Jeffrey Archer - Heaven: A Prison Diary Volume 3

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Table of Contents

NOVELS

Not a Penny More, Not a Penny Less
Shall We Tell the President?
Kane and Abel
The Prodigal Daughter
First Among Equals
A Matter of Honour
As the Crow Flies
Honour Among Thieves
The Fourth Estate
The Eleventh Commandment
Sons of Fortune

SHORT STORIES

A Quiver Full of Arrows
A Twist in the Tale
Twelve Red Herrings
The Collected Short Stories
To Cut a Long Story Short

PLAYS

Beyond Reasonable Doubt
Exclusive
The Accused

PRISON DIARIES

Volume One Belmarsh: Hell
Volume Two Wayland: Purgatory

For the past fourteen months, I have been writing two thousand words a day, nearly a million in all, which has resulted in three published diaries.

Although Hollesley Bay turned out to be quite different from North Sea Camp, it was not dissimilar enough to warrant a fourth diary. However, there is one significant difference worthy of mention. Hollesley Bay is an open prison, not a resettlement establishment. It was clearly selected to ensure that I couldnt work outside. After I had completed my induction, the director of Genesis, a Mencap project in Ipswich, offered me a job. His request was rejected by Mr Jones, the prison governor, despite there being three other inmates working at Genesis at that time. I appealed to the Prison Ombudsman about this blatant discrimination, but he said he didnt have the authority to reverse the governors decision.

I reluctantly settled for the position of library orderly, with a remit from Mr Jones to get more prisoners reading. Thirty-two books were taken out in my first week as library orderly, one hundred and ninety one in my last, eight months later.

However, as the library was only open to prisoners between 12.30 and 1.30, and 6 and 7 pm, I was left with countless hours to occupy myself. It doesnt take that long to replace on theshelves the twenty or thirty books returned each day. I could have occupied those lifeless hours writing a fourth diary, but as I have explained, I felt it would have achieved little.

During those first few months of incarceration at Hollesley Bay, I edited A Prison Diary Volume Two Wayland: Purgatory, and had it smuggled out on a weekly basis by a prisoner who was working in Ipswich. But even that demanding exercise did not fully occupy my time.

My next venture was to write nine short stories based on tales that I had picked up from all four prisons. This collection will be published in 2005 under the title Cat of Nine Tales. Unfortunately, even this endeavour, with its several rewrites, only occupied me through to Christmas, leaving me another six months to kill before I was due to be released.

It was the death of an old friend that spurred me into action, and once again gave my life some purpose

A few months before my trial began, I had lunch at Mosimanns with Chris Brasher and a mutual friend, John Bryant. The purpose of the lunch, and Chris always had a purpose, was first to persuade me that I should run in the London marathon and attempt to break the world record for the amount raised for charity by an individual in this event (1,166,212) and second, that I should write my first screenplay.

While the marathon was postponed by events, I suddenly found myself with time on my hands to write a screenplay. Chris Brasher also knew the subject he wanted me to tackle, and proceeded to tell me the story of George Mallory, an Englishman who in 1924, climbed to within 800 feet of the summit of Everest, dressed in a three-piece tweed suit, with a coiled rope over one shoulder, a fifty-five-pound pack on his back, and carrying an ice axe in one hand and a rolled umbrella in the other.

At 12.50 pm on 17 July 1924 (Ascension Day), he and his young companion Sandy Irvine were enveloped in clouds and never seen again.

Was Mallory the first man to conquer Everest?

It was the untimely death of Chris Brasher that bought the memory of that lunch flooding back.

I resolved to put into action his second suggestion.

MONDAY 21 JULY 2003

5.09 am

I had a good nights sleep and rose early to take a shower. I pack my bags, so that no time will be wasted once the tannoy calls me across to reception.

I am touched by how many prisoners come to my room this morning, to shake me by the hand and wish me luck. However, it is not true, as one tabloid suggested, that I was given a guard of honour as I left the prison.

7.00 am

My last prison breakfast cornflakes and milk. I cant help looking at my watch every few minutes.

8.09 am

I am called to reception where no surprise there is a new bundle of forms to be signed before I can be released.

At last, my release papers are completed by Mr Swivenbank, and he doesnt try to hide a grin as he hands over my regulation 40. I place the notes in the charity box on the counter, shakehands with both officers and depart, with the seventh draft of a screenplay, tucked under my arm, and in my pocket a CD of a song that was performed by The Seven Deadly Sins at my farewell party last night. (See overleaf.)

Will is sitting in my car parked outside the back door, waiting for me. He drives us slowly through the phalanx of journalists who litter both sides of the road. Just as we accelerate away and I think weve escaped them, we spot a Sky TV news helicopter hovering above us, as well as three motorbikes with cameramen glued to the back seats, and another five cars behind them, in close pursuit. Will never once exceeded the speed limit on the journey home to Cambridge.

On arrival back at the Old Vicarage, Mary dashes out to greet me, and I make a short press statement:

Press Release: Embargoed until midnight, Sunday 20 July 2003

Statement by Jeffrey Archer

I want to thank my wife Mary and my sons, William and James, for their unwavering and unstinting support during this unhappy period in my life.

I should also like to thank the many friends who took the trouble to visit me in prison, as well as countless members of the public who sent letters, cards and gifts.

I shall not be giving any interviews for the foreseeable future. However, I have accepted an invitation to address the Howard League for Penal Reforms conference at New College Oxford in September, and several requests to do charity auctions in the run up to Christmas.

JEFFREY

(to the tune of Daniel by Elton John)

Jeffrey is leaving today down the lane
I can see the paparazzi, flashing away in vain;
Oh, and I can see Jeffrey waving goodbye;
God, it looks like Jeffrey might have a teardrop in his eye.

Oh, ooh, Jeffrey our brother, bet youre glad to be free;
Now you can tell the world what you think of Narey.
You did time well, its now your time to tell;
Jeffrey, youre a star, go on, son, give em hell.

I have not given an interview to the press, or appeared on radio or television, since.

During the last year, I have addressed a dozen or so organizations since speaking to the Howard League, including the Disraelian Society, Trinity College Oxford, the Thirty Club, the Hawks club and the Criminal Law Solicitors Association.

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