30 September 2005

ALFRED - FRIDAY, 30TH. SEPTEMBER.

In my first wing 5H, during the night, especially in the early hours, a light would flash, lighting up the cell. When it went out, there was a clang. I had spotted the spying setup, high above the toilet. One got used to it. They did not seem to have the same setup in wing 4A. But occasionally, very occasionally, the metal flap on the tiny window in the door would click open and then shut. But no light. Sometimes we could hear the boots of the warders go along each floor. But unless it was myself that was wanted, I took no notice.
We still had visiting slips put under the door that ordered us to be prepared for the visit in the afternoon. Present yourself to the movements officer at such and such a time, with only one's identity card. As usual, there was my slip this morning when I got out of my bed to go to the toilet. I always hoped that Angelo was still asleep, as I did not like being looked at when I was about my business. Even if Angelo was awake, he pretended to be asleep. I then washed and dressed. It was light enough to begin this diary entry.
When the doors were opened, the officer looked to see if we were in. Off we went to collect toast and teabags. The officer at the kitchen hatch told us we would be banged up this morning. There would be no morning cleaning, but those on education and gym would proceed with the main movements. They have a list of those persons. Angelo was down for the gym, and the cell door was opened to let him go, and then shut behind him.
There could be several reasons why the bang- up was imposed. Nearly always it was because there was a shortage of staff. One tries to guess which was the cause. There were only two officers visible. It could be that more officers than usual were off sick or on leave. Or was it because there had been an incident in another wing, and as many officers as possible were drafted in to deal with it? Our wing had one very large glass window which overlooked the park, and we could see all the movements of the officers. But whatever it was it was just not on to have 50 prisoners wandering around with only two officers to keep an eye on us, and control us if there was an incident in our wing. We remained banged-d up for the whole morning, and only let out to collect our lunch at 1.20 pm. Main movements were called at 1.30 pm., just enough time to take a couple of bights at the baguette, before reporting to the wing's inner gate for the search, and eventually off for my visit.
I was fed up about the morning, but wanted to look as happy as I could for Una. I asked other prisoners what the bang- up was all about, but no one seemed to know. It was raining as we crossed the park, but not heavily. Once we got to the entrance to the visiting hall, we are locked into a waiting room. About 50 or 60 of us are held in a room of 20 feet by 20 feet. When all the officers were in place we were processed through searches and in to the hall, handing in our identity cards at the desk, and being given the letter and number of our seat. I could not hear clearly as I am a little deaf, and I was about to lean across the desk to ask for it to be repeated when I remembered not to put my elbows on the desk again. Soon after my release I have an appointment in the audiology department at Northampton General Hospital. The hearing aids will be digital. I look forward to those.

What a joy it was to see Una, all by herself. It is a very moving moment for me. She looked a lot more relaxed than she was yesterday. Our hour was a lovely time. She told me she had been about Towcester shops collecting up the petition forms, which would be presented by our MP in Parliament. I hope he will read it out, in the House of Commons and not just slip it in the bag hanging from the Speaker's chair. We hope that there might be 70 petitions presented.
As I had so little to eat before visiting time, Una bought a few Chocolate biscuits with our cups of coffee. I apologised to Una for not having a shave and I pointed out that the toiletries' counter had not been opened this morning. She also told me that she had agreed to an exclusive agreement with the Daily Mail for our story, and that the paper would take us away to a hotel for a day or two for the interviews. I am getting in the mood for my release.
I thoroughly enjoyed that visit. When the visitors were called to go they have to file out through a single door and pass their hands under a blue light. Then a last wave.
We sit and wait for the call to get up and go. It is done row after row. We collect our ID cards and are searched. We move through the " airport" arch to see if we have anything that we should not have, like a file or a knife or whatever. Then it is off shoes which are inspected before they run their hands all over us. If you have anything in your pocket it is removed. I only have the ID card and a handkerchief.
When I was being processed again at our wing gate, I asked if it was possible to have a razor, and the officer said he would get me one. Being locked up again, I had my shave and then an officer came and collected it. I do not often shave at the end of the day, but it is very good to feel a clean face.

We must have had an association that evening, as I spoke to a very black inmate, with scars on his cheeks who spoke with a thick African voice. I remember, that as my family was travelling back to England towards the end of World War 2, we stopped off at Lagos in Nigeria, many men had tribal scars cut on their faces.
We talk about our families. He was particularly upset because soon it would be his son's first birthday, and also it would be his wife's birthday, and he would be unable to give them a good celebration. It is a prisoners greatest concern how are their families are coping. It must be worse for them, than it is for us in prison.





UNA - SEPTEMBER 30TH 2005

I had some catching up to do: completing yesterday's diary entry and writing the letter to Blair. This was the first time I had fallen behind with these. Sometimes there are just not enough hours in a day.

Checking yesterday's Daily Mail I read a clearly expressed letter from Susan Hatton under the heading "Tax is cancelled." It was marvellous to read such a clear explanation of the confusion that began on the first night of Alfred's prison sentence.
I quote it in full:
" Further to the case of jailed council tax rebel Rev Alfred Ridley, I understand a South Northants District officer rang Mrs Ridley to say the debt would be wiped out, but the council leader then decided that the matter should be debated in the local cabinet.
To quote the Council Tax Enforcement Law 1992 arrears 152: " Once a client has been imprisoned for non-payment of council tax, the local authority cannot take any further action against the client for the council tax debt.
Therefore, even though technically the debt remains, the local authority cannot do anything to enforce it and the client does not have to pay it."
Our elected representatives would be better employed working towards reducing this grossly unfair tax rather than wasting time and money debating a matter that is not within their jurisdiction, and should stand with those, like Alfred Ridley, myself and many others who seek to change an unjust system based on house values rather than ability to pay."

The house was put in reasonable order at a rapid rate before I hurried into town to collect the two weekly papers. Sometimes the Towcester Post was delivered late but this morning there was no such delay. On the Advertiser's front page there was an article about our protest and a more detailed one inside the Post.
I crossed the busy A5 that runs through the middle of Towcester to the Nat West's cash machine to draw out our monthly housekeeping allowance, plus a smaller amount to spend on Braun gas refills at the chemist, repaired glasses at the opticians, and a large notebook just in case we needed to rewrite our diaries. Mine was written hastily at times and not easy to understand. It was quite a rough account of what happened.

Because it was time to send Petitions to our M.P. I decided to collect the signatures from the places where I had left empty lists for this purpose. From the Church office I was given back an empty page. Gi's the Hairdressers had filled three sides, almost a 100 signatures. There were several more from the Bookie's and Flair the gown shop, and none at all from two other shops who had buried the lists under other papers. The last port of call was Humbert's the Auctioneers. Like the last two shops they had not given the Petition top priority. They offered me the chance to turn up on Sunday, half an hour before their Auction began, to collect signatures at the entrance. Not all was lost then. It meant very little effort for me to do this because Humberts stood next door to the Learning Centre a few hundred yards away from home.

Coming through the back gate with the shopping I noticed that the Virginia creeper growing on the fence was turning an attractive shade of autumn red. Alfred had planted this to soften the hard line of the fence. It was doing him proud. I must remember to tell him this afternoon

Soon afterwards Christian rang the front door bell. He had come to explain our contract with the Daily Mail. It was the only paper that offered and followed through a contract with us.
Although the shopping was still not packed away, it didn't really matter at all. Usually it was important to me to have everything looking tidy.

I was learning fast that the media have a different agenda from ours. They need to sell papers and programmes. They earn their living this way. Offers, attention and parties are all part of the way they function. They are not favouring us, although I must emphasise that at no time did they offend. Rather they encouraged us.

I left home at 12.45 p.m. to see Alfred. We had a good session together. Alfred told me how his friend, Ali, was now teaching a group of prison warders to weight lift! This is a kind of prison promotion for him, called an enhanced status which increased his privileges.
I told Alfred about Christian's visit and that the Press Conference had been changed to an earlier time of 12.30 p.m. but still planned for October 4th
Christine intended to make a Statement after Alfred’s on that day...

When visiting time was over all the visitors stood waiting for the first door to be unlocked. It was a recovery time for many of us. Some just stood in silence, totally withdrawn. Others chatted brightly to those they had journeyed with or to whoever seemed to want to talk. Today a lady close by me began to cry. What do you do? Leave her to recover or try some comfort? I risked putting my hand on her shoulder and hoped I was not too intrusive. When she calmed down she told me that in this prison her brother's murderer had spent time. Visiting her son today had brought back some harsh memories. What a difficult situation for her to be in, and what courage she had to be here.
Another lady told me she dreaded these visiting times, finding it hard to cope with the mood swings of her " prisoner."
Visitors sometimes have the hardest job of all dealing with their emotions and much else in order to live their daily lives.

At home there was not much time to breathe in before Rebecca from the Trevor Macdonald programme phoned to make final arrangements for the great day, October 4th. The end was most definitely in sight.
We were going to set off on that day at 9.15 a.m. to be at the Prison in good time to meet Alfred as he came through the gates. Joel and Anne were driving there independently.
I would be travelling with an interviewer and a cameraman who would call for me at 8.45 a.m.
The timing of the Celebration Party was fixed too. It would be held on Monday, October 10th at 7p.m.
I was asked to make a guest list. I would enjoy doing this.
On my own I went through the details that had changed for after the Press Conference that Christian had discussed earlier. From the Conference we were going straight to the Whately Hall Hotel in Banbury, and not Fawsley Hall which was fully booked. There we would be until Thursday, and Anne and Joel would be with us, a family celebration for Alfred. It would be too much for Jake to be included.

Ross Slater, a free-lance journalist was keen to put me in touch with the Mail on Sunday who were interested in our diaries. Tom Hendry, the original interested agent, would need to be told about this in all fairness. There were also the Tony Blair letters. Joel offered to help with any contacts. I welcomed his offer.
We continued discussing details of the day over a meal until, feeling extremely walloped, I caught up with the diary writing in bed determined to complete the record of today's events.