Dr Amanda Brown - The Prison Doctor: Women Inside

DR AMANDA BROWN is a GP at the largest women-only prison in Europe, Bronzefield. She was a regular NHS GP for a number of years, until she gave up her practice to move into the prison service. She worked at a teenage detention centre, before moving on to Wormwood Scrubs and then finally to Bronzefield where she continues to practise to this day.

The Prison Doctor

Stories from my time inside Britains biggest womens prison

Dr Amanda Brown
with Georgina Rodgers

ONE PLACE. MANY STORIES

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2020

Copyright Dr Amanda Brown 2020

Dr Amanda Brown asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

This is a work of non-fiction, based on real events. Names and identifying characteristics and details have been changed to protect the identity and privacy of individuals.

This book deals with sexual assault, substance abuse and other difficult topics. The author has taken great lengths to ensure the subject matter is dealt with in a compassionate and respectful way, but it may be troubling for some readers. Discretion is advised.

Ebook Edition June 2020 ISBN: 9780008386924

Version 2020-06-09

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In loving memory always of my beloved
mother and father, and of their unconditional
love and the values they instilled in me.

But there is that within me which will tire
torture and time, and breathe when I expire.

LORD BYRON

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and
rightdoing, there is a field. Ill meet you there.

RUMI

This book is dedicated to all the abused and
homeless women I have met at Bronzefield,
and to so many other fascinating people who
have been kind enough to share their stories
with me, with gratitude, love and respect.

Ive got no one and nothing, not even my own teeth

M URDER

The word sprung out at me from the smudged screen of the computer and my heart sank. I was in my small and windowless consulting room in Bronzefield prison. I was halfway through an evening Reception shift, meeting new prisoners to assess and discuss their medical issues and prescribe any medication they might need. I was only two hours into my shift but was already feeling weary. Despite having met many prisoners who had committed murder, the impact of the word always caused the same reaction in me: shock, horror, and a deep sadness.

I scrolled up the screen to read the nurses entry.

Rebecca was 27 years old and it was her first time in prison. That in itself was a surprise. I have seen so many prisoners return time and time again, that when I meet someone who has never been inside before, its unusual.

Many of the residents lives are so chaotic, complex and traumatic, that for some of them prison is a refuge. A shelter for the homeless and often a place to get help with addictions. The women return for a variety of crimes, such as shoplifting, theft, robbery, burglary, fraud, arson, kidnap, GBH or ABH.

Rarely murder.

When I reached the holding cell, I saw the door was open and there were five women in there. Two were lying down on the stark blue plastic bench seating, looking extremely unwell, most probably because they were withdrawing from drugs. One was pale and sweaty, her hair sticking to her forehead and her eyes shut, as she tried to ride it out. The other was clutching her stomach, groaning miserably not an unfamiliar sound to me. An overweight woman in a wheelchair stared blankly ahead of her. The other two sat quietly, and appeared to be shaken and fearful.

Rebecca? I asked as I looked around the room.

A girls eyes peered out from her curtain of long, deep brown hair like a cornered animal. She looked much younger than her age, with delicate features, a spray of freckles and intense eyes. She was wearing a knee-length skirt with tights and pale pink pumps, which were splattered with something dark, as was her pale grey top. I tried not to show the shock and surprise I felt, as I realised it was blood. She must have come straight to prison from the scene of the crime.

I led her back along the mottled-blue lino floor of the corridor to my room.

Hi, Rebecca. Im Doctor Brown. Come and have a seat. I gestured to the hard and battered plastic chair. I just have to go through some routine questions to make sure you are okay and see if you need any medication, I told her. Alright?

She didnt reply.

I started to go through her notes. She looked shocked to her core. Her hands were trembling, and she fiddled with her cuffs, pulling them over her hands. I noticed that they were also stained dark and dirty with dried blood. I could smell it.

Metallic. Slightly sweet.

Rebeccas eyes looked glazed and vacant; the look of someone who could not believe where she was or what was happening to her.

I can see here that you are charged with murder, I said. Can you tell me what happened?

I killed my partner. Her voice was clear but started to crack as she said the word partner.

I could see she was trying hard to stop the tears, which were pricking the corners of her eyes, from falling. She swallowed hard.

I stabbed him. She looked up at me through her fringe. I just couldnt take it any more. I couldnt see a way out. The years of being controlled. She grimaced, and her voice became more defiant. I was his punch bag. I just couldnt do it any more.

I was already fairly sure what she was going to say, having heard it so many times in Bronzefield before.

She rolled into her story, the floodgates opening. Sitting in front of me was a criminal, charged with the most serious of crimes, but she was just a normal person. She was well spoken, intelligent and articulate. She reminded me a little of the girl who cuts my hair.

Rebecca met her partner when she was 15 and he was 21. For a while, she said, they were just friends. When she was 17, he persuaded her that they would be better as a couple than as friends.