Free Purgatory: A Prison Diary Volume 2 by Jeffrey Archer

complains that
John Humphrys broke the BBC’s agreement and once the piece was over she told
him so. What does he care? She then tells me that the CEO of the Red Cross, Sir
Nicholas Young, was interviewed later, and was uncompromising when it came to
any suggestion that one penny raised for the Kurds in the UK had not been
accounted for. He went on to point out that I had nothing to do with either the
collecting or distribution of any monies. I suggest to Mary that perhaps the
time has come to sue Baroness Nicholson. Mary tells me that the lawyer’s first
priority is to have my D-cat reinstated so I can be moved to an open prison
before we issue the writ. Good thinking.
    ‘Don’t waste any more of your units’ she says. ‘See you
tomorrow.’
9.50 am
    Disaster. Darren reappears with my
washing. All fresh and clean, but the dryer has broken down for the first time
in living memory. I take the wet clothes back to my cell and hang the T-shirts
on the end of the bed, my underwear from an open cupboard door and my socks
over the single chair. The sun is shining, but not many of its rays are
reaching through the bars and into my cell.
10.00 am
    Today is the first day of the fourth test match against
Australia, and Hussain is back as captain. He said that although we’ve lost the
Ashes (3-0), English pride is now at stake. I write for an hour and then turn
on the television at eleven to see who won the toss. It’s been raining all
morning. Of course it has; the match is at Headingley (Leeds). I switch off the
television and return to my script.
11.40 am
    I’ve been writing for over an hour when the cell door is
unlocked. The governor would like a word. I go to the interview room and find
Mr Cariton-Boyce and Mr Tinkler waiting for me.
    Mr Cariton-Boyce looks embarrassed when he tries to explain
why I can’t have any writing pads and pens or Alan Clark’s Diaries. I make a
small protest but only so it’s on the record. He then goes on to tell me that I
will not be moving to C block after all. They’ve had a re-think, and I’ll be
joining the adults on the enhanced spur, but – and there is always a but in
prison – as no one is being released until 29 August, I’ll have to stay put
until then.
    I thank him, and ask if my room-mate Jules can be moved to a
single cell, as I fear it can’t be too long before the News of the World will
do to him exactly what they’ve done to every other prisoner who has shared a
cell with me. This shy, thoughtful man will end up being described as a drug
baron, and he doesn’t have any way of fighting back.
    Governor CarltonrBoyce nods. Promises are never made in
prison, but he does go as far as saying,’ The next thing on my agenda is cell
dispersal, because we have eight more prisoners coming in tomorrow.’ I thank
him and leave, aware that’s about the biggest hint I’ll get.
12 noon
    Lunch. Dale passes me two little
sealed boxes, rather than the usual single portion, and winks. I was down on
today’s menu for number three – vegetable stew – but when I get back to my
cell, I discover the other box contains mushroom soup. So I linger over the
soup followed by vegetable stew. It’s not Le Caprice – but it’s not Belmarsh
either.
1.15 pm
    I’m told that as part of my induction I must report to the
education department and take a reading, writing and numeracy test. When I take
my seat in the classroom and study the forms, it turns out to be exactly the
same test as the one set at Belmarsh. Should I tell them that I took the papers
only two weeks ago, or should I just get on with it? I can see the headline in
the Mirror: Archer Refuses to Take Writing Test. It would be funny if it wasn’t
exactly what the Mirror would do. I get on with it.
3.15 pm
    Gym. It’s circuit-training day, and I manage about half of the set programme – known as
the dirty dozen. The youngsters are good, but the star turns out to be a
forty-five-year-old gypsy, who is covered in tattoos, and