A Prison Diary Purgatory (2003) Read online

  ‘God knows,’ says Jimmy, ‘what Malcolm will get up to in a D-cat where the regime is far more relaxed.’

  ‘Is he married?’ I ask.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ Jimmy replies. ‘Happily.’

  1.17 pm

  I am sitting on the end of my bed reading The Times when Darren bursts in without knocking - most unlike him.

  ‘Switch on your TV’ he says without explanation, ‘they’re running it on every channel.’

  Together we watch the horrors unfold in New York. I assume that the first plane must have been involved in some tragic accident, until we both witness a second jet flying into the other tower of the World Trade Center. To begin with, I feel the commentator’s comparison with Pearl Harbor is somewhat exaggerated. But later, when I realize the full extent of the devastation and loss of life, I am less sure. The reporters have already moved on to asking, ‘Who is responsible?’

  Although I am mesmerized by this vile piece of history as it continues to unfold, prison timetables cannot be altered, whatever is taking place in the rest of the world. If I don’t report to the gym by three fifteen, they will come in search of me.

  3.15 pm

  Much of the talk in the gym is of the carnage in New York and its consequences, although several of the prisoners continue their bench presses, oblivious to what’s taking place in the outside world. As soon as the hour is up, I rush back to my cell to find that the Pentagon has been hit by a third domestic carrier, and a fourth commercial plane thought to have been heading for the White House has crashed just outside Pennsylvania.

  430 pm

  For several hours, I sit glued to the television. Among the snippets of news offered between the continual replays of the two planes crashing into the twin towers is a statement by William Hague; he has postponed the announcement of who will be the next leader of the Conservative Party as a mark of respect to the American people.

  The prime minister cancels his speech to the TUC in Brighton and hurries back to Downing Street, where he makes a statement fully supporting President Bush, and describing terrorism as the new world evil.

  7.00 pm

  The sight of innocent people jumping out of those towers and the voices of passengers trapped on a domestic flight talking to their next of kin on mobile phones will be, for me, the enduring memory of this evil day. Calling my agent and my son James was to have been the highlight of my day. It now seems somewhat irrelevant.

  DAY 56 - WEDNESDAY 12 SEPTEMBER 2001

  5.44 am

  Yesterday was dominated by the news from America, and what retaliation George W. Bush might take.

  Tony Blair seized the initiative by calling a press conference at No. 10 for 2 pm, which would be seen by the citizens of New York just as they were waking. I don’t want to appear cynical but, at the end of the press conference, when the prime minister agreed to take questions, did you notice who he selected from a packed audience of journalists? The BBC (Andrew Marr), ITV (John Sergeant), CNN (Robin Oakley), Channel 4 (Eleanor Goodman), The Times (Philip Webster) and the Sun (Trevor Kavanagh). I sense Alastair Campbell’s skills very much in evidence: only the major television companies and two Murdoch newspapers. However, to be fair, by recalling Parliament, Blair looks like the leading statesman in Europe, and that on the day when the Tory party are planning to announce their new leader.

  9.00 am

  Life goes on at Wayland, so I report to the art room for my pottery class. Our clandestine accomplice has successfully smuggled in the special materials that Shaun needs to complete his art work for this volume.

  11.15 am

  I call Alison at the office for an update. She tells me that the pressure has shifted onto KPMG to deliver an interim report, so as not to keep me waiting until they’ve completed the full investigation which apparently now includes some accusations Ms Nicholson has made against the Red Cross which have nothing to do with me. Can’t spare any more units, as I have to speak to James tonight, so I say goodbye.

  2.00 pm

  Football. Wayland’s match against RAF Marham is, to my surprise, still on. Not that I expect there would have been many fighter pilots in the visitors’ team. We lose 4-3, despite Jimmy’s scoring two goals. Three of our team receive red cards, so Wayland ended up with only eight players on the field, having led 3-2 at half-time. By the way, all three players deserved to be sent off. As soon as I return to my cell, I switch on the TV.

  4.00 pm

  Most of the Muslim world are swearing allegiance to America, as they must all be fearful of retaliation. Yasser Arafat even gives blood to prove his solidarity with the citizens of New York. The prime minister continues to underline his support for the United States, as he considers the atrocities in New York to be an attack on the democratic world. I suspect he views this as his Falklands. Let’s hope it’s not his Vietnam.

  6.00 pm

  After supper Sergio convenes a board meeting. Item No. 1, he confirms that the suitcase and contents have been delivered to his friend in north London. Item No. 2. The emerald has arrived in London, with all the correct paperwork completed. Item No. 3. A colleague of his brother’s will be flying into London on Saturday, bringing with him the gold necklace, a catalogue raisonne of Botero and four photos of Botero oils that are for sale. He pauses and waits for my reaction. I smile. It all sounds too good to be true.

  8.00 pm

  All the news programmes are replaying footage from every angle of the American passenger jets flying into the twin towers of the World Trade Center in New York. All the commentators are in no doubt that the US will seek some form of revenge, once they can identify the culprit. Who can blame them? It’s going to take a very big man to oversee this whole operation. President Kennedy proved to be such a man when he was faced with the Cuban crisis. I only hope that George W. Bush is of the same mettle.

  7.00 pm

  I phone James. He tells me that he’s tired; he’s just started his new job in the City. Because of the upheaval in the American market they expect him to be at his desk by 7 am, and he doesn’t leave the office until after 7 pm. However, he confirms over the phone that the emerald has arrived, so out of curiosity I ask him what it looks like.

  ‘It looks magnificient, Dad,’ is his simple reply. ‘But I’ve no idea if it’s worth ten thousand dollars.’

  ‘When are you hoping to see the expert?’

  ‘Sometime this weekend.’

  I don’t ask any more questions as I wish to save my remaining units for Mary.

  Quite a lot seems to be happening this weekend. Mary will visit Wayland on Friday. liana will have news of the Botero paintings on Saturday. Sergio’s friend flies into London on Sunday, by which time James should have a realistic valuation of the emerald. I only wish I could read Monday’s diary now. Don’t even think about it.

  DAY 57 - THURSDAY 13 SEPTEMBER 2001

  6.03 am

  It was a clear cold night, and for the first time two flimsy blankets were not enough to keep me warm. I had to lie very still if I was not to freeze. It reminded me of being back at boarding school. As two blankets are the regulation issue, I shall have to speak to Darren about the problem. I’m pretty confident he will have a reserve stock.

  8.15 am

  I watch breakfast television while eating my cornflakes. The news coming out of Washington is that the State Department seems convinced that it was, as has already been widely reported, Osama bin Laden who orchestrated the terrorist attacks. We must now wait and see how George W. Bush plans to retaliate. The president’s description of the terrorists as ‘folks’ hasn’t filled the commentators with confidence. Rudy Giuliani, the Mayor of New York, on the other hand, is looking more like a world statesman every day. When the report switches from Washington to New York, I am surprised to observe a pall of smoke still hanging over the city. It’s only when the cameras pan down onto the rubble that one is made fully aware of just how long it will be before that city’s physical scars can be healed.

  9.00 a