WHEN Stephanie, 28, was jailed for two years for fraud, she envisaged serving the full length of her sentence behind bars alongside women who had committed similar offences.
Instead, she was housed with some of the country’s most notorious female prisoners, including serial killer Rose West, who was jailed for life in 1995 for murdering ten girls and women with husband Fred in Gloucester. Stephanie reveals what happened when their paths crossed.
SHAKING as she spoke, the small, plump woman in her seventies appeared visibly excited as she introduced herself.
‘You’re new?’ she asked, ‘I’m Jennifer, what’s your name?’ she added, leaning onto her stick to steady herself while she waited for my reply.
Before me was monster serial killer Rose West, who now goes by the name Jennifer Jones.
On the outside, I fit the profile of her victims. Was this her warped motive for such bizarre friendliness?
‘That’s a lovely name’, she answered when I gave her the information she’d asked for.
When I was jailed for fraud in November 2024, I wasn’t your typical criminal. I come from a good family and had a good job working in accounts, and was married with two young children.
We’d struggled financially, and when the opportunity arose to tamper with the books at the firm where I worked, I gave in to temptation, pilfering £30,000.
I was caught, and when the judge handed me a two-year jail term, I never imagined I’d be thrown into prison with paedophiles, terrorists and violent offenders.
I served the majority of my sentence in open and closed prisons and was on my final stint when, as an enhanced prisoner, which means I got perks like longer visits and better pay, I was moved to the Rivendell unit at New Hall women’s prison in Wakefield, West Yorkshire, where Rose West languishes, to serve my final three weeks.
When I walked into the complex, the first thing that hit me was the quiet.
In my 23 months as an inmate, there had always been noise – women fighting and arguing, doors slamming, keys jangling – but here it was different.
Rose was moved to Rivendell, named after the elves’ magical realm in J R R Tolkien’s fantasy saga The Lord Of The Rings, in 2019 after being threatened by fellow serial killer Joanna Dennehy after spending 11 years at Durham’s Low Newton.
Before that, she was housed at HMP Bronzefield, in Ashford, Surrey. A plot to attack her with a sock full of snooker balls was exposed and said to be the reason she was moved.
With thick rimmed glasses she’s easily recognisable and I saw her everyday at mealtimes.
Stephanie*
Rivendell is like soft play for prisoners, a nurturing environment with en-suite rooms and chickens the prisoners can tend to.
I suppose in prison terms, it was a sanctuary of sorts. Rivendell is like a prison within a prison and houses around 30 women in the grounds of the main building.
‘She shook with excitement’
It is light and airy, with most women having their own cell, toilet and shower facilities.
Some might say luxurious, with a heady mix of inmates.
The unit houses around 20 prisoners, all with personality disorders. There’s an additional ten who are serving time for low-level crimes, intentional because they’re seen as a calming influence.
The most notorious is Rose West. With thick-rimmed glasses, she’s easily recognisable, and I saw her every day at mealtimes.
I’ll never forget how she shook with excitement when she introduced herself to me.
During our chats, she told me she loves watching David Attenborough on TV in her 6x8ft cell, where she spends the majority of her time.
She told me her favourite animal in the film Madagascar is some kind of hedgehog.
She said if I had clothes which needed mending, then I should go to her because she enjoyed sewing.
If only Rose had stuck by that mantra back when she committed such heinous crimes all those years ago.
Stephanie
Whilst she queued with the rest of the inmates at mealtimes, she took her food back to her neat and tidy cell, filled with DVDs and boxes of her belongings.
Aside from receiving mail, she has no other contact with the outside world, and if she moves out of the unit, she’s escorted by two guards.
Bizarrely, other inmates traded their porridge with Rose for her cornflakes.
And it was during our final interaction, the day before I was due to be released, that Rose tried to instil a final piece of advice as she came to collect her porridge from my cellmate.
She said: “You never, ever want to spend your life in prison like me – and if you meet anyone that’s bad, you just make sure you run to the police.”
If only Rose had stuck by that mantra back when she committed such heinous crimes all those years ago.