Celebrity Prisoner

17 Feb

Less than a week inside and I’m hobnobbing with a Lord. Lord Taylor of Warwick, the former Tory poster boy, here as a result of the expenses scandal. I’ve gone a whole lifetime with never meeting aristocracy and I’ve been a convict for days, then BOOM! 🙂

Nice bloke actually. I knew he was here from following the news but wasn’t sure what to expect. Anthony points him out, he’s shorter than I thought that’s my first impression.

The peer cuts a forlorn figure and often seems without chatter – he looks lonely. I’m close to completing a book trailing the life of a junior Barrister, its funny if not insightful. The Lord is a retired Barrister so I endeavour to slide it under his door when I’m done later.

I had spoken to him previously about his hopes for the future and the work he wants to do promoting the needs for reform within the prison system. Prison hasn’t destroyed him as a man, even if he does look a little shabby without his ermin robes.

The activities clerk comes by to update my cell door, we make time for small talk about our own offences, he lets me know I should soon get a visit from a Work Party Supervisor, he heads back afterwards. I turn to walk into my cell. I’m struck by something he said. He’s on remand, he’s pleading not guilty. Odd.

Another exercise yard session, I’m feeling more comfortable in the ‘Playground of the damned’. It’s nice to get my heart and lungs working. Funny what we take for granted on the outside. The opportunity to walk in a moderately sized circle surrounded by barbed wire and misery, is a pleasure today.

Ian has had the induction visit I was denied; a little inconsistent perhaps. He has another next week, that would be nice. But a visit would remind me of who I can’t see, I’d imagine that’s where the fun ends. I’m fortunate I’m good in my own company, I always have oodles of ideas pinging around my brain and can while away hours locked inside my own thoughts. Good job I got a lot of time for it then!

Flan is the feature choice for dinner. Flan always struck me as ‘Sad Pizza’. I bypass it and eat beef sausages. Wandsworth got in a little trouble a while back serving pork sausages to Muslims as a Halal alternative. There’d been a mix up apparently, that or a pretty bad practical joke. A little offensive.

Pen Writing

I’ve never used a pen so much, my first is nearing it’s finish. I’ve actually managed to use an entire biro without losing it, or it stopping mysteriously with half the ink still in it. I’ve never understand that with a biro. How much wasted ink is there in the world – definitely a topic for a drunk conversation.

And there you have it, 3 lines of my diary dedicated to pen use.

I see a rat in the yard, I think it’s worth a mention, they have an infestation here.

Writing to R, I ask her if she can read my writing, I tell her I’m yet to get her letters and I have a new grey tracksuit this morning from kit change. The mundane musings of a man slung away!

I’ve been somewhat tragically glued to the tv series ‘Glee’. It’s possibly not something many men care to announce, I watched it with my cell door open, feigning cool, the reality is I’m an addict of feel good tv.

Weekend’s drag in prison, low staffing numbers mean no activity on the wing, there is just the sound of men facing the demons of their first weekend in prison, cold turkey.


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