It’s Christmas Day. My cellie Simmo and I wish each other a happy day as we wake and wearily consume our usual ‘no-frills’ breakfast of CocoPops, stale white bread with raspberry jam, washed down with prison-ration coffee and the last of yesterday’s milk supply. Even though it looks like Santa has forgotten us this year, we both have some ill-defined, unspoken hope that it will be a better day. At muster, the stony-faced guards wish us Happy Christmas as we stand to attention, shoulder-to-shoulder, in our lines in the yard. But that’s the only thing that seems different about today. It’ll be impossible to get onto the phones, so I have no expectations of calling anyone. Following muster, I have a shower, and then return to the cell.

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Many inmates come to our door to wish us a Merry Christmas – lots of handshaking, hugs, laughing, a chat, a few chocolates, and multiple cups of tea and coffee. I give away the extra sweets and biscuits I ordered to give to others who’ve been so good to me since I arrived.

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After a very social morning, we have noon muster. Our hot lunch consists of a small portion of roast chicken, a piece of ham, cranberry sauce, as well as a small cupcake pudding with icing and a cherry on top. We put our gaol lunch to one side, as most of us will join small groups and cook our fresh meat orders – either on the barbeque in the yard, or in a limited number of electric frypans which can be borrowed from the guards. While some guys decide to barbeque and eat in the fresh air of the yard, most of us empty our cells of tables and chairs and place them in the wide corridors of our wings where we’ll eat and carry on. It’s all very al fresco!

Simmo and Hernandez, a Brazilian guy, cook a banquet for about six of us in Hernandez’s cell: chicken, ham, salmon, spicy mince, beans, and rice with vegetables. We serve ourselves and eat our fill. It’s all very noisy, but everyone is in a festive mood. We distribute the left-over food – of which there is plenty – amongst the other ‘guests’.

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Just before afternoon muster, we begin the clean-up and replace the chairs and tables back in our cells. I do most of the washing up in the sink in our cell. The muster siren rings. We pour out into the yard for line up and to receive our dinner – a boiled egg salad with pasta. Most people are too full to eat, so it’ll be discarded into the toilet or stored for as long as possible. Simmo and I get back to our cell and get stuck into our Lions Club Christmas cake, which we eat with spoonfuls of cold custard. We watch TV until quite late, and then realize that we’re ‘peckish’, so we eat some of our gaol lunch as well as dark chocolate from my buy up. It’s a hot night, but well-fed, we finally nod off.