Archer - Heaven: a prison diary. Volume 3

Heaven

A Prison Diary

Volume 3

Jeffrey Archer

2006

The signpostannounces North Sea Camp, one mile. As we approach the entrance to the prison,the first thing that strikes me is that there are no electric gates, no highwalls and no razor wire.

I am released frommy sweat box and walk into reception, where I am greeted by an officer. Mr Daffhas a jolly smile and a military air. He promises that after Wayland, this willbe more like Butlins. In fact, he adds, theres a Butlins just up the roadin Skegness. The only difference is , theyve got awall around them.

Here, Mr Daffexplains, the walls are replaced by roll-calls 7.30 am, 11.45 am, 3.30 pm,8.15 pm and 10.00 pm, when I must present myself to the spur office: a wholenew regime to become accustomed to.

While Mr Daffcompletes the paperwork, I unpack my HMP plastic bags. He barks that I willonly be allowed to wear prison garb, so all my T-shirts are taken away andplaced in a possessions box marked ARCHER FF8282.

Dean, a prisonorderly helps me. Once all my belongings have been checked, he escorts me to myroom please note, room, not cell.

At NSC,prisoners have their own key, and there are no bars on the windows. So far so good.

However, Imback to sharing with another prisoner. My room-mate is David. He doesnt turnthe music down when I walk in, and a rolled-up cigarette doesnt leave hismouth.

As I make mybed, David tells me that hes a lifer, whose original tariff was fifteen years.

So far, hesserved twenty-one because hes still considered a risk to the public, despitebeing in a D-cat prison. His original crime was murder an attack on a waiterwho leered at his wife.

Dean (receptionorderly) informs me that Mr Berlyn, one of the governors, wants to see me. Heaccompanies me to the governors Portakabin, where I am once again welcomedwith a warm smile. After a preliminary chat, Mr Berlyn says that he plans toplace me in the education department. The governor then talks about the problemof NSCs being an open prison, and how they hope to handle the press. He endsby saying his door is always open to any prisoner should I need any help orassistance.

Dean takes meoff to supper in the canteen.

The food looksfar better than Waylands, and it is served and eaten in a central hall, ratherlike at boarding school.

Write for twohours, and feel exhausted.

When Ivefinished, I walk across to join Doug in the hospital. He seems to have all theup-to-date gossip. Hes obviously going to be invaluable as my deep throat. Wesit and watch the evening news in comfortable chairs. Dean joins us a fewminutes later, despite the fact that he is only hours away from being released.He says that my laundry has already been washed and returned to my room.

I walk back tothe north block and report to the duty officer for roll-call. Mr Hughes wears apeaked cap that resembles Mr Mackays in Porridge,and he enjoys the comparison. He comes across as a fierce sergeant majortype (twenty years in the army) but within moments I discover hes a completesoftie.

The inmateslike and admire him; if he says hell do something, he does it. If he cant, hetells you.

I return to myroom and push myself to write for another hour, despite a smokefilled room andloud music.

Final roll-call. Fifteen minutes later Im in bed and fastasleep, oblivious to Davids smoke and music.

Alsatians wokeme at Belmarsh, at Wayland it was officers jangling keys as they made theirearly morning rounds, but as NSC is only 100 yards from the coastline, its theconstant squawk of seagulls that causes you to open your eyes. Later, muchlater, the muffled grunts of swine are added, as the largest groupof residents at NSC are the pigs living on the 900-acre prison farm. Idrape a pair of black boxer shorts over the light above my head to make sureDavid is not woken while I continue my writing routine.

He doesntstir. At seven-thirty I make my way to the shower room at the end of thecorridor.

Deanaccompanies me to breakfast: porridge from Monday to Friday, and cereal atweekends, he explains. I satisfy myself with a very hard-boiled egg and acouple of slices of burnt toast.

Induction. During the first week at NSC, a prisoner spendshis time finding out how the place works, while the officers try to discover asmuch as possible about the new inmate.

My firstappointment is with Dr Walling, the prison doctor, who asks the usual questionsabout drugs, smoking, drinking, illnesses and allergies. After twenty minutesof prodding, breathing in, being weighed, and having my eyes, ears, teeth andheart checked, Dr Wallings only piece of advice is not to overdo it in thegym.

Try not toforget you are sixty-one, he reminds me.

As I leave the surgery,Doug, the hospital orderly a friend of Darren (Wayland, marijuana only),beckons me into the private ward. Doug is six foot, and about sixteen stone,with a full head of hair just beginning to grey, and I would guess is in hislate forties. The ward has eight beds, one of which is Dougs, as someone hasto be resident at night in case a prisoner is suddenly taken ill. But what ajob; not only does Doug have a room the size of a penthouse suite, but he alsohas his own television, and his own bathroom. He tells me that hes in for taxevasion, but doesnt elaborate. Doug closes the door to his kingdom andconfirms that medical orderly is the best job in the prison. However, heassures me that the second-best position at NSC is orderly at the sentencemanagement unit (SMU). Doug whispers that the SMU job is coming up in just overfour weeks time when the present incumbent, Matthew, will be released. Mr New,the senior officer equivalent to Mr Tinkler at Wayland will make the finaldecision, but Doug will put in a good word for me. Whatever you do, he adds, dont end up working on the farm. Winters not faroff, so if the food doesnt kill you, the farm will.

As I leave, headds, Come and have a drink this evening. (By that he means tea or coffee.)Im allowed two guests from seven to ten, and youd be welcome. I thank himand, silently, my old mentor Darren. Whoyou know is just as important on the inside as it is on the outside.

My secondinduction meeting is to decide what job Ill do while Im at NSC. I make my wayto the sentence management unit, a building that was formerly the governorshouse and is situated just a few yards from the front gate. The pathway leadingup to the entrance is lined with tired red flowers. The light blue front doorcould do with a lick of paint; it looks as if it is regularly kicked openrather than pushed.

The first roomI enter has the feel of a conservatory. It has a dozen wooden chairs, and anotice board covered in information leaflets. Four officers, including a MrGough, who looks like a prep school master, occupy the first room on the groundfloor. As he ticks off my name, Mr Gough announces, in a broad Norfolk accent,that he will be speaking to all the new inductees once everyone has come acrossfrom their medical examination. But as Dr Walling is taking fifteen minuteswith each new prisoner, we may be sitting around for some time. As I waitimpatiently in the conservatory, I become aware how filthy the room is. AtWayland, the floors shone from their daily buffing, and if you stood still formore than a few moments, someone painted you.