Bronson by Charles Bronson Page A

in asylums. They will never be released so they are the ideal guinea pigs. Even if they complained, who would listen? Who would believe them? Who really gives a fuck? After all, they’re mad, aren’t they?
    I counted the bricks and recounted them so many times, but it was never the same number. I tried to picture in my mind everything that I saw as I arrived: walls, gates, doors, drainpipes. I thought of a way to escape. I didn’t like this place and I didn’t like the stigma that went with it.
    I was on Ward One of Somerset House. All the new inmates went on this ward to be put through psychological tests. An assessment lasts for anything from three to six months.
    As I lay in my cell, I heard a tannoy announcement: ‘Will Ronnie Kray please go to the office.’
    I knew Ronnie had come to Broadmoor from Parkhurst only a short time before, but obviously I never knew he was going to be on my ward!
    This put a smile on my face. Half-an-hour later, another message came over the tannoy: ‘Will Colin Robinson please go to the office.’
    Robbo was sent to Broadmoor for his ‘unusual ways’. I couldn’t wait to see them both again.
    The staff came to my cell for a chat. They said thatRonnie and Robbo were both settled and doing well and were soon to be allocated their new wards.
    Strangely, I was excited on my first morning inside Britain’s most notorious madhouse. Sure, I had to face facts. I was criminally insane. I was only 26 and I was desperate. I had been caged for almost five years and I had lost everything. I truly felt that I had nothing else to lose. Maybe I was mad and deserved to be in a cage but there was no way I would go along with their mental games.
    I knew from day one that I would be a lion. They knew they would have to tame me. It was going to be a long battle and, admittedly, a battle I could never win.
    That first night’s sleep was a strange one. I woke several times. On one occasion, I could hear screams; some poor sod was having a nightmare. It was a restless night.
    I was too excited to sleep. Tomorrow I was going to be allowed up to see Ron and Robbo!
    In the morning they gave me a mug of tea, porridge and a bacon sandwich. They told me that I’d be slopping out later, after all the others, and then I had to collect my new clothes from the stores. I was excited; I told them not to keep me waiting! After breakfast, I walked up and down my cell. I soon got fed up so I lay down on the cold floor and started to bang the door with my feet. They arrived with my clothes.
    They led me to the recess where I was allowed to empty my pot. I was given a clean towel, soap, toothbrush and, to my amazement, a safety razor. I shaved myself for the first time in a year. It felt great! And it felt really good to be trusted with a razor.
    After my wash and shave, I got dressed in my new clothes. I felt human again. The time had arrived … I was led to the day-room. There, facing me, were 24pairs of eyes. It only took me a split-second to find the two pairs I wanted to see. Ronnie came straight over and gave me one of his firm handshakes and a friendly hug. Then Robbo did the same. At that moment I felt elated – on top of the world!
    Ron had lost weight. He had been through a bad spell at Parkhurst. It is no secret that Ron was a paranoid schizophrenic. He could become violent, but Parkhurst had never helped him. I know about Ron’s final few months in Parkhurst. After nine years there, they certified him mad. He suffered. He’d been in the same evil room as me – the silent box. The same evil room that drove me mad.
    Robbo looked his usual self. He had recently recovered from his latest swallowing bout.
    They both gave me tea bags, biscuits and chocolate. Ron’s locker was jam packed with tins of salmon and tuna. He knew how to eat well, even inside. And when Ron ate, his pals ate! He looked after his own – a good-hearted man.
    We all had a good chat; we had lots to talk over. I hardly noticed the other