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Cleanup Time - The Nikki Wade Retrial; Bad Girls Judge John Deed crossover fic
Topic Started: Aug 22 2007, 07:08 AM (13,914 Views)
Cassandra
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Thanks for another great update, richard. :)

This is one of the few stories where I've actually felt real sympathy for Trisha. Normally in fan fics she plays the jealous character who creates trouble between Nikki and Helen.
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richard
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Thanks ever so much for your post, Cassandra, and I found highly illuminating. You will like the way that Trisha is integrated into the storyline in later episodes. This next episode introduces a 'sub story' for the point of showing John Deed in action for those who have never seen the TV series. All the strands of the storyline will come together.



Scene Eight

Just when Claire thought that she would settle back into a humdrum life, she received a phone call from Jim Patterson, her senior partner to pop into his office.
“We’ve got a case fresh in which will be right up your street. It’s a rape case and as it is more of a woman thing, I thought you’d be the one to take it. Besides that, it’s a little bit controversial as the offender is well connected.”
What he really means is that he and the other men are squeamish and, if the case goes pear shaped, I’ll bear the blame, Claire thought cynically. .

Claire was a self-possessed woman, not given to displays of public emotion, but as soon as she met the mother and daughter, her heart went out to them, sitting tensely the other side of her table. She suspected that the file before her only told half the story. The mother’s face was written in lines of anxious worry and that sideways glance at her daughter never stopped, even when she faced Claire. Despite her makeup, there were dark smudges under the daughter’s eyes and her hands trembled and fidgeted as she talked. Her smart clothes, too, were only there to cover up her nerves.
“I’m Claire Walker. I’ve been assigned to your case but I’m here to help and advise you as best as I can. In order to do that I need to ask you to take me through what happened that night but feel free if and where you want your mother to help you out.”
“Isn’t everything there in the statement my Zoe made to the police? They interrogated her for long enough,” butted in the mother, with a dash of aggression.
“You must understand that written statements only take me so far. They’re phrased in police language. I want to hear your story in your words, not theirs. If you really want to go ahead with the prosecution – and there’s enough of a case- you’ll end up telling the story more than once.”
“It’s all right, mum, I have to do it,” came the soft reply from the daughter, as she sat upright in the chair instead of slouching in it. “Where do you want me to start?”
“From the beginning, Zoë and take your time.”
“I split up with my boyfriend a few weeks ago. We’d been having rows about him spending more time with his mates rather than me. Of course, I found out that he’d been seeing someone else, hadn’t he.”
“It hit her hard.”
“After a while, I’d had enough just watching the box and hanging round my bedroom. I was supposed to meet a couple of my mates at a new pub that one of us had heard of. I found myself outside on my own as somehow, I missed the phone messages that they had gone elsewhere as the battery on my mobile had run low….. so I found myself in a strange bar with nobody I knew…..”
Zoe Carson looked frail and young for her age as she hesitated and took a sip of the glass of water before her. It didn’t necessarily mean that she was thirsty.
“It was actually on the tip of my tongue to forget about it, to go back home but I didn’t want to. Someone tapped me on the shoulder and this nice fair haired, clean cut man smiled at me and started chatting me up. In no time at all, he bought me a drink and I felt great. My depression went straight out of the window. It was what I thought I needed.”
“Because of what Alan Partridge was like? What sort of impression did he make on you,” interjected Claire softly.
Zoe stopped to pause for reflection, a thoughtful expression on her face.
“He was real posh, very fresh faced, a bit like Prince Andrew or how I’ve seen him in the papers. He spoke with a public school accent. He didn’t look like the average lad you met in a pub. He was polite, considerate…or so I thought.”
“Were you attracted to him?”
“I…I don’t know. He was nice. I just wanted some company and he was good to talk to. I didn’t think anything more about that.”
“Can you tell me how he reacted?”
“I thought he was just playing it cool. That’s why I felt safe. He played everything cool in the way he talked about everything. He didn’t get worked up about anything.”
“So that’s how the evening went, just talking and drinking. Can you remember how many drinks you had?”
“I had four vodkas and tonics. Yeah, I’m sure of it.”
“How did you feel at the end of the evening, Zoe?”
“I felt happy, mellow, in control of myself, certainly not legless. No way.”
“So what happened next?”
“When we went out of the pub, he insisted he’d drive me home.”
“After drinking all night in a pub? How many drinks had he had?”
“He’d only had a couple. I remember that as I was so pleased that I’d not been picked up by some guy who was out of his face. I though it showed that he was responsible.”
“Did you think you ought to take a taxi home, that you oughtn’t to get into a car with a strange man whom you’d only just met? I’m sorry to ask this question but I’m playing Devil’s Advocate and asking you an obvious question you’ll be asked on the stand.”
The girl coloured slightly but otherwise retained her composure. Her mother squeezed her hand to comfort her and smiled slightly at Claire. That meant that she was being forgiven for her intrusive question and that her good faith wasn’t being doubted.
“I don’t accept lifts back like you say. I normally walk through town with my mates for safety’s sake and travel back in a taxi with them. First my mates didn’t show up after I hadn’t been out for ages. I’m young and going out is all what it’s about…..anyway, I suppose I agreed to get into the car was because I thought he was a gentleman. I thought that just for once, I was safe.”
Claire allowed a pause in the conversation. The girl was holding up well but she didn’t want to push her too far and too much.

“So what happened when you started to make your way back, Zoe?”
“If you mean, did we have a kiss or a cuddle along the way, the answer is no. He just asked me the directions to my house and we set off. We set off along the main streets in a straight line for home.”
“You’re sure of that?”
“Perfectly sure. It was only when we came up to a turn off to a well known ‘lover’s lane’ spot, a patch of woodland and high fences when he suddenly swung off down the lane. That took me totally by surprise.”
“How do you know it was a lover’s lane, Zoe? Is that from direct experience? This is an important question.”
Zoe blushed as her mother’s sharp eye was on her. Her eyes flickered round the room until a sudden resolution forced out the confession.
“I used to go there with my ex-boyfriend but not at once. I mean I knew him and, idiot though he is, I did at least know him enough to realize that it was safe. I don’t just throw myself at men. I’m not some kind of slapper.”
“You’re a good girl, Zoe. I always knew you were,” added her mother in soothing, reassuring tones. Strangely enough, that released the dam of tears that had been building up and her mother put her arm round her shoulders. A flickering look of gratitude was directed at Claire from Zoe’s mother for respecting her silence when the flood of tears dried up.
“You’re doing fine, Zoe. I’ve learnt far more about this case than I could ever hope to understand. I’ve got to come to the hard part of the story and I have to ask you to tell it but before you start, can you tell me if there was any change in his manner as he drove?”
“I , I don’t really know. I had the feeling when I talked to him in the bar that he was a nice reasonable guy. Suddenly, I found myself with this creepy stranger who wasn’t going to listen to me. I got the feeling of what he was after and wasn’t going to accept no for an answer. I started shouting at him that we were going the wrong way and to let me out of the car. He totally ignored me and sped down the lane right to the end.
It all happened so fast. He never said a thing to me, just ripped at my dress and…….He had his hand over my face …..He was so strong. There was nothing I could do about it…..”
At that moment, Claire twitched slightly. Those words had a real resonance for her. This was precisely what Sally Anne Howe had said in court, and before that when Claire had first talked to her. This account was distinct because the experience was more recent and this girl was so recently damaged. It made what she had heard from Sally that much more painful, even after that long heart to heart talk they’d had after the trial.
“I hurt down there when he had finished with me and only then did he speak.‘You don’t really think we weren’t going to have some fun and games, do you?’ he said in his coldest, most disdainful manner, as if what he did was perfectly reasonable. ‘After all, that’s what tarts like you really want. Come on, I’ll drive you home.’ He treated me just like a piece of meat.”
“Did you let him drive you home?” Claire said in tones of utter horror. She could follow this story as if it were on a TV screen. Everything made sense in its horrific way.
“I was too terrified to cross him. I let him drive me the half mile home, told him where to pull up as if he was the most reliable taxi driver in the world, stumbled up to the front door and knocked on it for all I was worth.”

Claire closed her eyes as the words trailed off. What had happened was too intense for her feelings to put it into words. It took her a while to switch back into professional solicitor mode of thinking and speaking. She had to do so to do the best for her client.
“Mrs Carson I was going to ask you a few questions. For a start, what sort of condition was Zoe when you first saw her.”
“I’ve never seen her in such a state in all my life. She was crying her eyes out and totally hysterical. As for the state of her clothes, well it was obvious what had happened. I had to stay with her in her bedroom for a couple of hours before I phoned the police and the ambulance. My Zoe is a good girl. She would never have got into such a situation willingly.”
Claire took a deep breath. She was fired up with the desire to push this case for all she was worth. This looked like another case for her and Marian Chambers to repeat their successful double act. The two women looked up at her with rising hope that perhaps their injustice wasn’t going to be shunted aside by the justice system.
“It’s all right. I believe everything you say and I’ll do my level best to help get this criminal put away. You have my word on it. I’ll keep in touch with you about the next step.”
A look of fear crossed both women’s eyes.
“We’ll take it a step at a time. You have to think this way if you want the justice you both deserve.”
Zoe shook her hand limply and her mother gave her a quick hug, Claire’s mind was buzzing. She jumped to it and was soon hard at work scribbling up her notes and committing this to memory. There was most certainly a case and her witness was credible. After she finished, she realized that she needed fresh air more than she ever had done. It was just as well that she checked her watch just in time to remember her lunchtime meeting with Helen.


She swung out of the office and her heels clicked their way to the nearby Starbucks to which Helen was approaching from the opposite direction. They swung into the café and chose a quiet corner.
“You look surprisingly radiant especially just before Christmas and I’m only half way through Christmas shopping. I suppose it’s leaving that ball and chain behind at Larkhall.”
“Partly, Claire,” Helen beamed back at her. “It’s just that life feels pretty good right now.”
Claire ran a close eye over her old friend as they ordered two café lattes. She hadn’t understated Helen’s well being to herself.
“I can only think of two reasons why you look on top of the world. You’ve got a partner who’ll actually be good for you or else someone’s left you a large fortune.”
“You mean you’ve never liked my ex-partners, Claire?” Helen retorted with a challenging gleam in her eye.
“Do you really want me to be honest about them?”
“Feel free,” Helen gestured with a broad grin on her face.” I’m making a new start in life and they definitely belong to the past.”
“Well,” Claire began at a slow leisurely pace,” they all had good looks and superficial charm but there just wasn’t any substance to them.”
“To be fair, the last one, Thomas was something of an exception….”
“I never knew him….”
“….but I can see now why I couldn’t settle for any of them.”
“And you think this time that things will be different. Instead of John, or Colin or Sean or Thomas, I have ….Nikki.”
“As in Nikki Wade,” murmured Claire automatically in a perfectly natural tone of voice. A fleeting mixture of anxiety and satisfaction on Helen’s expressive features had met her gaze and subsided into pleased relief.
“I always thought you were a dark horse, Helen. I certainly didn’t expect that one when you told me on the phone.”
“Are you bothered that I benefited personally from pushing the appeal when it was a cause that I absolutely believed was right?”
“I know you of old, Helen, and I’ve always trusted to your sense of judgment of what was right or wrong. Why else do you think I took your case in the first place? You were always one for causes and I know that you would have pushed Nikki’s appeal just as hard even if you weren’t lovers,” came Claire’s decisive reply.
A soft slow smile spread over Helen’s face, melting away that temporary anxiety. She liked the way Claire described them and that this was the first person she knew that approved of her union. The Starbucks café had that sense of wraparound intimacy of others chatting away over coffee. Her intimate confession was just one of the streams of conversations slowly wafting round the room like tobacco smoke.
“You’ve chosen well, Helen. Nikki impressed me what I saw of her. She has that very unusual mixture of feelings and strength and dignity about her. Yes, she is a big step up in the world by your standards, or anyone’s come to think of it. It gives me some faith in humanity.”
Helen caught that fleeting look of sadness in Claire’s eye. Normally she didn’t give that much away in her manner.
“What’s wrong, Claire?”
“It’s just that I’ve interviewed a client who was raped in a pretty brutal fashion. Her mother was with her trying to take away the daughter’s pain but of course she couldn’t. Some of my work makes me see the rough side of life, as I’m sure you’ll know from the Prison Service. It’s an occupational hazard.”
“Tell me about it, Claire,” agreed Helen in heartfelt tones.
“So hearing you being settled with Nikki gives me hope for the future.”
There was a real glow on Helen’s face. There was a lot about Claire that she hadn’t known before. She had hidden depths.
“It’s a shame we haven’t seen more of each other than we have in recent years. I remember that you got drawn into Sean’s crowd and then the Prison Service never gave you spare time, not the way you worked.”
“We could do something about the future if we want it. I’ve more time on my hands than I used to.”
“Perhaps you and Nikki care to come round for a quiet evening with me and Peter if that’s all right with you both.”
“That’s excellent. I’m sure Nikki would be delighted.” Helen beamed and even a rather tired, dispirited Claire was starting to feel whole again as she sat back in her chair. Then again, Helen’s company always had the knack of cheering her up.









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LahbibLover
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I said SIT IN THAT CHAIR
Richard


Loved the Helen and Claire conversation. Thanks for the quick updates.



brenda
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Cassandra
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Great update richard. Thanks.
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HOTCHPOTCH - A Helen & Nikki Story with a difference B) (click to enter)
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richard
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Great to see your continued support, Cassandra, Lahbiblover and others. Believe you me, your support and loyalty feels good to me.
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richard
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This scene pushes Helen and Nikki's story further on and is backed up by John Deed's 'normal' environment of trouble and strife aided by the fascinating minor character of Coope.

................................................................................................................


Scene Nine

Helen’s alarm clock rang shrilly out of their deep contented sleep to summons them both for the duties of their day. To Helen’s perpetual surprise, Nikki slid out of bed as promptly as Helen had. There was natural sense of consideration about her, which was new to her experience. She couldn’t help but make unfavourable comparisons with the way Sean always got in the way with all the time in his world which only wound her up all the more. They were just starting to settle into a new routine, of getting up and going to work and a completely fresh start for both of them.

Nikki looked in her part of the mirror as she, like Helen applied her make up. Everything she needed was set out neatly and compactly on her side of the dressing table. It came easily enough for her to share the space with Helen after three years of a bare rectangle of glass and her Spartan regime. Nikki promptly chose her favourite dark suit while Helen hovered indecisively which outfit to choose from. Nikki finally slid unobtrusively out of the bedroom towards the kitchen. Helen smiled to herself knowing that the other woman found it a novel experience going off to work for a regular nine to five job.

“Do you want a mug of coffee?” Nikki called out in her carrying voice.
That was a total novelty to her, Helen thought fondly, not to be chief cook, bottle washer and finder of various bits and pieces that she was supposed to know the location of.
“Yes please,” Helen yelled back.

They sipped their drinks in that portion of time they allotted themselves to be the calm before the storm of an ordinary day at work and then they set off for Helen’s red Peugeot.
Helen had quickly secured a well-paid job in the weeks after Larkhall while Nikki had had to devote all her efforts to getting a pretty mundane office job despite her hard won degree. It wasn’t quite what she was looking for though Helen was heart warmingly enthusiastic for this bit of success. It gave her what she wanted, a job where at least they would be working the same side of the day.

Helen sat back in her seat, more relaxed than she ever had been in working her way through the busy London traffic. Nikki maintained a companionable silence, happy for Helen to do the driving. She’d been cloistered away for three years and she felt that both her driving skills and her knowledge of the streets was going to be a little rusty and was content to watch the world pass by her window. They both had the feeling that they were out there in the big wide world. She looked at the red London double decker busses lumbering their way while upwardly mobile steel grey cars and the inevitable much larger 4 wheel drives proclaimed their superiority in looking down on everyone around them. Finally, they got to Nikki’s place of work and Helen gave her a quick peck on the cheek. Nikki shut the door to, watched Helen zoom off into the traffic and headed for the small flight of steps to the front door. All this was a new experience for her, and she felt as if, once again, she was the new girl on the block.

All the women wondered and speculated about their new boss. She was certainly glamorous enough and was forceful and decisive in work matters. Some of them tried to lead her into conversations and found Miss Stewart somewhat reticent about her personal life. Most women in the offices complained about the lack of help they got from their husbands and spoke at length about their offspring. The main topic of idle conversation were the soaps and how so and so was a right bitch and how much they fancied the new heartthrob on the block. All the celebrity magazines went on about what a hunk he was and they were right. The new boss kept up a glassy façade that responded nicely to everything but there was something different about her. They noticed that she didn’t have any rings in her fingers and didn’t chat about the same things as they did. The most that could be found out about her was that she once worked for the prison service but otherwise, she was a bit of a mystery. Some of the more inquisitive women were wondering about her, that there was something about her that they didn’t know.

The women who worked with Nikki Wade were quietly and effectively told that, no she wasn’t married, no she didn’t have children and yes, that she had a partner and yes, her partner was female. She wanted to get that out of the way to make sure that she wasn’t sailing under false colours. Speaking on a soft but determined tone, she explained that she was as content with her partner as they were with theirs and that, really, they weren’t that much dissimilar from each other and should take a relaxed attitude about her. She got out a small photo frame with a picture of Helen and propped it up at the back of her working area, at the side of her computer. Yes, they could see that Helen looked really attractive, they said with a curious blank look in their eyes. The dark haired woman wearing a smart black suit was considerably puzzled to hear them moan on about if only they knew what husbands are like. You can’t depend on them to do anything round the house and they have to do all the organizing, not that Nikki would know anything of course, they added tactfully. She refrained from asking why they got married in the first place and made soothing sympathetic noises instead. They had to admit that she picked up the job nicely and could be relied on to help out in an emergency, for example, if they had an awkward customer on the phone. She did have that way of quietening them down, they had to hand it to her.


John was taking his usual abstemious early morning cup of tea in his chambers first thing in the morning when Coope came forward with a suspicion of a sly grin on her face.
“Something up, Coope.”
“I’m pleased to tell you that the Partridge rape case is coming your way.”
John raised his eyebrows. The case involved the son of an important industrialist was one that was of considerable concern and potential to the establishment. His father was a colourful ‘rags to riches’ character who had risen to be one of the modern day wealth creating entrepreneurs that the present government favoured. True to form, his son had gone to the finest public school and had gained a reputation as a typical party going Hooray Henry. The unpleasant charge of statutory rape committed against a perfectly ordinary woman whose main weakness was an attraction to superficial charm promised to be controversial. John had made a safe bet that the case wouldn’t be coming his way but would go to a judge who was considered to have a safe pair of hands and true to form, the case had ended up with Judge Hulme. John’s suspicions were heightened when he had considered the suspicious run of uncontroversial cases, which had left him with plenty of time on his hands.

However, one of those quirks of fate had intervened and he had been taken ill and it meant that the workload would need to be shared round.

“May I ask you how you come to know this?”
“Oh, I went and fixed it with my friends in the listings office before anyone else could interfere,” she said in perfectly nonchalant tones. It was as if his own passionate desire for justice had permeated into the mindset of the apparently solidly conventional middle-aged woman who worked for him. The reality was that she operated in defence of John with all the imperturbable subtleness of a modern day Jeeves.
“I’m sure that you’ll give that poor woman the justice she’s entitled to and that dreadful spoilt brat a lesson he deserves,” she added just to make her purpose unmistakable.
“Why am I surprised to hear that you have made such an arrangement, Coope?”
“You shouldn’t be, judge. You should know me by now. After all, I’ve worked long enough for you.”
The suspicion of a wink and her perfectly pitched answer answered him well enough. He should have expected it as he laughed to himself. For all that, he wondered just how long it would take before the establishment would get to hear of it. He suspected that it wouldn’t take long and that he should prepare for unwelcome company.

Sir Ian turned red in the face and clutched the expensive fountain pen, which was a gift from his aged aunt. Somehow, it had survived the periodic internal rages that he was subject to when things went wrong for him. While his patrician, inexpressive background had emotionally stifled him, there were moments when his feelings bubbled to the surface.
“Can I have an explanation of how Deed of all people was ever allowed to get his hands on the Partridge case, one which required sensitive handling?” he snapped at Lawrence James. At moments like these, Sir Ian found Lawrence James a handy object to kick at in his rage. It then became only a matter of time before Lawrence James did precisely the same to a particularly ingratiating underling. This was what they were made for, after all.
“Surely there can be weightier cases for Deed to be involved with which will occupy his time more fruitfully? Arrangements could be made, surely.”
Sir Ian glared down at his junior who clearly didn’t see the urgency of the situation.
“You’re deceiving yourself. We’ll go over to him to confront him on the matter ourselves.”

John was carefully examining the file in the peace and quiet of his chambers when the door was suddenly pushed open. Without glancing sideways, he knew who the visitors were. He turned slowly and motioned them to take their place on his sofa.
“Might I have a word of your time, John?” Sir Ian said with tight-lipped politeness.
“Cup of tea?” John offered, as Coope slid forward, trying to avert her gaze.
“Please.”
John sat back in his armchair with the suspicion of a smile on his face waiting for Sir Ian to place his cup and saucer to his side and commence hostilities.
“It has come to my attention that you have acquired the Partridge case by certain underhand subterfuges.”
“Exactly what are you referring to, Ian?” John answered in amused tones. He would lay easy money that the pair of them wouldn’t have the hard evidence to back up their suspicions.
“What makes it worse is that the case needs a certain delicate handling. The family concerned is somewhat in the public eye and the press is bound to make a meal of the case. The case will inevitably give rise to a lot of emotional attitudes which are not helpful.”
“When the victim concerned is the sort of young woman who could be anyone’s daughter or sister, such feelings are quite understandable.” John replied in his smoothest tones. Coope managed to suppress an appreciative grin with the greatest difficulty as she retired to her own desk.
“You must admit, you are not the safest pair of hands, especially with the real danger of cheap headlines.”
“You know very well by now that I shall rigidly enforce appropriate restrictions on press reporting to the very letter. I shall see that justice is done without either fear or favour,” came the prompt answer with clicking precision. “The file is on my desk as we speak and you know very well that it is as good as in front of me in court.”
“It’s all very well for you to make lofty pronouncements but it is we, at the Lord Chancellor’s Department who have to deal with the press,” sneered Sir Ian, visibly rattled at his lack of success.
“I’m sure the government press machine will rise to the challenge. Besides, this case will be more of a challenge than the run of the mill cases which have come my way.”
“I had hoped that I could appeal to your sense of decency and responsibility but it clear that I was being over optimistic,” Sir Ian said in the tightest of voices.” I shall not take up any more of your valuable time.”
He promptly stood up, Lawrence James moving in unison and glaring at Coope’s back. They swept out of the room and out. John sipped the rest of his cup of tea while Coope moved in his direction to clear away, the faintest of smiles wreathing her face. It was an ordinary day in John’s world.






























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Emms
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hey, great chapter. Loved Nikki putting out Helen's photo. :) nice one.
I registered at G Wing and all I got was this lousy tshirt.

“After my time at Larkhall, I deserve to take it easy for a long, long while. I’ve been there, done it, and worn the bloody T-shirt..."~ Helen in: Unfinished Business by Richard

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ali baba
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Nice update Richard, you are weaving John Deed and Bad Girls characters very well. I particularly liked your reference of Coope being a modern day 'Jeeves'. The dialogue is good and I can visualise them saying the words. Well done keep the updates coming.
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Cassandra
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Another great update, richard. Thanks! Yes, you are managing to weave all the separate strands together nicely which isn't an easy task by any means. Love the subtle character differences between Nikki & Helen. Very apt!

Think you missed the very brief discussion of Nikki's degree where we concluded that she had completed a number of modules (at least 2) rather than an actual degree. Note NOT a criticism, just thought I'd comment in passing!! :)
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You can't control destiny ... but YOU can control this storyline ... by writing a para!
HOTCHPOTCH - A Helen & Nikki Story with a difference B) (click to enter)
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richard
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Great responses from you all, and especially that you are all picking up on the little details. It feels especially good that the fic as a whole hangs together and the dialogue can be 'heard.' I've realised, too late that I'd goofed about Nikki's degree- Cassandra, I've sent you a PM.
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LahbibLover
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I said SIT IN THAT CHAIR
I really like your observations about Helen and Nikki's relationship. At home they really work well together. At work Helen really can't be out but Nikki sure can be. Love the picture of Helen on Nikki's desk. You have captured both of their personalities quite well. You've put a lot of thought into the whole story.

cheers,

brenda
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terriw1979
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Terriw1979
i agree with what brenda said - great writing :D
terriw1979@hotmail.co.uk
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richard
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Thanks, lahbiblover and terri1979 for your feedback. I'm posting the next part and I've used Nikki's developed capacity for self control and Helen's capacity for soothing sympathy as in the interaction with Monica in Series 1,



Scene Ten


It was the Saturday before Christmas. Both Helen and Nikki had spent the last week doing last minute Christmas shopping. So much had happened in their lives in the past month that the seasonal events had taken a back seat for both of them. It made them both search in their minds for those people they knew that weren’t normally around. In the middle of this came a total bolt from out of the blue, the reappearance in their lives of Nikki’s parents, which were heralded by a phone call earlier in the week.

“I still don’t believe it,” Nikki repeated herself again with wide-open eyes. “I’ve had no contact with my parents for years, not since I was thrown out of boarding school. What in hell can they want?”
Helen wasn’t sure what to say. Her own background didn’t give her the necessary sympathetic detachment of perspective that she wanted to give. There wasn’t much to choose between a Scottish Methodist minister and a Home Counties naval captain and his wife for tolerance and understanding.
“There isn’t much I can say, Nikki,” she confessed frankly.” They must have read the papers about getting out on appeal. That must have been a total surprise. Just how good are they at dealing with surprises?”
“Not very good,” came Nikki’s short reply. ”My father thinks along straight lines, everything in its rightful place. He wouldn’t get his head round it far less come and meet me.”
“Do you want me around when they come?”
“Of course I do. I want you here to stop me going into a complete blind panic or shoot my mouth off and say something I’d regret.”
“Good. Well that’s settled.”

The flat was as silent as the grave as the time ticked by at a funereal pace to the expected time of arrival. Nikki was visibly nervous as she fidgeted about, fluffed up cushions and adjusted her makeup. Helen tried to be a calming influence but wasn’t sure that she was doing very well.
“There’s one good thing. They’re always punctual. It comes of commanding ships all his life,” joked Nikki nervously. Finally, a smart tat tat tattoo resounded at the precisely appointed time. As Helen opened the front door, a dapper man, dressed in a smart blazer and immaculately creased trousers hove into view. His wife stood to one side and a little further back, a colourless woman, dressed in an appropriately Older Woman’s coat and flowered hat. Nikki concluded with one sideways glance that she hadn’t changed over the years. In this sudden pause, Nikki and her father both looked at each other with amazement. Through Nikki’s eyes, he had become much more lined, grayer haired and had lost a little of his all-powerful dominance. Through his eyes, he had expected the same angry truculent teenager he had last seen. This woman’s manner was quieter, more sophisticated and yet more self-possessed. It struck her father that he was facing a woman in her mid thirties and not a sixteen-year-old teenager. In Helen’s eyes, the physical resemblance between the two of them struck her immediately.
“Ah, Nicola.”
“Hi, dad,” came the tentative answer before she collected her wits. “Come on inside.”
There was a fraction of a pause before they shuffled inside to the living room without a word being exchanged. There wasn’t a meeting of either eye or mind. Who would make the first move?
“Can I take your coat, Mrs. Wade?” Helen volunteered with her brightest smile, remembering her education in polite conversation.
“Thank you,” came the stiff reply.
“I expect you’re wondering why we’ve come to see you after all these years, Nicola.”
“The thought did cross my mind,” came the guarded reply.
“You know how set in my ways I am.Your ways aren’t mine, as you know very well. Once I make up my mind, I stick to it.”
“That doesn’t mean that we can’t talk if we both want it,” Nikki persisted with quiet assurance. Inwardly, her anger at her father’s harsh description of parental neglect but she bottled it down with that patience that she had acquired over the years. Her own life had changed so drastically in this last month so why shouldn’t the relationship between her and her parents?
‘I’m sorry,” she continued as she became aware of Helen’s presence at the side of her and less fixated on her parents. ”I’m forgetting my manners. I’d like to introduce you to Helen Stewart. She’s my partner, in case you hadn’t guessed.”
“Hiya,” came Helen’s enthusiastic greetings as she offered a firm handshake.” It’s a pleasure to meet you. It’s obvious to see you that you’re Nikki’s parents.”
“Nicola, if you please,” Nikki’s mother said stiffly,” That was what she was christened.”
“You know as well as I do that I changed my name decades ago. That was an old battle. It seems strange to hear me called anything different.”
“Not to us it isn’t.”
‘OK, you make a fair point so let’s have a compromise. To Helen, I’m Nikki but to the both of you, I’m Nicola. I can live with being called both names at the same time.”
Her parents were dumfounded by Nikki’s smooth adroit verbal footwork. They had both anticipated the conversation ending up in all out warfare and the wind was clean taken out of their sails. They had been used to teenage tantrums, not firm diplomacy. It made her father start to seriously engage with Nikki as she now was.
“Be that as it may, we thought we ought to come and exchange Christmas presents.”
The dry formality of tone was an utterly surreal experience to Nikki who had shopped for two strangers and her nerveless fingers grasped at rectangular shapes wrapped up very neatly in traditional Christmas wrapping up paper. They felt like either makeup or perfume and she handed over her version of a couple of books she had found which she vaguely thought might suit their interests. He father coughed in an embarrassed fashion and continued, as if as an afterthought.
“We also wanted to tell you that we were impressed by what we saw of you on the news. You weren’t the same girl we knew so we thought it was high time we came to see you.”
“I..I don’t know what to say……” Nikki started to say. The situation was beyond her.
“Do you both want a cup of tea after your journey,” Helen intervened with perfect timing with her best drawing room manner. Nikki couldn’t repress a tiny half smile of affectionate amusement and her father found his resolutions wavering.
“That would be excellent. Milk and one sugar for me and milk only for my wife but not too strong mind you.”
Helen bustled away in the kitchen to bring everything through on a tea tray she dug out of the recesses of the pantry. Don’t be away too long, Nikki thought, not believing that she was out of the woods by a long way. Dear me, Nikki’s father murmured to herself, this is starting to feel perfectly normal after all.

“It took a lot of hard work to get me out on appeal, believe you me. So much of it was down to Helen for the case to ever get to court. She got me onto an Open University degree course in English and, as we speak, I’m waiting for the results. She was wing governor at Larkhall.”
“It sounds all very meritorious but, seeing that you have both ended up here, it strikes me that she must have compromised her position somewhere along the line.”

“I assure you, Mr. Wade, that in all the time I worked at Larkhall, I did my duty as a complete professional. My feelings for Nikki were kept completely separate except for one lapse. It was this lapse that meant that I was railroaded out of Larkhall by a prison officer who should have been sacked years ago for his offences against vulnerable women in his charge. That’s what you heard Nikki talk about. The reason why he’s still there is that he is the most dangerous ‘cover up’ merchant that it has been my misfortune to ever meet,” Helen declared in ringing tones.

Paradoxically, the still strained ultra polite conversation was tilted on its axis by Helen’s outburst. Mr. Wade smiled with approval for the very first time since they crossed the threshold, followed by Mrs. Wade. A distinct warmth of manner emanated from them for the first time.
“Duty? That’s not a word I hear much of these days. Nicola’s absence has spared her hearing me holding forth at regular intervals how the country has gone to the dogs. You are making a very bold claim and, strangely enough, one that convinces me. Just where does your sense of duty come from, if I might ask.”
“As the only daughter of a Scottish Methodist minister,” declared Helen. In her mind, she replayed her words, dazzled by that sudden revelation. Of course it’s obvious. How could she have overlooked that connection for all these years?
“You see, Nicola, we can’t be expected to easily approve of your lifestyle but I must say that your friend has spirit.”
“Dad, we’re not expecting you or mum to approve of gay women in general, become New Age converts in the officer’s mess…..”
Her father chuckled at Nikki’s wit. He had never seen that side of her before. In turn, she was starting to tune into the stranger before her who was certainly not all bad.
“……but just to accept us as we are.”
“I’m a died in the wool conservative, having served Queen and Country for years. So are all my friends who are all born and bred the same way. You are asking a lot of us to be straight and above board with two sets of people.”
What really disconcerted Nikki was that her father was showing unexpected debating skills. She realized that she was going to have to roll with it and work hard to top that one.
“You should get a more diverse circle of friends, dad, It’s never too late to change.”
“You never give up an argument without a struggle, do you, Nicola?”
“Well, you must know where I get that from.”
“We always thought that you would make the perfect match in our tight knit community.”
“Should you be greatly surprised when you think about it? You always thought I was a bit of a tomboy when I was little. I was always climbing trees instead of playing with dolls.”
“I always wanted you to make me a proud father.”
“Well, I’m proud enough of myself and who knows, you will be. I worked hard to became a businesswoman running a club. I hadn’t done badly till I ran across that policeman who I took out to stop him raping my then partner. Just you wait and see what I now do with my life now I’ve come out of Larkhall. I’ve managed to get a job. It’s not great but it’s a start.”
“You make Larkhall Prison sound like a high class finishing school, Nicola.”
“I won’t deny that I’ve had some bad experiences there but I learned such a lot about myself from being there as well. more than arranging dinner tables anyway. I think I’ve come out the stronger.”
Helen couldn’t help but grin as she saw father and daughter start to lock horns in verbal combat and detected the lurking respect and affection between them. She noticed that her mother was left on the sidelines and suspected that this was the pattern of family relationships , way back when.
“Can I take you for a tour round the garden and the flat, Mrs Wade? Nikki and your husband have made themselves thoroughly at home.”
The other woman accepted the offer eagerly. She made a bee line for the garden which had relapsed down to its normal winter condition and she pottered round, looking closely.
“Are you a keen gardener, Helen?”
“I’m hopeless,” admitted Helen frankly.”Nikki’s the keen one. I know that she has big ambitions for next summer. I’ll leave her to it apart from being her assistant.”
The other woman was pleased by the news and it loosened her up to talk. Her conversation came out in a great stream, as if she had dammed it up for years. They strolled round the garden as she talked and Helen made the odd interjection. The fierce December cold bit into their skin but neither of them noticed.
“…..Nicola has always been the apple of my husband’s eye… she was always quicker and brighter than John who has been a fine son, mind you. He has always done what we expected of him. He couldn’t help but be jealous of her as they grew up so when Nicola got into trouble at school, he was happy to side against her. A lot of her school friends had navy backgrounds so news traveled fast. My husband couldn’t stand the disgrace and we all shut her out of our lives and pretended she didn’t exist.”
“I understand,” Helen said automatically though her mind was struggling to comprehend the other side of the coin of parental rejection.
“He’s a solicitor with his own wife and two young children. He’s been ever so successful and has a nice house just outside Oxford. We normally visit them for Boxing day as we always do….”
“It sounds nice.”
“Your flat looks nice what I’ve seen of it. Perhaps we could look round?”
Mrs Wade is a bit of a hint dropper though perfectly harmless, Helen concluded as she led the way into their kitchen
“You haven’t got any plans for Christmas?” she enquired vaguely, peering at Helen for reassurance.
“This will be the first Christmas that Nikki and I will spend together and will be special. We wouldn’t want to get in the way of your arrangements but there are days after Christmas and other Christmasses to come.” Helen said firmly and reassuringly.
Mrs Wade smiled back in a reassured fashion. There was something soothing and almost maternal in the other woman’s manner. As they passed into the living room, two voices could be heard

“….and make sure you eat properly, Nicola. You always used to peck at your food. You need a good breakfast down you to set you up for the rest of the day….”
“I need to watch my waistline instead of getting all that cholesterol into my system.”
“All this modern obsession with dieting. You’ll do yourself no good in the long run.”
“You’re not getting any younger, Dad. You’re the one who needs to take care of yourself.”
“Nonsense, I’m as fit as a fiddle.”

“Have you two been carrying on the same conversation?” laughed Helen.
“More or less,” retorted Nikki with a grin on her face, echoed by her father’s approving nod.
“Donald, you remember that we’d arranged to drop in on John’s family to give them their presents. We’ve got a long drive there and back.”
It was obvious to Helen that Mrs Wade spoke with regret. This wasn’t some elaborate charade to willingly disengage them. She looked at her watch. It was remarkable how time had flown by.
“A pity. A promise is a promise as you know, Nicola….”he said with regret.” But you can be sure that we’ll come back, that’s a promise. I want to carry on where we left. I can’t let my own daughter beat me in fair battle. I would never live it down.”

The resonances of those last words passed them all by, unregarded. A much younger Nikki looked out at the world, with a wide-eyed grin and sparkling eyes. She made a vow that next time she met dad, she would counter his bishop’s advance with her sideways knight’s move out of nowhere. That would really show him.







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LahbibLover
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I said SIT IN THAT CHAIR
A lovely update Richard. Made me a little teary eyed and gave me a bit of closure to know that Nikki's parents dropped by for a visit with Nikki and Helen. You do have a way with words.

cheers,

brenda :hug2
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richard
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Bless you, Brenda (Lahbiblover). I'm glad that the scene in reconciling Nikki with her parents worked so well. The way of writing this scene was one that I picked out of thin air.
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