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secure, that’s why we
are here.’
    As he was led
back into the prison, he looked over his shoulder at the wall and
realised it smothers any desire to escape except in the most
determined of people, besides a new addition to the security system
had been installed, an infrared beam, so sensitive it could be
broken by a small bird.
    Bell was moved
to a newly erected wing of the prison along with many others from
the ‘A’ wing. He was impressed with his own cell, built like a
large plastic mould, which he found easier to clean and equipped
with a built-in wardrobe. In the old cold Victorian cell, he had to
hang his clothes on a hook on the back of the door. Here you can
have the curtains and bed covers you wanted, as long as you pay for
them.
    Bell’s cell
was brightly coloured and he soon made it very comfortable with
floral curtains and a floral bedspread, although he did not possess
any photographs or ornaments. For the first time in over ten years,
he had a window without bars; they had been replaced by unbreakable
glass. He had more room to move about and the paintwork was bright
and clean. There were two television rooms, one in the new dining
room and a games room with a snooker table, table tennis table, a
games computer and a radio and cassette. The old block was still
occupied, where any misbehaviour would result in being moved back
to it.
    Bell was
issued with a new set of clothes, although the issue of a striped
shirt and dark trousers, emphatically not what he would like to
wear, as it was rough and cheap material but even if it were to the
best of material the uniform still spelt out, you are a prisoner
and not an ordinary citizen and it is designed to remind you that
the uniform is associated with the low status of being a prisoner,
a captive who is held behind bars and walls against his own wishes
as he is a criminal.
    The conditions
on the new wing were far different from the old, where you were not
watched day and night and your sleep was not disturbed by the
screws that would decide to wake an inmate up in the middle of the
night, just for the hell of it, whenever they could. It passed the
time for the screws, but Bell had never been subject to such
treatment. In the worse cases, the screws would pick on a child
molester where they would torment, harass and wind him up until he
could take no more and retaliated. That gave the screws the chance
to give the con a good hiding. The punches, kicks and beatings from
their clubs were always aimed at the body, never at the face, that
way the beating didn’t show.
    He was now
able to socialise more, with less restrictions to confinement, in
this way he could gradually learn to appreciate honesty and
communication with other inmates.
    This growing
mutual acceptance would hopefully lead to a better sense of
self-acceptance and he could become more and more interactive at
longer periods.
    His new-found
friend was Sam Bentley; a tall heavily-built back man, who had
served three years of his eight-year sentence. He was a physically
strong man but with an unexpected gentleness and kindness which
attracted Bell.
    He had been
convicted for a string of rapes on elderly women in high-rise
blocks of flats in Birmingham. He would follow them into the
elevators and rape them on the top floor after carrying them two
flights further to the roof of the building. He told Bell it was
the best place for a rape as a tall residential building is
normally surrounded and separated by a busy road system and stood
out like an isolated island where their screams went undetected by
the noise of the traffic below.
    Bentley was
living in such a block within the cluster of high-rise buildings
where he could freely watch the old ladies enter the building and
knew how to move from one building to the other. With so many
inhabitants, the flats were visited by many people, most of them
unknown or unfamiliar, and attracting little attention.
    With him being
familiar with the elevators, passageways