28 September

ALFRED - WEDNESDAY,28TH. SEPTEMBER.

Another day without seeing Una.
Even though my time is drawing to an end, I cannot recommend being in prison to anybody. I know coming here is the result of our own decision, and in terms of the publicity for council tax reform, it is a success, I wonder if I would do it again. Possibly or possibly not. Most of those who have written to me, say they admire my stand. Only one or two have said they would do it themselves, and most admit they could not. That I understand, but I wish some more would do it, and make a much greater impact on those whose responsibility it is to govern this country. Frivolous policies should be scrapped. The money being poured into Education and the NHS is being wasted. Education has been on this Government's mind since it came into power in 1997. They have kept changing it, and it is failing and failing. Now they are back to what it was before they mucked it about. The NHS, has improved, but at what a cost. For every £1 put into it, only a 1p's worth is evident, and it is filled with clipboard Sallys at thousands of pounds a go. But it has taken the most money from people who have saved for their pensions, at the rate of æÃ5 billion a year.
I remember that I went on a march in London which was organised by the trade unions, when employees of several firms had their pension schemes cut back. It was the best march of the three that I have been on. There was a jazz band following a blown up pink elephant. I remember I went with John Burnett from Milton Keynes. The MK pensioners group is connected with the unions. I believe two of the leaders were union men. It is John and his wife Erica who are visiting me today.

I saw on the news that Sylvia Hardy was bought out of prison today. I know she will be furious. All that withholding a part of her tax, court cases, bailiffs, and finally sentenced and being taken to prison, and then the next day someone paid for her release, without consulting her. I know that she will move heaven and earth to find out who this 'Mr. Brown' is.

Reading through my diary, I have made several references to running out of tobacco. Today Angelo and I have run out of matches. It was while we were eating our toast and brewing up our tea bags, when an officer came to see Angelo about what time he was to go to the gym, and he lit up his cigarette from my pipe.
I had exercise in the yard this morning, and watched a game of cards played up against the fence. There was a small crowd of us there. I did not know the game, but the players enjoyed it, and I think I did twenty circuits as well. I try to get as much gentle exercise as I can, otherwise it is sitting down almost the whole day.

Today's visit was very strange. The visitors came but not Erica and John. I sat like a lemon getting more and more fed up. After half an hour of this I got up and walked to the desk. I got yells to sit down. Officers came running towards me from all directions. I reluctantly went back to my seat, and discussed the situation with an officer. Then there was a yell from the desk to say my visitors were being processed. Eventually John and Erica arrived, with a smiled apology from John. Erica explained that she had been told to take her coat off and she had refused, there had a lengthy argument about it. She was wearing a gillet. So I am not sure who won, but I don't expect it was Erica. The visit was very short, as you can imagine.
After collecting my identity card, I went down the short passage, I was sent into a side area for a strip search. Shoes and socks off, then trousers and pants. Then a twirl. Put on pants and trousers, and off shirt and vest, and another twirl. Then get dressed. I asked why, but I had expected this today for breaking the rules. I was told that they carried out a strip search on every one- in -ten prisoners on their way out. It worried me, as I dislike it intensely. But I suspect it was because of Erica's refusal to take off her coat, and my decision to try and walk out of the hall. A warning that no one mucks about with prison authority.
Association was in progress when I returned to the wing, but very shortly it was bang- up. I had some more mail before I was banged- up. In fact the inmates were going to their cells, when I was called up to the office to collect it. When I did get to my cell there was an officer ready to lock me in. The door was banged closed and the bolts were shot home.
At least I had mail to read, and none of it was circulars and advertising. Sometimes I hate it at home. You hear the thump of the post, and you go to collect it and all one gets is advertising.

At suppertime we ordered the next day's menu. It was either this or that, and sometimes I wondered if I might go without. But it is better to be safe than sorry.
I picked up what I had ordered yesterday and carried it back to the cell. I offered Angelo the table and chair, and I would sit on the toilet myself to eat the meal on my lap, He refused and sat on the pot himself.
Another thing about eating in the cell is that one has to wash up in the hand basin, and dry the plate and cutlery with toilet paper. You can be as fussy as you like at home, but here it is do what you can with what you have got.




­UNA - SEPTEMBER 28TH 2005

I felt tense. I knew there were some time-consuming things to do in limited time today, as well as the unexpected things that lay hidden at the moment. Take a deep breath and keep calm!

Radio Oxford rang soon after 8 a.m. to signal an interview with Anne Diamond. I was ready to try and include the facts about Government waste in the local councils' Best Value exercises that Caroline Spelman had explained in her letter. Council Taxpayers were increasingly infuriated by the examples of waste that were coming to light. The interview started with questions about Alfred's health. Then I tried to get my message across.
I enjoyed being interviewed by Anne Diamond who has a good voice and keeps level headed.

Soon afterwards there was a phone call from National ITV trying to set up a lunchtime discussion today to include Sylvia Hardy in Devon, me in Northampton and others whose names were unclear. The topic was what the Council Tax system needed in the way of reform. I was excited by the amount of publicity this would draw at a national level. I listened carefully to the arrangements to get me to a studio for mid-morning.

There were two major jobs to be done before I left home.
One was to seek help from the Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music for one of my students who was taking an exam soon. Complications had arisen because of the timing connected with moving house and holiday plans. We needed to be sure that the exam date was not affected. Sigh of relief! The Board was able to help, after a long wait in the phone queue.

I breathed in and phoned the Prison. It was time to book next week' visits. The lines were busy for sometime before I had any success. By 11.30 a.m. everything was resolved. My visits to Alfred for next weeks had been secured. I knew I was one of many, but it had all been so time consuming.

My thoughts turned to tomorrow when Christine from Isitfair would be here. To drum up support I began to phone round our group. Jo and Ian, a stalwart pair, agreed to pick up the placard the next morning. I knew that Jean Macleod was travelling with Christine and me to the Prison at mid-day. Tony and Isabel were unable to come. I think their visit to Alfred had been enough for them. For some reason they saw other visitors in a" them and us" light" and they chose not to go tomorrow.
I just hoped that John Burnett would be as successful in persuading numbers of supporters to turn out for Christine Melsom's visit as he was for Sylvia Hardy's.
I was having difficulty in finding people who were free to come and even Radio Northampton showed only mild interest.
Disappointed I went into the garden and trimmed the grass edges!

The lunchtime ITV discussion failed despite the very careful preparation by the professionals in the studio in Northampton. When the moment came for this news item I sat looking at a blank TV screen with a microphone carefully clipped in place. I could hear intermittent voices and certainly heard my name mentioned. I then recognised Sylvia's voice. It was weird feeling uncertain if anyone could hear or see me. I dare not speak for fear of making a wrong move. Time ran out. The link up had not worked.
Those in charge dismissed this as "one of those things that sometimes happens ". But it was an unnerving experience for an amateur under pressure who did not have enough time in the day to waste.
Before I left Northampton, the cameraman whom I had met over our protest times, promised to send a complete video record of all our local appearances so that Alfred could watch them at his leisure when he returned home. This gesture did a lot to compensate a difficult morning.

Before reaching the front door after being driven back to base, an IT instructor from the Learning Centre came by pushing a pram. The pram was empty for some reason. Jules, the instructor, had helped me through a Word Processor exam some months ago. Professionally she seemed to be a very calm person so I was surprised by her enthusiastic greeting. She obviously knew the details of our present life and said all the staff of the Learning Centre were right behind us in our battle for council tax reform. These unexpected words cheered me up.
Out of the corner of my eye I was aware of someone waiting nearby. Jules pushed on with her pram. I turned to recognise Mike, a neighbour from the days when we lived at Blakesley, whose skills included keeping the Church clock in time. He had brought a card for Alfred, not knowing the Prison address. He asked me to take it to him when I next visited but I explained that prison rules prevented anything being taken in. Alfred would certainly be glad of his thoughtfulness and would read his card when he returned home

It was time for today's teaching session, the last of this week. I enjoy twenty students of various abilities and ages. I am fortunate in having such happy times, encouraging these people to enjoy music making on a piano. It is important to help them develop self-criticism of their playing so that they become increasingly aware of the sounds they produce.
Making music is an emotional experience and the language of music is extensive.
It is necessary to nurture enthusiasm for mastering "tricks", which range from learning scale patterns, fingering: to be able to play with ease, phrasing: to show how a melody is shaped, co-ordinating hands so that they can be independent of each other while working together, to other endless challenges found in this fascinating journey.
I try to avoid the word "practise" and replace it with:" Can you make this work by next lesson?” hoping that this will remove the dullness of repetition and turn it into spontaneous repetition.
Music making should be one of the delights of life.
Like the C.S.Lewis story, I disappear through the back of a wardrobe three times a week into a lovely world.

Three hours later, armed with pad and pencil I sit to listen and note the phone messages left during the afternoon.
David Foot, now Rector at Cranford, who remembered us when Alfred was Rural Dean of Brixworth, wanted me to know that he was planning to send messages to 450 homes in his Parish asking people to write and encourage Alfred. No hint of disapproval from him, only genuine pastoral care. This really impressed me.

John Kimber delivered a fully signed -up Petition from his Probus members to be included with others for our M.P. to deliver in Parliament in October, not far off now. I felt really encouraged by someone else's effort.

Two good pieces of news: Christian's voice on the answerphone telling me that he planned to book rooms at Fawsley Hall for two days to include ourselves and Joel, who was keen to try it out for future use. Was this really happening to us?

The Trevor MacDonald team had ideas for funding and filming a party for us and our supporters at the Saracen's Head after our break away. The crew would stay there for two days making the preparations. A party and a breakaway sounded good to me. These wonderful, unexpected plans left me speechless.

The " Choice" programme showed continued interest to interview Alfred.
Unused to these matters, I reacted by asking a local long distance car journey firm, owned by Mr Norman Bull, for a quote for driving us to London and back. I found out later that it does not work like that. Arrangements are controlled by those who want us. Clearly I have not walked this way before! .

Finally Albert Venison spoke to me saying both he and Sylvia planned to come from Devon on October 4th to greet Alfred coming out of Prison. They would meet Alfred in the Conference room when we arrived. I found this truly moving, especially as I knew that Albert's wife was slowly dying and that he visited her every afternoon. To spend time away in such circumstances was very generous

At the end of this very mixed day of frustrations, surprises, kindness and purpose, it was good to have Joel back from London and feel the reassurance of home.