Rule 43
I cannot say too much about prison life in Ashford as I didn't really experience much of it. This is because as I passed through what was called 'reception', the screws read the reports from the police which I presume said I was a security risk, and I was immediately put on 'Rule 43'. This means that I was put in solitary confinement for my entire stay at Ashford.
I had a cell with a bed, a desk and a chair. That was it. The cell was searched at least weekly. The only time I came out of the cell to associate with other prisoners was when we had a 30 minute exercise period each day, so long as the weather was fine.
Apart from reading books and counting the bricks in the wall my only occupation was polishing dustbins! Each morning at about 9 o'clock the screws used to bring me a dustbin. A galvanised metal dustbin complete with lid, and I was supposed to polish it inside and out until it could be used as a mirror.
The only interesting thing that happened was when I was seen by a Home Office psychiatrist. He asked me, "What would you do if you saw a battleship coming down the High Street?". I thought for a moment and replied, "I would blow it up with my submarine" I replied, with a brow furrowed with confusion. "Where the hell you get a submarine from?" he asked, "same place you got your battleship" I replied! That was the full extent of an interview that formed the basis of a report for the court!!
My Trial
My trial was held at the Central Criminal Court at the Old Bailey in London about 6 months after my arrest. The only argument in the court room was whether or not I was sent to Broadmoor or another mental hospital. It seemed to me that I was "an interesting case", now labelled as having a 'psychopathic personality disorder'. It seemed everybody wanted to get their hands on my brain to twist and manipulate it until it conformed to their image of 'normal'. I just hoped the Doctor that asked me about battleships didn't get his hands on me!!
Long Grove Hospital, the home of Farmstead Villa, won the court room tussle. I was to be confined to Long Grove Hospital under Section 65 of the Mental Health Act. This means that the Home Secretary would have to sign the approval for my release.
Because I was now sentenced and subject to a Mental Health Order I was kept in the prison hospital. This was even worse than being on Rule 43. I had no work at all and didn't get out for any exercise. However, within a month I was transferred from Ashford to Long Grove Hospital at Epsom. I was put on an adult ward under the care of Dr Pilkington.
Pamela Pilkington was too nice and caring to be a forensic psychiatrist. Or maybe she was cleverer than I give her credit for? What I do know is that, from my perspective, whilst I was at Long Grove I got away with everything!
I behaved myself for 3 months when I arrived at Long Grove. Then bit by bit I started rebelling. I started taking drugs again and stealing cars from staff and visitors in the hospital. I stole one car and crashed it head on into the art therapy department.
I bought my own first car, a Triumph Herald, and kept it in the hospital grounds. Whilst the staff thought I was out walking in the grounds I was actually out and about driving around thieving and getting drugs. I loved that Triumph, unfortunately I crashed it and wrote it off. I was travelling down toward Brighton and forgot to stop for one of the new roundabouts they had just built. The car tried to go over the roundabout instead of round it, stopping on top, snapped in half.
I went back to the hospital, gathered together some more cash and bought an old Austin Somerset Saloon (A40).
I had one or two sexual encounters with female patients in the ward. On one occasion I was in my private room in bed with a woman doing the business when a female nurse walked in. "What are you doing?" she asked. "If you don't know now you never will" I replied!!
One of my favourite hangouts was up at the cricket pavilion at the sports field. I used to go there quite often. Often with girls from Farmstead Villa that I had tempted with drink or drugs. We would sit smoking weed or drinking cider. Sometimes we would have sex, sometimes we would be incapable. It was a good hangout though, we never got caught and there was a good shortcut through the woods to the off licence at Ewell.
