22 September

ALFRED - THURSDAY, 22ND. SEPTEMBER.

I do not know how long I have been awake, but it was some time before the dogs had their food, and it is still dark. I continued lying here until the daylight began and the birds descend on the rubbish thrown from the windows. Then I will start this day’s diary entry.
The first thing I noticed, when I went to get toast and tea bags, is that some the usual inmates seem to be missing. One gets to know a group of people, and then the next day, one or two or maybe more, are no longer here. I presume that they have been moved to another wing within the prison, or may be to another prison, or may be they have been freed on licence. We had about 10 black prisoners, who were happy and outgoing people, always giving a smiling hallo with a handshake. They seemed to be like young school boys. Now there are only two or three. The Romanians have disappeared except for two or three from the Indian sub continent, mostly from Pakistan I should think, The rest are white and are in their twenties or thirties. Some seem able to compare various prisons, rather proudly. They dig and poke each other rather viciously, almost wanting to provoke the other, nearly to the point of a fight. There are three Chinese; two of which are very young looking, who do not speak English, though one seems to understand the language a little. The third is a little older and born in Germany, but speaks good English, and lives in Northampton.

While I visited Dev, he had with him a fierce looking Middle Eastern man, but in fact his native language is Urdu. He was reading a pamphlet which had several different languages written on it, including Arabic, which is the language of the Koran. Excusing myself for being nosey, I asked what Muslims thought about western influence in their lands. Was it good or bad? Very diplomatically, he said half and half, but admitted that the Americans were hated. They thought the Americans were after their national assets: oil, and in Africa gem stones, particularly diamonds. They felt that the Americans financed and encouraged rebellious groups, arming them, feeding them drugs, in return for the assets. The Americans were responsible for most of the trouble in the East, (Sudan, Ethiopia, Eritrea, and in West Africa. Now I have heard this on the radio or TV, but always put from the Western point of view, with a touch of scepticism, and by implication. But I was hearing it as an open accusation. Even more vehemently, it was stated that America supported the hated Saudi Royal Family for that country's oil. The Middle Eastern Muslims hate the Americans for their swaggering, bullying in their lands, and depriving the ordinary people of their share of their land's assets. Is it true or is it propaganda?

Talking with Pat, in the exercise yard, when I told him about writing a diary, he said not to bother too much about the routine and the people in prison, but to emphasise the deplorable council tax system that caused me to be here, and the government's inability to address its complete unfairness to the less wealthy of our own land. The down- trodden peasants! They have had enough since 1997 and are aware that the more wealthy are let off their proper share of contributing to the state and councils.

Una came into the hall at visiting time, and I was delighted to see her, but she did look weary. And I was not surprised by what she told me. She did not complain, but she was having too much to cope with. The unceasing telephone calls from the media. I feel such a sham, sitting on my bottom, in prison, while she has all that to deal with.
On top of that, a letter from the Diocesan Press Officer, offered to deal with the media instead of her, to take the load off her. But it is the media who are the spear point of our campaign and would not be satisfied with aloof statements from the Diocesan Press Officer.
For all the 14 and 15 days of my imprisonment they have been high lighting our cause. She has been handling them brilliantly. But apart from that aspect, I was delighted to hear of all the support she was having from people she met, and the continuing flow of post and telephone calls. I am so fortunate to have her visits, and the others who have come when she could not.
Very few prisoners have their home as close we do to the prison, and get so many visits. Being in prison for a civil offence, I am entitled to a visit every day, and there have been only one or two days when I have not had a visit. But it takes a toll on Una, because making arrangements for visits adds to what she has to do. Taking three hours or so to visit me just piles up on all the rest of what waits for her when she gets home. God Bless her.







UNA - SEPTEMBER 22ND 2005

Although I woke at 5 a.m. it was 7.30 a.m. when I began to move about the house. It was such a still, warm morning that I eat my breakfast in the garden, savouring its peace before getting on with life.

Joel's crutches, never used, were still propped in the cupboard under the stairs. He had recovered from his foot injury and felt no need to keep the check up appointment at the hospital. I offered to take them back and cancel the appointment at the same time. It was an opportunity to get out of the house, and I found driving slowed down my busy mind.
On the way back I posted a letter for Susan Hatton, a gifted letter writer for the council tax campaign. She had let me have sight of her latest letter to the local press commenting on the unwise statements coming out of South Northants Council. She had made her points strongly and accurately.

Later that day when I set off to see Alfred I saw Sheila McLeod walking in our direction. Something told me she had us in mind. She was carrying a deep pink polyanthus plant. I stopped the car and she came across the road to sit inside for a chat and to give me the plant, a real boost. Before she continued her walk we made plans for her to come with Christine and me next Thursday to the Prison to be part of the supporters we hoped would gather there for Christine's visit to Alfred.

The usually easy car parking at Woodhill was the same today. The three nearest areas to Reception were full. It was a long stretch to walk from where I eventually found a space. But exercise is good!

Visitors had already formed a queue outside the locked door where the full screening stage takes place, providing me with chance to mentally slow down once more. I could take time out with no responsibilities while I waited.
I heard someone speak to me, using my name and asking quietly how I was. It was impossible to see who spoke because the sunlight blinded my eyes. Turning to face the other way I was surprised to see Reg, a Computer Lecturer who had shown immense patience to Alfred and me when we tried a Word Processing course earlier in the year in Towcester. He was now working full time at Woodhill Prison and was on his way to begin his class. Lucky inmates. He had real teaching skills.
Visitors today were in a withdrawn mood and we sat quietly waiting. I noticed the displays on the walls of the waiting room. They were neatly arranged and in good order showing photographs of past and the present Governors, records of drug discoveries that visitors failed to conceal and the severe penalties that were given as a result, and information about drugs with details about helplines.

Alfred was moved to see me, as I was to see him. We clung together for a while before I could look at him properly. He had a cold and still no change of clothes. From home I had been assured by the Prison authorities that he would be able to collect them this very morning. Obviously not.
Alfred told me that a fellow inmate smuggles him three roll-ups at a time to keep him going.
Apparently he wakes early and hears the quarrelling birds outside. He uses this time to write his diary. We try to see the possibility of two days away after October 4th, Alfred's day of release. He had thoughts of going to York, rather far away for a two day break. We decided to go on thinking and discuss again later.
I am reminded that he would not be in prison at all if the powers that be, Government and Councils alike, ran a better and fairer council tax system for the people of our country. By continuing with the present system they fail us all.
We agreed that the time for the Press Conference at the Saracen's Head in Towcester on October 4th would be 2 p.m., probably suitable for everyone, if the Hotel could fit us in. I would get in touch as soon as possible to clinch this.
We parted knowing that we shall see each other tomorrow rather than in five days time.

Home to phone calls. Channel 5 News made arrangements to cover my visit to the Prison tomorrow.
I forgot to ask why tomorrow especially?
Trevor McDonald's Programme made sure I have not gone to Mars.
Tim Maybe hopes for an exclusive interview with Alfred on October 4th. I explain to him our plans for that day and he did not argue. He did comment that the Press were like parasites. It was to our advantage that they were.

After a cheese sandwich and a cup of tea I settled down to write some letters including one to our M.P. Tim Boswell. He had written to thank me for a copy of one of my Prime Minister letters and made the point in his reply that " Council Tax will require significant changes to maintain public acceptability. " Of course he mentioned no timing. He went on to say that there were " other democratic means of making our point."
In my reply I asked him to list the democratic means we had not used. As far as I was aware we had used them all, with no effect at all.
Tim Bowel, always responded to our letters, but was reluctant to understand our point of view. We could never shake him from his respectable perch. Alfred often said politicians know nothing about real life. I have a mental picture of Tim Boswell behaving rather like Little Jack Horner: " He puts in his thumb and pulls out a plum, and says, " What a good boy am I!"

While I was letter writing, phone calls continued. A supporter who came to Alfred's last Court Hearing showed great concern in asking how he was doing.
Our daughter Anne strongly suggested that we make plans to spend Christmas in Australia with Alfred's brother, Christopher. She told me she had seen coverage of our story in the Guernsey Press with comments from two Church Wardens. One of them, David Robilliard who remembered me being fiery, had hinted that I had influenced Alfred because he was behaving out of character!
The family know that it is impossible for Alfred to be persuaded to do anything against his will. Once his mind is set he very rarely changes it. In his parishes this iron will was rarely seen. He was mostly a skilful diplomat and he took great care to maintain this role. Privately, if he takes a view no one can budge him from it.
I wrote a letter to the Guernsey Press making this point.
Anne told me that Joel could access his computer for the Guernsey Press article if I wanted to read it first. Too late, I had posted the letter. In due time the Press sent me a copy of the paper and I saw what had been printed and I was satisfied that I had not embarrassed myself.

Christine phoned after a day at the Free Hospital in London where she had to go for treatment. She was infuriated to see black staff sitting about with nothing to do leaving phone calls unanswered. She knew full well how this feels as a patient trying to get through.
I read her my today's letter to the P.M. I told him that I had received a weak reply from the Office of the Deputy Prime Minister and hoped that the coming Labour Party Conference would not defer reform of council tax. Thousands realised that they were being ripped off by this faulty system. She suggested putting in some questions instead of ranting on too much. I followed her advice and changed some of the content. Questions make more impact and answers given in response are sometimes helpful.

The last letter I wrote today was to the Prison Governor, asking him to make enquiries about Alfred's "missing" clean clothes because we were losing confidence that they would ever reach him.

All the jobs seem to come to an end by 8.40 p.m. in time to watch" Spooks" on TV. The plot, which was political, was very relevant to the present time.
An irritating cough seems to have developed so I was so glad to be in a warm bed soon afterwards, even with the empty space beside me, with sleep not far away.