governor’s approval, and she’ll get back to me. I return to my cell.
11.00 am
I report to the gym to assist with the special needs group. They are about thirty in number, and I’ve been put in charge of four of them: Alex, Robbie, Les and Paul. Three head straight for the rowing machines, while Alex places himself firmly on the treadmill. He sets off at one mile an hour and, with coaxing and patience (something I don’t have in abundance), he manages two miles an hour. I have rarely seen such delight on a competitor’s face. This, for Alex, is his Olympic gold medal. I then suggest he moves on to the step machine while I try to tempt Paul off the rower and onto the running machine. I have to give him several demonstrations as to how it works before he’ll even venture on, and when he finally does, we start him off at half a mile an hour. By using sign language - hands waving up and down - we increase his speed to one mile an hour, I next try to show him how to use the plus and minus buttons. He conquers this new skill by the time he’s walked half a mile. While I teach him how to operate the machine, he teaches me to be patient. By the time he’s done a mile, Paul has mastered the technique completely, and feels like a king. I feel pretty good too.
I look around the room and observe the other prisoners - murderers, drug barons, armed robbers and burglars, gaining just as much from the experience as their charges.
Our final session brings all the group together in the gym where we play a game that’s a cross between cricket and football, called catchball. A plastic ball is bowled slowly along the ground to a child (I must remember that though they think like children, they are not), who kicks it in the air, and then takes a run. If they are caught, they’re out, and someone else takes their place. One of the players, Robbie, catches almost everything, whether it flies above his head, at his feet, or straight at him. This is always greeted with yelps of delight.
By eleven thirty, we’re all exhausted. The group are then ushered out of a especial door at the side of the gym. The boys shake hands and the girls cuddle their favourite prisoner. Carl, a handsome West Indian, gets more cuddles than any of us (they see no colour, only kindness). As they leave to go home, they enquire how long you will be there, and thus I discover why prisoners with longer sentences are selected for this particular responsibility. I make a bold attempt to escape with the group, who all laugh and point at me. When we reach the waiting bus, Mr Maiden finally calls me back.
12 noon
Lunch. I can’t remember what I’ve just eaten because I’m glued to the morning papers. Mary is given rave reviews right across the board - dozens of column inches praising the way she handled John Humphrys.
Lord Longford’s reported dying words, ‘Free Jeffrey Archer’, get a mention in almost every column. I didn’t know Frank Longford well, but enjoyed his wife’s reply to Roy Plomley on Desert Island Discs:
Plomley: ‘Lady Longford, have you ever considered divorce?’
Lady Longford: ‘No, never. Murder several times, but divorce, never.’
I have a feeling Mary would have given roughly the same reply.