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Fruits of our Labours; Bad Girls Judge John Deed crossover fic
Topic Started: Sep 20 2009, 05:31 PM (7,178 Views)
richard
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Scene Eleven



Scene Eleven


The harsh lights shone down on the polished mahogany veneer of the large wide desk, the black laptop at the right hand side. To the right was an 'in tray' into which a large open folder lay, the pages splaying out in sequence. The protective wrapper marked 'restricted- staff in confidence' had been stripped and lay underneath it. The middle aged man with hair greying at the sides and hair combed neatly across his scalp; whistled softly at the contents of the file that was unwrapped. This wasn't the normal file dealing with the run of the mill criminal investigations that he was used to and had come down from the very top, duly signed and sealed. The covering minute made plain how the investigation should proceed and just how the backup would operate. It provided a detailed briefing instruction as to the relevant law and a clear explanation of the practicalities. The police superintendent didn't need to think which of his DIs to allocate his case to. The man had that degree of tenacity and organisation to get stuck into the case and would work out the logistics. He picked up the phone to call the man into his office.


**********

To Nikki, Helen and Karen, the prospect of Fenner’s trial had a peculiar dreamlike quality about it. What was solidly etched in black capital letters into their minds was the trial date, Friday December 16th 2001. Objectively speaking the outcome of the trial was inevitable but both women had that lurking suspicion that they dare not count their chickens before they hatched. All of them had seen before how he had wriggled out of tight corners, only to turn round and ensnare his pursuer. Hopefully, the systematic application of the law would finally settle accounts, or so they hoped. Helen found a parking place near the Old Bailey and dropped the Red Peugeot into the slot, promptly followed by Karen’s trim Green MG sports car.

“You ready to see the show?” Karen asked gaily, a broad smile on her face, her blond hair glossy and brushed as she swung out of her car. She looked in the peak of condition, her skin clear and subtly made up. Nikki could tell that Beth’s kind of tender loving was continuing to do her friend the world of good.

“So long as that bastard goes down for a good long stretch,” came Nikki’s succinct reply, which made Helen laugh.

“Come on then,” Karen replied, leading the way across the road.

Once again, they trod the well-worn steps of the Old Bailey as relative veterans to the very particular world of the criminal court. Somehow, they instinctively made their way to the same places they occupied in watching Nikki’s reappeal, Sally Anne case against the Metropolitan Police for compensation and finally Karen’s trial for the very same offence.

“Jesus, we’ve seen such a lot of this court,” Helen said as they climbed up the succession of steps of the curving staircase to the visitor’s gallery. It felt like an old friend to them.

“It’s our choice, babes,” Nikki said slyly, knowing very well what the answer would be.” After all, it isn’t as if we have to be here.”

“You’ve got to be kidding, Nikki,” exploded Helen. ”You don’t seriously think that I’m not going to watch him go by and taken down to the cells and make faces at the bastard?”

As they entered the gallery, they half expected to see the threatening black statue presence of Sir Ian on the back row with or without his faithful henchman Lawrence James. This time, they took their seats and felt free of the lurking presence of the establishment behind them. There was an underlying sense of bubbling cheerfulness between the three women even at such a solemn formal event.

“Beth sends everyone her love,” explained Karen cheerfully while the court was ready to assemble,” but her editor’s breathing down her neck to contribute her piece. She knows it’s not of earth shattering consequences but it pays her wages.”

“Trisha phoned me last night just before she was due to head off to Chix,” added Nikki.” She knew very well that she and Sally-Anne were going to feel half-dead this morning. I know what it’s like way back when. She insists I phone up when the results are in, hopefully with the good news.’

“Good news?” questioned Helen, her high spirits bubbling over with infectious glee. “This one must be a dead certainty – as far as any move to nail the bastard ever is.”

There was a definite sense of achieving final closure on a long and painful part of all their lives. The man had haunted their steps, ever since Nikki had run up against his very first misogynist jeer and his blatant favouritism of Shell Dockley. Helen, too, remembered his apparently smooth guileless face pretending agreement with her naïve enthusiasms while undermining her authority. Karen, too, wondered just why when she attended that long ago conference, she ever went to bed with that man. She let the thought go, as she knew that, back then, she was a completely different woman. The only thing that connected them was the common flesh and blood that they inhabited, nothing else.


Right in the centre of their vision stood that man in the dock, a presence that alternately glowered at them and put on his best innocent expression to his defence barrister. He was dressed in his smartest suit and looked cleaned and polished to perfection. The only stain he couldn’t erase was his thoroughly murky past going back over so many years and so many lives he had ruined. His eyes betrayed his nature as they darted round the courtroom suspiciously but somehow not looking in the direction of the visitor’s gallery.


From the moment Fenner spotted George in her accustomed place, he glared at her with such intensity that the woman could grasp intuitively how much dangerous power there was unleashed to a woman without the protection, which she enjoyed. She could feel that she was hated, as she was a dangerous intelligent woman who wasn’t taken in by his blandishments. The man was a borderline psychopath in his paranoia and his lack of guilt. George mentally shrugged her shoulders, as after all Neil Haughton was in the same category except that he took care to keep his hands clean. She felt fairly calm and relaxed as her recall of the details of Karen’s trial set a pretty secure template for her thinking.


Soon, one of the judges they didn’t recognized started the proceedings. He was fairly colourless and the three women noted immediately that he was no John Deed.

She set out her case with systematic determination with no need to employ any theatrics as her thorough grasp of the case enabled her to stick to the facts. She started to forensically stack up the evidence against Fenner as Shirley Cheetham rapidly and confidently ran through her evidence with total precision, including the very damning CCTV evidence. Gleefully, the gallery watched Fenner glare stonily in front of him as they could see him tied down to the truth with no chance to blur the facts. Helen marvelled at the way that, for once in his life, the man was left no opportunity to squirm his way out of the trap he’d fallen into. He had no accomplice he could either fool or browbeat. She looked sideways at Karen and knew that both of them shared the same feelings. They weren’t going to be totally certain of the outcome until the trial finally came to a conclusion. They’d both had their fingers very badly burnt before. They could have sworn they saw him mumble ‘bitches’ under his breath as Shirley Cheetham made particularly telling points

It took time for a déjà vu feel start to build up as, this time around; Karen’s innocence was the starting point. Finally, George confronted Fenner directly for the first time during the trial.


“Mr. Fenner, you testified at the trial of Karen Betts for the very same offence that you were charged with that, on the night Gerald Baker’s life was taken that, and I quote, ‘I felt really ill from the row so I headed off home and crashed out. When I came to, I wanted some fresh air so I had a wander round on my own to clear my head. Couldn’t say where I went to. After a bit, I went home and got some sleep.’ Are you still prepared to stick to that account of your actions that night?”

“I’ve got no reason to say different,” Fenner said sulkily.

“Do you deny that saying to Karen Betts ‘what are you up to, you conniving bitch- secret meetings-you’re at it big time’, telling her not to ‘prick you about.’ And that you’d ‘bloody well kill her.’ The evidence given in the trial seems pretty conclusive.”

“I’ve had arguments with plenty of people. As a long serving prison officer, you get used to all sorts of aggravation. You get it and you give it back. It doesn’t mean I’m going to murder them,” Fenner said in a low tone of voice. Helen shook her head that the man was still trying his old tricks.

“Do you really deny the evidence that you had an almighty row with Karen Betts, the same day that Gerald Baker’s life was taken?”

“You are taking things right out of context. You’re not telling the court the things she said to me.”

“Then there’s the evidence given by Tony Foster who saw you in Karen Betts car putting on a blond wig and driving off at a time just before Gerald Baker was murdered.”

“Me put a blond wig on. That’s laughable. The next thing you’ll say is that I put lipstick on. I’m totally one hundred per cent straight.”

George was struck by the strangeness of this man’s reply. His words and manner were identical to when he had appeared as a witness and Karen Betts was in the dock. This only put her off her stride for a split second. She pressed home Tony Foster’s account in more detail and finally rounded into her concluding masterstroke.

“I put it to you, James Fenner, that you cold bloodedly ran over one Gerald Baker in order to incriminate Karen Betts. This would have the very convenient effect of negating the file she had submitted to the Prison Service of your sexual abuse of a vulnerable prisoner.”

This had an extraordinary effect on Fenner. They seemed to light a match inside him, as he turned red in the face and his eyes glittered manically. Unknown to George; those same words had been hurled at him by a livid Karen Betts when Di Barker had tipped him off about the file that Karen Betts had been preparing. This mental explosion sparked off a secondary combustion inside him as the man recalled Nikki Wade’s glare and angry words fixed in his direction, naming and shaming him at the aftermath of the appeal hearing that set her free. All his long pent up feelings surged out in a long stream of words, delivered at a volume level, which filled the courtroom.

“Sexual abuse? That’s a good one. I’ve slaved for years in Her Majesty’s Prison and the Army before that. I’ve done every menial job there is and worked my way up because I know what I’m doing. Everything started going wrong for me when that Stewart got parachuted in over my head. I was the one asking her to not swamp us with a load of needless paperwork, to go easy on the drugs testing. She was the one who went on the wing and caused a near riot to break out when I told her that the softly, softly approach would work…..now take that bitch Wade, always cheeking us and trying to undermine the system only that Stewart went moist on her and took her side every time…..now you take Betts. She’d done her footslogging days …the only trouble was when she got authority, it went to her head and she took Atkins’ side….now there was another dangerous con, wife of that Eastend gangland villain Charlie Atkins…… All I was doing was trying to do my job…all the time I served at Larkhall, I never once stepped over the line not once…….”

By contrast, the court was in total hush as the non-stop rant continued without check. The three women in the gallery realized to their horror that Fenner wasn’t really speaking to them, but about them in long monologue to himself. George reflected on one of life’s ironies that the establishment had deliberately excluded John Deed from trying the case. If he had been there, John would have had the force of personality to stop Fenner in his tracks and this anonymous judge hadn’t that capacity. The defence barrister opposite number, Neumann Mason-Alan was opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish. She could read his thought as if they were written on the space that separated them. This man was digging himself deeper into a hole and the judge should stop him. He wouldn’t or couldn’t as proprieties held him back from intervening. From George’s position, she was happy enough to let the man carry on with his self-deluding lies. They served to convict him as surely as did her prosecution of the case.

“……You have to be strong to work in the prison service. Strong.” Fenner continued, beating his chest with his fist in pride.” There’s lying bitches who’ll try and drag you down and tempt you into going off the straight and narrow. It’s not just in the cons. There are prison officers who’ll let the side down. As for this accusation of running down this man, can’t you see that this is raving madness. I wouldn’t step over the line, I tell you.”

To the horrified spectators, Fenner suddenly extended his arms wide, either side of him. It seemed that he was adopting a ‘crucifixion’ pose. It felt grotesquely inappropriate but the three women in the gallery knew beyond doubt that he really believed in himself. This was ultimate lunacy.

“I’m innocent. Can’t you see that I’m innocent? I’m innocent, I tell you,” Fenner shouted at the top of his longs.

There was a total hush in the court as the reverberations slowly settled down.

“Thank you, Mr. Fenner. I think you have made everything crystal clear for the jury,” George said softly.

Neumann Mason-Alan waved his hand in indication to the judge that he didn’t want to reexamine Fenner. All he wanted was to get out of this court as soon as possible and collect his fee.

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stealthgirl
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I really enjoyed your updates, Richard.

Karen is back on her feet and deservedly happy after being attracted to a string of rat bastards unsuitable men. The bureaucratic flunkies are once again on the back foot as Nikki's report cuts through the BS and highlights the weaknesses and abuses of the system. How realistic that they would be out for revenge!

It's time for Fenner to see the other side of the bars for real. :prisonbars

Thank you for entertaining us with your unique blending of the BG characters with the cast of "Judge John Deed".

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Bad Girls Riot - Fanfiction, Friends and Fun!
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richard
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Hi Stealthgirl. I always enjoy your responses to my fics and your very pithy post gets it spot on in a very humorous effective way. You and other readers out there will enjoy this next post as this is the collision point of the slow motion car crash that is Fenner. Enjoy


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

Scene Twelve



The closing addresses of the two barristers were almost an anti-climax after the drama of Fenner cracking up which had exploded out of nowhere. The judge gave brief directions to the jury in formal tones. The three women in the gallery were ahead of him, divining that the charge of murder applied if Fenner was considered to have deliberately ran down Gerald Baker.The alternative of manslaughter, if the jury considered that Fenner merely drove recklessly and lost control of the car. He sent the jury off to deliberate and adjourned the hearing for a late lunch.

The three women’s fixed attention on the theatre of the court faded away. They turned round and suddenly became aware of Bodybag sitting silently behind them. The expression on her face was a peculiar mixture of anger and embarrassment, which tilted towards anger at the sight of them. It didn’t put them off their stroke.

“I suppose you’ve all come to gloat at Jim’s misfortune,” she said with a tight expression in her voice. It was clearly intended to make them guilty.

“As a matter of fact, yes we have,” Karen, said bluntly, taking fire at this woman’s hypocrisy. She was in no mood to have a guilt trip laid on her. ”Just where the hell was anyone from Larkhall, especially you, Sylvia, when I was going through sheer bloody hell? Out of sight, out of mind, that’s what I was. Yvonne Atkins and I saved Larkhall from being privatized and you from being out of a job. I really don’t know why I bothered. Only Nikki and Helen stood by me and that’s why they’ re my friends. Just get out of my way.”

“Should we cry our eyes out if Fenner gets sent down?” snapped Helen who, like Nikki glared at this woman. She fumbled for her handbag, gathered it up and scuttled up the steps and out of harm’s way.

“Just why does that woman still defend that bastard, even after hearing everything that went on? She did hear all the trial, didn’t she?” wondered Karen aloud to the others.

“You bet she heard everything, Karen. Come on; let’s get a drink at the bar across the road. I’m thirsty,” replied Nikki.

The three women clattered down the staircase and greeted George at the bottom who had a wide smile on her face.

“We’re going to the pub across the road, George. Care to join us?” Helen called out.

The longing look on George’s face told the three women that the barrister was seriously tempted until duty reined her in.

“I’d love to but I had better keep Claire’s company and have a clear head for the result. You never know what might happen, especially as this judge is a stranger. I’ll phone you when we’re called back and hopefully join you afterwards.”

Helen graciously thanked George’s consideration and the three women strode confidently out to the bar.

*******

They had got in a round of drinks in a mood of excited cheerfulness. Helen’s choice of vodka and the other two women’s choice of soft drinks was an obvious guide as to who was driving.

“And I did want to have a few drinks to celebrate,” murmured Nikki disconsolately.

“Never mind, babes. Just imagine, you’ve got a shot of vodka in your orange,” laughed Helen gaily.

“You try it if you’re so certain, Ms Stewart. You’re just rubbing salt into my wounds,” retorted Nikki with mock anger.

“Aaah, but I don’t have to,” came Helen’s gleeful reply to the accompaniment of Karen’s hearty laughter. She enjoyed the cheerful banter between the two women and could listen to them all day.

Just then, two slim hands slipped round Karen’s waist as Beth’s perfume and her soft kiss on Karen’s cheek greeted her. The blond haired woman sighed blissfully as her lover glided round to face her.

“I figured out which pub you’d all be in and thought I’d surprise you, darling.”

“Surprises like these, I could lap up all day, babes,” murmured Karen with a satisfied smile on her face.

“So come on. How’s everything gone?” Beth asked excitedly.

“You never can tell for sure but George did a fine job with her case and made mincemeat of Fenner. He ended up losing it big time,” Nikki replied laconically.

“Anger or tears or both?”

“Just anger. I blush to admit it, Beth, but I lived with Fenner once. I was even engaged to be married- for all of five minutes. You know, I’m probably the only one who’s seen him in tears when I called round after his wife and kids left him. That’s probably the one and only sincere emotion when compared with a lifetime of lies, deceit and trickery not to say violence and rape.”

The way Karen’s tone of voice shifted from the shamefaced, through contemplative and finally to sudden anger would have jarred on the others if they hadn’t understood her.

“So what caused you to break it off with him, Karen? Come on, I’m nosy. You can talk about it now and achieve final and total closure on him.” Nikki noted approvingly how Helen’s answer shifted from the light hearted to the gently compassionate.

“When you left Larkhall, you left a report for me to find about how he sexually assaulted you. Right?”
.
“I did that as my last desperate attempt to get you to see through him.”

“It did the trick…..eventually though not without a few wobbles. It takes time to really get clear of a control freak like him.”

“So you finally chucked him and finally ended up with Beth instead,” Nikki gently intervened.

“And I finally got through that stupid weakness for smooth talking bastards and found what I really wanted out of life.”

“You know, I’d bet Adolph Hitler was very affectionate towards his pet Alsatian. Says it all, really,” observed Nikki dryly.

Karen laughed loudly and freely at Nikki’s priceless remark. She slid her arm affectionately around Beth’s waist and leaned against her, not giving a damn who else was in the pub. She came close to weeping tears of joy at the spirit of humanity around her.

“Bless you, Nikki for that one. You and Helen are the best friends I’ve ever had …as well as George and Alice. I’m really lucky…so screw you, Fenner. Rot in hell.”

This time, her rant against Fenner was inspired by a joyous affirmation of life and not tainted by any half resolved contrary feelings.

“Hey Beth darling,” Karen said in an unusually wheedling tone of voice.” Did you drive here? I mean……”

“Babes, I came here by taxi. I would be delighted to drive your car if it means you want to drink something more exciting than fresh orange. I will be careful with your pride and joy, I promise.”

“Bless you,” Karen said expansively, kissing her lover full on her lips.” In which case, I’m safe to have a double vodka after all.”

“So it means that I’ve only you to keep company in the boring teetotal stakes,” Nikki said mournfully to general laughter.

***************

The courtroom assembled into place and the tension emanating from Fenner was visible. He had always possessed the faith that, somehow, he could wriggle clear out of any tight corner. His faith in his own invincibility had sustained him throughout his life. In this most severe of tests he felt it slipping through his hands. It couldn’t happen to him, surely.

The non-verbal system of signals indicated that the jury was ready to deliver it verdict. The tension ratcheted itself up to fever pitch even if the judge was being fairly passive and detached.

“Have you reached a verdict on which you are all agreed?” the court usher requested of the foreman, a middle aged man of not particular distinguishing characteristics.

“Yes we have, my lord.”

“On the charge of manslaughter, how do you find the defendant, guilty or not guilty?”

“Guilty.”

“On the alternate charge of murder, how do you find the defendant, guilty or not guilty?”

“Guilty.”

There was an audible gasp from the gallery for wildly differing reasons, which died into the echoing spaces of the court. George exhaled her breath with feelings of relief. Neumann Mason-Alan looked blank faced.

“James Fenner, you have been found guilty of an offence that cuts deeper than any other hit and run accident. I have passed judgment on those whose main crime were recklessness and ended up in a situation where they lost control of the car, with catastrophic consequences. Your crime is far more sinister and far-reaching. I am perfectly satisfied that you carefully chose one intended victim, Karen Betts and to a lesser extent Gerald Baker. You deliberately broke into Miss Betts’ flat to remove evidence that could be used against you in connection with your career. You stole her car and took a bottle of alcohol with the deliberate intention of using both to incriminate Miss Betts her in a deliberately staged hit and run accident. Your manner of driving was deliberately designed to cause maximum attention and not as a spontaneous expression of reckless abandon. You attended Miss Betts’ trial as a prosecution witness, knowing full well that you were guilty and she was innocent and only by the greatest good fortune was the court steered onto the right track and acquitted Miss Betts of the very same charge that you have been found guilty of. So far from expressing any contrition, you have indulged in a warped exhibition, which was designed to exculpate you and has only served to deepen your guilt. In handing down a custodial sentence, you will have full opportunity to contemplate your situation. The sentence is of life imprisonment. Dock officers, take him down.”

“Oh no, Jim,” Bodybag groaned with a sense of total desolation while Fenner’s eyes seemed to stand out on stalks, his face pouring with sweat. Somehow, despite his smart suit, he looked dishevelled. He looked round in a paranoid fashion at the usher either side of him. He sensed immediately that they were going to lay hands on him and take them away……just like he had done so many times to cons that he’d been in charge of. He realized that he’d left his job behind the moment he came off the shift yesterday. He had jobs to finish up at Larkhall, Hedges to mentor and Atkins to keep in line. It was then that he sensed Nikki’s fierce stare, locking contact with his. Karen and Helen, either side of him, looked down on him with no pity for his plight.

“You’ll regret this, all of you,” he suddenly shouted.” I’ll get my revenge on you, you bitches, just see if I don’t. I don’t belong behind bars. I’m innocent I tell you.”

“This isn’t real,” the three women thought to themselves with a meeting of the eye, ”This is the first time he’s acknowledged our presence.”

The two ushers laid a hand of him and gently propelled him out of the dock, round the corner and down the gaping hole of the staircase, which seemed to swallow him whole. His shouting reverberated round the court after he had gone and faded away into nothingness.

“Whew,” exclaimed Karen dispassionately.” So justice has finally been done. We can get on with living our lives.”

The enormity of the event that had taken place before their very eyes, hadn’t hit home to the three women. It was as if some enormous edifice had come crashing down around them and even though the explosion was librating, it didn’t feel realAfter all this timethey simultaneously thought. All they felt was that it was time to file out of court for what they were sure was going to be the once and final last time in their lives.



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richard
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Scene Thirteen



The winter sunlight shone wearily through the windows of Trisha’s and Sally Anne’s flat and it palely illuminated the tousled white double quilt, revealing the odd protruding naked leg or arm, a lock of hair and strewn all around, and a scattering of party clothes. The sunlight was clearly more ready for the day than the two women were. There was no movement from the room for a long time. In vain the gentle winter breezes blew on the closed window, urging those who needed their spirits lifting to enjoy the bright sunshine.

It took a long time before an arm and leg to stretch out, for the two women to arch their backs and stretch the exertions of last night out of their systems. Finally, one brown eye blearily opened and, with assistance from the other, finally focussed on the tousled blond hair, pair of deep blue eyes and the soft smile looking down on her from some vague space.

“Are you as badly able to face the morning as I feel, babes?” Trisha’s voice croaked.
“God, do I feel tired and wrecked. We must have danced out feet off and had way more to drink than normal. We did lock up properly last night, darling?” Sally answered in a husky tone of voice rising to an anxious note at the end.

“Relax babes. After all these years, I can do it with my eyes closed- even if they were half closed and my legs wobbly from the champagne we drank……..That was some party, something we’ve not held for ages.”

“The place was certainly rocking, with Helen and Nikki cavorting about, George letting her hair down with Alice and Karen and Beth celebrating like there was no tomorrow. Everyone had a good time…..and we were part of it,” Sally Anne said dreamily, running her hair through her lover’s hair. Strong images of the celebration party were flickering through her mind as the other women there who hadn’t really followed the case were pulled into the energy emanating off the women who had. For once, the club assistants had kindly insisted that they could hold the fort while Sally Anne and Trisha joined the celebrations and after an inward struggle let go their normal constraints. They didn’t rightly remember the sequence of drinks except that it went to their heads in a whirligig of pulsing music, loving embraces with their dear friends and energetic dancing. Both women knew that they had enough energy to gently caress each other but anything more felt out of the question – at least for now.

Trisha moved her body slightly to face her lover and they each gently cradled the other in her arms.
”I really don’t feel like getting out of bed. I don’t think I can move. I’m sorry, darling. The spirit’s willing but the flesh is definitely weak.”

While waves of tiredness flowed through their systems, they lay together, looking into each other’s eyes and feeling that sense of physical closeness between them. As for later, who knows?


This was the similar reaction between Karen and Beth, Nikki and Helen and George and Alice. It was a peaceful Sunday morning after Fenner’s trial and everyone had that dreamy, ‘wiped out’ feel about them. The day passed in a haze but the celebrations and its aftermath had drawn them closer together with their partners.

******

It was George who put the word about that next Sunday should be an informal party at her flat. It would be a decorous event with buffet food and drinks, which she would personally provide. Everyone cheered up immensely at the thought as George had started to gain a reputation for being immensely hospitable and it enabled all of the women to break clear of that feeling of laziness after that party at Chix. Sally Anne and Trisha were talking about this move away from their normal habits and it sparked a thought in Sally Anne’s mind.

“Trisha,” Sally asked one day in the week before setting out to Chix. “Haven’t you had the feeling that we ought to get away once in a while?”

Trisha stopped dead in her tracks. It was a perfectly reasonable suggestion but she had got so into ploughing her energies into Chix, into her lover and into their friends in no definable sense of priority. It crossed her mind that they were certainly piling a lot of money into their bank account from the club with little time to enjoy it in. She and Sally Anne were glad to provide backup for wider causes like standing outside the Home Office to support the judges’ picket line, but it briefly held their attention in passing. Trisha was further away from Nikki and Helen’s intense political interest but she wasn’t averse to it. She smiled to herself at the irony of Nikki’s obvious platonic friendship with John Deed but she accepted it for what it was. After all, she had come across this guy, this Harley Street doctor who had got her to give up smoking and had treated Sally Anne for the aftermath of her traumatic experience of being raped. She had noticed John Deed as someone who was a definite cut above the average guy and who was an obvious charmer of straight women but that was all.

“You’re a million miles away, babes,” Sally Anne said tenderly.

“It doesn’t matter. I was just thinking for no particular reason about your therapist and this judge friend of Nikki and Helen,” Trisha said softly. She had nearly brushed aside Sally’s question as to what was on her mind but realized that she had to be honest, even in little ways. Living with Nikki had taught her that much.” You’re right. We deserve a treat. Leave this one with me to think over……….”

********

The buffet food was artfully arranged on George’s best china and the finest wines were nicely chilled. The blond haired woman looked on with great satisfaction and deeply thankful for letting Alice help out in her unobtrusive fashion. On this occasion, she had simply let the words out of her mouth to ask for Alice’s help and felt a curious sense of relief when she accepted the offer.

“Thank you so much, darling. You are uniquely privileged in being the only person who I’ve ever felt comfortable in sharing a kitchen with. That has to say something about us, doesn’t it?”

Alice smiled warmly at such a compliment. She had unobtrusively spread and cut up pate sandwiches and tastefully arranged miniature sausages and fitted in so well while George busied herself. In turn, the blond haired women never had the sense of her hackles rising as she did when Neil Haughton drifted in and out so as to ensure the servants were in order. During her marriage to John, he had had the sense to stay out of the way and to only enter her holy of holies for specified purposes.


The first knock at her door announced Helen and Nikki’s entrance, Helen in her salmon pink floaty crinkled chiffon dress and silver Prada open toed sling backs with 3 inch heels which emphasized her petite beauty. Nikki by contrast, wore open sandals and her favourite stunning white suit, which contrasted with her dark hair. George greeted them enthusiastically, complimenting them profusely on their outfits with not a shred of that competitiveness that she once had felt. At this party, everyone was allowed to shine in their glory.

“Hmmm, I love the look of your buffet, George,” Nikki grinned mischievously.
“Can’t take her anywhere,” laughed Helen as her partner’s healthy appetite manifested itself so publicly.
“Alice did so well in helping me out. Give credit’s where it’s due.”
Nikki nodded her approval of the other woman’s sentiment, which nicely balanced the archly theatrical and the straight down the line in George. There was a natural sense of understanding between the two women.

“You must have a drink,” Alice offered in her most hospitable fashion.
“I might have known that you’d be here first for the drinks, Helen,” called a laughing voice from behind them as Trisha made her presence known, holding Sally Anne’s hand.
Trisha wore her favourite light blue relaxed looking jacket and skirt while Sally Anne wore a loose floaty dress.
“I have a reputation to maintain,” countered Helen, grinning all over her face, reveling in the public attention while Nikki smiled at her partner’s India rubber character.
“You haven’t come by car today, babes?” Trisha asked on a more serious note.” We haven’t.”
“Us neither. It means that neither of us has to stay on the wagon or risk being breathalysed. I like socializing with Ros and Jenny off duty one but somehow the police as a whole aren’t exactly my flavour,” Helen grinned in reply.
“Are they coming as matter of interest?” Nikki enquired.” We owe them one for helping us out when Karen was going through her troubles.” This was typical Nikki, George thought affectionately, to consider Karen’s troubles as all theirs.
“I got a phone call from Ros and her exact words were ‘some bastard put them on the second weekend shift running. Have a few on them but for God’s sake don’t drive when we’re around.’”

All the four women laughed out loud, Karen and Beth included as they caught the last snatch of conversation. George looked on delightedly as a myriad voices started to build up into the ebb and flow of good conversation. Her mind was such that she could chatter away along with the best of them and look in from outside and know that everyone was enjoying themselves. In that way, she had always been the perfect party host but now she was amongst friends she could warm to rather than keep up appearances.


“Does life every get to the point of ‘and all ended happily after?’” mused Helen thoughtfully as she stood holding a glass of wine in one hand.
“My experience is that just when life settles down comfortably, things happen out of the blue,” Nikki said an unexpected dark tone of voice that was as much a surprise to herself as anyone in the room. “Being expelled from my boarding school for ‘lesbian activities’ and being disowned by my parents taught me at a pretty early age how life can suddenly turn on you, not to mention driving up to Chix to pick up Trisha as normal and DC Gossard pops up like the evil character in pantomime.”
“There was nothing pantomime about that guy, Nikki,” Trisha shuddered.” You weren’t that close to him.”
“I know, I know, babes,” Nikki said gently, laying her hand on the other woman’s hand sympathetically.” You know my habit of occasionally shooting my mouth off and saying something I’ve deeply regretted as Helen knows to her cost.”
“And don’t I know it,” smiled Helen before continuing in an exaggerated stage whisper. ”You should have seen her when I first knew her. Such a hard case.”
“I had a reputation to maintain as well. I’m basically averagely posh – not by any means in George’s class,” Nikki retorted with perfect timing and smiling as she caught George’s amused glance,” but if you’re in prison, that can be a bloody liability. If you stay as you naturally are, you’ll be pulled apart in no time at all. I sort of toughened up my manner and came over as more butch and tough than I naturally am. Being sent down for doing something as deranged as killing a policeman with a broken bottle also boosts street credibility. It saved my neck though I started out being such a pain in the arse to Helen. What it does mean is that it works wonders in talking to prisoners these days. There is an upside to the experience- once I’m out of it.”

This was the first time Nikki had talked about her experiences at some length and it provided a sobering experience. Those women for whom prison was just a word of a newspaper headline thought seriously on Nikki’s words.

Finally, Sally refilled her glass and grabbed everyone’s attention in proposing a toast. She had grabbed everyone’s attention as she sought for the right words when suddenly they formulated themselves.

“Let’s toast the future. May Fenner and all his kind rot in hell and the best wishes to all our futures.”

A murmur of words echoed her toast and the winter sunshine smiled in on the women who were united by bonds of affection. It was one of those moments that none of them would forget.

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richard
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Scene Fourteen



The hazy, sentimental mood of recent days framed Helen’s response to the knock on the door on the morning of December 18th 2001. It was a date like any other date except that bit nearer Christmas. This knock sounded the same as any other knock, especially as the local postman would make a good panel beater by contrast with this perfectly average rat tat tat..


“I’ll get it, Nikki,” Helen sang out as she clattered her way to the front door, her thoughts focussed on last minute Christmas presents for her dear friends from Chix. Life had got to the point that they were as precious to her as her family should have been. Smiling slightly with that sense of inner contentment, she threw open the front door, supposing that one of her friends had popped by on the off chance. To her surprise, she saw a youngish man with a thick mop of brown hair. She raised her eyebrows in curiosity. These days, her circle of friends was almost exclusively female. Ironically, it was Nikki who had more platonic male friends than herself. It was in this relaxed frame of mind that she greeted this stranger.

“Hi, what can I do for you?”
“Are you Helen Stewart?” came the reply in the sort of formal tones that instantly put her on her guard. He had a harsh Scottish accent, quite unlike her own.
“What if I am? I’m sure I don’t know you so can you tell me who you are?”
“I’m DI Sullivan. I’ve come to ask you a few questions. Mind if I come in?”

Something with Helen rang loud alarm bells. She had heard of this man's reputation from Karen. Even though Nikki was happily clattering away in the kitchen, she was overwhelmed by this horrible feeling that everything near and dear to her had suddenly become remote from her. In this world, only she and this horrible intruder existed. She put her hand to her mouth in shock.

“You’d better come in,” Helen muttered tonelessly as an attempt to feel in control of the situation.” Do you want a cup of tea?” she offered in suddenly conciliatory tones, an involuntary reaction which she immediately hated about herself. She had no need to conciliate this, or any man especially as she remembered that this was the policeman who had interviewed, or rather interrogated Karen.
“Thank you, no.”

Feeling sick to the pit of her stomach, Helen led the way to the front room, complete with their Christmas tree, decorated with white lights and tinsel to the side of which lay last minute Christmas presents in their plastic and paper carrier bags, fresh from the shops. Wrapping them was where all her today's plans had been concentrated, now that she and Nikki were ready to wind down for Christmas after such an intensely hard year.

“Are you the Helen Stewart who was once wing governor of G Wing at Larkhall Prison, Home Office employee and finally acting Governing Governor of the aforesaid prison?”

“Yes, that was me though it all feels a long long time ago.”

“First of all, I must caution you that you are not obliged to say anything but anything you say can be taken down and used in evidence against you,” DI Sullivan said in loud hectoring tones.
“Yes,” Helen said faintly as if she were a million miles away from herself.
“Are you aware of the provisions of the Official Secrets Act 1989?”
“Yeah, I suppose I do remember it, “ murmured Helen tonelessly.
“I’m investigating very serious concerns that have arisen over a publication by the Howard League of Penal Reform. It has made very damaging allegations about the workings of Larkhall prison that would shake public confidence in the prison system. It’s author, Nikki Wade immediately leads the trail to you, Helen Stewart as the provider of background information. Such background information amassed in the course of your official duties puts you in peril of breaching the Official Secrets Act 1989 if disclosed without prior authority. I have to inform you that, to my knowledge, there is no such application for disclosure. I’m sure you’ll know that this is a potentially criminal matter which could potentially lead to a conviction under Section 10 on indictment, to imprisonment for a term not exceeding two years or a fine or both.,” DI Sullivan intoned with increasing sense of menace in his voice.
“Nikki,” Helen screamed out loudly, in a state of state of absolute panic, suddenly breaking away from this nightmare into which she had been strong-armed against her will.

Nikki had been clattering away in the kitchen doing a quick tidy up while Helen had disappeared into the front room somewhere. She had just finished and was intent on preparing for their evening meal until that cry for help cut through the air. Primeval instinct drove her to drop everything and run through to the front room. There before her sat a terrified Helen and a man who was clearly threatening her.She saw red straightaway.

“You’d better get the hell out of our house before I throw you out. I mean it. I’m not having a bastard like you around here,” Nikki shouted, the furies bursting through that calm reasonable exterior.Helen's immediate plight was very scary but equally so was the way that Nikki was very dangerously roused.It was only by an immense effort of will, that she finally found a temporary way out of the horrors that had closed in on them..

“DI Sullivan, you had really better watch your step. I have a very protective girlfriend who really hates me being threatened. Come to think of it, I don’t like it either."

"You can't threaten me," DI Sullivan blustered. Helen rolled her eyes skywards in despair of the man.

"Do you have the faintest idea what Nikki was once imprisoned for?” Helen said very forcefully, with controlled anger mingled with fear coursing through her veins. Even though part of her was starting to attain a measure of self-control over her reasoning processes, she was trembling all over as a nervous reaction and also out of fear of what Nikki might do if she was pushed that tiny step over the edge. She had to regain control of the situation that was threatening to spiral out of control.

Fortunately, even DI Sullivan sensed that he had gone too far. Memories of what had happened to DC Gossard came vividly to mind. He sought to soften the situation.

“I’m not coming of my own bat. I’ve been sent here to make enquiries. I’m only doing my job.”

“Historically, that’s a very poor excuse. Ask the questions you need to ask and be done,” Nikki said scornfully. At that moment, she was infinitely glad that this bastard had aroused her feelings of cold contempt. Likewise, she was incredibly relived that she'd left her carving knife in the kitchen. Her shift in feelings made her feel a lot safer. Helen laughed out loud briefly at Nikki’s sharp retort.

"I'm the one in charge here," the man blustered and in doing so, threw away his psychological advantage of officialdom.

“I’m sitting in on this interview, DI Sullivan. I’m giving you no choice in the matter. I’ll keep quiet so long as you don’t push your luck,” Nikki insisted in firm tones.

“I want to know if at any time you, Helen Stewart divulged any official secrets in the course, not only at the time of your official duties at Larkhall prison but afterwards when you are still bound by the same act I’ve mentioned,” DI Sullivan said with exaggeratedly official intonations.

“What’s an ‘official secret’ when it’s at home?” laughed Nikki in the man’s face. This arrogant idiot was being totally absurd except that he was trying to marginalize her. That didn't matter as her scorn and contempt for the man made her feel much safer in herself.

“In view of Helen Stewart’s past positions of responsibility in the prison service, she should know,” the man shot back, clearly getting on his high horse.Wrong move, both women thought instantly.

“Just cool it, Nikki and let me handle the situation,” intervened Helen.” The answer to your question is that there is nothing I have ever said that would be ever detrimental to the running of the prison service, either when I worked for it or since I left it. To be quite frank, I have wanted to forget my time in the prison service when I left it. I have been never treated very kindly by it when I worked for it.”

“So what about the contents of this report I'm holding in my hand? You know every word in it. I put it to you that it shows all the hallmarks of inside information,” DI Sullivan retorted, staring directly at Helen and trying to cold-shoulder Nikki in his bumptious manner.

“Why don’t you talk to my partner Nikki Wade? After all, she’ll back up everything I’m saying. She’s in the same room in case you didn’t know,” Helen snapped back with a sarcastic edge to her voice.

“That won’t be necessary. You’re the one that I’ve been ordered to interview, not her. Are you really going to say that there has never been any pillow talk?”

“What?” exclaimed Nikki incredulously."Are you really seriously asking us that two women will trade information about Larkhall Prison? That is the unsexiest idea I’ve ever heard of in my life. At moments like this, two women are far more likely to do what comes naturally.”

DI Sullivan’s cheeks flushed red as the full weight of Nikki’s scorn and sexual allusion hit home. He had the uniqu experience of actually feeling like the plonker he really was as he was hard put to come up with a snappy comeback like all the archetypal tough cops do. His question sounded perfectly absurd when he heard it replayed in his mind. It was just as well his colleagues weren’t around or they would have split their sides, laughing.

“Very well, possibly not then. Are you seriously telling me that as you have been in an intimate relationship with Ms Wade for some months, you haven’t slipped her a few bits of inside information? Think of it, Ms Wade’s position in doing a report on Larkhall Prison and here are you, Ms Stewart, very conveniently at hand to help out,” insisted DI Sullivan with a slightly greater display of intelligence than normal.

“Let’s make a deal, Sullivan like I told you earlier,” Nikki ordered firmly.” If you conduct yourself in a proper, professional manner, I’ll try and keep quiet. It’s a fair deal after all. All I’m asking is that you behave yourself in a way you should be behaving anyway. I’m not leaving the room because, quite frankly, I don’t trust you.”

Nikki’s mixture of reason and firmness did the trick. She had calmed down from the rage that had exploded inside herself that, quite frankly, scared her. She had just about restrained herself from getting physical with the guy and she remembered only too well what had happened the last time when her girlfriend had been threatened. She felt far more comfortable in reasoning their way out of this situation and she was enormously relieved that Helen had recovered her nerve.

“OK, we don’t have to like each other, just that we have an understanding. Can I now resume the questioning?”

“By all means,” Helen said. She didn’t care how this idiot was trying to save his face after Nikki had faced him down.

“The report makes very specific allegations about the internal conduct of the prison officer hierarchy, their conduct towards the prisoners and the operation of the medical centre. To my way of thinking, no ex prisoner could have had that detailed inside knowledge which leads me to believe that you assisted her. What have you to say to that, Ms Stewart?”

“What you don’t know is just how much prisoners get to know about the internal workings of the prison. After all, they’re there twenty-four seven, they talk to each other, words are let slip and the average intelligence of prisoners shouldn’t be underrated. I have found that out from Nikki talking to me, if she is allowed to let me know what she knew. She’s not breaking any secrets, is she?”

“No, indeed she is not. So you’re sticking to your story, are you?” DI Sullivan said, the tone of his voice admitting temporary defeat.


********

By this point, Nikki and Helen were starting to relax a little as they could feel this odious policeman feeling under pressure as Helen had got into her stride and was giving at least as much back as she received in the exchanges, while Nikki’s assertive presence had firmly set boundaries that he couldn’t climb over. They were puzzled to hear him whip out his mobile and start speaking.

“OK, reserve team, I think we need your presence…….five minutes time? That’s great,” he said curtly. The smile on his face boded no good.

“Just what the hell is going on here?” exploded Nikki, sensing danger.

“All will be explained in good time when they come," came the pompous non reply. .

“Do you really think that more of your company is welcome?” flared Nikki, her cheeks flushing red and her eyes flashing fire. Helen knew very well that it was the fear of the unknown that was winding her partner up and that provoking the police was counter-productive.

“Cool it, Nikki. Let’s get this over and done with and we’ll get the house to ourselves again.”

“I’m glad you’re seeing reason,Ms Stewart,” D I Sullivan said in what he hoped sounded reasonable tones. Just for once in his professional career, he opted for the softly softly routine.

A sullen silence hung heavy on the tension filled air. Neither woman felt obliged to make polite conversation, as they were not welcome guests. For one crazy moment, both women wondered if their good friends, Roz and Jenny would pull up in their vehicle as they had once run them home when they were too drunk to drive. Finally, there came a staccato knock on the front door.

“I’ll get it,” Nikki said with firm decisiveness, with a hard stare at DI Sullivan. This was their house not his, she was saying. Sure enough, two average looking men in shiny suits trooped in and joined DI Sullivan. One of them produced what looked like an official document from his inside jacket pocket and passed it to DI Sullivan.

“Miss Stewart, I have a signed warrant authorizing a search of your premises for documents relating to suspected offence under the Official Secrets Act. My colleagues intend to conduct the search. I would strongly advise you to cooperate,” DI Sullivan declaimed in loud tones.

This time, it was Helen who turned red in the fact, a dangerous glitter in her eyes as she pushed forward. The phrase, an Englishwoman’s house is her castle, immediately jumped into her mind. Curiously enough, it was Nikki who placed her hand on her partner’s arm.

“Save it, babes. Let these little boys have their fun. After all what have we got to hide?” she said with curiously icy scorn. Immediately, she mentally jumped back in time. In reality, it was Fenner coming blundering round to give her a cell spin when she knew above all that they were innocent. Helen just wasn’t so used to being on the wrong end of officialdom.

“Let me have a look at your warrant,” demanded Helen in peremptory tones. That rediscovered crack of authority in her voice forced DI Sullivan to give way.

“I assure you, it’s perfectly genuine,” blustered the man, forever ready to get up on his high horse but passing the document over.

Helen took one look at the document and scanned it quickly. She focussed on the name of the judge who had signed it and Alan Peasemarsh was the name of the scrawled signature. For the life of her, she couldn't recall the name but she made a mental note to check with John. She reached for her mobile to be sure of its presence and the lump reassured her of lines of contact with the outside world.

“We stay and watch these bastards to make sure they don’t pull any funny strokes,” Nikki said quietly out of the corner of her mouth to Helen.” Besides, we don’t want our place pulled apart, do we? Trust me, babes, I’ve been here before.”

“Right you lot,” Helen said in her most determined tones.” We’re going to cooperate with your search but we are each going to stand over you to make sure that you do it strictly according to the book and don’t abuse your powers. If you do decide to take any papers away with you, they’ll have to be properly receipted and inspected by me. We don’t you turning our house upside down or so help me God, I’ll get onto George Channing, a High Court barrister who’s such a scary woman that she makes me look like a pussycat by comparison.”

The three men inwardly flinched at the threatening power of Helen’s declamation and the way she stood with her hands on her hips. It did the trick.

The rest of the visit passed by in a state of outwardly bored contempt and inner tension. Neither woman dreamed of letting these intruders think they had got to them in any way. They methodically went through all the bureau and bookcases, looked under their bed and behaved in such an obvious methodical search mode that came out of the Police Academy. Finally, looking a bit hot and bothered, all they had to show for their search was Helen’s old Larkhall phone book, address book and some standard Prison Service literature that Helen had clean forgotten to clear out.

“You’ve finished,” Helen yawned. She wasn’t trying to make a subtle dig but she and Nikki’s concentration had been wound up tight in keeping an eye on the policemen that a reaction was beginning to set in. It seemed like ages ago since Nikki had unthinkingly opened the door. As time went on, Nikki’s feelings started to change. The sensation that she was back in Larkhall Prison started to fade away. She began to realize that this was a self-protective device to insulate herself from the reality of what was happening to them. It crossed her mind that the run of court cases that they had either been through or helped out with had put them into the bigtime league and the possible consequences were worse than a couple of weeks down the block or loss of spends.

“For the moment,” DI Sullivan said in tight tones. He did his best to hide his disappointment. He knew that all he could do was to make his report and the matter would be out of his hands.

He sought the refuge of official phrases and procedures to wrap up this investigation and intoned the timeworn formula,” I must ask you to sign a statement as to the present state of play and I would remind you again that you are not obliged to make a statement but anything you say may be used in evidence against you.”

Both women felt a moment of relief as the man scribbled away laboriously. When Helen looked at it she thought, sure, it looks right. She scrawled her signature and handed it back to the man.

“I’ll report this investigation and, after this, it will be up to the CPS. You know what that means.”

“I understand,” Helen said grimly.

******

They let the man out of the house and both sank in each other’s arms for a long, long time. They both needed the comforting feel of each other’s bodies to heal themselves. The Christmas presents were very real and, as this man had gone, he must be unreal.

"This can't be Fennner dirty work surely?" Nikki asked guardedly, all sort of paranoid visions whirling round inside her head. They were clinging on to each other for dear life to stop themselves disappearing into this growing nightmare.

“I doubt it," Helen said grimly after a long pause as she wouldn't put it past that evil man exacting revenge even from his prison cell. She had to wrench her mind away from being pulled along by that deranged train of thought,"Anyway, I’m phoning George about this. I’ve a feeling that this won’t be going away. This is more likely payback time by the establishment.”

Helen’s mind was starting to race away to the future. She wanted to get back at these bastards who were trying to spoil her life. Her mind was already flashing forward to triumphant ringing denunciations she would make in court and how the edifice of the establishment would crumble at her rage. She was so swept up in her feelings that she didn’t notice Nikki’s very differently constituted silence. Chilly feelings of guilt were starting to invade the taller woman’s consciousness with that sometimes devastating honesty that she could equally turn on herself as much as on others. If she hadn’t talked Paul Williams into making her study go public. If only she had been cool headed to realize that between the two of them, they had directly or indirectly been responsible for a series of public embarrassments for the establishment. If only she hadn’t told Helen of her project and sought her support. Never mind that Paul and Helen could have come to the same conclusion, she took responsibility for her own actions. The buck stopped with her.What neither woman dared do was to think back to when they were so recently in court and seeing Fenner go down.

She finally found voice in an understated version of her worries.

“Darling, I don’t have to tell you that I’ll be absolutely here for you, practically, emotionally, anything I can do,” Nikki said, her voice melting with tenderness. She slipped her arms round the smaller woman from behind and interlocked her fingers together. It was symbolic of her feeling for her partner. ”We’ll round up the gang, George and John included. We have such a lot of talent to draw on. Tonight, we must take it easy and chill out over a bottle of wine. We need all the relaxation we can get. You know the score.”

To Nikki’s huge relief, she felt the tension in Helen’s body start to relax and leant back against her. Nikki was right, she thought as she murmured her appreciation. They stood there for a long time before Helen spoke.

“You’re right, sweetheart. Right about such a lot of things. We’ll face this one out together. God, I’m tired out.”

Nikki tenderly eased her partner down onto the settee. They suddenly both felt tired and drained and feeling that this was not quite real. The half-light threw marked shadows from Helen’s strong features as they sensed darkening shadows all around them. This was just the beginning of this nightmare, she realized only too well from her own experiences. What was starting to horrify them was the brutal way that their fortunes had so abruptly changed as delayed shock started to set in. It was symptomatic of this paradoxical thinking that Helen was curiously grateful that she had just recently posted off Karen's reference when she felt confident and energetic and nothing stood in their way.

Meanwhile,Christmas presents remained in the front room, still waiting to be wrapped.


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Scene Fifteen


Alice looked quizzically at her partner as she picked up the phone the following day. The change in George’s manner was striking as she listened to the unknown other person. It abruptly transformed their cozy domestic scene and was a turning point in their existence.

Up till that point in time, George had been her usual glamorous, loving self as Alice relaxed on the settee having set the dining room table. On this occasion, the fair haired woman was energetically setting about one of her culinary creations on her own and Alice silently understood her partner’s creative need to produce this on her own. It wasn’t personal, just George’s way of unwinding after a day in court. Alice knew beyond doubt that it would melt in her mouth and she had learnt to savour the many arts of her aristocratic lover. It was this way that they had learnt to mesh their lives together over the last few months. The warm hearted, imperturbable Alice played off well against the verbally extravagant and totally charming Georgia Channing. Alice had also learnt the art of catching George’s attention at the right moment so that she intervened just when the meal was prepared and could be allowed to simmer.

“So you’ve noticed me at last, babes,” Alice said in her sexiest tone of voice, her approving eyes transfixing George’s.

“Darling, you should know by now that I multitask. While I’m trying to seduce the food into being as succulent as it should be, I am planning on reassuring my darling lover that she is not being neglected,” George retorted in that teasing, arching tone that never failed to rouse Alice’s libido.
“So sweetheart, do we sit down to eat first?” Alice responded in as similar coin as she could conjure up.

“Afterwards. I never make love on a full stomach,” pronounced George, much to Alice’s pleasant shock of surprise. Alice felt an incredible wave of affectionate run through her system. She knew that others might see her lover as willful and possibly dictatorial but she knew that George really was sensitive to Alice’s feelings and to other peoples’. She might not necessarily display her loving feelings for all to see but they were there nevertheless.

The two women slid sideways onto the settee when George eagerly sought out the softness within Alice and soon the two women were floating on a flowing tide of desires.

“How did you ever work out how to be such a perfect lover?” Alice questioned.

“The less you try and work it out, the more you experience loving at its best,” George pronounced without the usual mannerisms. Alice knew that this came straight from her heart.

They finally sat down at the dining room table just at the right time over a candlelit dinner and, sure enough, George’s cuisine of making love and the perfect dinner made both of them feel at peace with the world.

It was then that the phone rang and their world changed dramatically. Alice felt their world suddenly turn cold and strange even as George listened to the unknown voice.

“God, I can’t believe it. Even if my loathsome ex who I shall not name, wouldn’t be that stupid,” George shouted, her emotions finally flaming out all directions.” I’ll get thinking about this case right away. You go and tell Helen that I am so incredibly sorry for what’s happened to her. Helen and Nikki have been such an inspiration to how to lead my life. I am absolutely incandescent with rage at those villains.”

Intently, Alice watched George’s rapidly shifting moods illuminate her features, as she remained silent while listening intently to the voice on the other end. Intermittently, she asked brief questions in as businesslike a fashion as she could summon up, Finally, she signed off and turned to face Alice with a grim expression on her face. Alice stood up automatically.

“What on earth has happened?” Alice exclaimed in as controlled a fashion as possible, knowing very well that the last thing George needed right then was her own histrionics.

“You might well ask, Alice. That was Claire Walker on the phone. You remember that Nikki wrote an utterly damning study of Larkhall Prison through her position in the Howard League for Penal Reform. Helen phoned up Claire in bits today as she’s been questioned under the Official Secrets Act. They even had a search team round to rifle through her papers”

“What on earth’s Helen got to do with that? I mean Nikki spent three years there and did a recent investigation. What’s there that’s secret from Nikki?”

“Good question, Alice. You know and I know what Nikki’s like and you’ve heard some of her stories from those days. As I see it, the government still see Nikki as a ‘glorified ex con’ and cannot see how Nikki’s got it right, not only about the prisoners but management. They somehow think that there’s been ‘pillow talk.’ I know how disgusting this all sounds but I’m trying to see it through their eyes after all the time I spent socialising with that fearful creep Sir Ian Rochester and that pathetic ex of mine. It sounds just like them. I can’t even begin to think how Nikki and Helen are taking it after everything they’ve been through for us all…..”

Alice threw open her arms and George stumbled forward ready to be embraced by Alice’s loving care. She couldn’t believe her reactions. She had gone through her predictable emotions of shock, voluble anger and controlled forcefulness and suddenly went over the edge to burst into tears. For a long time, she couldn’t trust herself to speak but she did let herself her sob quietly onto Alice’s silk shirt and bury her head in her lover’s breasts. She wrapped her arms round the taller woman and clung on for dear life. Deep down, George knew that part of her grief was the upsurge of all the unshed tears of the past and her shock that someone so morally upright should be landed within the grip of the criminal law. She needed Alice’s comfort more than she could put into words and Alice, bless her, knew that this solid manifestation of utter dependability gently stroked her feelings.

Alice’s large heart went out to her intensely warm-hearted lover and softly stroked her hair. Finally, Alice placed her hands on either side of the smaller woman’s face and looked down on her. She ever so gently kissed George’s forehead, each eye in turn and finally tenderly brushed her lips.
“I don’t normally cry like this,” George mumbled, shame facedly.

“It’s perfectly allowed to have caring feelings, darling. I know how fond you are of Helen and Nikki and how badly you feel at this calamity that’s overtaken them.”

“That’s just it,” George replied shakily. What residual embarrassment at exposing her feelings so nakedly evaporated. She felt normal after all.

“Let’s curl up on the settee, babes and talk this over.”

“Is Nikki being questioned as well, George? Have I got it wrong but haven’t newspapers been charged in the past?” Alice asked, after George had eagerly let herself be led and curled herself up round Alice.

“Another good question. I never thought of that. What the hell’s wrong with me? Why didn’t I work that out for myself?” George said in a dazed tone, shaking her head in disbelief. She wasn’t too proud to begrudge Alice’s sharp insight as she might have done once.

“Possibly you’re in shock, darling, and you feel the moral responsibility and burden of getting Helen out of this mess,” answered Alice in her soothing tones, receiving a grateful hug in return.

“I need to…work out what to do, to study the law, to check all the evidence,” the smaller woman said in shaky tones but Alice cut her short.

“Darling, you shouldn’t make instant decisions, not tonight and not in your present frame of mind. Leave it to the morning. You also ought to consider if you’re the best barrister to represent Helen. The danger is that you’re too close to Nikki and Helen.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” flared George. For once in her life, she wanted to do the right thing, to care in her practical way and she was being discouraged

“What about Jo Mills taking the case or at least letting her lead on the case, if I’ve got the terminology right? You told me how you’d buried all your old arguments and she might be more detached about the case in the right sort of way.”

There was a long pause while George turned the idea over in her mind.

“Hmmm, you’ve got something there, Alice. I’ll sleep on this. You might have the answer,” George said at last in a positive tone of mind. Her earlier slip of the mind had worried her that she might not have a proper grip on the case. For all her newfound sympathies, she knew deep down that there had to be a place for icy cold detachment in her approach or she wouldn’t be doing her best for her client.

“In the meantime, let’s enjoy the rest of today and chill out together,” Alice said in her soothing manner. The way that George started caressing her lover told the dark haired woman that she was right on the mark. The low sidelights cast a warm glow on the room and both women cuddled up against each other in their comfort zone.

*******

“Jesus Christ. I can’t believe it,” Karen exclaimed down the phone in total horror when Claire phoned her up. It was a heavy blow to Karen as she could so easily picture Helen’s feelings. When Alice had finished the call, Karen rattled out the details to Beth.

“Oh, hell, that’s my doing,” Beth exclaimed.” I was the one who got Nikki’s report splashed all over the Independent.” She immediately felt guilty about her journalistic piece of which she had felt so proud.

“Hey, it’s not you’re doing. For a start, the report was out in the public domain. I’d sounded like a reasonably phrased report. If I’d put anything to paper, I’d have been more scathing. I guess the establishment is jumpy over Larkhall Prison. It isn’t rational. In fact it’s bloody unjust. We’ve just got to stand by Nikki and Helen. Let’s face it, they were the main reason I didn’t go over the edge,” Karen answered, in determined tones.

Beth slipped into Karen’s welcoming arms and let herself be held by her lover. Tears streamed down Beth’s face as the full depth of her guilt for inadvertently stirring up trouble for Nikki and Helen. What made it worse was that she had meant so well in her campaigning zeal having found something to get her teeth into that she could relate to. Karen reacted the same way with no objective reason for guilt. What tore at her compassionate heart was the months when Helen and Nikki had propped up her fragile foundations and now she had also found happiness at last, her two dear friends were faced with the same mental torture that she had gone through. They couldn’t imagine at this moment getting past these feelings, which made the word shock, seem inadequate and resolve to be strong for their friends and be strong for themselves as well. As Karen cried, she remembered that she’d never done that when she’d split up with her husband, Dennis Betts, and all the men she’d been entangled with. It had been against her principles. It was only now that she knew that it wasn’t the wrong thing to do. The feel of Beth’s comforting arms reminded her of that.


*********

As Claire looked back on the whole episode, she remembered vividly how she felt when Helen phoned her from out of the blue and told her this story in a deliberately controlled and precise tone of voice. After feelings of shock and horror first flooded through her system, Claire acted the same way and suggested that she pass the word round their friends. Claire knew very well that Helen couldn’t stand to tell and retell the same horror story over and over again even knowing the intense sympathy she would undoubtedly receive. Claire had been used to surprises in her life but she had never dreamed that her law abiding old friend could conceivably be the victim of an official witch-hunt. She’d heard Helen’s stories about the hard time she had been given from Stubberfield but this was another dimension altogether. Above all else, she knew her old friend's law abiding nature and this was her worst nightmare.The trouble was that even after she’s told and retold the story many times over and become especially fluent and controlled, it still didn’t feel totally real to the lawyer in her let alone the human being.

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Scene Seventeen


On a quiet intimate Thursday night at Chix when,Trisha tentatively mentioned to Helen her idea for a romantic weekend away with Sally Anne, she received much more of an enthusiastic reception than she had thought possible, knowing her friend's predicament.Tonight, they had the freedom to chat more easily than normal.

“Trisha, you are the answer to our dreams,” Helen said in compelling tones, which carried over the lilting music."We know how both of you are flogging your guts out in running Chix. Nikki has told me a lot of what it was like. We also know that we can take a holiday with no thoughts to what’s happening while we’re away and you can’t.”

“That’s very perceptive of you, babes,” Trisha said with a slight smile on her face, noticing how Helen refused to even consider what might befall them.” It’s only fair to explain that the last weekend before Christmas is jam packed but it would be fabulous of you both if you could cover for us.”

“You’re wondering if you can impose on us with Helen’s case hanging over our heads," intervened Nikki who had walked over to within earshot.."You’ll be doing us both a favour of having a blast of loud music, partying and above all else something to keep our minds occupied with something different. I’m sure I can remember the ropes pretty well and Helen’s a quick learner.”

Trisha looked into the clear eyes and bright smile of the smaller woman who was offering to help her and Sally Anne. Suddenly a flood of emotions welled up from somewhere deep within her. It did her in when she thought that she was being offered help when this very strong kind- hearted woman and her very dear friend and ex-partner when they needed so much help for themselves.

“If I’m helping you out this way, who am Sally and I to disagree with you?” she said shakily with a faint attempt to play it cool before words and feelings poured out of her.” I wouldn’t trust our club to anyone else than you two, babes.”

She flung her arms round Helen and kissed her cheek just when Sally Anne joined Nikki in coming over to join them. Glances all round revealed that everyone was happy.


The sleek express train was stationary inside the spacious concourse that was Paddington station and, there they were, Trisha and Sally Anne, sitting at the table for two, glass of wine in their hand and luggage packed. With a smooth gliding feeling, gradually increasing in speed, they were pulled away from the enfolding blanket that was London Rapidly receding into the distance was that concentrated existence of Chix, their flat, their circle of friends as they headed off into the unknown through the rolling fields of England up north to Manchester. After chattering nine to the dozen and drinking a few glasses of wine, both women were excited and keyed up, Sally Anne no less than Trisha as the hotel was something unreal out of a brochure, never out of real life.

The taxi took them round the solid city center, whisked them past the Piccadilly Gardens and finally to the solid imposing stone structure of the Rosetti Hotel that looked both Victorian and also curiously modern. Once through the doors, both Trisha and Sally Anne’s jaws open at the beautifully tinted colour schemes, the ornamental statuettes and the tastefully displayed plants. This was another world.
“Hey Trisha, …where do we go from here?” Sally Anne asked her partner in a dazed fashion as their luggage trailed on wheels behind them.
“You should know babes, you booked this……as if I'd know the answer.”
Trisha’s gentle teasing earned her a nudge in return until Sally Anne finally spotted the reception. Their feet finally carried them towards the lavishly furnished source to all their queries..
“We’ve come for the double suite for the two of us in the name of Ms Howe,” she pronounced crisply to the clean-cut man behind the desk. Behind her, Trisha smiled approvingly at her partner’s upfront manner. She’d long since gone through the embarrassment factor in similar situations with previous lovers and Sally’s level of confidence was striking. Whatever the man thought privately to himself, he wisely kept his thoughts although the hotel was advertised as gay friendly.

Soon, they were zooming up the lift to their room and when they got inside, they were dumbstruck by the luxury on offer, even Trisha who had been used to a comfortable standard of living for years. The first thing that struck her was the contemporary art painting hanging alongside the exposed original building features of the textile mill that the hotel building had once been. This was a million miles away from just another anonymous Trust House Forte hotel you could find in any city. They stepped lightly round the suite, casting admiring glances at everything they saw. Finally, Trisha reached for the hotel brochure and sat on a chair, studiously trying to thoroughly familiarise herself with everything the hotel had to offer.


“ABode rooms are categorised as Comfortable, Desirable, Enviable and Fabulous and are beautifully and sumptuously furnished with comfort cooling, vi-sprung beds, LCD televisions and DVD players. All rooms feature contemporary design with Moltini Italian furniture and parquet floors, and include direct-dial phones, satellite television, bathrobes, complimentary toiletries. Internet access is also available throughout the hotel.” Read Trisha aloud from the hotel brochure.

“…..Abode rooms offer an especially fabulous experience for the discerning lesbian couple,” grinned Sally-Anne mischievously pretending to look over Trisha’s shoulder and continue the narration,”…….who wish to wallow in every kind of pleasurable experience, physical and sexual. The walls and ceilings are conveniently soundproofed so that no matter what the individual preference of energetic shagging, not only will the happy couple be comfortably uninhibited in their romantic rendezvous but the equally happy couple in the next suite will be similarly gratified.”

“Yeah, the hotel are ever so thoughtful and considerate to their clients in providing a spacious shower,” drawled Trisha, a wicked glint in her eye.” They must know that showers aren’t just there for washing with….”.

In no time at all, the two women had carelessly discarded their clothes on the bed and warm water was trickling down their smooth naked skin as they deeply kissed each other and ran their hands eagerly through each other’s fresh wet hair and all over their smooth curves. They felt free to laugh and love each other. Sally’s lips tasted the smooth contours of her lover’s neck, taking in gulps of air as her desires boiled over. Trisha ran her fingers up the flanks of that dark haired woman with that blissful feeling that nothing would be denied them. They moaned their feelings of desires for each other and how endearing they found each other’s little ways.

Trisha sighed with a sense of blissful surrender to her lover as those slim fingers caressed her stomach before sliding inside her and expertly pushing against her. She let out gasps of ecstasy and clung on to Sally as she was roused up into her first orgasm of the day. It was only right that they should christen their love in this gloriously luxurious suite……..

********

The rest of the Friday afternoon and nighttime passed in a delirious feeling of pleasurable sensation. They lingered over choosing any of a number of delicious meals in the Café Paradiso bar and restaurant and finally made their choice. For once in their lives, they knew that they didn’t have to hurry and that delicious sense of time passing slowly added to the dreamy ambiance.

After choosing their outfits and applying their makeup, they both headed off to the famous Canal Street area of Manchester. At the run up to Christmas, it had hotted up to a Mardi Gras type of extravagance where the two women felt perfectly at home. They drifted along the pavement which was thronged with men and women of all different appearances but whose friendliness towards a fellow soul contrasted with the cold, hard impersonal streets of London. They felt as if they were in heaven, having the lazy choice of any of a number of sights and places to go to.

They walked up the flight of steps and turned right to clatter across the metal bridge underneath which the cold, still waters of the canal lay placidly, accepting the new forms of community that had sprung up in place of the workaday environment of the past. Finally, the blinking lights of a bar the other side of the bridge took their eye.

“You’ve come up from London?” guessed the woman who served them.
“We’re on a romantic weekend here,” chattered Sally-Anne in return. The place was so relaxed that she could tell the whole world of her feelings. Sally carried the two drinks back to her lover who was waiting for her.


“It’s not like bringing coal to Newcastle,” Trisha said blissfully later on during that night. They were soaking up the ambiance while the lights twinkled all around them in one of many lesbian bars where everything was friendly. “I was secretly afraid of that when you suggested coming down here.”

“Where else should we go? You don’t have to go into a joint like this and start wondering how should this be run? “

“We haven’t got to worry about drinking and driving either, not that I’m thinking of getting drunk, just happy and sociable,” laughed Trisha softly, her fingers delicately holding the thin stem of the glass of vodka and orange.

Sitting either side of the small round table, Sally gently slipped her foot out of her slip on shoe and slid it along the back of the blond woman’s ankle while their foreheads rested against each other. This was their night and whenever they felt like, they could stroll back under the brightly lit streets to their hotel and indulge themselves in a little lovemaking in the world of their own.

*****

As they woke up in their luxury bed on Saturday morning, a nagging thought started creeping into Trisha’s mind. Part of her said to herself that she was being irrational and the other part of her blindly clamoured for attention. It was as if the club was Trisha’s child who was having a ‘sleepover’ at another mother’s house and, after the initial feeling of temporary liberation, some nagging instinct started worrying how the offspring was coping without that special care, however much the mother was trusted. Trisha lay there still, pitching that instinct against the attempt to deploy reason. It should have worked but didn’t. Finally, she voiced her fears to Sally Anne who had similar niggling thoughts but was altogether more relaxed about the matter.

“I could tell you not to worry as Nikki and Helen are the most trustworthy and responsible souls you could ever hope to imagine but I know you, babes,” the dark haired woman said patiently, finishing on a warning note.” You won’t let go. Supposing that they had done fine, they won’t be up any earlier than us. One thing I tell you, Nikki will be very blunt about the matter. You take your chances, babes.”

Trisha hesitated but that nagging urge was too strong to resist. She finally picked up the bedside direct dial phone and made the call. Sally lay on her side and against Trisha’s back and listened hard.

“Hi Nik, it’s Trisha. I wanted to phone you up to tell you that Sally and I are having a wonderful time, did the tour of Canal Street, got mildly drunk but not enough to put us off our stroke. Your idea was brilliant and I just wondered while I’m here how you and Helen got on last night…..”

“Nik, I’m really pleased you did so well. I always had confidence in you. It must be like getting on a bike again after not touching it since childhood. I admit I never learnt to ride in the first place. I promise I’ll take your advice and stop worrying. Sally can hear everything I’m saying and she’ll keep me in line……..”

“Sally-Anne is looking a little restless and I must admit that I’m not one for going down the gym as I so much like getting exercise the natural way……..”

“We’re going clothes shopping after breakfast and I promise I’ll get that book for you. It’s the least I can do……….”

“Love you, Nik. You and Helen are real stars for bullying the pair of us to take a break. I never knew what it was like to have so much free time. Bye for now.”

The wry smile on Trisha's face tried unsuccessfully to conceal from the sharp-witted Sally the very firm advice that came from the other end of the phone. A little while later, she genuinely brightened up to turn round in bed and see Sally just as the morning sun shone low through the blinds. She looked beautiful lying next to her. The dark haired woman said nothing as the most important thing was that Trisha had resolved her little problem. Both women were looking forward to a little retail therapy with a gloriously full Saturday to enjoy.

*******

Finally, Trisha and Sally Anne, fresh faced and jubilant, returned and affectionately greeted a rather tired out but temporarily happy Helen and Nikki, all ready for their Christmas break. Unknown to them, Neil Haughton chortled with malicious glee when he was told that the Department of Public Prosecutions had carefully weighed the evidence including DI Sullivan’s report and had ordered the go ahead to prosecute one Helen Stewart for offences under the Official Secrets Act. The letter would go out in the Christmas post and the press would suitably bury the news in the media ‘silly season’ in the run up to Christmas. It was all done with such indecently speed and slickness, as if the entire apparatus of the state had nothing to do than to persecute a respectable woman in her thirties who was no bank robber or terrorist. None of the bland faces around the conference table made the slightest sound of protest as after all, they had their own position to protect in the pecking order of office politics. It was their mean minded version of a Christmas Present that only petty minded people like them could conjure up. Ordinary common decency would never lower itself into the gutter like this.
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Scene Eighteen



Meanwhile, as Trisha and Sally Anne were zooming off for their romantic weekend away, Nikki had signed off from her regular job and was starting to figure out what she and Helen had to do as stand in club managers

“Right Helen, I think I know what I’m doing,” Nikki had said with an unconvincing display of confidence. Work had stabilised them through the last critical week and both knew that the next few days would be the therapy that they needed. Both knew that they needed to obsess over this set of problems so that, for once in their lives, it would stop the light of awareness in their minds being switched on. It was better this than to get obliterated on alcohol each night and, so far, this precarious form of balence was working..

“You only think you know what you’re doing? That’s encouraging. What about me? Can't you see the L plates on my back?”

“Relax babes. It’s like riding a bike. Once you’ve learned it as a kid, it all comes back to you once you get back on the saddle again. At least that’s the theory,” jested Nikki, getting into her role of light-hearted humour.

“And did you?”

“Well….no,” admitted Nikki with that comic timing that so endeared her to Helen,”but I’m assured that it works that way….. Anyway, I’ve got the keys and Trisha’s last minute notes and I must remember to take the takings to our flat and hide them under the bed. Trisha said she’ll already given the staff their Christmas presents and, oh yes, we’d better just explain that we’re standing in for Trisha and Sally Anne and……”

“So where do I fit in?” questioned Helen.

“To provide the party atmosphere, keep an eye on things in general, help out where you’re needed and, oh yes, watch out for any drunks. I remember how some of the kids overdo things a bit. Your natural bossiness and your skills as head screw won’t come amiss,” grinned Nikki, who was clearly looking forward to the experience.She knew deep down that this hypweractivity would do them good and they'd catch up with themselves when they could afford to.

Helen gave Nikki a playful slap on her behind as she walked out the door. She suspected that her lover was deliberately hamming it up to keep her spirits high. She wasn’t objecting to this therapy which seemed their only way out.


******

A curious feeling overtook Nikki as she took the familiar number of strides from her car to the front door of Chix. The action of her arm as she felt inside her trouser pocket and jiggled the keys into position told her that she was travelling back in time. She went on to open the door smoothly and her eye swivelled to the burglar alarm.

“Right, Trish…I mean Helen, er, let’s um, get the club ready to start,” she said stumbling over her words. Helen’s raised eyebrows asked the obvious question which she answered apologetically.” I’m dreadfully sorry, sweetheart. I felt I was travelling back in time. Guess this part of my past isn’t as easy to leave behind as I thought.”

“It means that you’ll be even more of an expert than I hoped. Let’s get inside, sweetheart, and you show me the ropes.”

Nikki automatically reached for the lightswitch and gestured with her outstretched arm to the foyer.

“Right, er, this is the cloakroom and a guy called Charles does security for us on the door……” Nikki started to explain to Helen who listened intently. It struck the smaller woman as they went into the main dancehall to click the lights on that Nikki was talking at length to refamiliarise herself with the club and her old identity, if temporarily, in the same way as the club itself was coming back to life.”…….Trisha was explaining to me that, after Christmas, she’s having what she calls the V I P lounge built, by a staircase to the second floor. The way things are going, we’re, I mean Trisha and Sally, are finding a lot of clubbers want loud dance music and lipreading is already getting to be an acquired art. Right after Christmas, the builders will be coming in during the daytime.”

“I’ve never heard either of us described as Very Important Persons,” grinned Helen. “John is the nearest I can think of as a VIP except he’s too much of a rebel to really count.”

“It’s our regular hangout apart from Claire and Peter’s which reminds me we haven’t looked them up for a long time. Trisha was bouncing a few ideas off me as she feared that both of them were too close to the situation and I wasn’t,” laughed Nikki in reply.

Helen realised Nikki’s intimate understanding of the unspoken question mark hovering over this sudden enthusiasm for running the club. She saw that Helen had quite enough on her plate without beginner’s nerves at being temporary club manager. Above all, Nikki deeply admired the way that Helen had never lightly taken on any responsibility in her life, herself included and the way they both focussed in on this problem was their way of keeping their worries from crowding in on them..

“So let’s get this show on the road. Do we give the staff a bit of a pep talk in advance?”

“Why not? We need it for ourselves for a start,” Nikki retorted with that spring-heeled wit that revealed her growing confidence to Helen.

******

“OK, listen up, you guys. Trisha and Sally-Anne have told you that we’re covering for them for this night and next while they’re on a well deserved romantic getaway, yeah?…….” Nikki called out loudly to the gathered staff and receiving the murmured assent. ”For those that don’t know me, I’m Nikki Wade. I used to jointly own the club but for now, I’m a regular punter. I’ll do my best to keep things ticking over with the very welcome help of my lovely partner, Helen Stewart.”

“I haven’t the experience that Nikki has but I’ll muck in and I’ll pick things up as I go along. Let’s make sure everyone has a good time.”

There was a curious smile on Helen’s face as she recalled the sensations of addressing a public meeting in a large hall but with the intriguing difference of speaking second to Nikki and temporarily subordinating herself to her. She knew instinctively that this would be good personal therapy to remove herself from her present worries and also tackle something unfamiliar. She knew also that this was exactly what the taller woman had intuitively foreseen.

************

In no time at all, the first of the clubbers started to filter in and the music started to pound rhythmically away. It gave Helen a curious sense of power as her invisible feelers went out to Charles on security, the barmaids behind and to her left and all the various functionaries at work. They eagerly greeted their friends, Karen and Beth and George and Alice who grinned at their newfound position. Helen was acutely aware that, while she chattered away to her friends as normal, she couldn’t act as she pleased. Her eyes darted to every corner of the club and sensed how their regular DJ was laying down her choice of music that went onto the dance floor. As the evening gradually warmed up, she nodded to Nikki as she saw the line start to build up at the bar as the barmaids were starting to get swamped. She moved over to the bar and mouthed her offer of help to the young woman who smiled her appreciation briefly before opening the way. She dredged out of nowhere, her dim and distant skills as a barmaid from long ago, the mathematics of multiple drink orders, the sociability and the general savoir-faire. As her extra help was slotted in, the queue started to lessen and there wasn’t quite such a need to serve at manic speed. Helen finally turned to the other woman.

“Thanks for your help. I can see you know your way round a bar,” the slight woman with short hair said with that laconic respect which meant more than she said.” I’m Ruth by the way.”

“I’m Helen, your stand in boss. I’m glad to be able to help,” Helen said cheerily. The girl’s eyes widened with astonishment. Her attention had been distracted when the speechifying took place earlier. She knew now that she should have paid closer attention.

‘Hey, I didn’t realise. What’s your daytime job if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’m paid to boss people around in a large office,” joked Helen.” This is a real change for me.”

“Well, anytime you care to help out……”

This short exchange made Helen feel on top of the world. The rhythmic pulse and the manic sense of fast changing movement were positively addictive as well as the sense of being surrounded by her own kind. She now knew why Nikki had striven so hard to build up the business as she had done and how much of a commitment Nikki had made to her in giving it all up for her. Her heart melted at the thought of her lover and, in that strange way, her thoughts made a very admiring Nikki appear before her eyes. The taller women’s very expressive brown eyes had that soft look of affection and the soft smile on her face was definitely for her.

“You’re a quick learner babes,” was her laconic observation.

“Why thank you darling,” Helen replied with her expansive smile.

“I’ve been down on the door, keeping an eye on the customers. Trisha tipped me off to watch out for drugs being smuggled in here. There’s more of it these days than when I last worked here and some of the young kids don’t know that, even these days, this place could be closed down. That sort of prejudice hasn’t died out with Gossard.”

The smaller woman was fascinated at watching Nikki at work. She’d never seen her in action like this. Her heart burned with injustice how the likes of Fenner and Sylvia had treated her. No wonder Nikki had lashed out at being so badly treated as if she were insignificant.

“Come on, babes. All we need to do is to get the feel of this night. The night is still young. We might get the chance of a dance together. After all, the club has been lent to us to run.”

Impulsively, Helen kissed the dark haired woman out of sheer affection. It was quite natural in a place that Nikki had herself once built up. The club had been wound up to that level of excitement that it ran on adrenaline and sexual attraction alone. Being at the middle of this was an energy charge and both women quite forgot the last five days of their regular jobs.

********

It was twelve- o- clock in the morning that the phone beeped next to Nikki’s bedside table. She opened one eye blearily while Helen was crashed out asleep. Only when Nikki started talking in a fairly croaky fashion did she half hear one end of the conversation.

“Helen and I had such a good time last night, babes. The whole thing was such a blast. We’ve done everything you asked. All your instructions have been faithfully followed out…”

“What I want to know is why the hell you’re worrying about how the club has gone on while you’re away? You’re there to pleasure Sally Anne in every exotic way possible, hit the shops and spend a fortune on clothes and totally pamper each other. We’ll see you when we see you. ….Look, babes, much though I love talking to you, you should be pleasuring Sally Anne right now. After all, it’s daylight……..”

“Don’t I know your habits from way back, Make sure that you and Sally have a fantastic time of it. Don’t worry, Trish, we’ll hold the fort till you get back and I expect a blow by blow account of your holiday and I’d be so grateful if you get that book on lesbian poetry from Rossini Books………”

“I’d love to chat but my head is splitting from overdoing it last night. Love you, Trish.”

Helen lay back in bed, still half conscious, still feeling wrecked from last night while Nikki carried on her conversation. She knew that one more night would finish her off in the most delightful way possible and that Christmas Eve might even be a day they could slob around with that wiped out feeling from too much party spirits. She relished that idea as a buffer before the new year started.

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Scene Nineteen


Charlie had grown up with several fixed reference points in her none too conventional upbringing, which had given her a curious sense of stability and constancy. One was the hostility between her parents, which had been ground into her very DNA even before they separated. Another was her father’s hopeless womanizing, her mother’s coldness and their joint love for her in their different ways. The third was her uncomplicated mutually warm affection for her grandfather and also for Jo Mills when she was around and hadn’t distanced herself from John. Christmastime was, above all, when all these conundrums collided against each other at a time when there was supposed to be rose tinted family good feeling.

By contrast with the women of Chix, John had a quiet sedate Christmas. He cooked the Christmas dinner as always and Charlie, as usual, was sprawled in front of the television, luxuriating in the temporary feeling of being back in her childhood home. While John juggled the relative cooking times of the turkey, the roast potatoes, sausages and various stuffings, he foresaw that this Christmas would be different from ones gone by. At one time, John was barely on speaking terms with both George and Joseph and he had therefore celebrated it alone with Charlie. She had dutifully if unwillingly seen George over the Christmas break and had more enthusiastically seen Joseph who has spoiled her outrageously when given the chance. He always came round on Boxing Day and this year, promised to be an uncomplicated affair as the two men were now on the friendliest possible terms. When it came to George, this was a trickier matter. Charlie sensed immediately how he gingerly trod carefully around the matter.


Charlie had been given notice that while she was away at university for months on end, her curiously disjointed family wouldn’t carry on their ritual dances round each other as they had done in the past. For a start, she had barely come home for summer when her father had cajoled her into helping her make up picket signs for his absurdly and outrageously successful judge’s strike. When she had gone back to university, her father’s exploits had been the talk of the campus and she had the curious sensation that her father had ‘outcooled’ her. It gave her a peculiar feeling of being upstaged as she had supposed that her father had put that form of radicalism behind him. This was the first step in her disorientation . She then found out that her mother had broken up with Neil Haughton, whom she had never liked and she sensed that that her parents were becoming friendlier with each other. This gave her a totally weird feeling that she couldn’t get to grips with. On top of that, her mother had totally and utterly surprised her by revealing that she had a new lover and who was female. The cumulative effect of all these changes had thrown her into a complete flat spin. She had started loudly objecting to her mother about things being not what she was accustomed to when this very tall sophisticated warm-hearted woman had appeared from out of nowhere and had disarmed her immediately. This woman called Alice had looked into and through her eyes, had sensed her fears straightaway and calmed her down. By now, she really couldn’t get to grips with the way the world had become. Most of all, she couldn't get over how everyone was acting so weirdly reasonable and nicetowards each other.

“So you’ll give up calling your mother ‘Ice Maiden?” Alice pursued relentlessly. “For a start, your father really doesn’t like it, especially as he is now friends with your mother. For another, you can see what a lovely woman your mother has now become, the person she has really always wanted to be.”

How can you argue with a social worker? I thought dad was tough enough opposition, but this woman is running rings round me. Charlie thought ruefully, as Alice deftly and humanely removed her defences and talked the truth. She really couldn’t be angry with her, as she had to admit that somehow she’d certainly turned her mother around.

“I don’t know, Alice. She’s always acted that way. It takes time to deal with changes in life.”

“Meaning that the older generation is more flexible than yours, Charlie?” Alice asked impishly of this girl who had looked ready to take off in flight. To Alice’s great relief, this young woman visibly calmed down as she took in deep breaths and finally looked Alice in the eye. She nodded agreement and fixed Alice with her gaze. That was her way of telling Alice that her presence really did matter

“All right, Alice. I’ll try and make friends with mum….and thanks for your help,” Charlie added graciously, earning warm smiles of recognition from Alice and Mum. She could get used to this when she thought about it…….it was really what she wanted all along, feelings of security. She was starting to realize that she was getting it without having to look for it.

******

“So what do you want out of life, dad?” she pursued while they dined at the Christmas table, the familiar warmth of Christmas dinner and a modicum of alcohol coursing through her veins.” Mum and Alice are an obvious item.”

“To tell you the truth, I really don’t know. In the public arena, I’m happy to be in the position I’ve got after all these years. I’m involved in a battle without end with the apparatchiks and I’m in good company. Even George after all these years is rallying round……I’ve even gained the close friendship of two very courageous women, Nikki and Helen, who will need all their courage in coming up against a trial under the Official Secrets Act,” John said softly to himself. He lay down his knife and fork and meditatively held a glass of wine by its narrow stem before taking a sip. His mood shifted between gentle self-satisfaction and anger that the lives of two dear friends could be so tragically and unwarrantably threatened. His copy of the ‘Times’ lay crumpled up on the side.

“You know what I’m talking about dad,” Charlie persisted.” I know very well about all the women you’ve slept with. The nearest you’ve ever become settled down is with Jo Mills. I do like her and I always thought you’d be good for each other.”

“Easier said than done at my time in life,” smiled John.

“So is it any easier at mine?” Charlie retorted.” What sort of example are you setting me in building lasting relationships?”

“You’ve got me there,” John admitted ruefully. This startled Charlie as she had expected her father to smoothly slide away from being pinned down. She'd always felt that his facility for words was far too good for his own welfare. “I know that I’m a good father but I haven’t been a good husband. Let’s say that I really don’t think Jo would trust me. We have been close before and just when she felt safe with me, I’d stupidly betray her by sleeping with a woman who afterwards I never thought twice about…..”

“Are you really up for committing yourself to a long term relationship or is it just an attractive fantasy?”

“I’ve thought a lot in recent months, Charlie. The attractions of conquests and the one night stand have lost their attraction when I see the very real bond between Nikki Wade and Helen Stewart.”

“You know, dad, you’re talking about them as if they’re friends. That’s totally bizarre, you seeing women that way,” Charlie said, astonishment written all over her face and in her tone of voice.

“You may well wonder, Charlie,” John laughed.” But it has worked out that way. Maybe it might be the saving of me.”

“Like the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future,” joked Charlie to John who flinched in return. He could see the writing on the wall in his personal life. There was a pause before Charlie continued on another topic.” Helen Stewart….that article in page 10 of the Times didn’t say an awful lot, did it?”

“That says it all, Charlie. I know the whole thing’s a totally scandalous stitch up by Neil Haughton and his cronies.”

“You won’t be allowed to try the case will you,” observed Charlie in answer to her father’s anger which she immediately realised was righteously chivalrous.

“More’s the pity. Still, there are other judges who will give her a fair trial.”


******


“John,” Joseph asked in a very hesitant fashion down the phone.” I’ve a rather unusual request to make of you. You know I’m coming over later on….”

“Naturally, Joseph,” John answered cordially enough.

“I take it you’ll have the usual cold buffet ready….”

“…..and your favourite malt whisky,” John responded, starting to wonder where the catch was.

“I hope I’m not causing any problems but I was wondering if you would object to George and Alice coming over. They’re here with me already.”

There was a silence as John chewed this over. His talk with Nikki and Helen had shifted a lot of hang-ups in his mind but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to face this one.

“John, say something, dammit,” Insisted Joseph.” At least she isn’t bringing over that weasel, Neil Haughton. You must admit that Alice is very tactful and charming. It was you who pointed out how George has become more human and kinder than she used to be and it's clear that this has been down to Alice’s influence.”

John laughed with an attempt at heartiness. He knew that George’s happiness with Alice would only highlight what was lacking in his life. That was a bad reason to deny their presence.

“Is Alice coming over? Cool,” Charlie intervened over his shoulder. That tipped the balance.

“Joseph, you’ve won me round. Tell George and Alice that they would be only too welcome.”

John and Charlie had laid the buffet out on the side when there was a loud knock on the door. It felt to John that a flow of people gushed through the door, Joseph leading the way, heartily shaking John by the hand, visibly relieved by John’s diplomacy. George came in, visibly glowing, dressed in a simple decorous black dress, just off the knee. Her blue eyes were smiling gratefully at John as she kissed John on his cheek.

“I can’t thank you enough for being agreeable enough to welcome us all over. I know that we have been asking a lot of you. If you hadn’t guessed before, this is my partner, Alice.”

“It’s good to meet you at last, John,” she said, extending her hand.” I’ve heard so much about you from George, not to say from Nikki and Helen who are quite fans of yours.”

John took in the warmth of this tall, statuesque woman with long dark hair. . He instantly took to this woman. She fitted in perfectly with George and immediately that made everything fine in his mind.

“I’m incredibly glad you all came over, especially Alice, whom I’ve been very remiss in not meeting before,” John said, his eyes ablaze with disinterested delight.” That will be remedied in future, I promise. My daughter Charlie who is engrossed in putting on her makeup has spoken well of you.”

“I’ll take you up on the offer,” came Alice’s gracious reply before John turned his attention to George. Joseph was beaming over his face, pleased beyond measure at how things had turned out. Even as they had made their way over, he still had secret misgivings.

“George, you have changed so much for the better. I remember it was only this time last year you told me and I quote,’Neil is taking me to a fantastic party today of the great and the good. I shall wear my finest dress.”

“Don’t remind me,” George shuddered.” If I heard any taped conversations of myself from the past, I swear to God that I would vomit. Daddy of course would defend everything I’ve ever done in my life, right or wrong. Alice,” she added,” John is only telling the truth about me.”

“George, forgive me my tactlessness, What I was getting at is that you have so much future in front of you.”

Charlie came out with a tray of drinks that she knew each of them would like. Her mother’s social skills hadn’t been passed down to her in vain. They turned round at this perfect timing and helped themselves to the glasses.

“I’m proposing a toast. To the future,” John proclaimed.”To all our futures and especially to absent friends, those two brave women out there who are under the cosh.”

They all knew who John referred to, Alice with especially grateful surprise. She thought well of this man and she could see how George might have once been in love with him, despite his imperfections. All of them drank heartily to that prayerful wish which bonded them all. All it needed was for this to be turned into reality. That would await the New Year.

************

Helen and Nikki thought by the time they had got to New Year’s Day that they done a far better job in getting through the Christmas period than they had feared. They had got their way by the skin of their teeth through the psychic dangers of too much time on their hands could bring. All their friends came round during this period and were incredibly compassionate and caring, even minor acquaintances like Ros and Jenny who pulled up in their police car in between chasing up the usual drunk drivers. It was a new year, new resolutions and they had the crumb of comfort that they had started the ball rolling by getting Claire and George up to speed. It seemed strange that Helen had been the supportive one through Nikki’s two appeals and now she should let herself be emotionally bolstered in turn by their circle of dear friends and get the finest legal muscle on board as well. At the end of the day they huigged each other to reassure each other that the other was stuill there. Nikki was incredibly thankful that they would come to the day when they would face whatever horrors lay ahead of them and that they were both together.


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kchardbody
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I just page 1 and will be caught up soon.
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richard
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Hi kchardbody, nice to see you around. Hope I'm not posing too many problems posting this next scene. I update weekly.


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


Scene Twenty


Suddenly, there came a turnaround in the situation, a few short days into the new year, something that took Nikki completely aback. Suddenly, everything jumped right out into the open and Nikki hadn't seen it coming and neither had Helen, for that matter. Just how or why this had been sparked off, neither woman could recollect afterwards.

For some unnaccountable reason, all Helen's emotions had finally spilled out after remaining dormant during the run up to Christmas and up to the New Year.The stark electric lights illuminated this clash of wills between two women who could see each other's point of view so very clearly. That was the tragedy of the situation as they had been together in their resolution only so recently.

"Helen darling, I can't let you throw yourself away like this," Nikki pleaded.

"You remember what we were like at Fenner's trial,"Helen insisted relentlessly with steely logic."We were glad the bastard was going to get sent down. Now we know how it feels."

The inflexible logic of it all beat down Nikki's power of reason. In a split second sense of desperation, Nikki fought against their destiny that Helen relentlessly mapped out. She knew that Helen was too bloody right but that wasn't the ultimate answer surely. In that blinding flash, Nikki knew that when driven to the ultimate point of desperation, she relied on her gut instinct whereas Helen relied on her reason. She was pulled back in time to when they argued desperately in the PO's office after the tumultuous events of Nikki's desperate breakout to her flat to make it up to Helen, and being smuggled back into Larkhall while Fenner lay in a prison cell, bleeding. Helen was quite right in saying that 'they had to let go' but underneath, Nikki sensed Helen 's overdeveloped sense of guilt of being just like Fenner, only the world's biggest hypocrite.Whatever logic said, life couldn't be like this, she protested violently inside herself. Life couldn't be so unjust, there had to be some other way. It was that powerful instinct that gave her the only ray of light in the darkness that suddenly threatened to swallow them both up.

"Helen, you're the most beautifully moral wonderful woman I've ever known. You're right in saying that we were crowing over Fenner being sent down and look what is happening to us and you're right- up to a point.. You're overlooking one basic fact. Fenner was as guilty as hell and tried to stitch up Karen for murder. He only got sent down for murder, not for coldly, calculatingly trying to do down Karen. Think of the grief she suffered over him."

"I can't deny what you're saying and I know you mean well but I can't stop feeling the way I feel," Helen said with a face like stone, her emotions all over the place.

"Helen darling, there's one thing that I know about you. Your trouble is that you've got an overdeveloped sense of guilt and that's down to your upbringing. Your father lives within you more than you like to think."

"And what if he does?"

"It doesn't have to stay that way,"pleaded Nikki desperately."OK, you can decide to throw yourself off the cliff but you can choose not to. Doesn't every religion under the sun, every belief system you care to name say you have choices? Just look into my eyes and know that every word I'm saying is the absolute truth."

Nikki's beautiful brown orbs held Helen's gaze and her impassioned words steered her away from the black doom that she was sightlessly looking into. She'd put every ounce of conviction into this last desperate gamble.The feel of her lover's arms, the desperate love flowing out of her and the words she spoke finally got through to Helen. She slumped into her lover's eyes and cried out all her emotions. Above all else, she knew that Nikki was right. She knew also that no one else but Nikki could have got through to her like this and this was an extreme measure of their love. As they lay down together on their bed for the next few hours, oblivious of everything, both knew that what was to happen to them both would be stressful but not impossible to face


***********

George had deliberated long and hard over Alice’s judgment on the matter when she had first heard the dreadful news about Helen. She had got to understood how Alice could easily be placed in a similar dilemma in her job as a social worker where her client could so easily be someone she knew in private life. She seriously wondered that she might not be the best person to handle Helen’s case only because she cared too much about it. When she had received the news from Claire that the Department of Public Prosecutions were intending to proceed against Helen, she took it with grim fortitude but no great surprise. For God’s sake, they’d even arranged the trial date for Thursday and Friday January 24h – 25th 2002. After all, she knew only too well the kind of minds that were capable of such actions and the vindictiveness with which their energy was concentrated on crushing opposition. While her mind was made up as to her next move, she was unsure how to phrase it.

Jo looked at George thoughtfully, having been taken aback by her unexpectedly hesitant approach for advice on a case that had come her way. She never doubted the other woman’s sincerity and never questioned her instinct. She rather suspected who the client was, having heard the jungle drums beat its way loudly round the brethren. After George had told her story, Jo took in a sharp intake of breath as Helen’s name was confirmed but otherwise, took it in her stride and realized that this was just her meat and potatoes. After Jo gave her verdict, she thought that George looked surprisingly relieved that Jo had taken the burden of responsibility off her shoulders but underneath, her manner was disconsolate, despite her attempts to hide it. Finally, Jo hit upon the ideal solution.

“George, I get the feeling that you both want the involvement but you’re scared of the responsibility only because you feel too much for your clients.”

The way George exhaled her breath told the other woman everything. A solution came straight off the top of Jo’s head.

“George, I have thought of an idea which has literally come to me this very minute. I’m not sure how you’ll take it, knowing how proud and independent you are…….”

“That’s your polite way of saying that I am a domineering prima donna. You’re right, I used to be like that but believe me, I’ve been put through such a lot of changes. You put your proposal to me and I might just surprise you,” retorted George with a playful glint in her eye.

“Very well,” Jo laughed appreciatively at the other woman’s appealing directness of manner,” I’ll get to the point. I’ll take the lead in court but you could be there to advise and assist. For the preliminaries, we’ll thrash out the issues together as equals. That gives you an input, the satisfaction of helping out and takes away your fear of letting down a close friend. I have the advantage of knowing both Nikki and Helen but not being as close as you evidently are to them. Do you want to go away and think about it overnight?”

“My mind’s made up. You’re on, Jo,” exclaimed George immediately.” I couldn’t wish for anything better.”

Jo shook George’s hand warmly. This was far easier than she expected. It was a good omen for the future.

“Let’s get this show on the road and fix up a meeting with Claire,” Jo added.

“It goes without saying that Nikki sits in on the meetings. Her presence is worth her weight in gold. Your office or mine? I’m easy either way,” chipped in George.

“Definitely yours, George. It’s classier than my rabbit hutch, which is still in a state after my move back to this part of the world. Besides, I’m willing to be tempted by the nearby shops in Oxford Street……….,” Jo said. Her broad grin gave way to a more contemplative, nostalgic mood as she remembered fighting Nikki’s reappeal. ”I’ll enjoy seeing them both again.”

****************


Claire was left to handle all the arrangements as a trusted helpmate of George and Jo and she advised Helen where to go. She didn’t explain the precise arrangements for representation in advance.


“Hi Nikki,” Jo greeted the taller woman who extended her hand.” It’s been a long time that I’ve had the pleasure of both your company and Helen’s. I’ve been working away up North until recently. It seems that I’ve come back at the right time…… ”

Instantly, Jo noticed the contrast between the alert precise woman of a year or so ago and this woman who was tense, pale faced and obviously making an effort to stay controlled. She figured that Helen had been outwardly strong and determined until today when she was forced to focus on the serious reality of her situation and found it scary.

“Obviously, I wish that I’d meet you in happier circumstances but they will be if we push hard enough for it. Let’s take a seat and get down to business. ”

The tactful words did the trick as Helen relaxed a little even while she threw questioning glances at George who stayed politely in the background.

“Obviously, we’re delighted to meet you again, Jo, but……,”the smaller woman started to say hesitantly, with a too expansive smile on her face that flickered on and off. Jo gently intervened.

“George and I think we’ve come up with a solution to a problem that we’ve identified. Claire outlined the case to George who is worried that, because she has grown to be such a close personal friend of you both, she might not be as detached and objective as she should be,” Jo explained calmly, exchanging sidelong glances with George and receiving visual approval in return.” We both think that for this reason, I should lead the case in court but that she assists and in the run up to the case, both of us are equally involved. How does that grab you both?”

The two women drew a huge breath of relief, as they had feared that they would be asked to choose between two highly talented barristers. Now they knew that this wasn’t going to be a problem. Jo turned her attention to Helen.

“Claire’s found me a copy of Nikki’s report. It certainly doesn’t take any prisoners but George and I feel that, considering her experience, it’s pretty fair and balanced. Obviously, I want to go through it in detail but I think it would be helpful if you could both take us through anything that you might have given to Nikki that could be used against you.”

“Do you mean in writing or verbally?” Helen queried, licking her lips nervously. She knew that question was coming but it didn’t make it any easier in answering, not when having to ransack her memories of endless conversations she’d had with Nikki over the years. It made her feel uncomfortable as the questions threatened to place her lover in the role of ‘prisoner’ or ‘former prisoner,’ something that both woman had so thankfully put behind them, or so they had both thought. Helen didn’t have to look at Nikki to tell that her partner felt the same as she did.

“When Nikki’s first appeal came up, I photocopied her prison file and let you have a copy of it, Claire. You remember me telling you that, Nikki?”

Claire coloured. She could remember it very well and was embarrassed that apparent professional lapse came out in front of two barristers that she highly respected.

“I didn’t know it could be potentially dangerous, Jo……”

“Relax, Claire. From what I can see of looking through your old appeal papers, Nikki, it acted as a pointer to information that came out in open court from my memories of the case. Besides, you know it, we do it but do the government? It wasn’t in the trial papers for a start.”

“We’re just glad to be advised of it. The last thing we need are any surprises sprung on us in court,” added George helpfully.

“So what about verbal official secrets? Like what is a verbal secret in Larkhall?” Helen stammered even while Nikki held her hand protectively.” That’s a big question and so much happened at the time? I remember talking to Nikki about the report I did on Fenner being stabbed by Shell Dockley, telling her in advance that I couldn’t find anything to pin on him. I talked to you about, oh yes, Monica Lindsay and how everyone in authority had failed to persuade her to carry on with her appeal after her son’s death and could she help.”

“Darling, let’s start at the other end with Nikki’s report and go through it in detail,” cut in George.” From what I can see, you were extraordinarily well informed about the management culture as if you had been a fly on the wall. For a start, you knew about the system that Dr Waugh set up which was when you were in Larkhall. How did you find out that it had been discontinued?”

“I’m sure Helen must have told me about it sometime since we left Larkhall,” Nikki said in vague tones. “I think she only confirmed something I knew already, probably from Yvonne. I know I tackled Dr No No when I did my investigation and he brazenly admitted it. Perhaps, I ought to explain just how the ‘prisoner’s grapevine system works?” she tentatively added.

“What do you think, Helen?” Jo enquired of the smaller woman.” We need to cross-check everything as far as possible.”

Finally, the uncertain conversation got into gear as the five women chipped the conversation back and forth between them. Both Jo and George were thoroughly attentive and didn’t hesitate to ask further questions as they started to mentally immerse themselves into the strange and alien world of Larkhall Prison. It naturally enabled her to get the feel for the background knowledge of Nikki’s own investigation. Both women knew that official reports only went so far as it was confined to demonstrable facts and didn’t include the intangible human dimension.

“There’s only thing I don’t understand, George,”Jo said slowly at last.” On the face of it, the prosecution case boils down to the simple proposition that Nikki couldn’t have been so well-informed about the prison service. ………”

“………or alternatively it is quote, ‘a scandalous misrepresentation of it’,” chipped in George.”I am only using words my ex would say, not my words.”

“That’s a possible alternative,” agreed Jo,” and therefore that you could never have described it in the sort of detail you have used.”

“Is it possible that they simply can’t believe that I would get to know about the prison system as much as I do and they see me as just another ‘ex con’ and therefore I must have had assistance? Besides, hadn’t that Sir Ian guy been watching my reappeal, Sally Anne’s case and Karen’s case? They can’t help but think that Helen and I are joined at the hip…….”

“….and so you absolutely are, darlings……” murmured George affectionately to Jo’s raised eyebrow. She hadn’t seen that side of George before.

“Yes, well, so we are,” smiled Nikki briefly,” but they must imagine that Helen tells me of the darkest secrets of Larkhall Prison every time we settle down to bed.”

"Then there's the search of your house and they've not turned up nothing of substance," Jo pursued."There's just one final question that comes to mind. I assume you had the use of a computer when you worked for Larkhall. What happened to it when you resigned and did you keep any prsonal stuff on it?"

"I used it purely for work purposes and I handed it back when I resigned. My feelings when I left Larkhall was that I wanted shot of the place, well everything except Nikki," Helen said with prompt decisiveness.

“Then that's the end of the matter ,” Jo concluded.” Somehow I get wary when it seems like our case is too easy.”

“We have to go on what we’ve got. Quite frankly, we’ve got courage and class on our side. You leave this to Jo and me but don’t hesitate to contact us if you come up with anything new. I don’t know about you but I for one am dying for a cup of tea. I’ll arrange this for five? Yes,” George finally summarized to a feeling of cautious satisfaction. The meeting reinforced the feelings that they were all by now veterans in the art of taking on the establishment. There was a definite sense of purpose and Helen smiled slightly for the first time that she entered the room.

******


It was after Helen, Nikki and Claire had gone their separate ways in good spirits when the phone rang. Jo sat back in a comfortable chair while a beaming smile spread across George’s face.

“Alice darling! How thoughtful it is of you to phone up and ask how I went on. Jo Mills and I are just finishing off before she, no doubt, explores the shops. The meeting went really well and we are pretty sure of the facts…….yes, you’re right, it doesn’t guarantee pulling the rabbit out of the hat but at least we feel pretty secure and I know how I’ll fit in with Jo. I’ll be off fairly early tonight and I’ll cook you something special…..I’m really sorry that you’ve not had a very good day. You can rely on me to make you feel more relaxed, trust me to know what to do for you…..”

Jo heard George’s frank and uninhibited intimate call with Alice and her very sexual laugh. She had operated on past experience, and hadn’t really absorbed the fact that, yes George really must be a lesbian. There is a difference between hearing about something new and really internalizing it, or so she supposed.




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richard
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Scene Twenty-One



While Beth was asleep, Karen quickly got dressed in jeans and white sweater and made a cup of coffee while keeping a sharp eye on the post. The local St Mary’s Hospital had interviewed her the week before Christmas for a permanent nursing post and said that they would let her know the result of her job. She had been up with the lark for the past few working days and, this time, the letter plopped through her letterbox that she had expected. Padding out in bare feet, she opened it carefully and her heart leaped inside her with joy. Their reply was good news and that she would definitely be starting at the end of the month. She jumped around shouting to herself, clutching the piece of paper and rushed into the bedroom.

“Beth, I’ve got the job I’ve been angling for. I’ve got a permanent job at last.”
“Hey, that’s fantastic news,” came the surprisingly coherent reply, straight up from total sleep.” Come here, babes.”
Karen slid on the bed next to her lover, her hair slightly rumpled but a big smile on her face. Beth’s slim arms extended themselves and wrapped themselves round the fair-haired woman. The fullness of their lips met and their tongues caressed each other. Karen sighed to herself blissfully, thinking just what a magic morning it was when really it was quite normal after all.

“Darling, you’ve got too many clothes on for my liking,” Beth drawled at last, her eyes looking up expectantly at the woman whose eyes were alight with the joys of life.” We’ll talk about your job….after.”

Karen looked down at her lover, looking so alluring in her delicate lacy white nightie which suggested the curves that she knew so well. She felt on top of the world with energy coursing through her nervous system. She pulled her sweater over her head and threw it to one side. The sudden sight of her lover’s full figure, tousled hair and laughing blue eyes was irresistible to Beth and also the way that her lover didn’t beat about the bush in unzipping her jeans and sliding back into bed.
“Come on, Beth. I thought you were in a hurry,” cajoled Karen in those husky tones that Beth had such a weakness for. She was already sliding her hands greedily up Beth’s slim body and expertly touching her nipples.

“You give me a bit of space for a minute, babes and then I am all yours,” retorted Beth, lingering over the words. After she had cast her nightie aside, Karen stared down with desire at her lover’s already hardening nipples and the look of desire all over her face. She laid her body alongside Beth’s and greedily started kissing and licking her lover’s smooth neck, whose legs were already wrapping themselves round Karen. The blond haired woman felt unbelievably horny this morning and her desires flowed outwards. She edged her way down Beth’s body while her lover gently caressed her skin and hair and, after she had slowly and lovingly licked one nipple after another, kissed her way down that flat stomach to where her desires wanted her to be. She was in seventh heaven as her tongue expertly coaxed her lover to excitement to the accompaniment of Beth’s moans of pleasure and the taste of her on her tongue. The feel of their skin against each other was a delight that was so impossibly extreme, of touching and being touched. At moments like these, Karen felt so incredibly grateful to Beth for liberating her to the delights of lesbian lovemaking. What was music to her was the sounds of another woman’s sighs of pleasure and words of endearments and ecstatic sounds building up to a climax of adoration. Above all else, she knew that Beth’s feelings were utterly genuine and it was that that unlocked Karen’s fierce emotions, so long denied inside.


Thoughts rushed through Karen in no particular order as she and Beth finally got dressed, ready for the day. They curled up around each other in the large and capacious armchair while they discussed their plans. It felt far more comfortable than being all stiff and formal round a table. Office organization was the death of the intimate expression of feelings, so Karen thought so strongly, after her long experience over the years. The feel of Beth’s slim fingers against her white sweater along the line of her bra felt far more intimate and normal rather than disembodied office politics, divorced of real feelings. She knew now that Helen’s trial would take place before she was due to start work for her new job. It meant that she could carry on working as an agency nurse and she could definitely set aside time to stand by Helen and Nikki at the trial.Amidst her own and Beth's personal joy, she never let it deflect her from her own worries as to their friends' predicament.


“So about this job, babes, this is a really permanent job? I can’t believe it, not that you haven’t slaved for it.”
“I’ve got to pass through a three months probation period but the beauty of all the temping that I’ve done is that I’ve picked up on a whole range of work experience, including some work at St Mary’s already. I’ve made my name there already,” came Karen’s rush of enthusiastic words, which gladdened the heart of the dark haired woman. She wanted so much for her lover to have wings to fly with.
“It sounds like you’ve got it made, babes. Pretty soon, you’ll be running the ward if I know you.”
“Hardly that, darling,” denied Karen modestly though secretly thinking that her solid managerial experience at Larkhall might stand her in good stead yet.” I’ve checked out just how the NHS has changed since I last worked in it full-time. If I stick at it, I should be all right.”
“I’m really happy for you, babes. I know how good things are between ourselves personally but I also want to see you where you belong.”
“This does mean, of course, that I can properly pay my way and, when I get my first paycheck, I mean to treat you to a romantic meal out, for …..everything you’ve done for me,” Karen finished in melting tones. All her feelings of love and gratitude came pouring out in that instant.

There came the time when both of them had to make a move. She knew that Beth would be preoccupied with a journalism assignment that morning.

“Darling, I’ll pop over in the car to see Nikki and Helen,” called out Karen to Beth. That was fine for both of them as both knew that they’d be back for each other.

“Give my love to them both,” called Beth as their lips locked one more time.

********

Karen was out into the morning’s air, driving round London in her little MG. She could never get bored of driving as, thank God, she was in a position to be driving her car rather than think of it rusting away in that police pound. It felt nippy and maneuverable as she steered it along that well remembered route to Nikki and Helen’s flat. Confidently, she strode up the steps and a wave of good feeling took her into the hall, where she was affectionately received, duly kissed on her cheek and hugged by each grateful woman.

“I’ve sorted out my plans for the future. I’ve got a permanent job at St Mary’s hospital. You will see Karen Betts in her blue nurse’s uniform and stopwatch and a regular wage at the back of me.”

“That’s fantastic news, Karen. I’m so glad for you. I bet you a fiver you’ll be ward sister in six months if not sooner or whatever they call them these days,” Helen said with unaffected pleasure, putting her own troubles to one side.

“Do you know, Helen, you’re the second person to say that today?” Karen said with certain levity while blinking tears out of her eyes at the smaller woman’s generosity of spirit. It was curious but in these recent months, she found it easier to cry and it didn’t cross her mind to feel foolish about that.

“Beth being the other of course,” added Nikki dryly.“ Better face it, it’s a toss up whether your best friend or your lover knows you best. It all depends on the quality of the relationships.”

“I’ll make coffees for us all,” added Helen, with that air of wanting to jump up and do something practical.

Everything seemed amicable and friendly on this winter Saturday and Helen hospitably fetched three mugs of steaming hot coffee into the lounge and the conversation ambled along and started to touch on the oncoming trial. This gave Karen the opportunity to show that her good fortune would benefit her friends also. Karen’s positivism of spirits felt irresistible to herself.

“I was wondering if you’ll need my company when it gets nearer to the trial. I’ve figured out that I can carry on with temping for the agency till my regular job starts and fit my hours round the court hearing and before then as well if need be.”

“Sure,” Nikki answered in deliberate tones, not quite her spontaneous self.” You know that you are welcome, any time you call. The only problem is that, with the best will in the world, we’re going to get tense. We may well need your calming influence.”

“That’s really kind of you, Karen but are you sure you can take all this on? You know how wearing trials can get,” warned Helen very compassionately.

The penny had finally dropped for Karen. Helen and Nikki were obviously thinking back to when Karen was downing way too much whisky than was good for her and on the edge of a nervous breakdown. They had got things wrong and this time, Karen could see that she could contribute that strength and clarity of vision. She was definitely needed around here.

“We’ll really be grateful for your help, Karen. We just wanted to be straight with you,“ Nikki bit off her tongue from talking about Fenner having done them a favour as the guy was doing time and she knew how sensitive Helen really was about her forthcoming trial despite her best efforts.

“I know what you’re really getting at, you two. This time around, I can be strong for you both. I know how I can carry the weight this time. I’m even better than I used to be now I’ve got Beth,” Karen explained.” You have to see that I can’t possibly not help you. You’ve both stuck by me through thick and thin when I stood to get a ten-year stretch for a crime I didn’t commit. But for you, Nikki and of course George, I would have got sent down and gone completely over the edge.”

“We debated it amongst ourselves and we felt duty bound to help you,” added Helen stiffly with obvious effort. Karen began to sense that just now and then, the smaller woman couldn’t suppress the strain that leaked out of her and that her tension was also rubbing off onto Nikki.

“You even inadvertently found me the love of my life,” pursued Karen with fierce urgency and conviction, not deterred from her mission.” I’ve talked this over with Beth and she’s all for the idea. I’m sure that Nikki will give you all the tender support before the day in court but if there’s any role for me, just tell me. I know what it’s like, believe me.”

A few tears escaped Helen’s large green eyes before she flicked them out of her eyes. It was down to them to lay their cards on the table.

“I’m really sorry, Karen. You might have got the idea that we were emotionally freezing you out. The truth is that we’re really waking up to realize that this trial is for real, no matter how irrational and stupid it sounds. Up till now, we’ve been into emotional denial. We went to a meeting with George and Jo the other day with the intention of treating it as an academic exercise. What freaked us out that even Jo and George thought that the establishment is either being incredibly stupid or that they knew something we didn’t. In all the court cases we’ve fought or backed, we’ve got cocky in thinking that nothing bad could possibly happen to us. You came round on a bad day for us but we don’t want to think you weren’t welcome. We would really love you to help us out.”

Karen reached forward and put her arms round Helen who silently cried into the other woman’s fair hair. She clung onto the fair-haired woman as a drowning woman onto a rock. A minute later, she felt a fresh pair of soft arms round her and knew it was Nikki. She made shushing sounds into their ears and stayed with them until they finally got through to the other side of their emotions and everything was all cried out.

“Thanks a million, Karen.” Nikki said shakily, her emotions written all over her face. “The trouble is that neither of us wanted to admit to the other that we were feeling the pressure.”

“I understand you entirely. It’s a strange British quality to be bad at accepting help and, for that matter compliments,” Karen said in a calm reassuring tone of voice.” You’ve both got it even worse than I have if that’s possible. Till recently, I didn’t let anyone in on my own traumas, believe you me.”

“That’s true,” Nikki laughed shakily, flicking tears out of her own eyes. “I don’t know what we can do about it, that’s our problem.”

“Just accept help when it’s kindly offered,” came Karen’s simple soothing reply.

*****

The harsh winter wind howled round the flat where Karen and Beth lived. Beth had gone out to work early leaving Karen a start at an old people’s home where the agency had sent her for three days this week, the first day being a half-day. She remembered the very emotional conversation she’d had with her two dearest friends the previous day. She felt that she was returning some of the enormous help that she’d received from them during her own troubles.
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Scene Twenty-Two


A/N Credits to Wikipedia and National Council for Civil Liberties ‘Civil Rights for Civil servants.”

One winter night, Jo and George sat down in George’s house, intently poring through the details of the case together. The trial papers were strewn on the carved mahogany dining room table. Alice remained in the background, hunched over the shared computer working on one of her own cases, being one of those silent presences who somehow radiate a calming atmosphere around her. Jo very much appreciated her tactful presence but the case was starting to get to her and she finally threw down her pen in despair.

“The trouble is that I really haven’t got a grip on how the Official Secrets works in practice. I get the nasty feeling that it means whatever the establishment chooses it to mean. If that’s the case, we’re up against a ‘rubber law’ case, something which thank God, Franz Kafka never committed to paper in case the establishment turned it into an internal textbook of repression.”

George shuddered inside even while she smiled faintly at Jo’s words. Faint memories of Haughton made this flash of black humour only too likely.
“So where do we go to from here?”

“Why not Nikki’s boss? In fact, what I don’t understand is why they’re just targeting Helen? Why aren’t they going after the Howard League for Penal Reform?”

“Because it would draw in people with influence that the government doesn’t want to offend. If they restrict their attack to Helen, the League will be absolutely certain that this is a covert attack on them but not enough for them to actually step in…….. I’m just guessing….. I don’t really know,” George finally confessed.

“So let’s find out for sure and ask them.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” George added.

Alice silently glided up to the two women and placed two glasses of sherry on the table.

“Thanks darling,” George said appreciatively, screwing her eyes up at her lover as she appeared on the edge of the circle of light that penned them in. She was dead tired. Jo sensed the silent intimacy between the two women and wished that she had that same sense of the meeting of minds.

“Thanks, Alice,” Jo echoed gratefully.” It’s really good of you. How’s your own work going?”

“To the point where we all need to chill out. I’m tired out and can’t get any further. I suppose you feel the same,” came the quiet response which said it all for them.


**********

“I’m dreadfully sorry to hear what’s happened to Nikki,” Paul exclaimed as George and Jo called in on his somewhat battered, paper strewn office,” Take a seat while I make tea for us all.”

“Please,” Jo said simply.

“I expect you’re wondering why my organization isn’t storming the barricades as we should be doing,” Paul said in his direct way, which endeared him to the two women. He had busied himself in the corner of the main room outside and returned, laying out three mugs of steaming hot liquid. It struck George that this man fitted Nikki’s enthusiastic description exactly. He took his place in his armchair and wasted no words in getting to the point.

“In this organization, Nikki and I are lead the cutting edge, radical wing of the movement. All of us accept that there are times when we don't have to make waves all the time. Some of us are at the top of the organization, which was responsible for Nikki being taken on in the first place. Others saw Nikki as a risk but they were overruled and, thank God, Nikki has more than proved herself. The other side of the organization, well, they feel that if we can be nice to the powers that be and try and talk them round, they won’t be so reactionary. It’s for this reason that we get government ministers addressing our annual general meetings. To some extent, there’s an element of truth in that point of view and I wouldn’t care to ignore it. It has some claim on my own thinking. The real problem is that the government has stopped short of making a move on Nikki as they could have done. If they had, there would have been hell to pay and those bastards know it. Is this all clear enough?”

“Abundantly clear,” George chipped in with a sinking feeling in her stomach.” Neil Haughton used to be my partner and, much though I’ve learnt to mentally erase his vacuous outpourings, enough of it has fortunately stuck so I can work out what they’re doing and why.”

“Our real problem is that we need background on the Official Secrets Act,” explained Jo.” The law looks straightforward but it’s a new area to both George and I and my gut root feeling is that there’s more to this than meets the eye. I need proper research on the subject.”

“I had the feeling from talking to Nikki that you’d turn up here sooner or later. As it happens, this case on my table goes back to 1983 and shows most graphically how the act has been abused. It makes dark reading. I begged and borrowed this material from the archives of the National Council for Civil Liberties, now known as Liberty, something I definitely think you should know about. Of course, the critical factor in this sorry state of affairs seems to be the judge who’ll try the case.”

George and Jo spread out the paperwork on a spare space on Paul Williams’ desk. One preliminary glance grabbed their horrified interest.

Sarah Tisdall was a 23 year old clerical worker working in the Private Office of the Foreign Secretary. She anonymously sent the Guardian photocopied documents detailing when American cruise missile nuclear weapons would be arriving in the United Kingdom. The documents set out the political tactics Michael Hesteltine, then defence minister, would use to present the matter in the House of Commons. He intended that no announcement should be made until Prime Minister’s Question Time had been completed, that he would then rise to announce that the missiles had arrived and, before MPs could put any questions to him, leave the House and that he would then go directly to Greenham Common to be photographed for the press welcoming the missiles to British soil.
There did not appear to be any threat to national security in the revelation but the Government nonetheless brought a legal action against The Guardian, seeking an order requiring the newspaper to reveal its source. Although The Guardian successfully argued that it was protected by section 10 of the Contempt of Court Act 1981 from providing the information, the judgement by Justice Scott was almost immediately overturned. The appeal by the Attorney General was on the grounds that – although the documents themselves were harmless – a civil servant capable of leaking them, might leak other documents which could pose a threat to national security.
The Guardian complied with a court order to hand over the documents, which were identified as coming from an FCO photocopying machine. The machine led to Tisdall who, when confronted with the evidence, pleaded guilty to a charge under the UK Official Secrets Act 1911. She was sentenced to six months in jail but was released after four months.
“In these days,” said the Mr Justice Cantley “it is necessary to make perfectly clearby example that any person who passes in confidence material which is classified as secret….should not be exempted from a custodial sentence.”


“Jesus Christ, what a reactionary,” spat out Jo in disgust.”He sounds as bad as Judge Jackson who sentenced Nikki to life for stabbing that rapist. I was at university at the time when all this was going on. It’s just as well I never knew that someone like him was around or I’d have done something different like…….”
“….plotting the downfall of the state,” teased George.
“Thank you, George,” Jo retorted with a touch of warmth.
“Jo, you know very well that I cannot possibly have laid any claim to being very earnestly dedicating my life to Free Speech in Eritrea or something like that. You should know that I was out every night, partying and secretly on the lookout for the most attractively disreputable man I could find. Of course, I eventually found John and thought, with the false wisdom of the young that I had finally settled down and found my niche in life. How wrong could I be…..but wait, there’s more. Look at this Jo,”

The legality of the Order (compelling the Guardian to surrender the documents, and thus reveal their source) was upheld in a decision of the House of Lords (Secretary of State for Defence v. Guardian Newspapers Ltd. [1985] AC 339) by a majority of three against two.’

“Does anyone know what happened to this poor woman?” Jo exclaimed in horrified tones.
“I don’t know,” Paul confessed.” I would suspect that she’s dropped back into ordinary life and with her career prospects permanently blighted. Hesteltine’s done all right. He turns up, looking suitably avuncular as an ‘Elder Statesman’ on TV programmes,” Paul Williams said, cynically.

“Don’t tell Nikki or Helen about this,” warned George in a deadly serious tone of voice that contrasted with their banter of early on.” It’s for us to worry about. Hopefully, the brethren have changed for the better since those days. How’s Nikki doing at work, Paul?”

“Nikki’s all right…..at least for now,” replied Paul.” She knows very well that the door’s always open and from time to time, she talks to me off her own bat. She’s doing a very good job in trying to keep her own spirits up and bolstering Helen’s. If there’s one thing I know about Nikki, it’s that offering false comfort is worse than useless. She sees through falsehood in a flash however well meant. I’ve tried to be as generally supportive as I can be.”

“That’s Nikki for you,” answered George with soft affection before musing bitterly about this hideous stain on the justice system.” This woman, Sarah Tisdall sounds worryingly like Helen. She has the same idealism and principle. The only thing is that that Helen didn’t actually provide is a major incriminating document that could be traced to her.”

Thank God, John and others came along when he did to save the country from the ‘hang them and flog them’ brigade. After all these years, now I finally get the picture, in full cinemascope,” George thought in affectionate approval of her friend. She’d learnt enough to see where individual injustices should have been fought and now she gained that width and depth of understanding. She felt ashamed that she’d never known of the case at the time, as she should have done.

“Paul, just as a matter of interest, just how well does Nikki know the prison service?” Jo said slowly, in contemplative tones.

“Like the back of her hand,” Paul said in admiring tones.” Quite frankly, I don’t believe that there is any confidential document that Helen ever placed in Nikki’s hands as in Sarah Tisdall’s case. That leaves the government with verbal information. What the government doesn’t understand is that Nikki is an extraordinary intuitive woman who has that rare ability to look at official reports sideways and sense the truth behind them. I'd reckon she's always had that quality about her and has always had a nose for the truth. From talking to her, she knew a number of very sharp-eyed fellow prisoners who she talks off very affectionately. She also has a first class analytical mind. I went through that report of hers with a fine tooth comb and my opinion, for what it’s worth, I think that Nikki tunes into what’s going on from several independent sources, one of whom may well be what Helen’s told her. In other words, there are no ‘official secrets’ that Helen divulged, even working on the broadest interpretation.”

“Thank you, Paul,” George said, much moved. Both Jo’s and George’s retentive minds sponged up Paul’s words. It had the makings of a defence presentation in court.

“Tell me, Paul, have the prosecution asked you the same questions? It seems such an obvious move,” questioned George, imagining from past experience how she might proceed if she were handling the prosecution.

“You must be kidding. I mean I haven’t been asked and if I had been, I wouldn’t cooperate with those creeps,” came Paul’s dry response, following it up with the question that was now really starting to bother him. "Tell me, do you think the government are pretending to be stupid or are actually being stupid?”

“Good question, Paul. I think it’s that they really don’t know people who exist outside their narrow, confined world. I speak as one who used to live in their claustrophobic world. That’s the only explanation I can come up with,” observed George.

“Which means ninety per cent of the population. And they’re governing us. Horrifying, isn’t it.”

“Or farcical. The dividing line between the two isn’t as wide as you might think,” Jo retorted.

There was a thoughtful silence that hung heavily on the air until Jo looked at her watch and realized how long they had detained this very kind-hearted man. They had to let him go on his business and move on.



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Scene Twenty-Three


Neil Haughton breezed into Sir Ian’s room looking pretty pleased with himself. Sir Ian was in the middle of conferring with Lawrence James and Sir Alan Peasemarsh, who was combing his white hair along the back of his scalp but that didn’t matter. The minister operated on the expectation that seemed perfectly reasonable to himself that other people were there to wait for his pearls of wisdom. After all, the legal specialists had their proper role in government affairs but this enterprise needed firm political direction to keep the show on the road, didn’t it, and he was the man to do it. Fortunately, no hint of dissent or reservation had reached his ears that would otherwise have created unnecessary obstacles.

“A glass of wine before we get down to business?” Sir Ian politely offered his inadvertent guests.
“An excellent idea especially as we have something to celebrate,” Neil Haughton pronounced loudly and confidently as he raised his glass to where Sir Ian was hospitably offering round the bottle. Sir Alan Peasemarsh accepted his lot in being second in line while Lawrence James knew when his turn would be. He remained his impassive self, knowing that this was the price to pay in being an ambitious career civil servant.

“The first press release is out, unattributed of course thanks to our friends in the media. You can see that it should have the effect of nicely demoralising our ‘lesbian friends’,” Neil Haughton said with jeering emphasis. He took a copy of the Times and laid the paper out for all to see.

“One time Prison Governor charged under the Official Secrets Act”

“ A report by a well known prison reform pressure group has rubbished the running of one of Her Majesty’s Prisons. While this controversial report has given the prison service something to think about, it has since emerged that the author of the report, lives with Helen Stewart, who was briefly Governing Governor of the prison concerned. From studying the report in detail, sources close to the Home Office have disclosed that only an ‘insider’ could have supplied confidential information so that detailed criticisms could have been made. The Home Office strongly considers that ‘kiss and tell’ allegations like this, albeit made public indirectly through a third party, are considered damaging to the good name of the Prison Service and that an example must be made.”


“It hits the right note admirably. It says enough to cause alarm and panic without revealing too much of our hand. Lawrence and I have spent far too much time sitting at the back of the visiting gallery taking perverse judgments on the chin without being able to do anything about it. I for one feel that we’ve been just a bit too nice with them,” Sir Ian chimed in with a nasty edge in his voice.” This will serve them right.”

“The Cabinet heard the evidence compiled by Lawrence James that the succession of high profile court cases that have been derailed are down to this particular band of witches. They are prepared to move on this case. They’ve had a bit too much luck on their side and it’s now our turn as our Ms Wade has stuck her neck out too far. Her precious partner will just have to take her medicine, that’s all,” gloated Neil Haughton.

“I don’t think our bombshell will go down too well on their home front,” presumed Sir Ian with that lordly disdain, born of one whose background was cloistered and certainly utterly unaware of the fearful struggles that those two tenacious women had gone through to get to where they did.

“I suppose they call women like these ‘partners’ these days,” Neil Haughton said with an ugly sneer.” You can’t say it publicly these days but, personally speaking, the only partnerships I recognise these days are in law firms….anyway, we ought to discuss your perspective, Sir Alan.”

“Well,” the white haired man said, precisely adjusting his tie,” as far as I can see, I cannot see that this Ms Wade can possibly account for the contents of her report on her own. Everything points to Ms Stewart at the back of it. The fact that the house search only turned up trivia is not a problem to me. I’m happy to take this case on for the government. It will be a welcome change to get back onto the factory floor, so to speak, after my time spent in Parliament.”

“What about the opposing barrister, Ms Channing or Mrs Mills? Will they provide any problems?” Sir Ian asked in deliberately level tones as he didn’t want to offend his colleagues sensibilities. The truth was that he had this uneasy feeling that the Attorney General had been out of the ring for too long and that times had changed.

“I’ve heard that their reputations are much overrated. There’s no substitute for experience,” came the cold, aristocratic reply. Silently, Sir Ian decided to silently cut his losses while his voice was occupied elsewhere as he continued.” Let’s hear Lawrence James’s report for ourselves on the damage that they have done which will help focus our minds.”


“Ms Wade not only got released from prison after Huntley had directed that the prisoner serve ten years before being even considered for release and this was your predecessor in the Home Office who gave way to the petition organised by, as we now know, by none other than our Ms Stewart… ,”Lawrence James intoned, reading from his notes..


“The man was always a closet liberal who it was thought would be influenced by his office to be tougher on law and order than he liked……. He got what was coming to him in the cabinet reshuffle for letting the side down,” chimed in Neil Haughton, laughing with cold eyes and a hard tone in his voice as he had taken advantage of the opportunity to dump on his onetime colleague.

“………..but she got her prison sentence expunged on her reappeal…,” interjected Lawrence James before he was cut short again.

“That was down to Deed and his malign influence,” interrupted Neil Haughton through clenched teeth.” I tried to put a bill through Parliament to limit the powers of the judges but after their infernal strike, I wasn’t supported. You did your best to dissuade me, Ian as I recall…….”

“The idea was sound but the concensus of the cabinet was that you went about it in a confrontational manner but let’s not be diverted by fruitless wrangling and carry on with the list. Let Lawrence continue,” Sir Alan Peasemarsh retorted coldly to which response Neil Haughton glared, turned red in the face and said nothing.

“Then some nameless ex policewoman sues the Metropolitan Police for negligence and extorts a hefty sum of compensation. That judgment went round the cabinet like wildfire. My colleagues were livid, I can tell you. I got endless calls from the PM demanding that I live up to my promise and reminding me that only results matter. It took a lot to live that down, I can tell you,” cut in Neil Haughton yet again, stealing Lawrence James’ script.

“……And finally, the fiasco over the hit and run driver. Someone in the police force and CPS seriously blundered in their investigation and let the way open for some rank amateur to turn the whole thing round and make the government look foolish,” Sir Ian concluded. “After this last disaster, we took stock of the position and reached the inescapable conclusion that, on every occasion , the same women were at the back of each case, giving pretty blatant encouragement to each and every troublemaker.We have to nip this threat to smooth government in the bud.”

“So for these reasons these women have to be utterly crushed,” Neil Haughton shouted, pounding his fist on the table.


Lawrence James sat silent with furrowed brow while all this aggression built up and he was being shut out. He had been thinking while all this war talk went on. Behind all these immaculate Saville Row suits and tightly knotted ties, this felt like a primitive war dance and it made him feel uncomfortable. He couldn’t help feeling that these two women were dangerously intelligent. Unusually so, he let his reservations break surface into words.

“You don’t suppose that Ms Wade found out by himself what was going on at this prison in this case?”

Immediately, they all turned cold frosty looks of disapproval on him. He realised that he’s stuck his neck out way too far. If his swarthy complexion could have blushed, it would have done.

“We’re sorry. We should have known better than to raise doubts.”
“Quite,” hissed Sir Ian with an icy glare at him” So are we agreed? We shut up these dangerous women once and for all. We can use this as a springboard to and start to isolate Deed and finally make our move on him.”

The die was cast for double or bust.


************


Meanwhile, far away from the unfolding trial drama, a seething cauldron of jealousy and vengeance was bubbling away. It had been on Saturday July 8th 2001, nearly six months ago that Trisha had booted her out of her cushy job as assistant manager for Chix for siphoning money out of the business to line her pockets on top of her salary. In the busy, free floating world of London clubs, she wasn’t going to find herself queuing up at the local Jobcentre for long, despite the dark stain on her employment record. London was looking out for those who had the ability to sell themselves, which Gill had in abundance besides being pushier than most. She was working in a bar , her power being stripped away from her. She was just an employee with an income to suit. Her slide downwards in her fortunes had embittered her.

It was no coincidence that she had turned up at the court case when Sally Anne had sued the Metropolitan Police for gross negligence and had done her best to derail the case. She had made her spiteful attempt at revenge and it had failed. Now, she happened to look through the Times and spotted this inconspicuous item on page 8. An evil grin spread across her face as she saw her opportunity. Her ice-cold temperament calculated very precisely that all those lesbians clung together and a blow against one of them would destabilize the rest. Their weakness was that they were all stupidly emotional and she knew best how to exploit that weakness just as she had exploited the way that the very important Ms Williams was so soppy about that dark- haired neurotic girlfriend of hers. She really hated the fact that she’d been ‘outed’ and made such a public fool of- now this was time for payback.


“And you’re really telling me that this boss of yours sacked you because she resented the fact that you weren’t attracted to you? I can’t believe it.”

Gill flicked her perfectly shaped sideways blond fringe out of her eye and fixed the man with her baby blue eyes. She had that cold knowledge of just what subtle effect to attain to control this man to think the way she wanted him to think and he’d think that the ideas were all his.

“You have to believe me that things happened that way. You don’t know what places like them are like. It’s a whole different world. If you don’t trust me, I don’t know where else to go.”

“And you really have a copy of a contract of employment with this ‘Chix’ club? I have to be sure as that’s critical to your case. If she breached the terms of your contact in terms of terminating your employment, then we have her cold.”

“I won’t let you down, Paul,” she said, airbrushing her northern accent out of her voice as best as she could to sound sincere and convincing,” I’ll bring it in next time.”

She knew she’d be all right. After all, she could fake up a standard contract and her memory could enable her to forge Trisha’s distinctive swirling signature. With all the emotional stew those bitches were in, they wouldn’t be up to resisting her. They’d settle for a nice lump sum to get her off their back.







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Scene Twenty-Four


In the meantime, Chix was getting more and more popular as the London club culture was in full swing. It took time for Sally Anne and Trisha to realize that the ‘Chix’ clientele had gradually expanded and, in particular, started to include the ‘new kids in town.’ The changes had crept up by degrees until they could deny its presence no longer.

When Trisha was growing up, it was an achievement to find the odd bar to become known as attracting a lesbian clientele. It had made so much of a difference as Trisha had always been known to dress in a conventionally feminine fashion and she had learnt the fine art in pitching that level of directness at some man who had clearly got the wrong ideas. She had no inclination in having her hair cut short and to wear trousers all the time. She could have chosen the very successful compromise style Nikki had favoured which combined something like it with her own very feminine makeup and nature. Believing very much that ‘opposites attract’ she had realized why she had loved that look on Nikki but that she never wanted it for herself. It was something she was pretty obstinate about, a quality that Nikki immediately recognized and understood. Sally Anne, by contrast was roughly as feminine as she was, though she was cheerfully at home with any practical DIY work round the flat. All that effort over the years had finally paid off as their club was a practical manifestation of her long held desire that she should be however she cared to define herself and other lesbians should have that same right. Nothing much else existed outside this world that had been created. The trouble was that, however much the kids had gone through their own struggles, Trisha was beginning to feel that her own struggles- not forgetting Nikki’s- were beginning to be taken for granted.

The drink had always flowed freely at Chix and had made up a fair chunk of their profits. Trisha had long been used to women becoming lovingly demonstrative of their affections and wobbling their way out of the club into waiting taxis whose drivers had earned a good rapport with the club. The thirtysomething women who headed off home were no trouble to them. They much preferred their custom to the aggressive drunks up the West End who demanded their services and, as likely as not, threw up on the back seat and left them to clear up the mess.

“Charles, is everything OK on the door?” Trisha called out on her earphones. She’d recently invested in this earphone system as the music had got louder over the years and this enable her to tune in to any part of the club she chose.

“More or less,” came the careful reply, which only got her more worried. The place was getting more and more crowded, including the VIP lounge.

“Who are those kids?” Sally Anne wondered to Trisha as they saw a skinny, spiky haired kid laughing and wobbling around on the dance floor. Her mate had long, dark curly hair and an intense look about her. Nikki was talking to Helen over the rhythmic sound of the music and her sharp eye spotted them out of the corner of her vision. They reminded Nikki slightly of Denny and Shaz.

“I don’t know for sure. I’ve seen them a few times before but not to speak to.” Trisha had long since developed an encyclopedic memory for the regulars of their club and the occasional visitors but even her memory couldn’t keep track of all of them. Their club wasn’t the only one in town and some of the newer punters drifted from one club to another, something that Trisha vaguely resented.

“Don’t you have the feeling that we’re getting to be taken for granted Trisha? I mean, I’m comparatively new to the lesbian scene but from what I’ve heard from you and Nikki, the whole thing was a cross between a sororial bonding session and a social service. People came here who knew both of you to various extents and it was there for anyone going through emotional troubles.”

“You’ve got it right there, Sally Anne. I ought to be grateful that it’s becoming positively chic but still……what on earth are those two kids doing?”

Some distance away, Trisha could see the makings of an argument starting to develop. It made her vaguely uneasy even though it wasn’t unknown for couples to have their arguments in public. Normally, it was tearful and emotional but this had a darker feel to it.

“Can’t they take their argument elsewhere?” Helen was saying to Nikki.” I can’t be doing with all this.”

“I know, babes,” Nikki answered, tenderly draping both arms round Helen’s shoulder. She knew that they had hardly spent any time at home as the constant feel of those whom she felt at most ease with kept her comfortably cuckooned in a world of pumping music, swirling colours and even casual friends offering her hugs and sympathy.

“You out on the town again, you two? I don’t know how you keep up the pace,” hailed a forceful voice of authority just behind Helen. Nikki had wrapped her up in her arms as her natural protectiveness and alcohol welled out of her. Helen loved the feel of the taller woman against her and the corner of her eye took in Ros wearing her usual almost military looking shirt and sharp cut trousers. .

“Hiya Ros,” Helen answered dreamily.” Guess we could do with a little loving in public.”

“Er, I don’t know if I’m saying the wrong thing but Jenny and I are with you. If ever I see one of their kind driving just that bit over the limit, we’ll nick them. None of this crap like ‘Do you know who I am? I happen to know the Police Commissioner?”

“Ros would say,’ I don’t care if you’re the President of the United States. Better get used to using the tube and bus round London,’” cut in Jenny.

Helen laughed at the two women’s kindly meant effort to distract her. They were good people, she thought in a sentimental haze.

“What the hell’s going on?” shouted Nikki as dormant instincts enabled her to hear a crash of glass as the two kids started arguing at the table next to the dance floor. She figured out that a glass of wine had got smashed. "Jesus, Trisha, just watch it,” she said in a tone of rising horror.

A livid Trisha stormed up to where the altercation was taking place and......in a split second, it happened. The next thing that their horrified eyes saw was Trisha holding her right arm up in horror, blood starting to stream from her forearm. Sally, who had followed her over, was dazed from the shock. To Nikki, she had a flashback of an incident in the riot at Larkhall when she talking the Purvis Gang out of getting the other women all tooled up with kitchen knives. This time around, she was too late to intervene but on the other hand, she wasn’t on her own.

“Leave it to us,” yelled Ros as she and Jenny shot over to where a crowd was standing round in horrified shock.” OK guys, we’re off duty policewomen. Jenny here will give first aid. Meantime you two are out of here.”

As Jenny led the shocked Trisha to the backstage office, Nikki and Helen took themselves over to back up Ros’s menacing voice. Sally got through to the DJ on the earphones and the music stopped dead. It added to that accusing atmosphere which fortunately shut up the two drunken and quarrelsome women.

“If I was on duty, I’d nick you for assault. As things stand, you take yourselves out of here and never come back. I reckon Trisha and Sally Anne would ban the pair of you for life.”

“It was a private argument. Wasn’t her business,” the dark haired woman said sullenly, glaring all around. To Nikki’s eyes, it reminded her of a psychotic version of Denny at her worst. It showed her how Al McKenzie had got thirty months for deliberately glassing another woman in a bar (on top of handling stolen goods). These two kids were bloody lucky, did they but know it.

“Well I’m making it mine. Do I have to get onto my mate and get a squad car down here ? I'll do it if you push your luck.”

Those forcefully expressed words did the trick. The two women sensed the accustomed authority exerted by this tough butch woman and slunk out into the streets. They weren’t to know how soft hearted and kindly she was underneath. Presently Sally Anne came out of the back room where she had followed Trisha.

“How’s Trisha?” Nikki asked anxiously.

“Jenny’s fixed her up for the time being but she has to go to hospital. I really have to go with her but I’ve got a problem…..”

“That’s all right, Sally,” Helen quickly intervened to a murmur of approval.” Nikki and I will stand in.”
“And Jenny and I will stay to the end and watch out for any funny business. Sally, you get off and look after Trisha,” commanded Ros.” That’s an order.”

Gratefully, Sally handed over the keys as a pale and shaken Trisha emerged from the back room, shaking her head. There was a buzzing feeling in her arm and she felt dreadfully weak. It didn’t occur to her to check out her outfit for bloodstains.

“All these years and not one incident…... except for a homophobic raping policeman of course but he doesn’t count.”

Nikki laughed out loud at the sheer incongruity of Trisha’s words followed by Helen’s louder sounds. The other women nearby joined in the laughter at this perfect piece of black comedy. Despite her loss of blood, Trisha actually blushed. It helped to lighten the atmosphere, as a lot of the women there knew what Trisha was getting at.

“It’s all right, I didn’t mean it……,” she started to say when Helen cut her short.

“Darling Trisha,” the smaller woman said in an infinitely affectionate tone of voice.” We all know what you mean. You just get over to the hospital while we take care of things.”

The blond haired woman kissed Helen on her cheek and hugged her briefly with her good arm and Nikki embraced her tenderly and gingerly.

The crowd was aware of the wailing sirens outside and two ambulance men clattered into the club. Jenny took the lead as resident nurse.

“I’ve scrounged a tourniquet and hopefully it’s sorted temporarily. I’m an off duty policewoman as is my partner.”

They took one look at the white faced woman and, after checking the handiwork, whipped her into the ambulance in record time, Sally Anne climbing into the back and held the hand of her partner who lay prone. Trisha couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious as she lay back on a stretcher with a numb arm while the wailing of the sirens announced their rapid progress towards St Mary’s hospital. What drew her attention center stage was the anxious, protective expression on Sally Anne’s face, her long black hair hanging down and the feel of her fingers endlessly caressing her left hand.

“Just lie back, babes, and we’ll look after you,” her lover said soothingly and Trisha lay back, waiting to be nursed. As they sped along, time ceased to have any meaning until finally, they screeched to a halt by the Accident and Emergency pull in space. Trisha was finally eased out and went through the endless processing that is a necessary part of hospital functioning until finally, the two women arrived in the final resting place.

“The nurse is ready to see you,” or so said the announcement.

Sally waited patiently in the bedside chair while Trisha lay in the hospital bed and glanced up at the familiar two-piece blue uniform of the nurse who approached her. Suddenly, Sally took a sharper look, as the nurse who approached was no stranger. The high cheekbones, the full lips, the blue eyes and blond fringe took on an immediate familiarity but not in this context. It was as if she’d driven down an unfamiliar country lane and come across a very familiar country bus. It was……..

“Nurse Betts to attend to you,” said Karen, the twinkle in her eye contrasting with the personally concerned expression on her face. She carried a familiar clipboard detailing the injury to the right forearm.” Can you tell me, Trisha Williams, what caused your injury?”

“She was glassed at Chix by an unruly drunken women……..Karen.”

“Jesus Christ,” exclaimed Karen with more than professional concern.” You can bet your bottom dollar I’ll look after you. I mean it.”

“Nikki and Helen are holding the fort while we’re here.”

The broad smile on the nurse’s face was one of pure humanity. She might have known that her friends would do that for her. It reminded her that, come hell or high water, a certain day would have only one claim on her time, for as long as it took.
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