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The prisoner

Peter Wayne is banned from a conference on marginalisation and packed off back to Lindholme

It has been a month of turmoil and upheaval. Just when all seemed to be going swimmingly, and I was basking in the triumph of Mrs Michael Howard’s visit, a bolt struck from a volatile summer sky.

To begin at the beginning: there was a heated argument in one of our peer encounter groups (the “engine” of the therapeutic community) after Acko, a young Welsh miscreant with something of the Indian brave about him, called me a “cunt” and a “liar.” I flew at him with some equally unparliamentary expressions. He then crossed the group circle and landed a swift…

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