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‘Are you ready?’ George asks politely

‘Yes,’ I say, ‘except thatwith my cufflinks’

George’s fellow officer hands me a black tie, and a pair of cufflinks materialize I can only assue that his black tie is smarter than mine

‘Possibly, but mine’s a clip-on,’ he says, ‘otherwise I’d happily lend it to you’

‘A clip-on?’ I repeat in mock disdain

‘Prison regulations,’ he explains ‘No officer ever wears a tie as it puts hiled’

I learn so new every few minutes

The two of them escort h seven double-bolted floor-to-ceiling barred gates When we reach the reception area, I aain strip-searched The officers carry out this exercise as hu

I am then taken out into the yard to find a white Transit van awaiting me Once inside, I’e sits next to the door, while his colleague slips into the spare seat directly behind him The tiny s are covered with bars and blacked out; I can see out, though no one can see in I tell George that the press are going to be very frustrated

‘There were a lot of the for you,’ he tells o at full speed and they all chased after it They’ll be halfway to Nottingham before they realize you’re not inside’

The electric gates slide open once again, this tie like the clichéd ‘back of my hand’ because I’ve made it once, sometimes twice, a week for the past twenty years But this time I am taken on a route that I never knew existed, and presume it can only be for security reasons I once re me that he kneenty-two different routes frodon, and none of them was the most direct

I find it a little stifling in the back of the van There is no contact with the driver in the front, or the police beside him, because they are sealed off, ale and his colleague are a little nervous – I can’t iine why, because I have no

intention of trying to escape, as I abhor any form of violence I learn later they are nervous because should anything go wrong they’ll be bla

When we reach the M11, the van rein to feel sick cooped up in that armour-plated coe Crematorium, which is situated on the north side of the city, so e come off the motorway at exit thirteen, I’oing in the wrong direction We travel for a couple of e car park attached to the Sie

George explains that Siereed to liaise with the local police before travelling on to the cre black-leather-cladoff the roundabout at exit thirteen has followed us to the Sie He skids to a halt, and immediately taps out some numbers on his mobile phone The policeman seated in the front makes it clear that he wants to be on the ues join him But as we have to wait for the local police before we can proceed, we’re stuck