Archer describes 'hell' in cell

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Lord Archer: contemplated suicide

Jeffrey Archer had only been in prison for a few hours when he began to sink into a deep depression, the first extract from his jail diary reveals today.

It is his first night in Belmarsh in south-east London, and the prison doctor has told him that he will be spending it in the medical wing. Archer is surprised that instead of an open ward it consists only of more cells. "Why have they put me in here?" he asks the woman prison officer, but she does not reply. Later he learns it is because prisoners are most likely to attempt suicide in the first 24 hours.

"The cell measures five paces by three, and the brick walls are a depressing mauve," he writes. "In one corner is a single bed with a rock hard mattress."

The lavatory has no lid and no flush. "I am determined not to use it. The window has four thick iron bars, caked in dirt. No curtains, no curtain rail. Stark, cold and unwelcoming .. . I begin to experience a profound depression."

He is cheered up when he goes through some supplies left by his son William. Among them is a copy of David Niven's autobiography, The Moon's A Balloon, with a message inside the cover: "Hope you never have to read this, Dad, but if you do, chin up. We love you and your appeal is on its way, William xx James xx."

That night he discovers the reality of suicide watch. After an hour he is woken up when the light is switched on, the grille in the door opens and a prison officer peers in. The performance is repeated every hour on the hour for the rest of the night.

The next morning he awakes at 6am and, determined not to waste time, he starts writing a prison diary. "Normally, if I leave home for a writing spree, I go in search of somewhere that has a view of the ocean."

A prisoner working on the hospital wing asks him if he wants anything, and he asks for some more paper. The price is six autographs, one to be made out to his daughter. The spare autographs are clearly for bartering: "I can't imagine what five Jeffrey Archer signatures are worth ( a packet of cigarettes, perhaps?) but I am grateful for this trade. I have a feeling that, in this hellhole, writing may turn out to be my salvation. It will keep me sane."

He is handed a towel, toothbrush and toothpaste: when he brushes his teeth his gums bleed. He blames it on the stress. During the 45-minute exercise period he teams up with a prisoner called Gordon who tells him he has served 11 years of a life sentence for murder. He stabbed his lover's boyfriend 17 times when he found them in bed together.

Gordon points out Ronnie Biggs. "I glance across to see a sick old man with a tube coming out of his nose, a man who doesn't look as if he has long to live. He's sitting on a bench in the far corner surrounded by geraniums. ' They've just planted those, Jeff,' says Gordon. 'They must have known you were comin'.'"

They pass a "young West Indian" who stands motionless with his face to the wall. It turns out he killed his wife and young daughter. Another prisoner looks lost: he is Barry George, convicted for killing Jill Dando.

"I don't tell him Jill was an old friend - we both hail from Weston-super-Mare. For the first time in my life, I keep my counsel."

Three days later The Sun reports that Biggs and Archer shook hands after Gordon introduced them. Later another prisoner warns him not to say anything that he does not want to see in a national newspaper the next day.

Archer finds the prison food hard to get used to. He takes one look at what's on offer for lunch - "overcooked meat, heaven knows from which animal, mushy peas swimming in water and potatoes that Oliver Twist would have rejected." Instead he has a slice of bread and a cup of milk.

A fellow prisoner called James - a Listener, trained by the Samaritans to help those finding prison hard - tells him that England are all out for 187 in the Test against Australia, and offers to get Archer a radio. That night Archer rejects the canteen food again: supper is a tube of Pringles and a cup of mineral water.

During the association period he meets Jack, who is 48 and has spent the past 22 years in prison. In his cell he shows him a piece of a paper with a drawing on it: it's the track where they hold ant races. No money changes hands, but at the end of the week the prisoner in the three-man cell who has won the most races gets to choose which bed he will sleep in for the next seven nights. Which one do they choose, asks Archer. "You're ****in' dumb, Jeff. The one farthest from the ants, of course, so you can be sure of a night's sleep."

By Saturday he has been given a Bic razor, so he can shave two days' stubble. "I consider cutting my throat, but the thought of failure and having to return to that awful hospital wing is enough to put anyone off."

It's the day of his mother's funeral, which Archer has been allowed out to attend. The prison officers accompanying him seem nervous: Archer later discovers that they are on edge because they will get the blame if anything goes wrong. After the service he says his goodbyes to Mary, who wants to cancel a summer school she is chairing so she can visit him. Archer won't have it - he wants her to carry on with a normal life. "She sighs. The truth is, I never want her to see me in Belmarsh."

 

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