When they told me I was going to Silverwater I thought, ‘Are they really going to put me in with people like that?’ And I thought, ‘Are they really going to strip me and force me into the showers in front of everyone? Are they going to want to search me for drugs in all my private places?’

Just so you know, they did do all of that. They tested me for diseases and gave me some supplies, like a T-shirt and a tracksuit and socks, and they checked me for drugs but they’ve got it down to a fine art, so it’s pretty quick.

They asked me what I’d brought with me and that was something I didn’t get, that you’re actually allowed to bring things in when you’re on remand, even a TV if you want one. Then they took me down a corridor, with the doors beeping and clicking, because I was supposed to see a psychologist so they could find out if I was going to kill myself.

The psychologist told me I’d be going into solitary confinement for seven days and I said, ‘Why? I haven’t done anything wrong,’ and she said, ‘It’s the rules.’ And let me tell you now, if I’ve heard that phrase once since I’ve been in here, I’ve heard it nine million times . . . it’s the rules . . . it’s the rules!

Solitary confinement wasn’t too bad: just another beige room, like every other beige room in this place, with a steel toilet and a bed.

If you want to know what I was thinking, I wasn’t thinking about me, I was worried about Mark because he might act all tough when he’s drunk but it’s only when he’s drunk that he’s got any courage. Most of the time, he’s a pussycat, still a little boy like the little boy who was abandoned by his mum and punched up by his step-dad, and I knew he wouldn’t cope in prison.

I was asking and asking to talk to him, but they said it wasn’t allowed, and when I got out of solitary and got the right to have a phone call I said I wanted to make my call to Mark, and they said, you can’t call another prisoner. So I took it that Mark hadn’t got bail either.

After solitary, I went into the main part of the remand section, and because of the newspapers everybody knew who I was and a couple came over to make friends, but I wasn’t interested in making friends because I was thinking that I wouldn’t be in there very long.

They would be slumping down in the plastic chairs in the TV room, saying, ‘What’s on?’ and I’d ignore them.

I suppose I’d been on remand about three weeks when one of the corrective services officers – that’s what we’re supposed to call the guards here – told me I’d be getting a visit from the lawyer I got through Legal Aid. You’ll know who I got – it was John Barrett SC.