‘You can see the rules (policy) if you hand over your cigar lighter', the Ward Manager said, whilst surrounded by her 'heavies' in the doorway of my cell.
Subsequent delivery
and a further promise, has, as yet yielded nothing.
So I repeat the
academic exercise, a few days later, ensuring this time, there are at least 14
involved. Worrying when the obvious
question was put, few it seemed had even seen the Rule Book yet alone Statutory
Health and Safety regulations.
Whenever Her Majesty chooses to
lock me up, the first job I do is to ‘case the joint' with the view, as so many of
my adversaries would have you to believe, to try and escape.
My survey on such
places has always been, revealed in confidence towards the end of my
internment, but here I am at Her Majesty's pleasure for an indeterminate length
of time.
I remember, long ago,
a Guernsey born prison officer in the quaint old HM Prison, Dorchester,
breaking all the rules and letting me peep at my confidential file.
In it, handwritten,
was a note from a certain Taunton Police Office stating ‘Potentially
Dangerous and likely to try to escape.
This, the prison
officer explained, immediately barred me as an outside gardener at the old people's
home, librarian or the plum job, the HM Governor was trying to clear to be his
own tea maker and ‘batman.
Perhaps his passion to
‘Break the Bonds of Earth', at every conceivable opportunity, influenced him a
little?
And still these
‘shrinks' refuse to read the evidence brought in by my good wife, for fear it
may endanger their ‘interim diagnosis' of paranoid delusional disorder.