A change is as good as a rest– so they say.
February 14th, 2025, will live in my memory for a while. Like many events since my partners incarceration big events continually punctuate our life like rocks in a desert of eternity.
I had not seen him since before Christmas. We had some family events and deadlines that made seeing each other in January too hard. So, I booked a double visit and accommodation at a reasonable hotel so I could see him over two days and get a small break as well. Then came the notice he was going to be moved, just a couple of days warning. last time it was no warning he was just moved. The day he was being transferred I spent the day at work on tenterhooks, the idea of him in the Serco van, sat in that metal box with not even a book allowed on the journey gave me waking nightmares. knowing the journey was hours did not help, I lived every mile as if I was with him, at least this time he knew where he was going, but not what he was going into. The strain on me was obvious and tangible to my colleagues but of course it has all kept within, and I didn’t talk to anyone, people must have thought I was just on a bad day, they do not know about the situation. In fact, they don’t even know my name! I live two lives; sometimes it feels like three. I no longer know who I am.
I spent that whole day waiting, it went into evening hours, I stayed at work I didn’t dare leave I might lose phone signal, my work place was quiet everyone had gone just the cleaners and me as I sat my lonely vigil. My mind ran every scenario a crash,
a change of destination, I waited and waited at times I couldn’t breathe. I dare not even leave my work area to go to the toilet as phone signal at this point was everything. When the phone rang, and a strange man uttered some intelligible words in an accent I had rarely heard in my life all I heard was my partners name and told me he was at …. Prison I gasped, I took a gulp of breath and then cried. Alone sitting in a cold now dark room I sobbed, he was safe! he was out of that metal box.
Images flashed through my mind now of those films where prisoner’s jeers as newbies arrive, I bat these thoughts down. I know it’s not like that, but you see I don’t know, I don’t know what it’s like. All our life together we have shared experience after experience; hardly a day apart, over 25 years together a vibrant life living to our fullest just as everyone else. Now apart, he experiences daily things, smells, sensations, noises and fears I can only try to understand. Sometime shortly after the stranger’s call he called, I cried with relief to hear his voice. Then, with no warning, our few minutes were up and silence, cut off before we could even say I love you as we usually ended our days outside so we end our calls. I held the phone and sobbed a wealth emotion; I cannot even list.
Two weeks went by until another call, I had to contact the Safer Custody Team. He hadn’t been informed his family and friends phone numbers would need to be approved. So, he hadn’t been able to call thinking it was just taking time to process when in fat no process had been initiated. Frustration again as one by one his family, his mother his brothers were cleared to talk to him, until then it was me that had to convey the information, I had been given by him, communication at this point between us like the American west with messages being passed from one to the other and back again. All my responsibility all important to him so all important to me communication is everything, our “email a prisoner” messages were being delivered, but he couldn’t respond to them as the process was different to his previous prison.
Arranging visits, was a totally different procedure which involved installing apps. Thank goodness I have a smart phone, but his mum and my dad do not. I fear what changes will occur as he has a long sentence, so we know we will have many more days of change to endure. So, where are we now. Were able to talk on phone, he still cannot respond to emails. My valentines card never arrived nor did his to me. I guess they are sitting in his old cell, such personal items with so little care. I can book a visit at last, which means a 5am set off for any hopes of making a morning visit. Going there and back will be about a six-hour drive. Fuel and accommodation costs make this difficult, but it looks like I will have to find the finances somehow. Good thing is it sounds like the prison is an improvement on the last. He is the one that has to endure the daily strain. I cried when he said he had a private shower on arrival and the toilet has a small wall so he can have some privacy. For the first time in seven years, he can see trees from his window. He can eat at tables outside of his cell, has access to an in-cell phone, the library is bigger than last prison and has been allowed access to his study materials already. However, he will not see the rest of his property for at least a month. I now must deal with my fears of travelling long journeys as a lone female in some pretty isolated areas, I must prepare for tiredness on the road, I have worries about the different procedures and dress code. So many changes; there is, and will be, no rest from those, the difference of one prison routine to another is just so stark.
Thank goodness I can share all these worries with affect that is one change in my life, one constant I can rely on to help me cope.
