Free Prisonomics by Vicky Pryce

summer.
    At times there would be weddings or christenings and the bells that rang frequently to the annoyance of anyone trying to take a nap would ring even more joyfully. And that would seriously excite most of the residents, who would all come out and stand as close they could without being intrusive and look and admire the bridesmaids, groom and guests who were walking around the church in full view of us before the ceremony. Lovely bride, they would say, lovely beautiful bridesmaids – and their eyes would water.
    The church was so close that there was an ‘out of bounds’ sign serving as a warning that we were normally not allowed to go the extra 3 feet and through the little gate into the cemetery and then the church. These ‘out of bounds’ notices were, I understood, put up relatively recently after a resident had been told off for going ‘out’ and then successfully argued that as she hadn’t been there long enough she had not learned yet what was ‘in’ and what was ‘out’. For me those discreet signs were very useful as you had to be licensed or have permission normally to leave the area within the confined grounds of the prison – though some of the girls who were already past their FLED were allowed to go to church with the chaplain at Christmas and Easter. I wouldn’t reach my date until I was discharged on Home Detention Curfew (HDC) so I would have to make my own way independently if I wanted to visit it. I vouched I would. But in the meantime the lovely grey church was so close to us I could just about touch it with my arms outstretched.
    The officers assured me that they would try and get rid of the photographers but it was best that I not go out that way. We decided to stick with the inductions that were either in the house or those that could be accessed from the back door such as the health centre, the drugs rehabilitation unit, probation and the governor’s office. Education would have to wait as it required walking across the pathway and up some stairs into the garden, which was perfectly visible from the church wall. I was concerned that I was creating extra work for everyone but most were hugely excited by all this attention. There was an announcement for the girls to be mindful of the fact that if they were in rooms on the side of the house overlooking the garden and the cemetery they should watch what they were doing and how they were dressed as they stood by their windows as the photographers were likely to have long lenses that they would use to take pictures. That caused huge hilarity and a lot of excitable discussions. They would often update me on the photographers’ status as they kept watch from their rooms. The officers behaved impeccably, their main interest being to protect me from unwanted publicity, which was my right, so I followed their advice and avoided that day’s induction. A number of the girls walked up to the photographers, asked them what they were waiting for and then told them that I wasn’t there at all but was instead in Askham Grange in York. Since they hadn’t seen me and there hadn’t been any confirmation of my transfer by the prison service some of them believed the girls and went off to check with their papers. But they soon returned. Given that we were enjoying one of the coldest winters in living memory I hoped that at least they were being paidenough to make hanging around a bitterly windy and sleety cemetery worthwhile and we fully expected that those poor chaps – it seems they were mainly male – would soon disappear in search of somewhere warmer to shelter.
    And indeed they did – there was no sign of them in the following few hours so we assumed they had gone for good. But it was then that I realised that the room I was put in when I arrived looked onto the internal courtyard. The windows were covered with that semi-white stuck-on covering, of the type people have in their houses when their front room is overlooking a busy street. This