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| Cleanup Time - The Nikki Wade Retrial; Bad Girls Judge John Deed crossover fic | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Aug 22 2007, 07:08 AM (13,911 Views) | |
| richard | Sep 29 2007, 10:31 AM Post #76 |
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I'm sorry for that last point of yours, Cassandra. There is a moment of recompense for that further down the line. I'm really glad that you're enjoying the fic. This next piece neatly brings together the previous trial hearing and in particularly the very distant worlds of Neil Haughton and Nikki. The instance of political spite seems very believable to me in this modern world. I must also give credit to Norfolkpoodle for points made in Claire's explanation of the case. Scene Twenty After sleeping on the events of the last twenty-four hours, Nikki surprised herself to consider approaching Claire Walker as a done deal, mentally speaking. She went to work as usual, blitzed her way through the work before her and politely asked her boss for the afternoon off. Once that was sorted out, she went into automatic function to get her way through the morning. With something to focus on, she could mentally displace the rest of the office back to the background. Just before Helen was due to pick her up, her mobile rang. “I’m ready, Helen. I’ll be out the door in a couple of minutes.” She was highly conscious of the buzz of interest in just what she was getting up to this afternoon. Well, let them guess, she vowed to herself at the studiously blank faces that surrounded her. The exception was Tony who smiled at her and that she should enjoy the afternoon off. With her best blank smile mask on her face, she picked up her handbag, stuffed with the sheaf of rejection letters and headed out the door. “Come in. I’m so glad to see both of you again.” Claire’s soothing voice greeted them with an understated warmth that was all the more real for it. The two women sat together in the upright chairs provided. They both took in the feel of Claire’s office and liked it. The pictures on the wall softened the functional appearance of the room, as did her untidy profusion of law books and files. They were the tools of her trade. Nikki rapidly and precisely outlined her situation, helped considerably by the fact that Claire came to the interview with her friendship and so much background knowledge. “If I got it right, Nikki, you’re asking if being turned down in your recent job applications is either down to discrimination or is it likelier that your manslaughter conviction on your record might be at the bottom of it, right?” Nikki was taken aback by Claire’s observations. She had never liked to think that she’d been found guilty of a lesser conviction. In her mind, being set free meant that she was innocent and that the years she had spent in Larkhall were simply a mistake. She didn’t want to think where that line of thinking would take them as she sensed where it was heading. “This opens up two lines of investigation for me. One is the not very profitable one of investigating with your prospective employers what led to them turning you down. The problem is that anti discrimination legislation simply doesn’t cover this sort of situation and we’d be operating in the dark. We don’t know how many applied for the jobs concerned and what led them to appoint the successful candidates. They may simply have had more direct and more recent experience than you. Assuming that you’d applied for a step up in your employment, it would be very hard to get to the specific reasons why you weren’t chosen and to pin it down to discrimination. I’m sorry but I’m being strictly honest about the matter.” Nikki’s face fell at the way that Claire gently let down their hopes. She couldn’t fault the logic and her stoical instincts forced her to deal with the uncomfortable. Neither woman had really framed a specific strategy. They were both operating on an emotional drive to bust through the invisible barrier that was holding Nikki back. “Then what does this leave us with?” put in Helen. “That brings us back to the sentence of three years for manslaughter on your appeal. What you don’t know and what I’ve recently discovered is how much your case means in legal circles.” “Famous or infamous?” “In the circles I mix in, definitely famous.” “So how much hope does that give us?” came Nikki’s guarded question. “The appeal was essentially run on the basis that you were acting out of provocation by DC Gossard. It follows on that the original trial judge, Judge Jackson failed to direct the jury to this defence and was backed up by the proven failure of the police to disclose material evidence about DC Gossard. The problem with that is that it implicitly admits your supposed guilt and seeks mitigation. A much stronger case could have been argued that you were 'acting to prevent a serious injury to another', i.e. your then girlfriend who was on the point of being raped. This could be supported by the very convincing hypothesis that, if a wife were threatened with rape by a stranger and the husband stepped in to rescue her, he would be applauded as a ‘have a go hero.’ Somehow, this was overlooked where the brutal stranger was a policeman and that the defender is of the same sex as the victim. Now that sounds like a case of institutional discrimination if you like.” Nikki felt as if she was in the middle of a centrifuge with the world spinning round her. Of course it was blindingly obvious. How could she have failed to have spotted that? How could trained legal minds have made that mistake? Suddenly, amidst surging feelings of manic exaltation that rose within her, feelings of horror swept over her that, once again, she was about to hammer helplessly on the doors of justice. She had been through this movie before and, here she was again, about to go through the same nightmare of surrendering her future to the lumbering machinery of justice. For a second, as she shied away from that nightmare, she reasoned to herself that she might accept her lot in life and struggle on with her job, what there was of it. She was free, she didn’t have to put her through it all again. Helen sat anxiously next to her, gently stroking her hand. She felt every emotion that Nikki felt. She was undecided herself and didn’t want the one to urge Nikki to put them through that nightmare again. It recalled too many evenings writing and rewriting yet another draft in her attempts to petition the Home Office. “OK, supposing for the sake of argument that we get this show on the road, Marian Chambers is the obvious candidate as a barrister,” Nikki said flatly at last. “I’m afraid that this isn’t going to be possible. Just before Christmas, she’s moved to serve in the European Courts of Justice.” “Oh, wonderful,” sighed Nikki. That certainly put the final dampeners on her fast fading hopes. The whole thing became totally impossible now. “But I can think of a red hot human rights lawyer, Jo Mills. You know, the barrister who I worked with in that rape case I told you about.” “I need to think about this,” came Nikki’s agitated reply. She got to her feet and started prowling round the office in a restless fashion. “If Jo Mills secured a conviction against a young man for rape in a case which isn’t the most brutal case that there has ever been, someone who I can assure you on the best authority the establishment wanted let off the hook, then surely it is possible for her to secure your total innocence when you were acting in defence of a similar rape taking place. Doesn’t that seem possible? I’ve every confidence that the case can be run.” Claire looked closely into Nikki’s eyes and her soft and clear voice articulated every syllable very clearly and distinctly. Nikki felt that she was being gently backed into a corner. What Claire was saying was theoretically true but the sheer enormity of another court case frightened her. She had done it once before but that didn’t make the prospect any easier this time around. “Let me think over this one with Helen. One answer might be if we met Jo. It would help us finally decide. That OK, darling?” Helen saw Nikki’s rarely seen vulnerability call out to her. Her own role was clear enough. “We need to chew this one overnight and come back to you. There’s a lot that needs thinking over.” Claire let the two women go without securing a further appointment with her. She could see that they were dazed and needed time and space to emotionally catch up with everything. She watched them go, arms draped round each other. This was their natural gesture to hold on to each other. The establishment existed in a bubble that was increasingly cut off from humanity. Inside this elite world, politicians, useful contacts of industry, hangers on, political minders, PR men all cozied up to each other. Obsequious journalists provided protective coloration to them all so that their public image could be projected for public consumption in whatever ways suited the establishment. Party political broadcasts and public utterances was the public arena. It was all a charade, they acknowledged but it set them all up for life. The public would not therefore know how petty and spiteful Neil Haughton was. Such a moment was exposed right now. Some zealous underling who read the papers had done the right thing in referring a passport application to his superior. Fortunately, that superior did exactly the same and so on and so on. Right in his in tray sat the entirely innocuous renewal passport application by one Nicola Wade to Her Britannic Majesty’s Secretary of State to request and require her to travel outsides the boundaries of the United Kingdom. Instantly, his revengeful mind flared up he decided that that woman who had made a laughing stock of both his predecessor and the prison system, had even dared to slag off the latter on TV should get her comeuppance. She had walked free from prison for the heinous crime of stabbing to death an experiences serving policeman. After all, the man was working full stretch in being at the sharp edge of crime every day in his life. He owed it to himself in giving as much encouragement to the upholders of law, or so the party political broadcast unreeled itself in his mind to justify his actions. He wrote a note back to the underling to reject the passport application. After all, he wasn’t going to sign it himself, not when there were underlings who could do it for him. He chuckled to himself in pure malicious glee trying to picture what the trouble maker would think when she got the letter as the small portrait of the dark haired woman stared brazenly back at him. Life was difficult indeed with recalcitrant crime figures on the up and up and even more recalcitrant high court judges laughing in his face. His anger boiled up in him at troublemakers of all kinds. |
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| LahbibLover | Sep 29 2007, 01:52 PM Post #77 |
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I said SIT IN THAT CHAIR
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Wow Richard that was so well written and thought out. It could have been very dry emotionally but it wasn't. You do have a way with words. Lot's of emotion in the Nikki pacing, Helen stroking Nikki's hand and the two of them draping their arms around each other. So, Jo Mills is going to play a significant role this time around. I will miss Marian but it appears she has moved on to bigger and better things. Thanks again for a great scene twenty. brenda
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| Emms | Sep 29 2007, 05:09 PM Post #78 |
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I had to read the last two chapters twice in order to absorb everything I like the easy way Nikki/Helen are with each other, and your flow is very natural. The fender bender bit with Karen was a bit intense; I thought Helen was going to blow a gasket (pun? hmmm me like-y) when she got out of the car and saw the damage. lol *whimpers* ...not her precious Peugeot. Poor Nikki and those darn refusals... her self-worth was really taking a beating there for a minute, but Helen pulled out her we-can-do-this-you're-not-giving-up fighting spirit, and was able to be the strength Nikki needed in that moment. ETA: They've struck a good balance with each other and are able to be just what the other needs when the circumstances are beyond their control. Like with the accident and then with Nikki being turned down for the job placements. They've each had a turn to show their strengths and weaknesses. I can't blame them for not wanting to go through another court procedure, I mean, who would after what they've been through? It was good that Helen had sense enough to step in for Nikki and tell Claire that they'd take a day to process everything and get back to her. Great writing, Richard. As always, it's been a pleasure. xoxo Emms |
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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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| richard | Sep 29 2007, 09:01 PM Post #79 |
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That's great praise from you both and really appreciated. You both have a real eye for the little details I've aimed to make Nikki a touch more self controlled and Helen more able to work unobtrusively in the backbround and especially to create convincing reasons for Nikki to go for her reappeal. |
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| richard | Oct 1 2007, 07:16 AM Post #80 |
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In prefacing this post, I ought to issue a government health warning as this piece covers a wide range of moods. I am, believe it or not, distinctly squeamish about writing angst Nikki and Helen pieces and I go and follow it with the ultimate nightmare scene. What it is necessary is to bulk up the reasons why Nikki and Helen came to make their choice as to what to do. That being said, I couldn't let this do is to run it on to more than one scene Scene Twenty One The next two days passed by in a blur of battling through work, being blasted by the wind and rain as soon as they set foot outside the house. They chewed over Claire’s suggestion in a desultory fashion, none of their conversations making any sense. They were longing for the weekend as their special time of the week but that Saturday held a nasty trick of fate in store for them. They had slept late into the morning, both being tired out, neither of them hearing the postman slipping letters into the letterbox. Helen was the first to finally get out of bed to see what the outside world had in store. It was only when she had made two mugs of steaming hot coffee that she noticed the untidy pile of letters on the doormat. She smiled wryly at the obvious junk mail, which had cottoned onto Nikki’s new address. One brown official envelope caught her eye and she took it for Nikki to look at. As the other woman emerged sleepily with tousled hair into the light of day, a gleam came to her eyes. This was her reply to her passport application. It ought to be straightforward enough. Carelessly, she ripped open the envelope and took out the profusion of paper. Helen was alarmed to see Nikki shake her head and the natural light in her face was cruelly snuffed out. “No no, it can’t be,” she said in dazed tones.” Here, you take a look at the letter. I can’t be doing with reading all this bollocks.” Helen picked up the letter. She felt as if she’d been through this one before. It was even the same bed when she had last read bad news for Nikki, so many months ago. The long and short of it was that, in the typical smarmy jargon, they had refused her application only they wrapped it up in platitudes and declaration of zero tolerance of discrimination. “I’m afraid it’s bad news, Nikki,” Helen found herself saying.” They’ve refused your passport application.” “Bastards, bastards all of them,” Nikki mumbled, tears running helplessly down her face. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Helen murmured to Nikki, sliding her arm round her shoulder as the crumpled up letter with a Home Office logo lay in the corner of their flat where Nikki had hurled it. Suddenly, Nikki tore herself away and leapt out of bed as sudden anger flared up in her. She wasn’t going to take this lying down. She wanted to hit back at them somehow in ways that poured into her overheated mind. “We need a fresh start and that is out of this country to San Francisco, Helen. We need to get the hell out of here and go somewhere where we’ll be properly accepted.” “Fine but how do you suggest getting the means? Storm the Home Office and threaten the nearest person till someone gives you one. We need a proper strategy.” As soon as Helen uttered the words, she knew that the words, though well meant, were ill phrased. They had far too much of a management speak feel about them at a time when Nikki’s senses had just been assaulted by the Home Office on top of the refusal for her job applications. “Strategy, strategy,” Nikki exclaimed.” The bastards keep trying to hold me back one way or the other. I can’t get out of this country and travel where the hell I like. I’m a British citizen, for God’s sake and I’m entitled to travel. I’m stuck doing this lousy job I hate for the rest of my life. I’ll never get anywhere in life.” It disturbed Helen to hear Nikki talk exclusively of herself. Up till then, everything that went on in their lives had been theirs. She was trying to accept how Nikki was taking it personally but it was hard work and drained her own mental resources. She could do without all this, she thought wearily. “You’ve every right to feel angry. I feel bloody angry for you. You deserve better than this but we’ve got to fight this the right way.” “Fight, what do you mean fight?” Nikki lashed out in an argumentative fashion. “All right, Nikki, how about going for that reappeal, wipe off that prison sentence. At the same time, we take this letter to Claire and see what she makes of it.” “What’s she going to know that we don’t?” “We won’t know if we don’t try,” Helen said, her patience in her voice feeling strained. “You’ve still got that almighty faith in the system, Helen. You’re still that wing governor mentality that thinks that everything can be neatly administered and categorized.” “You’re talking absolute crap. The only way we’ll beat them is through the official channels. There is no other choice.” “For God’s sake, Helen leave me alone. Let me sort this out my own way.” “But you won’t deal with it,” pursued Helen with relentless logic while the tension between the two of them was ratcheted up, step by step, until it was Nikki who finally snapped. “Go to hell and stay out of my way,” shouted Nikki. Helen whirled on her feet and went out the door into the living room. Her body was trembling all over as the physical and mental tension that had been building up inside her finally overflowed. The rest of the day passed in an atmosphere of gloom. Neither woman could face talking to the other and they remained at opposite ends of the flat. Neither of them felt like doing anything particularly energetic. The winter night closed in outside. Finally Nikki slipped into the living room and without saying anything switched on the TV. They shared a fairly inconsequential film until they both finally slipped into bed All of a sudden, Helen found herself plunged into a world where she felt as unfamiliar as her surroundings. The fact that it was dark was not surprising, as she had passed through that time of the year when she set out in the dark and came home in the dark. She could relate to that experience. What she couldn’t work out was why damp fog swirled round her so that she had to strain her eyes to see. Her breath turned to smoke in front of her. What she could sense of her surroundings gave her the impression that her personal space she was circumscribed either side of her by the way ahead receded into uncertainty. As her feet trod the hard tiles under her feet, a faint aftertaste of the hard clicking sound of her heels echoed and reechoed away into the distance. What worried her deep down was that she felt hideously alone. She tried to fight those feelings with her customary practical determination to deal with the situation, no matter how threateningly Gothic her surroundings felt. She reflected on her feelings, trying to find a rational explanation for it. It wasn’t as she and Nikki worked together. The working week including lunchtimes added up to forty odd hours a week out of the eighty odd waking hours. While she was working, she felt perfectly calm and secure and those around her in her job had fortunately put her in the slot of ‘the exception to the rule which proves nothing’, that happy rationalization for encountering the out of the ordinary, the attractive looking woman of idiosyncratic topics of conversation whom every guy on the block would love to date but who persisted in living with another woman. No, her life was running smoothly, except for Nikki’s very real problems. It was only as she mulled things over that it was the strangeness of her surroundings that made Nikki’s absence worrying. She peered through the darkness and finally, the shape of a wall made a faint imprint on her senses as it slanted away into the murk. This was what she wanted, something that she could engage her senses with and figure out her bearings. As she drew closer, her leg bumped up against a solid object, about thigh height. Wincing with pain, Helen swore loudly into the echoing gloom and wondered why she hadn’t she noticed it in the first place. As she crouched down and stretched out her hands to examine it, it looked like a rectangular flat object, elevated several feet off the ground, covered with a soft flat surface. A very pronounced rim ran round it with the exception of the corner where a small net hung down. As she concentrated her mind on it, the concept of it translated itself incongruously into a pool table. That discovery lightened her mind briefly as the object that had attacked her out of the gloom was really the most prosaic object she could think about. She took her attention off it and looked closer at the wall. The appearance of it was different from her first impression, being closer to it than she had been when she first detected it. She could sense a series of doors of a slightly darker hue than the drab colourless look of the wall. There was something faintly familiar about it that she searched her memory for. As she thought, her deep-seated fears started to rise to the surface. Aside from the infernal fog, it had a disturbing resemblance to G Wing at Larkhall. That couldn’t possibly be the case, Helen’s powerful sense of reason asserted itself. She’d been at Larkhall, two, two and a half years and whoever heard of a prison that was as silent as the grave, no prisoners around, no prison officers, this overwhelming dark and fog that virtually blotted everything out. All that there was in the world was herself and a pool table. She drifted along the 1s, past each cell door, and hazy memories of the past were almost as solidly real as the fog bound wing. She knew better than any stranger that each cell door tells a story. She followed the line of the barred gates and strolled towards what she knew was the corridor. Even in this highly unpromising setting, she knew where her feet were heading. Her eyesight could just about make out the poster on the wall “Drugs- don’t be a victim.” It was in exactly the same place as it ever was since she had last worked here, always supposing that she had ever left this place behind. Still, there was a ghostly silence that cannot have ever existed since the prison was built. The natural sounds of prisons were cell doors clanging, night calls, prison officers yelling out their orders. Finally, one sound came to her mind. It was the firm deliberate tread of footsteps, too heavy and slowly paced to be a woman’s. Distantly, she heard a voice from afar call out. It gave the impression of being hugely projected to carry through the distance from where it came. She knew that voice above all voices she’d ever known. The footsteps were sounding louder and nearer all the time. “Helen.” “Nikki,” she heard herself yell back. Panic was rising inside her, freezing her bones. “For God’s sake, Helen. Wake up.” What was Nikki telling her? Was she urging her to open her eyes so that the fog would disappear and she could see as clearly as Nikki could? That was always her point of view in all the months she’d pursued her and urged her to throw away the point of view that held her fast and just let herself go. “Nikki, help me,” she called out. Looking desperately ahead, she came to the barred gate precisely as she expected, or remembered. She fumbled in her jacket pocket for the bunch of keys that she always carried as part of her very being. Feelings of desperation swept over her, as they weren’t there where they were supposed to be. She was trapped. Her skin felt clammy and her clothes stuck awkwardly to her. “You can’t expect your girlfriend to help you, Stewart. She’s locked up and there’s no one else here but the two of us. You know what’s going to happen,” she heard an evil voice, in the lowest guttural pitch imaginable. It could only be one voice, one person. Spinning round, she looked into the face of Jim Fenner. It startled her that she could see him clearly. His face was white, ghostly looking while fog swirled all around. He was grinning all over her face. Slowly, he moved forward. She let out an almighty scream. “Helen, for God’s sake wake up.” All at once a blinding light was in her eyes. Slowly, she focused her eyes and she was conscious of lying flat on her back. Her nightie was twisted all around her. Her hair was dishevelled and she realized that she was lying on her back, a corner of a white duvet draped over her feet. Looking down into her eyes was Nikki, her face twisted with extreme concern for her. She was holding her hand and gently stroking her forehead. Helen had never seen such a radiant, wonderful sight for sore eyes in all her life. She was out of that dark pit that had engulfed her and back into the light. It felt such a long time since she’d been here. “I’ve had a nightmare,” Helen heard herself say, weakly. “I should say so. You’ve been twisting and turning for the last ten minutes and calling out in your sleep. I’ve been really worried for you.” “I dreamed that I was back in Larkhall and cornered by Fenner.” Nikki shuddered. Instinct told her that this was the ultimate nightmare and must have been triggered by her temper tantrum the day before. No question, this was her fault entirely. “Helen, I’m really, really sorry I was such a cow to you yesterday. Everything I said the other day was a complete load of bollocks. When you were being your own sweet self, I pushed you away. What I said and did was totally unforgivable. All I am asking for is your forgiveness even though I don’t deserve it. I really have been a complete shit and I just want to do anything to make it up to you.” Distressed apology was written all over Nikki’s expressive features and in every tone of her melting voice. It was plain that she meant every syllable and a flood of emotion swept through Helen. “Come here, sweetheart.” The other woman flung herself eagerly into Helen’s arms and she tried to sooth away Helen’s distress with every touch of her fingertip and every little kiss of comfort. “This is going to be your special day, darling, as you bloody well deserve it. I shall completely pamper you and look after you. I mean it.” Nikki straightened and smoothed down the duvet and went off to the kitchen while Helen settled off back to lie in bed. Soothing sounds of domesticity came from the kitchen. Presently, Nikki returned with a tray with two archetypally Middle English ‘nice hot cups of tea’ and slices of toast and marmite. They settled back and ate and drank at their leisure. The sun gave his approval by smiling at them through the kitchen window and the part open door. “If you don’t mind me asking, exactly what did happen yesterday,” Helen finally asked in as level a tone as she could manage. “I just flipped. I’m trying to work out what in hell set me off as the way I behaved scares me……now I come to think of it, a lot of stress had been building up because of this job , the job refusals and finally this stupid passport business but there’s something more that I can’t work out. I know that the last thing was the straw that broke the camel’s back. It’s funny, I could never make any sense of that figure of speech when I was at school but as I’ve grown older, it makes sense. It was just the last straw. I promise you that I’ll never, never put you through all that shit again,” came Nikki prompt reply. She lit a cigarette and meditated thoughtfully as her mind searched for the truth. “I’ve finally worked out what was freaking me out. I was thinking what if I lose and get sent back to Larkhall? What if they increase my sentence….” Nikki gagged for a second as she uttered that hateful word,”….and I don’t get just five years or ten? I couldn’t bear being separated from you. I couldn’t stand it.” Nikki’s large brown eyes looked sorrowfully and soulfully at Helen. Her fear of losing was very palpable. “Nikki,” came the slow clear comforting almost maternal tones. She closed her eyes, let the remnants of her jangles fears dissolve away and lay down next to Helen. “I’m no legal expert but there’s something telling me that you can’t be punished twice for the same so called offence. I’d be happier with a qualified legal opinion on it.” “We’ll do everything you suggested yesterday, Helen,” Nikki said softly, turning round to face her.”…… that is, if you’re up for it. We’ll make an appointment and see Claire and Jo Mills and check that out and ask them about the passport as well.” Slowly and casually, the resolution came together. Nikki realized that, after all, she was as good as anyone at fighting her way out of a corner. She’d been doing it all her life and this time around, she had as true a friend as she could ever hope to find to help her with the battle. The rest of the day passed in a dreamy haze where Helen gratefully surrendered to Nikki’s incredibly caring qualities, both in word and deed. She was as good as her word. In some strange way, they both felt set free from their cares. It struck Helen that she had never had a lover who cared for her in such a demonstrable way. “You know what happens when couples kiss and make up,” Nikki said in her softest, sultriest tone of voice, raising her eyebrow. A gentle smile played on her lips. “I see that I’m really going to enjoy this,” Helen answered, not to be outdone. “It definitely will, if I have anything to do with it.” With that, Nikki looped her arms round Helen’s neck and kissed her softly and slowly. Soon, their clothes were scattered like leaves upon the bedroom floor and their fingers were free to delicately explore each other’s skin as they lay down on the bed together. Nikki’s lips and tongue gently and lovingly caressed Helen’s woman’s neck while her fingers delicately touched Helen’s round breasts. Their lovemaking had always been a delight both of the senses and emotions but, this time, Helen sensed that Nikki was making an extra special effort both to pleasure and reassure Helen. She shivered with delight as she felt those light and sure fingers trace a path down her belly while murmuring sweet endearments. She knew that Nikki never went in for the sort of pillow talk, which would be belied the next day. On the contrary, these were the moments of the truest expression of her feelings as that beautiful face hovered close above her. A cry escaped her lips as Nikki’s fingers touched that precise spot and her hips moved rhythmically as those fingers stroked her so surely and led her to her climax. It seemed that an age had passed when Helen’s breathing settled down to normal and Nikki lay on her side when her senses were delighted by that teasing Scottish accent that held her in her sway since who knows when. “It’s your turn, Nikki. Fair’s fair.” She could feel Helen’s body move around on top of her and that she would be true to her word. “It feels like the first time we slept together,” Helen whispered as they lay in each other’s arms, spent and exhausted. “Minus me hammering on your front door to get in and wanting us to go on the run to San Francisco. Apart from that, this is definitely similar.” Helen laughed at Nikki’s droll sense of humour. It was something that had attracted her “You aren’t going to have any nightmares tonight,” she halfway asked, her voice tinged with soft concern for her. Her own worries had been laid to rest and it was only fair that Helen would get some peace. The other woman stretched out the full length of the bed, a big smile spreading across her face. “You can take it from me that I’ll sleep the sleep of the just and righteous tonight.” “Then that’s good enough for us,” the answer whispered into Helen’s ear. |
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| zena | Oct 1 2007, 02:01 PM Post #81 |
I said SIT IN THAT CHAIR
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Bravo Richard! Great chapter I really enjoyed the careing shown by both women.
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| LahbibLover | Oct 2 2007, 04:16 PM Post #82 |
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I said SIT IN THAT CHAIR
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Richard as usual just a smooth and graceful piece of work. Just enough angst to make us worry but then thankfully everything great between them by the end of this piece. The nightmare was some scary stuff that really went along with the original Jim bloody Fenner story in Bad Girls. Very vivid wording, could really feel and see what was happening to poor Helen. You are one clever writer. Looking forward to the next scene. cheers, Brenda
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| richard | Oct 2 2007, 04:55 PM Post #83 |
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Thanks you guys for the nice words when I did have some qualms about this piece going public. There's plenty more to come. |
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| zena | Oct 2 2007, 11:32 PM Post #84 |
I said SIT IN THAT CHAIR
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Loverly chapter Richard! Enjoying your story a lot.
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| richard | Oct 3 2007, 08:05 AM Post #85 |
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Enhanced
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This is where the Bad Girls characters and Judge John Deed characters start to truly meet and I see them on the same TV screen. This is where things start to move. Enjoy. Scene Twenty-Two When the two women entered the office, Claire greeted them in her usual friendly fashion and indicated the tall, slim woman beside her. She wore a simple two-piece suit. Her intense blue eyes, friendly smile and firm handshake made her seem relaxed with herself along with an elegance and grace of manner, She made an immediately favourable visual impression on the two women. Claire sat at the head of the table and opened the debate in her quiet, incisive fashion. “So we don’t cover the same ground twice, Jo has already questioned me at length on everything that happened up to the appeal hearing that she didn’t know already. I thought that it would be best for you to talk to Jo Mills, the barrister who would be representing you if you decide to go ahead with the reappeal. It’s a good chance to discuss the case and for everyone to get to know each other in general.” “There’s two quick questions I want to ask first,” put in Nikki with all the precision and confidence in the world.” If we go ahead with the appeal and lost it, what’s the worst that could happen to me? We were a bit worried that, instead of getting three years inside, I could end up with five or ten years and get shoved back into Larkhall? Helen thought that you couldn’t be punished twice over but we weren’t sure and wanted to check it out with you. The other matter is that I’ve been turned down in my passport application. Is there anything that can be done about it?” “The first question is easily answered. Helen is absolutely right. The appeal hearing substituted the manslaughter conviction for murder. There’s a basic legal principle at stake, which is known as ‘double jeopardy.’ You literally have nothing to lose. As for your passport application, I suspect that there has been skullduggery at work. Can you leave me to think on that one, as I need to do a bit of private investigation? Believe me, I won’t forget about the matter.” Both women were convinced by Jo’s definite manner and her sincerity. She came much more into sharp focus to them both. In their world, her skills were crucial to their lives. “In which case, we’re definitely up for this battle,” Nikki replied promptly, exchanging glances with Helen. Claire and Jo were not to know of the troubles this unasked question had caused them. “That’s good, then,” smiled Jo with great satisfaction. A broad smile spread across her face. She was already starting to relish the fight ahead of them. “Claire has talked a lot about you. She says that you are a red hot human rights lawyer and that a reappeal is definitely worth going for.” “I followed your original appeal with great interest. I felt then that there were possibilities in your case which were unexplored at the time. Talking to Claire has only confirmed my feelings. So, in a way, I feel that your reappeal is one of those events, which was destined, to happen and that I would be around when it does. This is why this case would give me great satisfaction to take on. As for me, your description of me does me too much honour. I prosecute cases as well as defend them but, yes, thanks to my mentor who was my pupil master in law school, he has infected me with that very dangerous tendency of being outraged at injustice. He first taught me the basic forensic legal tools to put right that injustice. The rest of my working life is learning to get better at doing what I like best” “Dangerous?” queried Nikki, intrigued. This woman felt incredibly attuned to how she and Helen felt. She played the right piano notes for her and spoke a language in common to her and Helen.” That’s an interesting word which sounds good to me.” “I’m glad to hear it. Too often, barristers act as hired guns to the vested interests they serve. My alternative doesn’t make for a peaceful life but I can say that I sleep easy at nights.” “And who might this mentor be?” Helen asked out of curiosity though she was rapidly deducing the answer even as she spoke. This person who made such a mark on this barrister in her formative years surely couldn’t have faded away. “I’m talking of John Deed, a high court judge and resident thorn in the side of the establishment.” “Claire told us at length about a rape case that he tried. I couldn’t believe that a judge could have such humanity and understanding. That blew me away.” “This was in spite of attempts by the establishment to lean on him to let Alan Partridge off with a slap on the wrist. They made the same fundamental mistake as they ever have done as they really don’t understand how John thrives on resisting being leaned on.” “He sounds like a really dangerous trouble maker,” came Nikki’s grinning reply. “That’s the highest compliment that Nikki can pay,” put in Helen by way of explanation. “Oh, he is. I know from long experience,” Jo laughed with the air of having intimately absorbed a shared history over the years. The three other women took in every nuance of Jo’s voice and gesture and were at their most attentive. “I had some thoughts about the trial,” Helen said in considered tones.” Won’t there be a difficulty in having a second cut at the appeal. We’ll be saying, in effect, I’m sorry, we didn’t run the original appeal right, can we have a second go at it and face the argument that we had the chance to get it right last time so why should we have a second chance.” “That’s a very good point, Helen.” Jo replied, struck by perceptive shaft of logic,“ but the same applies to the judges at the Court of Appeal. Their function was to have considered the law applied at the original hearing. In correcting any errors in law, they were there to arrive at the conclusion the first hearing should have arrived at. They weren’t there to rehear the original case from top to bottom and reexamine all the original witnesses. It was exceptional for Sally Anne Howe to be heard as a witness. The defence did right to press for that and the judges acted rightly in allowing her to be called. Their task in their deliberations was then to have considered all the possible arguments. Marian Chambers’ case hinted at the case that could have been made but never followed it through. I can’t guarentee that there won’t be problems but we’ll fight our way through them as they come up. I must warn you that this case is going to be a very high profile case, especially with our new Home Secretary, Neil ‘hang them and flog them’ Haughton.” “I take it you don’t like the man,” put in Nikki dryly. “I despise the man and John is in serious danger one of these days of physically assaulting him.” Nikki whistled in astonishment. Judges weren’t supposed to behave that way or so she had been accustomed to think. “You’re kidding.” “Believe me, I’m not,” came Jo’s answer which meant every syllable that it was phrased in. Nikki sat back, open-mouthed. She had thought that she’d seen pretty well everything in life but this beat everything. She had thought that her emotional make up was pretty intense in her capacity for either love or hate. As she had come to know and love Helen, she had found another other person who was clearly in the same league. By contrast, other people seemed pale and anaemic. More and more, this judge came over as someone out of the ordinary and intriguingly untamed. She had heard from Claire how this judge had stormed so magnificently at the prosecution barrister for bullying the rape victim on the stand. “What I have to do now is to have as much background as possible. That means your personal background. The only reason I’m asking this question is that there are strong possibilities that the opposition will play dirty tricks on us. There will be a lot at stake for the establishment in not wanting to lose face. I want to be absolutely sure that they can’t find out anything they can use against us.” “Well, Helen and I are lovers,” Nikki said with a touch of defiance after exchanging glances with each other. “If I didn’t know before, I would have most certainly have guessed it by now. That’s good as it means that I’m dealing with two intelligent women who are passionately committed to your justice.” Both women smiled freely at Jo’s perceptive and sympathetic description of them. “It’s not everyone thinks that way….”Nikki answered shakily,” but I ought to explain that we got to know each other as prisoner and wing governor. Believe it or not, I was the archetypal hard case, pain in the arse prisoner and Helen had the insight and intelligence to see there was more to me than met the eye.” After Nikki’s sparse, hesitant opening remarks, Helen slid her insights into Nikki’s narrative while Jo listened intensely to a story of a nightmare existence that was totally beyond her previous experience. It was only softened by the obvious tenderness between the two women. The analytical side of her at the back of her head crosschecked what they were saying against what she took to be matters of fact. She only hoped that she would never have to go through such hardships. “I must thank you both for your honesty and integrity. I’ve made a habit that where I hear of deeds that are beyond my experience and imagination, I trust my instincts and accept. I like to think that it has served me well.” “Don’t worry, Jo. It has.” “So it comes down to this. You have an enemy at Larkhall who blackmailed you out of your job, Helen, with circumstantial evidence of how you had once, if you don’t mind me putting it this way, harboured an escaped prisoner. I’m sure both of you know well enough that this could have potentially seen criminal proceedings taken against you. However, Nikki, you were only imprisoned following a prison sentence the subject of which we are seeking to have quashed. You, Helen, have a distinguished work record in a number of highly responsible prison officer jobs. The only exception is your clandestine relationship with Nikki, which, if it had come out at the time, could have seen you face disciplinary proceedings. The fact that, at a later date, you resigned from your job now makes retrospective disciplinary proceedings against you a complete non-starter. The only danger I can see is if the opposing barrister starts sniffing round Larkhall and makes contact with this man. What seems like the trickiest part of it is really a chicken and egg situation and is not as clear cut as it might seem.” Both Nikki and Helen marvelled at the way Jo threaded her way expertly through an area of her life that had spooked them, that seemed like an unnamable faint menace from the past, some sleeping beast that if not disturbed might not turn round and bite them. “Is that everything that I need to have any concerns about?” “There’s nothing else, except an insurance claim against Helen’s successor as wing governor for running into the back of our car,” came Nikki’s droll response. Jo laughed heartily at the final revelation. The two women were endearing in their conscientiousness. If only all clients were like them. “So how do you feel about the case?” “A whole lot better for telling you,” came Nikki’s simple answer. During this time, Claire had sat there transfixed by the account, feeling that this was where they were all meant to be. “After hearing everything that’s been said, do you have any reservations about going for it?” “Definitely not,” was Helen’s emphatically expressed point of view. “Having heard everything, what are your main reasons for taking on the case?” “Because I believe in you, Nikki, and I believe in your case,” Jo said simply. It was the best answer she could have made. “What are our prospects of this being successful?” Nikki finally said at last. “I’ll be honest with you both. We can certainly succeed. On the other hand, despite my best efforts, we can fail.” “So where does that leave us?” “If you think you’re going to fail, believe me, you’re going to fail. If you think differently, you have a chance. Putting my enthusiasm for the case to one side and thinking objectively, we should definitely go ahead with the case.” “That sounds like a proverb I learnt from my father who was a Methodist minister,” observed Helen with interest. “It has served me well through life,” came Jo’s reflective reply. All three women could identify with that point of view. It spoke of a mixture of realism and faith. They had turned the case inside out and the questions and counter questions had brought everything out into the open. Jo was very satisfied, as she had got the feel of the case, something that was crucial to her. She was confident, as she had ever been at the start of her case. She had found over the years that her approach of interaction with her clients at an early stage had always served her well. Nikki and Helen had found that Jo’s relaxed, non-intrusive approach had got them to place all their cards on the table and they felt that they had unburdened themselves. Claire’s role in the forthcoming trial was taking shape and substance before her eyes as she sat back and listened. A hush descended on the room as the four women looked forward to the future |
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| BETTELA | Oct 3 2007, 09:38 AM Post #86 |
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BETTE
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This is a extremely well written story and thoroughly enjoyable to read. I certainly am looking forward to your next chapter.
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| FanFicCrazy | Oct 3 2007, 10:50 PM Post #87 |
Down the Block
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Richard this is creative writing ,I must say. Thank you for a great read from a fellow Brit |
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| zena | Oct 4 2007, 02:46 AM Post #88 |
I said SIT IN THAT CHAIR
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Another excellant chapter Richard. Waitingfor more.
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| LahbibLover | Oct 4 2007, 03:30 AM Post #89 |
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I said SIT IN THAT CHAIR
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Richard, this whole scene 22 just kept a smile on my face. From the beginning of this story every scene you've written has been superb. You just get better and better. What more can I say other than once again i love your writing style and look forward with great glee to the next scene yeah? |
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| Emms | Oct 4 2007, 12:09 PM Post #90 |
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G2 landing
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Richard, I loved so many things about these last couple of chapters. I'll be back with a proper fb a little later today. Your writting really is stellar.
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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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8:47 AM Jul 11