Oriol Junqueras, notably thinner, wrapped up warm (sleet is falling outside the prison and its surroundings are covered in a fine layer of white), smiling, is the second in a line of prisoners with previously organised visits at Estremera prison. He goes straight to booth number twelve. He picks up the phone handset and starts talking with the energy of someone with few doubts over the steps they have to take, the strategy they have to adopt, the role which Esquerra, his party, has to carry out, the composition of the new Board of the Catalan Parliament, the investiture of the new president, his disposition for this new stage in Catalonia.
Seventy days have passed since that Monday 30th October when he collected his things from the Economy Ministry on Barcelona's rambla Catalunya which doubled as the seat of the Catalan Vice-presidency. That afternoon he'd been seen for the last time in one of the rooms in the basement of Esquerra's headquarters on carrer Calàbria whilst the party's executive committee met on the floor above. They were tense hours. That morning, president Carles Puigdemont had revealed his arrival in Brussels, the city where he planned to stay with a number of members of his government to avoid being arrested.
Two things were worrying Junqueras that day: the internal consensus and, if he went to prison, his family, especially his two young children. In that cold booth in Estremera, through a window, with some difficulties hearing and under the constant watch of a prison guard checking that we were following the rules, the vice-president remains worried about the same things. Also not far from his mind is his appearance before the Penal Chamber of Spain's Supreme Court on the 4th when he was again refused bail.
"The worst night was the evening before Three King's, not Christmas, nor New Year's; none of all my nights in prison approaches the loneliness of the 5th", he says with evident nostalgia. In many Catalan households it is still the three wise men, not Father Christmas who bring the presents. Not far away, in booth number 3 is the acting Interior minister, Joaquim Forn. His sister and brother-in-law have come to see him. Junqueras and Forn have been sharing a cell since their fellow ministers Carles Mundó and Raül Romeva left Estremera. The two speak well of each other. They help each other, clearly. And they encourage each other. That's clear too. Most probably, they both think the same thing: the other needs them more.
It stands out strongly how he can be so up to date with everything happening with the little information he receives. His team has specific instructions and he expects specific replies. Nobody should be side-tracked. The view is fixed on the Parliament, the government and the municipal elections in Spring 2019. Nobody in the offices, all the candidates in the streets, that's his recipe for making a breakthrough in mayors and town councillors.
There's no bitterness when he speaks. But if he's hurt by anyone, it's by PSC. It's not political, it's something deeper, having to do with the limited empathy they've shown towards the prisoners' situation. It's hard for him to accept that their political differences have reached such extremes. "How can they not even have a humanitarian reaction", he says slightly quieter, as if to himself.
Addressing three members of his party of maximum confidence he repeats the basis of "Junquerian" politics: "We have to be ever stronger; more positive and less negative". Sergi Sol, Raül Murcia and Isaac Peraire, the mayor of Prats de Lluçanès, have heard it hundreds of times before. A layperson is constantly surprised by how foreseeable Junqueras makes politics. "We shouldn't be scared of making long-term investments", he says whilst his party colleagues nod in agreement.
He wants numbers and more numbers about the Catalan economy, tables with which to be able to write articles and show off almost two years of frankly good management. The numbers are out in the open, although he knows that when it comes to mutual understanding with business people, ERC still has a long way to go.
And the future? He's under no illusions about being able to leave prison immediately, but believes that he'll be able to attend the opening of the new Catalan Parliament on the 17th. "On the 17th I'll be there; if I can, of course." And after that? He doesn't know, nor does he want to think just about that. Doubtless, in the coming months he'll be where he has to be. But to know where that is, he'll have to wait a little longer yet.
His final thought is about how he spends his time in prison, between books, cards, sport (even a bit of tennis) and time in the courtyard. "Time goes by quite quickly, but here everything is very slow and many things happen." A bell warns that five minutes are left, meaning 35 have already gone. He looks to Brussels, to Barcelona, to other parties: En Comú, CUP. Quick and to the point. A second bell means that our time is over and seconds later nothing can be heard through the phone and it's impossible to send messages through the glass.
They leave the booths in the opposite order to how they arrived. Junqueras knows that later he will be visited by Joan Ignasi Elena, benefiting from his position as a lawyer, who was spokesperson for the National Pact for the Referendum. Forn is expecting acting minister Jordi Turull on Tuesday. The fixed smile he had entered the room with has left his face. Outside sleet is still falling without sticking, disappearing on the tarmac. Inside it's cold. The day is as grey inside and outside of this immense building, barely 10 years old.
And one still doesn't know, passing through successive security checks, why the two politicians (like the 'Jordis') are in prison. At what moment the state decided that, above all, what it was going to do with independence supporters was teach them a lesson.