PHILIP Raper's arms are covered in tattoos. There's the roaring head of a tiger at the top of his right arm and further down, a Native American Indian next to an attractive cartoon woman.

But it is the colourful tattoo which dominates his left shoulder - his most recent addition - which is the most eye-catching. It features a creature with the body of a bird and the head of a man, sitting behind bars. The script around it reads: "One day the birdman will fly... never doubt it".

Philip is sitting in his neat front room next to wife Clare, his shoulder exposed. "I'm going to have lots more done on my back," he says, pulling up his vest strap. "It's about showing support for Charlie, isn't it?"

Philip and Clare believe "Charlie" to be a generous, intelligent man who has been let down by the British justice system. The majority of us know him as Charles Bronson, one of the most notorious prisoners in the country, who has a penchant for hostage taking and attacking prison guards.

The couple started writing to Bronson seven years ago. They had read one of his autobiographical books and wondered if he would send some of his artwork so they could raffle it for local school funds. Within three days, Bronson replied and included one of his distinctive pen and ink drawings. Clare, 37, wrote again, this time to thank him, and it wasn't long before they were swapping letters, birthday cards, Christmas cards and phone calls. Now, even ten-year-old daughter Lilli chats to him on the phone.

"I write to him about anything and everything," says Clare. "He likes to know about normal things which are going on in the outside world. Some people say 'aren't you scared, going to see him?', but what have we got to be scared about? It's about time people knew the real Charles Bronson. He's not a monster, he's a warm-hearted, kind, intelligent man."

Clare keeps most of his letters in a plastic wallet by the sofa and the pair have his distinctive pen and ink drawings in frames around their terraced home in Darlington.

Both Clare and Philip, 51, have had Bronson's designs tattooed on their shoulders in support of their friend. But despite their glowing endorsements, neither can deny that Bronson has a violent past.

Born Michael Peterson in Luton, Bedfordshire, he changed his name to that of the American film star Charles Bronson by deed poll.

A former circus strongman, he was first jailed in 1974, at the age of 21, when he was sentenced to seven years for armed robbery. But it is the incidents inside prison which have led to him serving 31 years behind bars - 28 of them in solitary confinement. These include attacking prison officers, being involved in prison sieges and taking people hostage.

His demands during one episode, when he held three prison inmates hostage, included a helicopter and a cheese sandwich. (The helicopter was to get him to Cuba, the cheese sandwich in case he got hungry on the way.) The siege ended after he slashed himself with a razor, but not before he had threatened to eat one of the inmates.

He was also jailed for life five years ago for taking Bridlington teacher Phil Danielson hostage during a siege at Hull prison in January 1999. During the siege, he tied a skipping rope around Mr Danielson's neck and tugged him around for 44 hours at knifepoint because the teacher had criticised a poster he had drawn about the disease AIDS. He was labelled "dangerous and unpredictable" by Judge Ronald Moss. Last April, he lost his appeal against conviction.

In between his outbursts, he has written a number of books, including a manual entitled Solitary Fitness, penned poetry, practised an average of 3,000 press-ups a day and raised money for several charities by donating his drawings. There is no doubt that Bronson has his supporters, people like Philip and Clare, who defend their friendship with him on the grounds that he is not a mass murderer, rapist or paedophile.

'People say he's a killer, but he's not a killer," insists Clare. "He has been violent in the past, but people have made him that way, putting him in restraints and leaving him and winding him up. He hasn't been in bother for five years."

When you hear Philip's experience of the justice system, you can understand why he feels so strongly about Bronson. His brother, David, was stabbed to death in the 1970s in a domestic dispute.

"The guy who did it got life but he only did six years and Charlie hasn't even killed anybody and they've got him locked in a cage," he says. "It's a human rights thing really, isn't it?"

During his time inside, Bronson has been moved more than 150 times. Philip and Clare are both unemployed and had previously been unable to afford to visit him at prisons in the south.

But two weeks ago, Clare met him for the first time, taking Lilli with her to Wakefield Prison in West Yorkshire. She says she was disgusted to find Ian Huntley sitting in the visitor's room, near children seeing their dads.

"How they can have him sitting there with loads of kids around is sickening," she says. "It's not right. Charlie's never killed anybody and yet they stuff him in a dungeon in the middle of the prison. His mum goes to see him, she's 76, and she can't even give him a cuddle."

Clare and Lilli had to walk along a maze of corridors with a prison guard before reaching Bronson's cell. They then went into an adjoining room, with a chair and table in front of a two-and-a-half-foot square gap in the wall. Peering through the gap,

Clare could see a security camera trained on Bronson and a few bits of gym equipment. She smiled at her friend, who was sporting his trademark handlebar moustache, and passed him a strawberry milkshake and a couple of cakes.

"It was like waiting for Hannibal Lecter to come in the way they had him locked up," she says passionately. "I was a bit... not nervous, but excited to be visiting him at last. When I passed him his drink, I felt like I was feeding an animal at the zoo. The whole thing is degrading for him and his visitors.

"He kept wanting to shake hands - I think it was because he's had so little human contact. I don't know how he's stayed sane in there."

Most mothers would be terrified at the thought of their ten-year-old daughter meeting a notorious prisoner, not to mention chatting on the phone with him as if he's a school pal, but it doesn't seem to worry Clare.

"He's never hurt anybody, he's never killed anyone and he's not a paedophile," she repeats. "Lilli thinks the world of him."

The couple are also keen to distance themselves from the types who write to serial killers or marry rapists. "People like Ian Huntley get fan mail, and that's disgusting," says Clare, shaking her head.

The couple concede Bronson, 52, did have an explosive temper, but they believe he has changed. "He's older, he's definitely more mature. In some of his earlier letters you could tell he was wound up, or sometimes you would go for weeks without hearing from him, only to find out they'd taken his pens and things away, but now he's happy. He's a lot calmer," says Clare.

Perhaps, one day, the birdman will fly, but how Bronson would cope on the outside having spent most of his life behind bars, and more to the point, in solitary confinement, remains to be seen.

Philip and Clare believe he will cope fine with his friends and family to support him and would welcome him into their home. In fact, they have already had a promise from Bronson.

"The first thing he says he will do when he gets out is send a taxi for us," says Philip proudly. "When that happens, we will put the flags out and celebrate."