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Fruits of our Labours; Bad Girls Judge John Deed crossover fic
Topic Started: Sep 20 2009, 05:31 PM (7,177 Views)
richard
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Scene Twenty-Five


The horrible assault on Trisha on Friday night had a solitary positive side-effect as it temporarily focussed Nikki and Helen’s minds on something different than their own troubles. The rest of the last weekend before the trial crawled along at an agonizingly funereal pace and, once again, they were struggling again. Monday at work was almost a relief to be doing something positive. However, it was one of those curious chances of fate that took Helen back to meet Claire in the run up to her trial. Claire wanted to run over the facts of the case to make quite sure for George that there wasn't any tiny but important detail that the opposing barrister could hang round her neck with. In any case, Claire liked Helen’s company.

“The more times I tell the story of my life, the more I’m beginning to feel that I must have disclosed an official secret,” Helen confessed as she ran over her story for what felt like the umpteenth time. Even after Nikki had desperately fended off Helen's compulsive desire for self immolation, the smaller woman was still liable to wobble off course.

“Helen, I’ve known you for a long time now. You’re the most law-abiding human being that I’ve ever known. You would never dream of doing anything that is remotely immoral,” answered Nikki tenderly, laying her hand on her lover's arm, her brown eyes brimming over.

“I’ve recently learnt that what is legal isn’t necessarily moral and what is moral isn’t necessarily legal,” Helen retorted with a cynical laugh. That surface impression betrayed to Claire how deeply worried Helen was and how profound her idealism was.

“We must have faith in the rightness of our position and in those who are backing you,” Claire insisted gently. It was what she truly believed.

“I know I’m in the big time now,” Helen mused in reflective tones. "At one time, I lived my life without any thought outside my career, whoever I was with and wanting to do some good in the world. Somehow, I’ve got involved in big political battles. These are dangerous times, I never knew how dangerous. I never ever thought that I was some kind of Joan of Arc figure.”

“As far as I remember, Joan of Arc was an ordinary peasant girl who had religious visions and did pretty well for herself as a military leader before being betrayed to her death,” Claire said in sober tones to try and settle Helen.” If we all stick together, we’re in with a chance.”


A desultory conversation followed until Helen broke off the conversation to go to the downstairs toilet and, as she turned the corner, she had one glance and that was enough. She instantly took in the look of the woman, same over-casual looking blond bob, same mask like look on her face. Only her eyes gave her away as Helen picked up that flash of annoyance. Gill promptly hurried forward and headed straight for Jim Patterson’s room. Helen scented danger and a slow burning anger grew inside her.

“Claire, what the hell is that woman doing seeing your best buddy, Jim Patterson?”Helen demanded, her eyes glowing with anger.” You heard me talk about that conniving schemer who worked for Trisha and fleeced her out of a lot of money before getting sacked. She can’t be buying a house, surely."

Claire’s mouth hung open. A nervous, worrying Helen had gone out of her office door and an angry fighter had come back in. While Claire was infinitely glad that Helen had regained her nerve, her lips set tight, scenting trouble. She trusted Helen’s instinct and knew that hard questions needed to be asked.

*******

Claire got her chance sooner than she thought. A sudden practice meeting was announced for the next day. Claire met this interruption in her work with equanimity, as her preparatory work for Helen’s trial was as ready as it ever would be. Right at the end as the exchange of cases was discussed, Claire took Jim Patterson aside as she deduced that the man was holding back on this one case. The others in the practice had filtered out of the room so it was just the two of them.

“By the way, Jim. A little bird told me that there’s one fresh case that you’re dealing with?”

“I thought you might ask,” Jim said, grinning all over his face. ”It’s a nice juicy unfair dismissal case and it’s all mine. This poor woman worked at some dyke club and the club owner came onto her and sacked her, as she didn’t want to know. She’s just brought in the contract of employment and it’s a watertight case. There is a clear breach of the contract. I know you like poaching high profile cases, Claire Walker but this is one you can’t have.”

“I don’t think I’d take it on even if I were offered it,” Claire replied in sober, controlled tones, letting the man’s gloating manner wash over her. Inwardly, she was raging at this woman’s duplicity.” The club concerned is called ‘Chix’, isn’t it?”

“So what if it is?” Jim Patterson demanded aggressively, pushing his face into Claire’s personal space. This smart, upstart bitch knew too much for his liking.

“Jim, My client and best friend is Helen Stewart. She goes to Chix regularly and knows the owners well. Apparently, this woman wormed her way into the confidence of the club owners and fleeced the club accounts. When she became suspicious, she showed Helen the accounts who went through them with a fine toothcomb. Helen found out that she’d been robbing the company blind over a period of months. There was a systematic trail of double billing and forged cheques. That explained why she was sacked. Trisha Williams has a partner called Sally Anne Howe whose relationship is as rock solid as Helen’s is with Nikki. If I were you, I’d have that employment contract forensically tested. If she’s forged Trisha’s signature once, she could do it again. If you take on the case, Trisha is bound to counter sue. The case could hit the headlines- for all the wrong reasons.”

Jim Patterson’s face was a picture. His face turned many colours as he reflected on how he had been conned. It didn’t make him feel any fonder of women as a species but his powerful instinct for self preservation was ready to overlook the most hardened prejudice.

“I’ll drop it, then. Might as well tip off some of the other firms around. They might not been so lucky as us who have a hotline to the truth.”

“You decided right…….look, here, Jim, I know and you know that there has been a long standing ego war between the two of us. You have suspicions that I’m using this firm as a springboard to set up on my own, right?”

“The thought had crossed my mind plus the fact that solo stars aren’t liked round here,” the man said through ground teeth. At last all his antagonisms were all coming out in one splurge.

“Don’t you think that if I wanted to leave, I would have done before now?” Claire asked sharply.

For the first time in her life, Jim Patterson looked Claire directly in the eye. The threatening atmosphere that had been generated out of nowhere started to dissipate as the man started to look beyond his own ego.

“You do what you do, Claire. Just don’t gloat about it, that’s all. Just as well we’re not taking the case on.Anyway, I’ve got work to do,” muttered Jim Patterson in a strained tone of voice before stalking out, red-faced.

This throwaway exchange was Claire’s first intimation that she had reached a tentative accommodation with this egotistical man and the suspicion that, deep down, her youthful intelligence had made the man insecure. Sighing patiently, she went on her way. She had a lot to do.

**********

On Wednesday morning, a letter plopped its way through the letter box of Gill’s front door as she woke up from the previous night working in a nameless bar alongside a motley collection of barstaff. It was the place which foreign students worked at while they were passing through. The wages were poor and Gill had long since used up the last of the funds she’d siphoned off from that lesbian club. She had expensive tastes and knew that her credit card debts were steadily mounting. This was how she had conceived her plan to milk the club for more money. All the hard work that Trisha had put into getting the club off the ground with Nikki and then Sally Anne meant nothing to her. What it meant to have an identity that went against the grain of society or, indeed, any nobler disinterested motives, meant nothing to her. All that mattered was herself and whatever she could grab out of life to get her what she wanted.

She opened the letter and stared it with unseeing eyes. Finally, she swore loudly and threw it to the floor. She suspected straightaway that bloody Trisha’s best mate had spiked her guns. She raved with impotent rage. She knew that bloody Helen Stewart was going to get tried under the Official Secrets Act but was impotent to have any influence. She was tempted to go to the court hearing but decided against it, as she knew very well that all the other lesbians would be bound to be there and they would know too much about her.

She was on her own as much as she had always been throughout her life. It was the life she had chosen for herself. Meanwhile, the draft letter that was to have been sent to Trisha Williams was deleted from the computer and the slim file suitably disposed of.


********

The tension swirling around Helen and Nikki on Wednesday night was palpable however much they tried to say the right thing as they settled down on their cozy sofa. The winter’s gales howled round their flat and rain beat steadily against their window. It seemed a suitably Gothic setting that matched their emotions. For all their efforts and strong will to be positive, both women knew too much not to realize a guilty verdict would potentially land Helen with a jail sentence. For all the kindliness of the judge that would try the case, they knew enough to realize how circumscribed judges could be. This evening was no more special in the settled life of the two women or rather what would be settled if the court case weren’t hanging over them. Their comments fell on the dead air and the lowering gloom swallowed them up. All their hopes, fears and mental concentration were focused on the next day, Thursday January 24h 2002 and nothing existed beyond it.


“We’ll do our best, the same way we’ve always handled problems,” Nikki said with forced positivism.

“The problem is that this time it might not be enough. Still, I’ve been in the witness stand before and I managed to put up enough of a fight against Brian Cantwell.”

“Hey, that’s more like it. It will be all right on the night.”

“It has to be,” was Helen’s bleak rejoinder. Both women were acutely aware that fighting for your own freedom was different from fighting for someone else’s. It was the story of their lives.

“We’ve been living together for over a year now, babes. So much has happened in so short a time.”

“I wouldn’t miss anything for the world,” Helen answered, trying to be nice.

Just then, there was a sharp rap on the door and a flicker of annoyance showed up on Helen’s face. They both wanted to be shut in to face their hopes and fears alone.

As soon as Helen answered the door, a wave of good cheer washed in through the space. Her blinking eyes took in those whom were nearest and dearest to them all. Her dazed senses couldn’t take in what she was seeing.

“You surely don’t think we’d let you face your night before the trial on your own?” Karen said with a broad grin on her face. She stood in front of the other women who flanked her on either side and her hair was still tucked up in her regulation nurse’s style.
“It was all Karen’s idea. She organized us all and swore us to secrecy,” Alice explained
“We’ve shut up the club tonight. It would be unlikely that anyone would or should be celebrating,” Trisha chipped in, the sleeve of her winter coat fitting tightly over the bandage over her arm.
“Which means that we are all yours if you want us,” Sally added.
“I’ll be there in spirit but I’m on call tomorrow,” Beth contributed, her fingers entwined in Karen’s.
“I’ve come over tonight while George is plugging away on last minute preparations, and I’ve got cover tomorrow,” Alice finally concluded.

Helen’s lips curved into a warm smile of gratitude as she realized how much she and Nikki both needed them. She wasn’t afraid to admit it, nor was Nikki whose sharp ears had caught the drift and who let herself be embraced by Karen’s warm generous nature. No woman was an island, Helen thought, as she hugged Alice and she should not even try to be. It went against her nature and Nikki’s.

As a result of this comfort, Helen turned up at court on the dot while Nikki took her place in a waiting room to sweat it out till she took the stand. Her nerves were tightly controlled as she took her place in the dock and prepared herself for whatever was to happen. The familiar rustling sensation told her that battle was about to commence.
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richard
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Scene Twenty-Six


An overwhelming sensation of unreality fogged Helen's senses as she found herself standing in the dock of the court that she knew so well. She had sat in the visitor’s gallery a number of times before and had even given evidence as a witness but this time she felt different. She was different and she couldn't get her head round it. She was a law-abiding citizen and she felt strongly that she shouldn't be here. She looked upwards at the gallery and, so far away but still present she saw her dearest friends, Trisha, Sally Anne, Alice and Karen. She knew Nikki would not be there, being debarred as she was due to give evidence but when felt her powerful invisible presence around her, she started to break through her mental fog. Right at the back sat the glowering presence of Sir Ian and Lawrence James and her gaze passed on to George and Jo Mills and she willed herself to take heart from them. Only at that second did events finally slide into focus.

“Miss Stewart, you have been charged under Section 1(3) of the Official Secrets Act 1989 that on a number of occasions you, as a ‘person who is or has been a crown servant are guilty of , without lawful authority, making damaging disclosures of information relating to the running of Larkhall Prison which has been in your possession by virtue of your former positions of authority in the said prison.’ How do you plead?” the court usher asked her in formal tones.

“Not guilty,” Helen pronounced loudly, a sense of outrage surging through her. She fought down her anger as she saw the hated presence of Mrs Warner, with whom she’d crossed swords when she had worked at Larkhall. The woman was clearly incapable of changing while Helen had most certainly changed since those far off days. For the first time, she took in the presence of the prosecuting barrister, Sir Alan Peasemarsh, Attorney General no less.He glanced severely at her as he adjusted his Saville Row suit, her archetypal male authority figure of all times who was detailed to bring her down. The bastards were wheeling in the big guns, she thought, till she took to heart Nikki’s favourite saying that the big guns weren’t necessarily that big, it was all bluff and show. She hoped and prayed that that was so. Only John Deed, dressed in his dark suit and sitting solemnly in the wings really was a big gun who wasn’t boastful yet he wasn’t kidding anyone.

*****

“Mrs Warner, can you state your occupation and position in the Prison Service?” Sir Alan started after delivering his ponderous and wordy opening submission.

“I am employed by the Home Office and I work as an administrator within the London Area Office with direct responsibility for Larkhall Prison amongst others. I have also headed up investigation teams into any prison breakouts or internal disciplinary issues. It takes me around prisons on a regular basis which keeps my ‘feet on the ground.’”

“Do you have a procedure in place for prison officers to sign a copy of the relevant pages of the Official Secrets Act when they join the Prison Service?”

“This invariably takes place on induction into the Prison Service and on ceasing to be employed for whatever reason.”

“I refer you to exhibit HS1 and HS2. Can you state what they are and who they relate to?”

“This document dated November 3rd 1996 identifies Helen Stewart when she joined the Prison Service as a new Prison Officer 1. I have obtained a copy of the personnel records showing the same Helen Stewart……”

“For the benefit of the court, this is exhibited at item PS1 in the bundle of evidence……” Monty interjected quickly.

“…….It shows that she undertook a fast track graduate training scheme when she became Wing Governor (Grade 5) at G Wing Larkhall , then Lifers’ Liaison Officer (Grade 4), and then finally acting Governing Governor (Grade 1). This document dated Thursday Nov 23rd 2000 when Ms Stewart resigned from the Prison Service clearly sets out an agreement by the defendant that she understood perfectly well the implications of the Official Secrets Act, that she is bound by it just as much as any serving civil servant.”

“I refer the court to certain excerpts of the report in question marked as LP1, LP2, LP3 and LP4 as follows.”


“Far too many prison officers are inducted into this culture when they are young and impressionable. Where the one part of the prison service could have enlightened and assisted the other, both sides end up confirming mutually shared prejudices.

The lynchpin of this system is the Principal Officer who is a vital source of information and guidance - in both directions - between prison management and ordinary prison officers. Regrettably, this potential has been flagrantly abused in controlling and manipulating information for personal advantage, as I shall later demonstrate in more detail.

There is a willful reluctance by the medical unit attached to the prison in abandoning the previous system of deploying freely available NHS medical records. It is difficult to understand why it ignores the obvious truth that prisoners have past lives in society

Even now, it pervades the management ethos- examples being the educational facilities which are not encouraged beyond the minimum, the disbandment of the ‘lifer’s unit’ of which this writer has direct knowledge of.”


"Can I have your observations on these excerpts, Mrs Warner?”

The woman looked down her nose in a superior manner, which enraged Helen as she stood in the dock. If I get my freedom and come across this woman in the street, she’ll get a piece of my mind.

“The first exhibit could be explained away as some ex prisoner with a grudge against the system and doesn’t need any special expertise. The second exhibit is quite different. I cannot see from my wide experience of the prison system how this can be substantiated except from an officer of immediately senior rank than a principal officer. This is the wing governor. Since this purports to be a study of G Wing, then the only substantive wing governors that can be considered as the source of information is either Karen Betts or Helen Stewart. The third item is mere opinion but the fourth item about the Lifer’s Unit can only relate to Helen Stewart as it was her own brainchild.”

“So in your professional opinion, the evidence is damning and conclusive that the defendant definitely disclosed official secrets.”

“That is most definitely the case.”

“The other matter I want to question you is the amount of what damage this ‘report’ does to the prison system. Could you explain what sort of damage this does to the public reputation of the prison service?”

“Most definitely. This report has come at the worst possible time when the Home Office is most insistent that the Government is tough on the causes of crime. For this, the Government is most insistent that the Prison Service enjoys a level of credibility with the general public. This report attacks this credibility and spreads false and malicious impressions of how prisons work. This report has been acutely embarrassing to the Government and who knows how many people verging on the edge of a criminal lifestyle have been tipped over the edge in the wrong direction.”

Jo Mills had sat alongside George feeling buoyed up by her presence, having made a prior agreement with George for her to intervene as she saw fit. Jo smiled at Mrs Warner, knowing very well that this would unsettle the woman. She wasted no time is launching into the attack.

“Mrs Warner, I would draw your attention to item LP5 in the bundle of evidence and it reads as follows. The management style is heavily focused on currently fashionable commercial ideas of profit, even after one attempt to privatize the prison most fortunately fell through. This was no coincidence. Publicity for a charitable presentation of a wheelchair for the disabled son of a prisoner was hijacked by Lynfords Security to boost their profile for the takeover only to be hijacked in turn by the spirited resistance of a group of prisoners whose only demand was that Lynfords should drop their bid.’

Might I have your observations on this part of the report?”

“Yes, well, this is a thoroughly scurrilous attempt to blacken the Home Office in referring to a particularly scandalous event at G wing, deliberately engineered by the worst criminal elements among the prisoners . I can assure you, Area Office took a long time in living it down…..” answered Mrs Warner in her usual bombastic fashion. Much to Helen’s growing pleasure, she could see how her old enemy was starting to become definitely flustered.

“Not so fast, Mrs Warner. Let me get one thing clear. Is this is a true account of what happened, yes or no?” Jo shot back with perfect precision.

“It might be the case,” Mrs Warner admitted sulkily.

“Furthermore, this event took place well after the defendant had resigned from the Prison Service. In other words, is it not the inevitable conclousion that Miss Stewart had no ‘inside knowledge’ of this event whatsoever? She was no better placed than any private citizen to know of this event. It is for you to account for how this incident came to light. Surely it must be obvious that this came to light by means other than from Miss Stewart, is it not?”

“I can’t possible comment,” Mrs Warner answered in her favourite ‘Yes Minister’ fashion. Immediately, Jo jumped for joy as this pompous woman had made a fatal mistake in failing to understand that she was in a court of law. To Helen’s grim satisfaction, she was forcibly reminded of this.

“Mrs Warner, you have been given a direct question to which the answer is either ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ This is not some TV discussion programme when some slippery politician will be allowed to flannel his way out of the situation. To fail to answer a direct question could place you in contempt of court. I am sure your seniors would not want this consequence plus any consequent adverse press publicity,” Monty grated out, his blood up as he instantly took a dislike to this woman. In the wings, John did his inadequate best to be unostentatious but smiled inwardly at the way Monty stamped his sense of justice on the court.

“Yes, it is possible.”

“Mrs Warner, what experience have you had in working in a prison?”

“I well, I went through many different facets of the policy making side of the prison service which gave me a holistic view of operations without being limited to the nuts and bolts side of the job and having a ‘worms eye’ view. I have been on a variety of professional courses, which has built up on my professional knowledge, and, of course, my work in investigations has entirely validated my training. My position also involves me being on hand to talk to the Governing Governor about any problems that might arise and I have access to all the end of year reports of all the prison officers at Larkhall Prison,” Mrs Warner said with an effort at trying to sound knowledgeable.

“Considering your ‘professional qualifications,’ how could you best describe Miss Stewart’s style of management?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Let’s make this easier for you. Is she someone who delegates, leaves all the ‘nuts and bolts’ work to her subordinates, the Principal Officer for instance, and concentrates on the paperwork or is she highly visible on the wing, to both prisoners and prison officers alike?” insisted Jo Mills with relentless precision, piling on the pressure.

“Er, I’m not altogether positive, one way or another. All I know was that Mr. Stubberfield described her as ‘cold and aloof with colleagues and averse to constructive criticism,’ stammered Mrs Warner, her face ashen.

Jo Mills smile threatened to split her face. This woman had dropped herself right into the trap that Jo had manoeuvred her into. Deliberately slowly, she leafed her way through her bundle of evidence till she arrived at what she knew would be there. Mrs Warner’s heart sank, as she knew very well what was to follow.


“You are referring to item HS7 which is Mr. Stubberfield’s annual report on Helen Stewart dated June 15th 1999 where he says and I quote ‘a bright girl, dedicated to her career, determined to be innovative, a visible presence on the wing- full complement of staff or no.” In other words, I put it to you that is it not possible that any intelligent prisoner could see for herself the relationship between a principal officer and such a visible wing governor and also that the existence of access to NHS records could have become known by such a prisoner? When such a prisoner is released and takes up a job with the Howard League of Penal Reform and makes an in depth investigation of the wing, then she is uniquely well placed to find out everything she wants to know. Of course, isn’t she far better placed than some mere functionary in a remote office that knows about ‘policy matter’ “ - and here Jo Mills spat out the words contemptuously – “but nothing about what really goes on. Is that not so, Mrs Warner?”

The veneer of confidence and hardness had been utterly stripped away by now. Mrs Warner felt as if she’d been fed into a mincer. She wished she were back in her comfortable office. She had never been led to believe by her superiors that she'd be asked such searching questions. She had been airily assured that her job was to explain prison service procedures for the benefit of the uninitiated and they would accept what she said.

“You must answer the question, Mrs Warner,” insisted Monty Everard.

“I suppose it is possible,” she sulkily replied. She wanted out of here and fast.

“Thank you, Mrs Warner,”Jo said with a real sense of satisfaction. “No more questions.”

“Do you wish to reexamine your witness, Mr. Attorney?” Monty enquired, knowing very well what the answer would be. In his shoes, he would cut and run. Sir Alan Peasemarsh shook his head, his heart in his boots seeing his case start to come apart at the seams.

“I think we have time for the next witness before lunch,” Monty pronounced as the court fell silent. Helen turned round, seeking visual reassurance from Jo and George and receiving cautious smiles in return. Not a bad start, they were both saying to her.








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richard
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Scene Twenty-Seven



Helen looked from her place in the dock at the smart suited man who made his way to the witness stand. He was just as she had remembered from the one manager’s conference both of them had attended, a consummate politician. His body language betrayed a certain shamelessness and a willingness to take the stage. He did not even bother glancing at her, so self-absorbed her was in his own performance. In this, the man’s consciousness of himself differed so radically from hers, Helen thought enraged and fearing what was to follow.


Sir Alan Peasemarsh started the questioning in a leisurely fashion, confident that there stood before him, an authoritative witness as to the state of play in prisons. After all, he was not only a believer in ‘top down’ knowledge and authority but its exemplar.

“Mr. Grayling, can you explain your present and past roles in the prison service for the benefit of the jury?”
“I have been Governing Governor at Larkhall Prison since December 2000. I believe I took over from the defendant who was only an acting governing governor for a short while until she resigned from the prison service. Before then I was governing governor of Newby Prison for four years. Before then I’d rapidly climbed the promotion ladder since I joined the prison service straight from school. I’ve also been an instructor for a few years at the main training institute for new prison officers. In short, I’ve seen the prison service from all levels of operation.”

“Are prisoners allowed to know the internal deliberations of prison officers?”

“Definitely not. It is dinned into all prison officers from day one. I know this from my own experience and as an instructor.”

“Can you tell me how does the ‘personal officer’ system work?”

“Each personal officer is put in place to deal with any issues raised by the prisoner, to counsel the prisoner on what she needs to do to improve her chances of early release and to change her offending behaviour. He is there, above all, to raise any concerns to his superior officer. The focus is always on the prisoner and not on the prison officer, who is strictly ordered to conduct himself in a proper, professional manner.”

“Can you explain how does the medical wing operates and how effectively the present Senior Medical Officer, Dr Nicholson has operated?”

“The medical centre is fully staffed to deal with all immediate physical and mental ailments. If mental illnesses are of a pronounced kind, there is a dedicated, specialized wing to handle any long-term problems. There is scope to temporarily transfer inmates to the local hospital at St Mary’s. I recruited Dr Nicholson myself after his predecessor left to return to civilian practice. I can say that Dr Nicholson is a hard working, conscientious man who is dedicated to the prison service.”

“Finally, can you say just how familiar you are with Larkhall Prison and before it, Newby Prison? How would you describe your particular style as a governing governor?”

“I can say with great confidence that I am very familiar with what makes a modern prison tick. I am very ‘hands on’ in my approach and I am not afraid of introducing far reaching radical ideas and seeing them through to their conclusion.”



Jo Mills had studied the witness intently all the while and when she started her questioning, threw her first question from an unexpected angle.

“Mr. Grayling, have you ever met Helen Stewart before?”

“Yes, once at a manager’s meeting,” he said with hardly a blink.

“Can you describe the interview Nikki Wade conducted with you on Wednesday August 24th 2001? What did she say to you and what did you say to her? Remember that you are under oath.”

Neil Grayling swallowed hard and remembered how that formidable woman probed and prodded, and attached a false smile to his face

“I found her a most persistent woman, intent on her feminist agenda with a perspective of the prison system that was understandably somewhat jaundiced by her own experience of incarceration,” he started to say when Jo Mills cut him short.

“Excuse me, Mr. Grayling but, aside from your obvious attempt to diminish the author of the report in question, you’re not answering the question,” interjected George like lightning. She had mentally, ‘played herself’ into the rhythm of the proceedings and felt confident.

“I apologize, your honour. I was wondering how to frame a reply, not wishing to breach the terms of the Official Secrets Act myself," Grayling replied, smiling falsely."As far as I remember, I had arranged that one of my most experienced wing governor to show her around on a scheduled itinerary. She declined the offer and indicated that she would target G Wing for no clear reason. When we talked, she asked me a series of very intrusive questions. I remember her asking me about the successful privatization project of the canteen, hardly something I would have thought she should be concerned with. I got the feeling that she was looking for something she could discredit my prison with.”

“Did you know that, on the recommendation of Helen Stewart and Karen Betts, Dr Nicholson had been sacked for gross inefficiency before you saw fit to reemploy him. I have records- see exhibit number PJ1 showing that a Pamela Jolley’s mental state had been horribly misdiagnosed for years and a psychiatrist, Thomas Waugh, had confirmed her condition could easily have been treated with counselling and anti-psychotic drugs. More to the point, were you aware of Dr Nicholson’s previous employment and why it finished?” lashed back George, her blood up, just beating Jo to the punch.

“He met all the criteria in the interviewing process,” Grayling replied smoothly.” Of course, I’m going on memory.”
“Would it be true to say that you have absolutely no experience of Larkhall Prison at the time when Ms Wade was incarcerated?” Jo asked more calmly, smiling approval at George.
“I can’t deny the facts,” Grayling said, spreading his hands wide in a brilliant appearance of frankness.
“So it is possible that Larkhall Prison operated differently before you became governing governor than from during your tenure?”
“It is possible.”
“Can I have your comments on Principal Officer James Fenner’s personality in connection with his recent imprisonment for taking the life of one Gerald Baker in a hit and run accident?”

“What can I say? It was obviously a tragedy for the man’s nearest and dearest. The news came as a complete bolt out of the blue since the case had been entrusted to the police force to investigate and, to all intents and purposes, it had seemed that Karen Betts, the former wing governor on G Wing was the perpetrator. I naturally drew what turned out to be the incorrect conclusions. May I say that I am glad that diligent action has got to the bottom of the tangled web of events?”

“So, speaking as someone who claims to know Larkhall so intimately, did you have the slightest foreknowledge that a principal officer working for you had such a dark and devious nature? Such personality traits must have manifested themselves in such a closed in world like a women’s prison,” George pressed, drawing a slight smile from Helen at the way George was speaking with such authority and utter conviction.

“Well, well, that’s a difficult question. Everyone has their secrets, the side of their personalities they don’t bring to work. All I knew of him was that he was an experienced and capable officer. I knew that he was divorced from his wife, Marilyn and had two children,” Grayling said in evasive tones for the first time since he’d taken the stand. The mask was starting to slip.

“So, would it be true to say that where it comes to anything vital to the running of the wing, you really don’t know your officers or what’s going on? I haven’t even begun to talk about the prisoners yet,” Jo shot at the man, her voice heavy with the kind of sarcasm, which made George smile approvingly.

“I..er..I err.. these events are simply atypical. I know by my long years of experience that I know what’s going on in my prison. You have my word for that.”

“For what your word is worth,” cut back George in tones of pure acid with that one two-piston stroke. ”No further questions.”


As Monty adjourned the hearing for lunch, he was starting to view the proceeding with utter incredulity and exchanged glances with John. He had expected Sir Alan to cut a better figure than this. He ought to have been amazed at how Jo and George were running rings round him, being sharper and more perceptive than he was but inwardly, he wasn’t. Most of all, he had had the sneaking suspicion that there would be secrets pulled out of the woodwork despite the flimsy case but where were they?

******

Helen couldn’t wait to get out of the courtroom to see Nikki in the visitor’s room and they hungrily embraced each other. Nikki knew that she was debarred from questioning Helen about the progress of the trial to date but she sensed in her partner’s manner that, at the very least, they had a sporting chance.

“We’ll go to the pub as usual with the rest of the gang, right?” Nikki asked and Helen nodded in reply, too overcome to speak. Sally-Anne, Trisha and Karen had clattered down the staircase and linked arms with them. As they passed through the foyer, they happened to see Grayling try to pass rapidly through the crowds but not quick enough to miss a stony glare from Helen. Soon, they burst into the fresh biting wind, crossed the road and into the pub. Karen insisted in getting in the drinks, soft drinks for Nikki and Helen who wanted to stay sharp-focussed.

“Mind if I join you, ladies?” came a familiar cultured voice from behind them. It was John Deed of course.
“You’re welcome, John but isn’t it against the rules for you to fraternize with witnesses at a trial?” Nikki murmured. She was delighted to see him but she wanted to clear this matter up first.
“Let’s put it this way, if you don’t tell the apparatchiks of the LCD, then I won’t,” murmured John, his innocent blue eyes twinkling.
Both she and Helen laughed out loud at this man’s ready wit. They felt they had both been through this movie before. The other women had seen this man before but not in such an informal setting. They immediately tuned into this guy and knew at once that he was for real.
“In that case, may I buy you a drink?” Karen asked, grinning broadly at this man’s attractive cheek.
“Most certainly, Karen. A whisky and soda if I might.”
John immediately held forth with a series of witty anecdotes from his life, including his advocacy as a barrister in arguing that his client wasn’t in possession of a dangerous dog, which promptly bit him on his finger in court. The women’s spirits were immediately lifted and the time passed very agreeably. Trisha sat back and marvelled at what this nice guy was unobtrusively doing. He was doing a really fine job in steadying her friend’s nerves ready for when they were due to go on the stand and, more to the point, not giving a toss about who might be overhearing them. She could understand so clearly now why Nikki admired the guy so much.







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Scene Twenty Eight



Nikki surprised herself with her own confidence as she finally came to take the bible in her hand and declaim the oath that was now becoming familiar to her. An almost unnatural calmness pervaded her system as she readied herself for the cross-examination and she wondered why this shouuld come to be. She stole a sideways glance at the appealing look on her lover's face as she stood in the dock and silently vowed to do her bit to defend her from coming to any harm. The particular form of her natural combativeness felt curiously right for her, cool and deadly to the opposition rather than hot blooded and emotional. Then she realised why her mood was right after stewing in the waiting room. It was all John's doing at the lunchtime break. At that moment she silently blessed the judge who was more of an older brother to her than her own wretched brother had ever been. She caught Jo's eye and was now ready and waiting.

“What is your name and occupation?”
‘Nicola Wade, researcher for the Howard League of Penal Reform and formerly life prisoner at Larkhall Prison for three years,” said Nikki smoothly.
“Ms Wade, it is to your period in Larkhall Prison I wish firstly to direct my questions. Do you understand this?”
“Perfectly.”
“Can you explain for the benefit of the jury just how long were you incarcerated there?”
“Just over three years. I entered Larkhall Prison in May 1997 and was released on appeal on Friday Nov 24th 2000.”
“What is your present occupation, Nikki?”
“I work as a researcher for the Howard League for Penal Reform, having had my record wiped clean on reappeal,” Nikki said crisply, anticipating Jo’s next question.
“For a start, were there any differences in the way Larkhall Prison was officially supposed to operate in comparison with the way it actually operated, Ms Wade?” Jo asked with a smile at Nikki’s neat move.
“There were very considerable differences. For a start, as I understand it from my presently acquired knowledge, a prison officer was not supposed to surrender his or her keys on any occasion whatsoever to any unauthorised personnel and, if caught, this could result in severe disciplinary action. In reality, I know that on the event of Mrs Hollamby’s thirtieth anniversary wedding celebration, the prison officer on watch let an agency nurse look after his keys so that he could get access to the bar.”
“I object, your honour,” lazily called the Sir Alan Peasemarsh.”This is hearsay evidence. Ms Wade could not have possibly been in possession of such information that would only be privy to the nurse and prison officer concerned. I ask that it be stricken from the record.”
“On the contrary, I was the prisoner concerned and I suggested this arrangement to Nurse Ford, an agency nurse. She used the prison officer’s keys to allow me to escape from the prison for one night so that I could get to see Miss Stewart to explain away a stupid misunderstanding and repair the damage to our relationship. I walked through prison security as the prison officer on the gate added me on to the list of those nurses who had supposedly entered the prison at 12.30 that morning to make the record look right. How otherwise did I get through prison security? I tell you I was there.”

The court gasped as Nikki reeled out her first hand evidence with such authoritative clarity that the jury instantly believed her. Sir Alan went red in the face as this smart woman slashed a great rent in the fabric of the case that he was trying to build up. Jo Mills deliberately allowed a few moments for Nikki’s startlingly vivid evidence sink in and also to allow for her total admiration of the woman to cool down so that she could proceed.

“Just how easy was it for a prisoner like yourself to gain information as to how the prison actually operates in the way you have illustrated?”
“When a prisoner is first admitted to prison, she is very disorientated having been taken out of her normal environment. I speak both from personal experience and from recently talking to prisoners as part of my job. After a while, any prisoner will get to know the ropes and, in particular, find out how the prison operates. If the prisoner is lucky, she will get to know other prisoners on the wing who will ‘clue them in’ to what’s going on. There is a high degree of female sisterhood in prison. You might hear stories of violence between prisoners and women who will scratch each other’s eyes out given half a chance. I don’t deny, both from personal experience and from my own studies that it happens on occasion. On the other hand, women will tend to help each other out to a far greater extent than you might think and not for any obvious sexual reason either…….”

“My lord, I would like to know just where this line of questioning is proceeding,” Sir Alan said with a deliberately exaggerated appearance of boredom.
“I think the witness will make everything abundantly clear given time,” George replied in an amused tone of voice.
“Carry on, Ms Wade but try to stick to the point,” Monty warned. He smiled inwardly as it occurred to him that it was normally for the barrister to be so advised. Ordinary witnesses just answered questions put to them but he knew very well that Nikki was definitely out of the ordinary and she could safely be allowed a certain amount of free rein.

“I understand. I was lucky in being friends with prisoners like Yvonne Atkins, Barbara Mills, Julie Johnson and Julie Saunders amongst others. The first was the very sharp wife of a gangland boss, the second a civil servant and the other two were kind -hearted prostitutes. all of them who hear and see everything. I was also on good terms with prison officers like Dominic Mc Allister, Gina Rossi besides, of course, Helen Stewart. The normal kind of ‘old girl’s network’, or the ‘old boy’s network’ for that matter, is normally limited to the nine to five Monday to Friday work routine. In a prison, we don’t go out to home at the weekend- there isn’t one. Because prison life involves a considerable amount of boredom and dead time, there’s all the time in the world to find out from a number of sources what’s going on. On top of that, each prisoner has a personal officer and sometimes they say more than they should do to a prisoner and that is fed round the prison gravevine. Finally, I must emphasize that Yvonne Atkins has the most unbelievably retentive mind imaginable and she has an absolutely rock solid sense of what is truth and what is lies. I am proud to say that I was a very good friend of hers……..The point I’m getting at is that official rulebooks of prisoner’s supposedly lowly status count for nothing if you’re in that kind of circle of friendship as I’ve described. The truth gets out bloody quickly, one way or another. I know I’ve gone on a lot but I hope I have explained the situation clearly, My Lord,” Nikki finished, her voice trailing off, as she wanted to ensure that she had got her message over.

“Everything you say is crystal clear to me, both counsels and the jury, Ms Wade,” Monty Everard said with great satisfaction. He admired the way this woman paced the content and delivery of her evidence just right.

“So on the specific charges in the indictment against Ms Stewart, what were your sources of information for your report?” Jo Mills asked while George sat back in fascinated interest.

“I have worked as a researcher for the Howard League for Penal Reform since June 18th 2001 and it includes work out in the field and, in particular, I visited Larkhall Prison on August 24th 2001 and investigated a sample wing, G Wing. To put it in a nutshell, I crosschecked over three years of my own experience against my academic studies of the penal system in general, kept my ears and eyes wide open when I visited the place and pulled all these lines of thinking together. I also questioned Neil Grayling and Dr Nicholson at length and got to hear what I wanted to know, more than they expected to divulge to me. To sum up, I had a fair idea where the bodies were buried, so to speak. As I knew what there is to look for, I was better placed than most to know how to find it if I do say that myself.”

“Nikki, did anyone see your report and suggest any alterations and if so, what alterations did they suggest?”

“My partner Helen gave me a lot of emotional support while I was writing the report as she knew more than anything else, that it touched on emotional raw edges,” Nikki said, selecting her words with care. ”This has been my first major project with the Howard League so I was feeling nervous. She helped me to have the confidence to set down on paper what I already really knew. Finally, my boss Paul Williams also checked over the report to ensure there was nothing in it that I hadn’t backed up with evidence and fitted in with his own broad and extensive knowledge of the prison system.”

“Finally, can you give for the benefit of the jury your general impressions of Larkhall Prison, both from when you were an inmate and on your inspection in your official capacity,” Jo asked in smooth terms. George grinned at the neat way Jo emphasized Nikki’s present status.

“My Lord, that cannot possibly help as it is clearly detailed in the bundle of evidence, item NW1-50. To go down that line of questioning would merely duplicate what is on record,” Sir Alan angrily contested. Everything around him was sliding into a sea of anarchy and disorder. Immediately, George jumped up to counter this ploy as Nikki’s investigation cut to the heart of the case.

“ I submit that the report was designed for an academic audience and wouldn’t include how Ms Wade was treated by both prisoners and prison officers alike. The court needs to hear first hand evidence for themselves ,” George cut back with a twinkle in her eye at Nikki. George knew very well how Nikki would behave, and trusted that her sense of judgment would know just how best to pitch her reply.

“The question is a legitimate one but try and be concise, Ms Wade.”

“I’ll keep it short and sharp. When I visited Larkhall Prison, I got the truth from the prisoners and nearly all the prison officers tried to sweep it under the carpet. Helen Stewart had battled for years to try and make prisons a just and civilizing place and had made some headway. Those restraining forces for good had been removed and only the law of the jungle remained, leaving a mixture of inefficiency, prejudice and injustice to run riot. Is that concise enough for everyone?”

Jo sat down quietly sedately as Nikki’s ringing tones reverberated through the court. The dark haired woman became highly aware of this opposing barrister. His manner was conceited and priggish. She knew that she was in for a gruelling time of it but resolved to give as good as she got. Be armed with the truth, she murmured to herself and it will set you free. The first blast of the assault came rapidly.



“Let’s get things right, Ms Wade, would it be true to say that you are currently living with the defendant?” Sir Alan Peasemarsh demanded in as a peremptory tone as he might have acted in the corridors of power.
“That’s right, your honour.”
“And when did this relationship commence, Ms Wade?”
“You mean when I fell in love with Helen or when Helen fell in love with me? Prison is hardly the ideal place to consummate a relationship,” Nikki said calmly.
“When both of you knew of your feelings for each other, Ms Wade,” came the stony reply. It was clear that Sir Alan had not thought of these peculiar logistics of courtships.

Nikki reflected awhile as she tried to place just when such an amorphous date took place, particularly as days at Larkhall flowed on with nothing to mark them, calendars made little sense and even the humble clock was nowhere to be seen.
“My answer is rather approximate. I’m trying to place it by working backwards in time. Let’s see. I was released from prison on Friday Nov 24th 2000. Helen first kissed me on the day she resigned as wing governor so let’s say that makes it August to September 1999. She didn’t return to Larkhall on her Home Office project till some time in February 2000 and even then, she wasn’t there all the time.”
“Aaaah,” Sir Alan said triumphantly,” So there was plenty of time for pillow talk to develop, certainly in view of the fifteen months that you were in a lesbian relationship with the accused.”
“Pillow talk? In a woman’s prison? You’ve got to be kidding,” Nikki replied incredulously to generalized laughter round the court. She deliberately waited for that moment to sink in before charging ahead on her own line of explanation.

“Look, let’s get to the point. The substance of our relationship was a deep emotional intimacy. Helen had the foresight to see behind my ‘hard case’ exterior, that I gave Helen the love and support that she wasn’t getting from elsewhere, certainly not from those under her who were sabotaging everything she was trying to achieve and certainly not from her fiancée. I saw in Helen the sheer courage and sincerity that I deeply respect.”
“So what form did your ‘intimate exchanges’ take?” came the next question with heavy sarcasm.
“I remember clearly when Helen first took me into her confidence. She came to see me when a fellow prisoner Monica Lindsay was depressed over the sudden death of her Down’s syndrome grown up son and refused to pursue her appeal. Helen had tried every official approach under the sun, including the personal officer, and laid out the problem to me as she knew that I was on good terms with Monica…….”
As Nikki tailed off, she couldn’t resist being cheeky and adding “I suppose you could say that was an official secret that she divulged to me. I can only say in my defence that my intervention did do the trick…..”

The jury laughed openly at Nikki’s jibe. In turn, she reflected on the fact that John Deed was definitely becoming a bad influence on her as she spotted his impish grin. Helen was totally dumbstruck watching how astutely her partner stood up so out and proud and she loved Nikki with all her heart all over again.

“So you insist that all you heard from the defendant was to enable the pair of you to ‘do good works’ around Larkhall Prison?” Sir Alan shot back with heavy sarcasm.
“Precisely so,” came the calm answer.” I mean, why not?”

“I put it to you that you couldn’t possibly have made such detailed observations of internal management at one of Her Majesty’s Prisons without some inside assistance,” shot back Sir Alan nastily.

“You admit that what I’m saying is true?” Nikki retorted calmly, causing Sir Alan to turn red in the face and run his hand feverishly through his hair. He had stepped straight into the trap which Nikki had sprung snap on him. George and Jo grinned openly and helped make Sir Alan look as if he were ready to explode inside with frustration. He was so far away from maintaining his languid Old Etonian aristocratic manner .”I thought I listed very clearly the inside information earlier on but perhaps if I could explain it again. If the policeman had troubled himself to ask me all this when he was busy putting Helen through the third degree, I would have quite happily told him.”

“Ms Wade, the whole tenor of your argument is that you simply did not need your partner to let you know what was going on in Larkhall. That’s hardly flattering to her, that somehow you didn’t need her,” Sir Alan fired at her, this being the last shot in his locker.

“Mr. Peasemarsh,”Nikki cut back with strained patience which caused a ripple of amusement round the court and a visible grin on John’s lips,” I owe Helen Stewart my life as she worked her arse off, pardon my language, in petitioning the Home Office for my appeal to be heard. Even now, after all this time, whenever I wake up beside her in the morning, I remember everything she ever did for me.. I know now that Helen tried to battle with the unhealthy power imbalance of herself as prison governor and me as prisoner. This report was essentially all my own work. There were no ‘official secrets’ that were divulged. That is the truth.”

“Have you any questions to ask your witness, Mrs Mills?” Monty drawled the customary words, trying to keep a straight face.

“No more questions, my Lord,” Jo said immediately.

She and George had been watching with total fascination at the way Nikki’s testimony was shredding the prosecution case to pieces. The tide was running in their favour but knew that everything now hung on how Helen would now shape up.
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Scene Twenty-Nine



Nikki sat, open-mouthed at her woman down there, this being her first view of the trial from the spectator's gallery and she ached to defend her. Karen knew how Nikki felt and held her hand to comfort her. Alice, Sally Anne and Trisha all felt very emotional for both Nikki and Helen. Meanwhile, out in the witness stand, Helen nervously clasped the Bible in her hand. When the moment of truth finally came, her mouth was dry but her nerves were finally under control. Her icy sense of control had just about come out on top, similar to when Mrs Warner and her sidekick had grilled her over the prisoners escape all those years ago, or so it seemed. She fought down her lurking fear that her photocopying Nikki’s prison file would come to light in open trial, as she had to trust to the lap of the gods. She’d been especially combative the last time she’d crossed swords with the opposing barrister but this time, she felt more vulnerable. She felt that she needed all the strength she could gather up.Fortunately, she had taken heart from Nikki's splendidly combative testimony which had left her awestruck at her lover's audacity as she had steamrollered her way through the opposition..

“Miss Stewart, can you briefly provide the court with dates as to when you became wing governor at Larkhall Prison and the date when you resigned from the Prison Service?” Jo asked in calm soothing tones.

“I became wing governor in November or December 1998 I think and I definitely remember resigning from the prison Service on Thursday Nov 23rd 2000.”

“What is your present occupation?”

“I’m the local office manager of G E International, a firm which specializes in computer products, as you see a far cry from the Prison service.”

“Can you describe what your time in the prison service meant to you?”

“I did my damnedness, with some success, to get prison officers to treat prisoners with respect, to enable prisoners to improve their lot through education, prime example being the ‘lifer’s unit’ which I introduced. I sought to stamp out favouritism and rule bending, like selecting drugs free prisoners for drugs tests to fiddle the figures. I had to fight all the while against cynical ‘jailor type’ mentality at all levels in the prison service. Most of the prisoners and some prison officers came to see the value of what I was doing. As I look back, I’m proud of my efforts and that I was honest,” Helen said in loud ringing tones.

Karen blinked back a few tears at the strength of conviction in Helen’s tones. She had been one of those who had been so influenced.

"For the benefit of the court, can you tell the court what access you had to official information, both paper and computer records?"

"I used a computer in my office and had access to all the prisoners files, budgets, Home Office memorandums, internal policy papers and so forth if I'm not being indiscreet," Helen said with a faint smile curving her lips. She felt through her skin that everyone in the court responded to her little quip with notable exceptions.

"Did you ever take work home with you in the course of your duties and in what form?"

"The Prison Service didn't then go in for laptops so I only took files home with me to work on to return in the morning.

"It might seem a trivial point,"Jo asked with a fresh smile on her face,"but can you explain why the following evidence LL1-LL3 in the bundle of evidence- was found in your flat by DI Sullivan and his colleagues? I am asking this question because, if I don't, my learned council may well do so. For the benefit of the jury, it comprises your old Larkhall phone book, address book and some standard Prison Service literature."

"It was my practice to work at home from time to time. I cannot be certain but I may have planned to work at home later that day. I had duplicates at work so I wasn't inconveniencing myself. My resignation from Larkhall happened very suddenly so these were left behind in the rush of events. I surrendered everything else over just before I left Larkhall for the last time,"Helen said in precise, definite tones. Sir Alan Peasemarsh concealed his irritation at the way these few trifling papers were so easily explained away and resolved not to come back on this point.

“Coming onto more recent matters, can you explain why you resigned from the prison service after finally becoming acting Governing Governor?” Jo asked gently, knowing that it was necessary to intrude into this delicate area first to best safeguard Helen's position. Helen licked her lips nervously as she feared to provide ammunition with which her integrity could be attacked. Finally, she concluded that Jo Mills was cleverly getting her to tell her version of the story without being pressured under hostile cross –examination. She finally found the words that rightly framed her feelings and memories.

“The matter is a little delicate. I’m sure the court will have heard evidence of the history of my present relationship with Nikki Wade and that it started when she was once a prisoner in my care. May I say, straight off, that our love for each other was the greatest source of emotional nurturing and yet caused unbelievable tensions as it conflicted with my sense of duty and Nikki’s own sense of self esteem, that the situation made it hard for her to be equal which she deserves. When we hit a bad patch, Nikki felt compelled to escape for the night to talk to me to clear up misunderstandings to get us back on track. After we slept together, I smuggled her back inside Larkhall Prison. When I found out months later that Jim Fenner had been running a prisoner’s brothels and taking a slice of her earnings, he found evidence of my night with Nikki which could have compromised both her appeal and did compromise my tenure of my job. In short, Jim Fenner blackmailed me into resigning from my career.”

“I’m sure the court will appreciate your frankness,” Jo said slowly marvelling at Helen’s moral courage and casting a sidelong glance at Sir Alan Peasemarsh."What interest and involvement and involvement, if any, have you had with the prison service since then?”

“I felt I had gone to the wire in trying to make the prison service a more human place. I left the Prison Service right at the time when Nikki got out on appeal. When we started living together and making a new life for ourselves, we tried to distance ourselves from the prison service for a long, long while. Nikki got a basic office job and only after her second successful appeal did she think of bettering herself and hence got her present job when she changed her mind about turning her back on the past.”

“Did you know about the report that Nikki Wade prepared and if so, did you have any involvement in its writing.”

“I knew about the work Nikki was doing but my input was strictly confined to giving emotional support for her first piece of authorship. I knew how much it meant to her.”

“Why didn’t you become more actively involved, Helen?”

“I’ve been away from the prison service for over a year and have had no involvement as I’ve described. A year is a long time. I felt that my knowledge is so easily likely to be out of date and might hinder rather than help. Nikki Wade gained a pretty extensive knowledge of the prison service from the inside and has added considerably to it in her work for the Howard league of Penal Reform since May of last year.”

“Can you detail any information, however irrelevant it might seem, where you might have given Nikki Wade confidential information that might be construed of as an official secret?”

“I told Nikki that I’d got nowhere in persuading Monica Lindsay a prisoner to continue with her appeal after the death of her son and Nikki persuaded her to change her mind. When all the prison officers on G wing went down with a simultaneous stress bug, I persuaded the Governing Governor to let the prisoners run the wing themselves on condition for good behaviour and explained this to Nikki in asking her to help keep the lid on the situation. It worked with considerable success, might I say. I asked Nikki to help Pam Jolley, a woman from a psychiatric wing to adjust to taking her place on G wing. What is important was that Nikki wasn't mine to command. I could only ask her to do something if I explained the reasoning, the background to the situation.I think that is all.”

At that point, Helen swallowed, knowing that she was guilty of a sin of omission. Her throat was dry and she prayed that the opposing barrister couldn't see into her soul. Background religious sensibilities were roused from their unquiet grave and made her feel highly uncomfortable and vulnerable. However, for the first time in her life, she crushed that thought aside as what would self immolation achieve and leaving Nikki stranded on her own?

******

A silence descended on the court as George started to worry at just how her dear friend would stand up to Sir Alan Peasemarsh’s interrogation, especially in exacting revenge for being so airily rebuffed by Nikki. John kept a straight face but he fervently prayed for that diminutive figure to have all the strength there was and he wasn’t even formally religious.

“Miss Stewart, was your affair with Ms Wade, while a prisoner in your charge and, by your own omission, smuggling her back into prison after sleeping with her, professional or unprofessional?” Sir Alan said spitefully.

“It was my one unprofessional lapse in an otherwise exemplary record that saw me get promotion from basic Prison Officer, fast track promotion to Governor Grade 5 all the way up to acting Governing Governor 1,” lashed back Helen.

That retort made Sir Alan Peasemarsh edge back and blink. He hadn’t expected such a lightning counter strike. His next question was lower key.

“Ms Stewart, how long have you and Ms Wade lived together?”

“Since Nikki first got her freedom on Friday Nov 24th 2000. We have never been apart since,” pronounced Helen with ringing pride, which warmed Nikki’s system, through and through.

“While it might be accepted that prison constraints could have placed limitations on passing information, don't you think that the scope for information exchange is so much greater in the period you have lived together. Isan't it possible that you might have exchanged confidences when you started living together as any normal working married couple might?”

“I disagree. Why do you think that two women should want to talk about the prison service rather than engage with our present and future?” Helen replied politely as she deftly countered the deceptively reasonable question.

“Don’t you think that your partner would have wanted your assistance, if only to confirm her suspicions?”

“I wanted her to feel that this was her own work. I gather that the report was vetted by her boss, Paul Williams for whom she has the utmost personal and professional respect?” Helen replied in equally reasonable tones. Nikki smiled warmly and nodded eagerly in appreciation of her partner’s kindness. This confirmation wasn't lost on the court.

Sir Alan took the bundle of evidence and adjusted his glasses as he studied it. “I quote the relevant parts in the report, items LP1, LP2, LP3 and LP4 in the bundle of evidence.’ There is a willful reluctance by the medical unit attached to the prison in abandoning the previous system of deploying freely available NHS medical records. It is difficult to understand why it ignores the obvious truth that prisoners have past lives in society.’ “Might I ask you, how could Ms Wade know about the previous record system and also that it had been abandoned if not from you?”

“By Nikki talking to other prisoners over three years and confronting Dr Nicholson. That’s what the report said.”

“I quote another part of the report where it says. ‘Even now, it pervades the management ethos- examples being the educational facilities which are not encouraged beyond the minimum, the disbandment of the ‘lifer’s unit’ of which this writer has direct knowledge of.’ Might I ask you, what direct evidence could Ms Wade have direct evidence of except through yourself?”

“That’s easy. She was part of the original lifer’s group being once classified as a lifer. I am only guessing but mightn’t Nikki have found out about its abandonment by simply asking Mr. Grayling on her investigation?”

John Deed sat in fascinated interest and admiration of Helen’s steely self control.By contrast, Sir Alan Peasemarsh’s never extensive patience was starting to wear thin and in an unpleasant tone of voice, threw in his ultimate weapon, the expert administrative witnesses.

“Mrs Warner and Mr. Grayling, two very senior and experienced members of the Prison Service have given evidence that the report contains information that, and I quote ‘no ex prison officer, however intelligent, could have obtained without inside information’. I put it to you, Ms Stewart that the only logical conclusion is that you must have passed on top secret information, if only to lend authenticity to a report, to perfect it and to make it absolutely damning.”

“Mr. Peasemarsh, isn't it curious that you have not called upon evidence given by those who might have closest contact to me in my official duties. One is Simon Stubberfield Governing Governor over me before who in October 2000, was sacked by the prison Service following the escape of no less than three prisoners during a TV documentary team filming at Larkhall Prison. This was a project upon which I had expressed the strongest possible reservations. Another is Karen Betts who is in the gallery right now. In August 1999, she succeeded me as wing governor access until being forced out of her job and the third is Jim Fenner Principal Officer. He was there throughout my service at Larkhall Prison right up until last October when he was arrested and subsequently sentenced to life imprisonment for a deliberate hit and run car accident. Can you tell me why these witnesses weren't brought forward?”

“My Lord, I must protest,” spluttered Sir Alan, red in the face with anger at the relentless way this dangerous woman brazenly broke all the etiquette of court and cut back on his line of attack and that Monty Everard tamely let her continue.” The defendant is not allowed to cross-examine the prosecuting barrister. This was never the way when I used to be a practicing barrister. I demand that this be stricken from the record.”

“Mr Attorney, you are undoubtedly correct in your last point and I direct that the questions and related answers be stricken from the record,” Monty replied in as dry and formal tones that he could summon up before his mask slipped a little with a slight mischievous smile. "However, it does not prevent me from asking you these very same questions. Sir Alan, why did you not call upon Simon Stubberfield, Karen Betts and Jim Fenner to give evidence?”

“I, er, I did not think that any more witnesses would be necessary to make the case,” Sir Alan said, red with embarrassment.

“Since you cannot enlighten me, I shall ask Miss Stewart the very same questions as she has the demeanour of knowing the answers to her own questions. Miss Stewart, can you enlighten the court on the questions I have asked? You must remember, you can only detail first hand direct experience and facts which are in the public domain but not give opinions on events at second hand. You are clear on what I’m saying?”

Helen gathered her breath and let loose a slow deliberate, clearly articulated recitation of the facts in one slow unfolding wave and her eyes and voice was incandescent with heartfelt emotion and ice cold logic.

“Perfectly, my Lord,” she answered with her best winning smile while all the women in the gallery and John were in a fever pitch of excitement at what Helen might unleash. “Jim Fenner, Principal Officer, my immediate subordinate was an unpleasant misogynist in his behaviour towards me. I investigated allegations that he sexually and physically abused prisoners in his care, and obtained his suspension from duty pending investigations. Worst of all, he once sexually assaulted me. He had a hot line to Simon Stubberfield, Governing Governor, my immediate boss to go behind my back and make complaints against me. Mr. Stubberfield’s real role was to take personal credit when things ran right, and delegate blame onto me when things went wrong. If there was anything conceivably to my discredit, I heard about it immediately from him so therefore anything like a breach of the official secrets act would have long since been laid at my door........."

Helen paused briefly to gather her breath as she exhaled all the burning sense of injustice from over the years and, in so doing, amplified the very damning point. A glass of water was passed to her by a kindly usher who saw how overwrought she was. As she drank the water with deep gulps, her hand trembled with emotion and she drew a deep breath before speeding onwards through her testimony.

" Mr. Stubberfield was eventually sacked after an internal enquiry by prison service investigators following the escape of no less than three prisoners during a TV documentary team filming at Larkhall Prison. Karen Betts was a loyal hard working prison officer who rightly became wing governor when I vacated the post and who Jim Fenner manipulated due to her weakness for smooth talking men to turn her against me when I returned to Larkhall . This she told me in recent years when we became friends again. After I left, she saw through him and was repaid by being framed by Jim Fenner for a deliberate hit and run murder of an innocent pedestrian to avoid Karen exposing him for his abuse of a vulnerable prisoner in his charge. I gave evidence in support of Karen Betts in this very courtroom who was finally acquitted of the charge and Jim Fenner being sent down in her place at a later date. In short, Karen Betts was not called on to give evidence against me as she is an honest woman who would never have given evidence against me because she knows me too well. If I had breached the Official Secrets Act when I was at Larkhall, both Simon Stubberfield and Jim Fenner would have grassed me up in short order, to put it bluntly. Most importantly of all, they are so hopelessly compromised that no half way capable barrister who knew the truth would touch them with a bargepole. I hope I have made everything clear, My Lord and have substantiated everything I've claimed.”

Helen’s hands were shaking as she grasped the rail of the witness stand as she exhaled the last of her pent up frustrations of those years. She had never known that they still existed in the depths of her unconscious until that moment. At last, she poured all the evidence out in the open that had long been denied to her. She felt weak and trembling all over but also glowing with the dawning realisation that she had triumphantly buried the last ghosts of her past. She sank down on her seat after Monty smiled down on her to do so as Jo indicated that re-examination could not possibly improve on perfection.

Those in the courtroom who had the slightest human emotions were simply overwhelmed by Helen's full flood of emotions. Sir Alan Peasemarsh was enraged that he had been trampled into the ground by this diminutive but powerful woman while Sir Ian and Lawrence James’s fastidious natures were offended by the unseemly exhibitionism. Underneath it all, they could taste a bitter taste in their mouths, one of impending defeat.
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richard
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Scene Thirty



It took a long time for Helen’s passionate words to finally fade away on the air, and Jo deliberately let the full impact sink in. George whispered words in Jo’s ear, who grinned in assent. Jo stood up with all the confidence in the world as the ground had so brilliantly been prepared for her while Sir Alan Peasemarsh gloomily knew beyond doubt that the game was up.

“My Lord, might you hear a legal argument in the absence of the jury?”

“I think I know what’s coming,” Monty answered with the faintest grin on his face.”Clear the court. I think I can assure you, the jury, that you won’t be away from here for very long.”

It seemed forever for the jury to shuffle out to the jury room and when the room was quiet, Monty gestured to Jo to speak.


“My Lord, I submit that there is no case to answer. Ms Wade and Ms Stewart between them have given comprehensive and irrefutable evidence as to how Nikki acquired the knowledge in her report and more to the point, have demolished the case against Ms Stewart. The prosecution has offered no first hand evidence to refute it. The prosecution has clearly failed to comprehend just how much an intelligent prisoner can learn about the prison system and can deploy her knowledge in conjunction with her present occupation and their case has totally collapsed.”

Sir Alan Peasemarsh shook his head briefly on seeing Monty's gaze fix on him. He had been made enough of a fool as it was and his only hope was that not too much details of this court case would get back to the corridors of power. Feelings of joy swelled up inside Monty Everard that he had both the power and the right to kick this case into the dustbin of history where it belonged. He caught John’s eyes, which were visibly expressing his own powerful emotions, and, come to think of it, he felt the same. After all, hadn’t these women supported them in their own hour of need? He was feeling at the top of his form with no reservations whatsoever. Sir Alan Peasemarsh sat back, red faced and impotent. I bet a bottle of brandy this is the last time he appears in a court of law, he thought with some amusement.

“I accept the submission in its entirety. The prosecution case has totally collapsed in the light of the evidence given. Could the jury be called back in.”

George's warm-hearted smile at Jo's short and sharp execution of the prosecution case warmed the taller woman who was still standing and feeling a tremor of emotion running through her. Both women had been sorely tempted to make such a move at the end of Nikki's hard-hitting testimony but had gambled that Helen would achieve the knockout blow despite the risks of the pressure they could feel that their friend was under. There was another interminable wait for the key to freedom to be finally turned in its lock, and Monty turned his friendly gaze to the twelve men and women of the jury when they had taken their places.

“I have heard the argument put before me that there is no case to answer, that the prosecution case has collapsed. I accept this argument I am therefore directing you, the jury to acquit the defendant of all charges. Members of the jury, there is no need for you to retire. Can the foreman please stand?”

Monty allowed the courtesy of the briefest of whispered deliberations amongst the jury. A smart suited man promptly stood up with no hesitation.

“Gentleman and ladies of the jury, do you find Miss Stewart guilty or not guilty of the charges concerned?”

“Not guilty, my lord.”

Monty took a deep breath, glared defiantly at Sir Ian and Lawrence James, exchanged glances with John and promptly let rip with his own emotions.

“Miss Stewart, you are free to go and may I say I sincerely hope that you will recover from this quite unnecessary ordeal. If I might make a few observations, I have been bemused at the way the case has unfolded. On the face of it, this case appeared to me to be flimsy from the very start and I’ve been waiting for the substance to appear but there has been absolutely nothing. It has turned out to be all smoke and mirrors. I have always been a firm believer in supporting the police in the difficult work they undertake but in this case, I part company with my upbringing. The only way that they can possibly escape rightful public censure would be if they were the unwilling accomplices of the directing minds behind this whole sorry and shambolic episode.”

He was conscious of the sensation of dropping a huge stone into a deep pool of water or a large stone through a neighbour’s greenhouse as he had done when he was a mischievous little boy and while that suppressed side of him enjoyed it with gleeful enjoyment, the adult side of him exulted in righting an injustice. The look of incredible gratitude in Helen’s eyes, the flash of approval on John’s face and the beams of approval from all the women in the gallery told him that he had judged his words just right.

As a hush fell on the court, John’s unveiled his traditionally buttoned down feelings while the trial was progressing and they overflowed in all directions. He felt overwhelmed with relief for Monty at the way the trial had turned out and giddy with exaltation as he felt was elevated amongst a heavenly constellation of stars, each with her own illuminating light shining on him. These consisted of the utterly charming women in the gallery with whom he had shared a delightful lunchtime drink with. Amongst them were the now very familiar Helen and Nikki. He did not overlook George, the woman he’d once been married to who was now a close friend and had been so unselfish in her support of Jo. Somehow, in the middle of all these benevolent spirits, there stood Jo Mills whose razor edged concentration could now relax after so brilliantly holding the case together. He focussed in on Jo and he felt the first fluttering of his heart now seeking to come to life. Jo’s intense blue eyes and relaxed smile engaged with his own. As Nikki started to file out of the front bench, she caught the brief exchange of glances between Jo and John and smiled, being glad for him. He didn’t know that the time was right, but she knew that to be so. She felt that there was a sense of slow movement waiting in the wings for him as she started to walk up the steps to the rear door to the visitor’s gallery.”

“Hiya, Nikki. You didn’t think that I was going to cop out while you and Helen go through the flames of hell, even with your friends to back you. I dragged myself away just in time to see you put that pompous idiot through the shredder- and of course, Helen’s virtuoso performance,” called out a well known friendly male voice from in front of her.

“Hey Paul,” Nikki called out delightedly, her eyes sparkling.”It’s great to see you.” While she chattered away with the introductions, all the women warmed to the guy while John sensed a kindred spirit.


By contrast, Sir Ian and Lawrence James were aghast at how unceremoniously, the prosecution case was booted out. They knew that they had some explaining to do, especially as Sir Alan Peasemarsh was unlikely to take such a defeat graciously.

The jubilant crowd clattered downstairs, Nikki at the head. Her eyes frantically searched for the first sight of her beloved now she was released from the jaws of justice and finally caught sight of her as she was walking an uncertain line out of the back entrance of the court, her legs feeling like jelly. A brilliant smile swept across her face and, as they met at the bottom of the staircase, they passionately wrapped arms round each other now that they knew that nothing would part them.
“You were fantastic out there in the dock, Darling. I’ve never seen you so brave, so defiant. We’re free….and all thanks to you,” Nikki said passionately into Helen’s ear. She was so overcome with emotion that thy were oblivious of everything outside each other, despite the criss-crossing throng of solicitors, ushers and smart suited witnesses. All their friends clustered round protectively in a circle round them.

“Do you know who was the prosecuting council that you just blew out of the water, Helen?” John’s voice asked from behind them, his voice unusually trembling with free flowing emotions of all kinds.
“I think it was Sir Alan Peasemarsh. I know I kept getting his name wrong,” Helen said vaguely, her face half hidden and muffled by Nikki’s comforting arms.
“So did Nikki,” answered John, grinning broadly. “You couldn’t have found a better way of winding him up. After all, he’s only the Attorney General, fresh from some Cabinet meeting.”
“And he’s supposed to be the expert on law? Jesus Christ,” exclaimed Nikki in loud disgust.” I’ve absolutely no time for stuffed shirts……..”
“……or stuffed blouses, like Mrs Warner,” added Helen in carrying tones.


“I suppose you’re very glad at what you’ve done Jo,”intruded a nasty voice, filled to the brim with spiteful but impotent, well-bred anger. It was Sir Alan Peasemarsh, of course. A silently angry Mrs Warner accompanied him. The last straw to the worst day of his life was these two women unashamedly displaying their sexual inclinations within the hallowed walls of the Old Bailey. Both had heard free-thinking opinions that their positions of power normally kept at bay.”I suppose you’ll have your two minutes of fame with your strange assortment of fans. Not my type or John’s either but still, there’s no accounting for taste.”

There was a split second’s indecision as to who would retaliate in kind to this superciliously vicious attack on them all. This was like a red rag to a bull for John and he immediately charged in with full force. The others automatically deferred to him as the leader of their gang.

“Doubtless you’ve overheard what we really think of you both. I was going to discreetly retire from the press party but, since you put it that way Alan, it would be churlish of me not to take my place in the back row with George and Jo. Might as well be hanged for a sheep as well as a lamb,”John retorted with sheer breathtaking nerve that made even Nikki think that he was pushing his luck.

“That may well happen sooner than you think. You’ve made a lot of enemies. I don’t know what’s been going on but I just know that you’re at the bottom of this fiasco.”

“To persecute an innocent woman? When no one, either the detective or the CPS thought fit to talk to Nikki Wade? I think not. You’re going to end up with egg on your face when you face the PM and you know it. Just get out of our way,” John concluded with icy contempt.

“I’m not staying a minute longer in this unseemly scene,” came the feeble reply and he stalked off in the direction of a side exit.

“Jesus, when you get into an argument, John you don’t mess around,” gasped Nikki.”I thought that I was the mouthy one around here.”

“To tell you the truth, I’ve had run ins with him in the past and the words came straight off my unconscious,” grinned John.

“Don’t I know about it? You need minders to hold you back, doesn’t he, George?”
“Absolutely,” George chimed in with Jo. “Don’t you think we ought to get ready to face the press? Before you go out, you need to be prepared for trick questions especially about your ‘unprofessional’ relationship with Nikki while you were at Larkhall? Are you ready to face them or do you want a bit more time? ” George asked in gentle tones, laying a hand on Helen’s shoulder.
“George is right,” said John and Jo in unison.

Helen’s thoughts whirled round in her head at a thousand miles a second. That verbal spat had given her a final dose of mental energy and kept at bay that creeping sense of wariness from going out clubbing with Nikki for the past number of nights. She wanted to get up and at them and not hang about.

“I think I can face it. I’ve always been acting as backup, from Monica Lindsay’s appeal onwards,” Helen said in clearer tones, waves of memories sweeping through her system.What energised her most was the way that the ghosts of her past had been exorcised, once and for all.” It’s the first time I’ve spoken up for myself. It's my turn now.”

“You’re the boss, Helen,” Karen chimed in.” We’re all on your side.”

For a second, Helen was mentally back to when she had been G wing governor at Larkhall with the capable Karen Betts as her lieutenant. It was at that moment that she finally got her faculties to focus sharply. She looked round at her dear friends of all description all around her.

“You mean to be part of the gang , John?” Nikki asked in amazement.

“Just anyone try to hold me back,” he said with firm purpose.” I never make a promise that I break. I won’t be interviewed but I’ll be in the back row with Paul to give you moral support and perhaps forestall any homophobic attacks on you.”

John’s perceptive remarks drew nods of approval from all and sundry and his quiet determination finally galvanized Helen to action. She strode ahead purposefully and opened the doors to the outside world. All the others followed their lead. Only John was new to this kind of experience but all the women knew that he was a quick learner. Helen had trod those steps before now.

**********

As expected, the light outside blinded her and the sharp wind cut through their clothes and ruffled their hair. Helen had followed tradition in wearing a formal suit for the court and now she realized that it wasn’t dissimilar from her two-piece wing governor suit. Once again, the battery of cameras, reporters, sound boom and video cameras were there to record everything. She was momentarily dazed to realize that all this paraphernalia was about her. It was then that her sense of duty kicked in, towards herself, her friends, her beliefs and anyone who might be sucked into the fearful, vengeful machinery of law for no reason. She was damned if she’d be grateful and humble. Nikki took her place on one side and Karen on the other. Behind them Alice, Trisha, Paul, John, Jo, George and Sally Anne formed a protective shield.
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GG72
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Bravo :clap wonderful update can't wait for the next one. :notworth
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richard
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Apologies GG72 for not picking up on your post. Thanks for your positivity.
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richard
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Scene Thirty-One



Helen’s eyes took in the pack of journalists and assorted onlookers that were starting to crowd in and asked herself just what was their standards of humanity? She wondered how desperate they were for a scoop, what angle they would approach her and what she might say that would reach them and not compromise her values. To her inward delight, she spotted the shining star of Beth’s presence amongst the pack of reporters. She hoped that her friend would be able to edge her way in and ask her the questions she wanted to answer.

“How do you feel about the result, Miss Stewart?” the first reporter said, lobbing over a straightforward question. Helen jumped in eagerly.

“It goes without saying that I’m delighted that the judge rightly threw the charges out of court and into the dustbin of history where they belong. He directed the jury to find me innocent as it was made patently clear that there was no shred of a case against me. I’m everlastingly grateful for my friends who have stuck by me, the legal team of Jo Mills, George Channing and Claire Walker who worked tirelessly on my behalf and most of all my partner, Nikki Wade my dearest friend and all the wonderful people around me now who have supported and believed in me. Without all this help I wouldn’t be here now.

On the other hand, I’m angry with the investigating authorities who could have cleared up the matter by asking Nikki a few simple questions when I was first interviewed. At best they were extremely stupid and at worst, malicious and for that reason, I’m bloody furious. I won’t forget lightly the stress and the pressure put on us over the last months. If they think that either of us will be meek and mild in any encounters with unjust authority in future, they’ve got another think coming.”

“What is it like living with a lesbian cop killer?” the woman in the cheap suit shouted out. Instantly she regretted her jibe, which her editor had demanded that she ask. Petite as Helen was, she towered psychically over the woman and lashed her with her scorn.

“You don’t get many chances to meet your soulmate but that’s what Nikki represents for me. She’s incredibly honest, compassionate and moral. Living with her was one of the best decisions of my life. Any woman, or for that matter any man, either gay or straight knows what true love means. Next question please.”

“Isn’t there the danger that this damaging report will make the lives of prison officers worse than they are?” asked the older man with more discreet line in reactionary politics.The cluster of women and men automatically tightened protectively around Helen but he didn’t fare any better than the others.

“I’ve had a chance to read Nikki’s report, I mean why can’t I? It paints a picture of a prison system that, as a whole, is seriously dysfunctional and has lost its bearings. If the establishment had been mature about the matter and treated it with due respect, they would have engaged with the problems and tried to do something about them. Instead, they have direct responsibility for landing it on the front page without doing an iota to fix the problems. Any serving prison officer should lay the blame at the door of those responsible and that isn’t me.”

“I understand you confessed in court that you slept with your partner when she was a prisoner. How do you square that with your professed sense of morals?” asked the smarmy, slick suited man.

The bastard, Karen thought angrily to everyone’s silent agreement. Nikki clasped her lover’s hand

“The truth is, I can’t square it. As my one professional lapse, it was not to my personal self-interest, but at the cost of a considerable amount of soul searching. I used it to try and do some good in a disinterested fashion. If that is a sin, who amongst you in the press is without sin?”

If the Reverend Stewart had switched on the television on at this moment, he might have been startled to hear how his sermons had taken strange life in his daughter’s mind. To those protectively clustered around, the Biblical denunciation of the more morally squalid members of the press made some of the audience feel as fantastic as much as some of the press felt uncomfortable. Meanwhile, notebook in hand, Beth looked on delightedly. She had been forced to miss the trial sorely to her regret but this more than made up for it.
.
”Has this court case changed your views on what government secrets are really all about?” called out a familiar voice to Helen. It was Beth of course who had neatly slid her way to the front while Karen repressed a smile at her sharp witted lover. Helen was delighted with the blessed freedom of this open-ended question. Instead of having to fight back against a hostile context, she could map out her own reply while the cameras rolled on, recording everything for prime time television.

“That’s a good question. You know, it seems to me that any organization only functions when it has moral authority- in the case of a prison, when it gains the respect and cooperation of the prisoners to run it. That may sound shocking to the ‘law and order’ brigade but I found that to be true from experience. I’m not naturally hostile to authority, being brought up in a religious background and a strong belief in the meaning of duty. I carried these principles into being a prison service governor to try and give prisoners the best possible chance on the outside, in setting up a ‘lifer’s group’ to educate prisoners that they have choices and needn’t be locked into a cycle of self destructive behaviour. What running a prison is about is moral authority and, for the matter, that goes for society as a whole. These past few weeks has seriously shaken my belief that government works for all the best possible purposes and reasons. Would it be a stretch too far of logic to guess that this isn’t about official secrets but a blatent attempt to silence the organization to which Nikki belongs and that, if they couldn’t get at her, they made a dead set at me? I leave it to the judgment of the audience out there to decide.”

”So you think that this trial was about covering up for the government’s own political embarrassment?” interjected Beth, grabbing the chance with both hands while John’s spirits soared with jubilation. The legal wing of the solidarity movement grinned openly in agreement while Karen started to relax, having had to resist shouting out her own truth.

“Well, who am I to say? Some might say that the problem with grand conspiracies are that they are never minuted but, nevertheless are all too real for all that.”

”So what do you plan to do with the rest of your life, Miss Stewart?” asked a more neutral questioner, anxious to head off this dangerous train of thought and steer towards the more safely personal.

Suddenly, Helen felt tired. She felt that she had been on some kind of public stand for ages. Everything was starting to catch up with her.

“For the immediate present, to go home with my partner, take it easy and get back to our jobs. After that, some kind of celebration and to reassess our futures from what we’ve learnt,” Helen said in a tired voice while all those around her clustered protectively.

******

On the other side of one of a multitude of TV screens, a crowd of women in a smoky, dingy room, dimly lit by the overhear curved windows way overhead followed the news in utter silence until the news cut to some faceless politician banging on about something meaningless. They suddenly let rip their cheers of delight at Helen’s impassioned attack on the prison system, taking in all forms of injustice and her fiercely loyal defence of Nikki. The extra treat of their old mate, Nikki and also Miss Betts was totally mind boggling. They danced around, uttering whoops of delight for a full ten minutes before the full impact of the court case sank in.

“Jesus Christ, that’s really telling them. I never knew she had it in her,” breathed Yvonne to herself, her mouth open as she heard the former very correct prison governor lay into all forms of unjust authority with the incendiary power of a flamethrower. She totally admired the way she took no shit from those press bastards. As usual, she was first off the mark while Bodybag, foolishly tried to maintain order in her heavy-handed way.

“So you thought Miss Stewart was guilty of breaking the official secrets act all this time?” Yvonne jeered, pushing into the flummoxed face of Bodybag, red faced with embarrassment, piling on the pressure by her pitying and especially aggravating tut tutting. "That judge threw it out of court. You never get it right do you Miss?”
“Yeah, you was telling us all the time how Miss Stewart was as guilty as sin, weren’t you,” chimed in Julie Saunders forcefully.
“Nikki and Miss Betts were standing up for her as well. It’s great that they’re all friends,” Julie Johnson added in a sentimental vein.
“She’s got some really good looking tasty women looking after her. Take that fair-haired woman wearing that classy suit. I like a bit of posh, myself,” Selena coolly observed much to general laughter. She felt no especial reason to defend the indefensible. It spoke volumes for the lighthearted atmosphere that even the moody and jealous Kris burst out into loud laughter.
“Miss Stewart’s dead brilliant. I always thought when she left this place she’d do all right,” was Denny’s contribution.
“Wonder how bastard Fenner’s getting used to lousy weekly spends, no booze, being locked up every night and no Miss Betts to con,” Kris added in cutting tones.
“No women at all, neither,” laughed Julie Johnson.
“That’s enough. You’re all on report for slanderising a prison officer,” exploded a furious Bodybag.
“A former prison officer,” gently corrected Yvonne with that impish look on her face.”He’s as bad a crook as my Charlie ever was. Trouble was that his rackets never got found out till he tried to frame Miss Betts for murder.”
“That’s enough,” Di Barker raged.” I will not see the name of one of our long standing prison officers held up to ridicule.”
The mocking laughter that greeted this feeble attempt to be assertive had to be seen to believed. It took a long time to die down. When it did, there was something very ominous in the sudden derisive silence with which the row of women suddenly viewed Di Barker between narrow slitted eyes. The thought sparked round all the women to contrast Miss Stewart’s heroism and this one time acting wing governor of G wing.

“Better quit while you’re losing Di. It’s not as if you’re ahead of the game,” Colin Hedges observed laconically.” I never knew her but from what I’ve heard she deserved a bit of respect. Let’s show it. She was a senior prison officer as well, wasn’t she?”

The women caught Yvonne’s look of respect for this guy as he quietly nailed Di stone dead. The murmurs of assent marked this sudden shift in mood. Yvonne reflected how he had come up in the world from the pathetic junkie that he once was. In reality, he was wearing the pips round here along with Miss Geeson. The mood was cool now so they could chill out. They were going to treasure this moment for a long, long time.

*******

With this last question, the intensity of the press interview gradually faded away. The more rapacious questioners realized that this woman was no pushover but gave out uncomfortably much more than she got. While a few flashguns still clicked away, the reporters started to fade away into the background, leaving the band of sisters and brothers alone but united on the windswept pavement. Beth gave a brief half-smile at her friends and made an unhurried exit along with the other reporters with whom she appeared to have something in common. Karen knew that she’d catch up with her girlfriend later on and get the full story. A feeling of finality descended on the group who were all starting to feel cold, something they had not noticed before.

“Where do we go to from here?” said George finally breaking the silence that had fallen on them.
“You’re looking really tired, Helen,” Trisha said, her voice laden with gentle concern. "Mind you, you and Nikki have been burning the candle at both ends in clubbing most nights after a hard day at work.”
“Well, to make up for that, Nikki, you’re having tomorrow off work. I won’t hear of you turning up at work and, you, Helen, ought to keep her company,” Paul gently intervened, drawing appreciative smiles from the others. In the meantime, George picked up on the positive glow of attraction that interplayed between John and Jo all this time but noted that they seemed curiously shy about it in company.

“I know it’s becoming a tradition that we all head off to Chix once the establishment has had it’s face well and truly ground into the mud but I feel that I’m ready to drop,” Helen frankly admitted, much against her will to put the dampers on things.
” Give us a good rest for tonight and the following day, Trisha and I will be up for a celebration on Friday night.”
“And in the meantime, John, you ought to take Jo out for a meal,” Nikki gently intervened. Her quiet words caused silent consternation as John wasn’t sure that Jo wasn’t sure that John wasn’t sure that it was or wasn’t such a good idea. Helen was taken aback how the woman who had battled so valiantly for them was being emotionally exposed like this.
“I hadn’t thought of that, John. I mean I didn’t want to presume,” Jo finally said very nervously.
”Jo, I’ve seen the way that you two have been looking at each other,” George said softly and earnestly, without a trace of play-acting.” You really deserve a future together that I’ve found with Alice if you both give yourself that chance. Now that you know that I’m out of the picture, that’s more possible than it’s ever been before.”
“Helen and I have known for a long time how lonely you’ve been,” followed up Nikki, seeing the uncertain looks pass between them. ”"We agree with George but you don’t have to rush things. Look at this as your first date no matter what's gone on before. We’re not pushing you into each other’s direction to phase out our friendship, quite the opposite."
"You don’t get rid of us that easily, John, believe you me," laughed Helen."Anytime you want to crash the night, you’re as welcome as you’ve ever been. The point is that you both need more out of life than what you’ve got. Just do it please, for us.”
Both John and Jo were mesmerized by the fount of knowledge that Nikki and Helen were pouring over them. They admired the way they tuned into their insecurities and fears, and pointed them in the right direction.
“Nikki is such a romantic,” added Helen.
“I’ve got to head off home soon, you guys,” Paul said in his imperturbable way,” so if Nikki and Helen go home to collapse at home and John and Jo have their date, then the rest of you can go to Chix if you want to. That way, everyone’s happy.”
“Paul, you are a genuine nice guy and you’ve hit on a great idea,” Trisha said warmly, shaking the man’s hand, grateful for his tactful way of blending his contribution to the mix.” I’ll phone up for taxis if anyone needs them, yeah?”

John and Jo looked into each other’s eyes. Somehow, the possibilities of their future being edged together by these two very compassionate women made them nervous and ezxcited at the same time.The other women created a warm encouraging atmosphere where there was no competition. They knew they had a lot of troubled history to live down but this wasn't an insurmountable obstacle as it once seemed.This siren presence was silently and mysteriously telling them that they should put aside their fears and distrust and that it might be easier than they had long feared. All they needed was to figure out some unspoiled instinct between them to guide them. It wasn’t as if Jo needed to be worried right now by John’s eye being taken by some transient attractive women. These women were attractive but off limits and this made things feel curiously safe. They both wanted to believe that they didn't need to run through their usual gavotte of their turbulent relationship and perhaps, this time around, things might be different.Everything was both complicated and attractive at the same time.

Jo shook hands with all the others, Helen and Nikki being most effusive in their farewells before turning to John.

“I know a quiet intimate place we can eat and talk. We’ve got a lot to catch up with. You won’t know that Nikki and Helen have taken me considerably in hand since you’ve been away.”

John smiled that splendid free and easy smile of his, free of all his cares, shook everyone’s hand likewise. They linked their hands together and strolled off down the city streets while everyone else prepared to make the long tired journey back home.

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GG72
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Great as always, I like you getting John and Jo back together. And Helen taking on the press. :clap
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richard
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Thanks GG72 for the post which is appreciated as always. Here is the next scene



Scene Thirty-Two


In retrospect, both Nikki and Helen’s memories of just how they got back to their flat were blurred at the edges. Only when they were safely in their cosy bedroom did the succession of incoherent shifting images start to take shape. Nikki moved closer to Helen and affectionately slipped off Helen’s jacket and laid it on the stool by their dressing table. Their bedroom had never looked so warm, so inviting and so homelike as right now.

“I never thought I’d be so glad to be with you at the end of this day,” Nikki murmured, leaning her forehead against Helen’s and looking deeply into her eyes. Their lips brushed lovingly against each other, time and time again, as if to be sure that what each saw and touched was for real.

“I can’t believe that I can feel you next to me, sweetheart,” whispered Helen passionately, as she started up unbutton Nikki’s shirt. She had done this many a time since she had started living with Nikki but never had the pleasure seemed so vivid, so sharp since their first night as free women.

“You mean, you were really afraid that I’d be left on the outside,” murmured the taller woman softly, starting to kiss the other woman’s neck softly and tenderly.

Helen nodded mutely, tears in her eyes. That said enough for Nikki, who felt her lover’s sudden outpourings of emotions without words. Nikki gathered the smaller woman in her arms, physically reassuring her of her presence, now and for always. Helen leant against her lover and clung on tightly to her. All their world around her told her that the nightmare had passed and any post-traumatic shock would slowly fade away in time.

“Better now, darling?” Nikki asked in her softest, most tender fashion and the smaller woman’s face broke into the most heart-warming smile imaginable. Helen’s manner silently told her lover that she relished every minute of unbuttoning the taller woman’s shirt. She might not have had this opportunity if events had turned out differently. When she came to the last button, her eyes widened at the delightful sight of her lover’s curves and her white bra, which she immediately set out to unclip. Nikki’s fingers and lips hadn’t been exactly idle in the meantime and in this sleepy but tender mood, both women slipped into bed to temporarily banish the outside world and to reconnect with their inner worlds. They had stepped off the public stage and now was the time for themselves.

They lay next to each other on soft white pillows, a clean white sheet and their duvet over them. Everything felt clean and fresh and the memory of the harsh, thin brown blankets and her solitary cell at Larkhall came back to Nikki. She shivered and Helen’s luminous green eyes and the gentle touch of her fingers were immediately present.
“There’s no need to worry now, darling. You and I aren’t going anywhere. We’ve seen to that today.”
“Thank God for that,” Helen answered, sliding her arm round her lover’s back and gently stroking her hair. She eagerly nuzzled the other woman’s neck and drank in the texture of her touch, her perfume and her soft voice.
“Mind you, I can’t deny that there were times when I was worried. I knew that such a lot was riding on what we and others did. I had faith, see,”Nikki continued in sprightly tones which didn’t fool Helen any.
“Whenever I look at you right now, I know more than ever just how much you mean to me. I can’t find words enough to say how much I love you. The whole situation seemed crazy. Only we and our friends felt like the sane ones.”
“You don’t think I haven’t been frightened too. I dare not even put into words the worst that could have happened. You’ve got me, darling, for the long run, for ever and ever,” confessed Nikki at last in her fiercely passionate reply. She edged Helen around in bed so that Helen’s lips and tongue gently caressed Nikki’s left nipple while her left arm traced lines down the length of smooth skin of the taller woman’s back.

Both women felt in a lazy sleepy paradise as the last traces of the setting winter sunlight somehow cast a pallid light through the closed curtains.

“Darling, I really wish I weren’t so tired right now. I know what I’d want to do if I was sure you had the energy either.”
“Perhaps, we’ll see how we feel, babes,” Helen murmured in the intervals between when her lips and tongue were free. She could feel the faint stirrings in Nikki’s body and seriously wondered just how tired out she really was.
“We don’t have to rush things. We don’t have to rush anything. We have all the time in the world,” Nikki said huskily, her fingers gently stroking the contours of Helen’s cheeks, her leg sliding over Helen’s and up the length of it. The two women moved around so that they kissed each other more deeply while they embraced and caressed each other. Finally, Helen turned over and lay on her back, sensing that her lover’s desires could be made physical reality more easily than her own. Nikki propped herself up and looked down of her lover’s full-bodied figure, her lips slightly parted. She kissed her lover deeply and passionately, and Helen’s legs wrapped themselves around her as they sighed and murmured sweet loving to each other. Nikki kissed her way down Helen’s ripe body, her desires giving her enough strength as Helen’s hips started thrusting eagerly back at her. Already, her desires were starting to flow as her sweet toned voice moaned her endearments. Nikki tantalisingly ran her tongue up the inside of Helen’s thighs as her lover begged her eagerly to enter her. Finally, Nikki’s tongue slipped inside her and coaxed her towards the orgasm that spoke of her freedom of desires and from all fears in her life. It seemed that the movement of her hips would never stop nor the rivers of desires that poured over her banks. This was life as it should be and Nikki knew beyond doubt that her lover would do better than she promised in life. This constancy in Helen was one of the many reasons why Nikki loved this woman of hers and felt so comfortably and triumphantly possessive of her. Loving Helen was what feelings were made for, after all, and as the aftershocks of Helen’s first orgasm started to die away, Nikki was left with that delicious taste in her mouth. The taste of victory was indeed sweet, or so her heightened perceptions told her.

******

That night was dreamless for both women and they woke up the next day with a wonderful satisfied feeling inside them, both from the night before and everything they had striven for up till then. While they knew as a bald fact that they’d given the establishment a bloody nose, the full impact started to dawn on them as they felt fresher- and most of all, that the living nightmare that had dogged their footsteps had been abolished. Consequently, they lay in bed till late, before having a tray of toast and coffee to make them feel as if it were some kind of luxury hotel room service. The utter quiet in the road told them that everyone was at work except them and they deserved it. It was when they were still floating around in their nighties when the phone rang unexpectedly. Nikki’s eyebrows were knitted in puzzlement. Just who the hell would know that they weren’t at work, except their circles of friends and supporters who would clearly give them time to themselves?

“Hello, Nicola,” sounded the very cheery male voice in her ear. It immediately gave her a positive and relieved glow inside her. Her Dad of course.
“I had to phone to tell you how delighted your mother and I are at the outcome of that scandalous trial. I watched Helen on TV and she was every bit as brilliant as I expected her to be. Apart from one or two honourable exceptions, the press were either fools or knaves and Helen made mincemeat of them.”
“How in hell did you work out that we’d have the day off, dad?” Nikki asked in puzzled tones, This drew a hearty laugh on the other end of the phone.
“You’ve always sang the praises of your boss so I deduced that if he’s as decent as you say he is, he’d let you have the Friday off to recuperate. Simple, isn’t it. You deserve it as let’s face it, last time you and Helen were over, I could tell that you were both feeling the strain despite keeping up appearances.”
“Dad, you are fantastic. We’re been taking it easy but we’re going out to celebrate at Chix,” Nikki replied in glowing tones while Helen grinned broadly in the background.
“I’m sure you’ll both have a great time, and thoroughly deserve it,” her father replied completely unselfconsciously.
“I don’t suppose you’ve heard from John about the court case,” Nikki asked nervously. She was sure that her brother was certain to swallow uncritically what the press said and would believe what he wanted to believe.
“Not as yet. When he does, you know that we’ll say what we think is right and proper, don’t you,” came the crisp reply that warned her not to pursue the matter. It was obvious that her dear brother had slagged off Helen to her parents and he had given his brother short shrift.
“Yes dad. I understand,” came her simple reply, handing over this problem for him to deal with.
“On a quite different topic, you don’t mind if I speak to Helen in person?” Nikki’s father asked politely.
“By all means. Helen would be only too glad to chat,” Nikki said, gesturing for her to come over. The smaller woman came over, feeling totally relaxed and smiling as she picked up the phone.
“Helen, I just wanted to tell you how proud we are of you. You showed every inch the strength of character that we know that both you and my daughter have in abundance. Obviously, the news only shows a quick two minutes. I’m sure you both stood tall through the trial but I know it can’t have been easy.”
“That’s really lovely of you to say this and considerate and kind to phone us.”
“Between you and me, my wife and I feel a bit constricted by some in the community who are what you might call narrow minded. I’ve given a piece of my mind already to some idiots who’ve read the press and jumped to the wrong conclusions.”
“I hope that hasn’t made thinks too awkward for you,” Helen said in a concerned tone of voice for him.
“That’s the last thing you need to worry about, Helen, considering what the pair of you have gone through. I have to admit that life can be a bit too quiet round here and I have a bit of a combative streak in me.You know where Nicola gets that from.”
Helen laughed at the mischievous way in which the older man spoke. He sounded really young and still in the full vigour of his life.
“Before I forget, I wanted to say that if you want to come up our way if you need a break, we’d be only too happy to put you up. That’s a promise.”
“We’d love to. We’re only starting to wake up into thinking of events beyond the trial but we’ll definitely take you up on your kind offer.”

******

Jo woke up, feeling on top of the world after recalling the intimate chat in a candlelit café she’d shared with John.

She’d been fully prepared for the John Deed that she’d always known to invite her for an intimate candlelit dinner and ply her with wine and his silver tongued charm as a prelude to coaxing her into bed. Not for one moment had she believed that he would take one iota of notice of Helen and Nikki’s perceptive advice to go slow. She grinned at how those two women had got him taped. She had expected him pursue his own agenda tenaciously as much as he pursued justice passionately in court. By contrast, that spirit and humanity seemed to evaporate the morning after she’d been persuaded to sleep with him. While she was away working up north, she had been able to think of him with greater detachment and concluded that he was a sex addict. It was a very cruel and brutal term but no less than his habitual infidelities deserved and, worse still, his inability to express any shame when confronted about his misdeeds.

This time around, their conversation had taken a surprisingly aimless, unhurried stroll through life in general. After a little hesitation, she had let at least some of her reserve drop. Every so often, he would chat affectionately about Nikki and Helen and she felt intriguingly unthreatened and comfortable at moments like these.

“They obviously mean a lot to you, John,” she had smiled at the man's frank and open expression, his blue eyes glinting in the candlelight.

“They’ve put me through quite a few changes. I have never had such true female friends before in my life, that pure disinterested meeting of minds, not even with you, Jo. I am wholly to blame for that. It could still finally happen if we put my past stupidities behind us. I know that is asking a lot.”

That remark jolted Jo into sitting up and taking notice in view of John’s unabashed honesty with himself and his humility and the lack of demands he placed on her.

She had woken on her own with the promise when they would meet again. They’d both instinctively decided to take things slowly and start to get to know each other all over again. She didn't want to underrate how much changes would be required of them both.
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Carissa
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Richard,
Your efforts here are greatly appreciated. :) I look forward to reading more.
C
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GG72
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I like the spin of Nikki getting to know her Dad and he liking Helen it's nice for a change. :wub:
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richard
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Hi Carissa and GG72. Lovely to receive your feedback as it's nice to be appreciated and, more important, that you're enjoying the fic.

I'll post the next scene which covers a fair amount of ground. Enjoy.


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

Scene Thirty-Three

A/ N Credits - Duncan Campbell The Guardian Friday August 15 2008 for the non italics part of the article. This part isn’t fiction but is very real and up to date



The spirit of sunshine at its peak prompted Helen to stroll round to the local newsagent to buy some milk and teabags while Nikki energetically sorted through the pile of washing in their linen basket. Somehow everything practical had been put on hold in their lives by the impending trial and later in the afternoon, she suddenly realized what had accumulated and now she was in the mood to tackle it.

When Helen walked on down the street, the wind ruffled her hair and the sun slanted smilingly on her good fortune. It was when she got to the local newsagent when she had picked up the items and put them in the basket when she looked at the papers. She gave up on the tabloids in despair but leafed through the Guardian and the Independent and, on page 3 of the second newspaper, she saw a medium sized photograph of her and her friends.

Helen’s jaw hung open in amazement. For all her involvement in first Nikki reappeal, then Sally Anne’s compensation case and Karen’s trial, she found the sight of her face on the front page and the competently written account of her life by a certain Elizabeth Pritchard as a real eye-opener. She finally took in the enormity of the events that slashed the government’s reputation to ribbons. In some strange way, what she had gone through wasn’t totally real until she read about it in the press or saw it on TV. Intellectually, she knew how stupidly irrational it was but her emotions ran counter to that. She paid for her purchases, grabbed her paper, shot out the door, and thirty seconds later returned for the milk and teabags, all excited and flustered. She couldn’t wait to show the papers to Nikki…..

*******



“The judiciary has demonstrated both their humanity and their grip of reality in throwing out of court the charges against Miss Stewart under the very tarnished Official Secrets Act whose existence has been long overdue for drastic surgery. The charges of disclosing information gained during her tenure as wing governor and acting governing governor all stem from the blinkered belief that the hard hitting report by the Howard League for Penal Reform must have had some assistance from inside information. The defence never contested that Helen Stewart is living with the author of the report but successfully refuted the charge that she had contributed to the contents. What is more staggering is that the author was well placed to put right the misapprehensions of the Home Office in the first stages of the police investigation but wasn't allowed to. If it weren’t for the sustained witch hunt of a hard working professional woman, then this would truly be considered a ‘Whitehall Farce’ worthy of the West End stage.
There is a wider historical dimension to this whole sorry episide. ‘Powers under the Official Secrets Act have been
exercised to frustrate former employees of the crown from bringing into the public domain issues of genuine public interest, and can be exercised to prevent the media from publishing such matters.’

Over the past few years, this government has indulged in a positive orgy of legislation to serve the fickle interests of the tabloid press. There is a far more more pressing need for the government to drastically prune back the Official Secrets Act and publicly apologise to Miss Stewart for the damage done to her life.”

Helen and Nikki sprawled on the sofa that afternoon in a blissful haze as they rejoiced in the public celebration of their triumph, newspapers spread all around them. They felt that they had all the reason under the sun to savour the moment. It was this detachment of spirit that led them to be only aware very late in the day of a persistent rattattatting on their front door. For one second, they wondered if history was repeating itself and they would be suddenly propelled into a repeating time loop of another crisis. Nikki's caution was rewarded by a much more pleasant surprise.

"I've got a letter which I simply must show you," George exclaimed loudly, waving a piece of paper in her hand ."Read it, read it, read it. You simply must hear what it says."

Both women's attention were grabbed as it was so unusual for the the very sophisticated Georgia Channing to dance around like an excited schoolchild. They zeroed on her and did their best to focus on the letter. They saw that it was written in a flowing script complete with various artistic doodles in the margins. This person must be very special, they thought.

"Don't you see," George declaimed, dancing all around them on her very high heels,"This is from Tori Amos. She's actually replied to us. This is the best news ever in my life, I mean in our lives. It couldn't have come at a better time."

They suddenly felt that they were sucking in all the oxygen in the room and became dizzy and light-headed that their message floated in a bottle vould have had any response at all. They had the feeling that this response would be very special. With unbelieving eyes, they studied the carefully crafted script and began to feel the way George did. This wasn't a time to be cool and sophisticated.



'You must all forgive me as I've been so late in replying to your enthralling letter.

I don't claim that an artistic ego can demand special privileges and be excused forgetfulness or oversight. My excuse is the special intensity of performing on a long tour of 'Scarlett's Walk' means I can share my music with as many kind hearts as possible. It means I can mess up on taking care of fundamentals. Now that I am off the road, I have the chance to reorientate myself to the simple things of life.

It might seem really wierd to you all but I also really wanted to take time to tune in to the richness of spirit in your letter. Obviously an artist worth her name will respond to any heartfelt message and I wouldn't want to show favouritism as egos are such delicate things, mine, yours and everyone.

I want to know that you all reminded me that we are all fellow travellers through this journey in life and we should all follow our spirit's guidance.

I hope you will bear with me patiently and that this letter appears in a right time in your lives.

Love to you all

Tori.


"Bless that woman," Helen said, her words dripping with affection. "If we'd received the letter a week earlier, would we have been in the best frame of mind to appreciate it? Some guiding spirit made Tori Amos send the letter late and we got it when we did."

Another pleasurable wave of spiritual emotion broke over them. They knew above all else that the rest of the gang had to hear about this. Nikki reached for the phone straightaway.


*******

John Deed had arranged for a similar range of papers to be sent in to him and Monty at the digs. Both bellowed in free wheeling laughter at the scathing attack on the government in the Independent as they sat at the long dinner table.

“This is the best news I’ve read since….”
“…..the last Larkhall Prison based trial?” interjected John in amused tones which made Monty grin broadly. John was right, as usual as he continued in tones of admiration. ”They spell the kiss of death for the establishment. I think after this, they’ll leave them well alone. They did better than even I expected.”

“I knew that the combination of Jo Mills and George would be more than a match for Sir Alan who’s a legal mediocrity. I totally admired Ms Wade’s and Ms Stewart’s utterly lethal facility with the spoken word as they ran circles round him.”

“If I hadn’t dealt with the case, it would have fallen to you to deal with.”

“Don’t I know it,” John replied laconically but with deep affection for Monty for taking the heat off him.” Want to have a drink tonight and celebrate?”

Monty’s mischievous grin was enough of a reply for John.

******


That evening, the music was pumping out its loudest and beams of coloured lights were careering their way around the dance hall at ‘Chix.’ It was a crowded night on Friday January 25th 2002 as women poured into the club in droves. Amongst them was Helen, a brilliant smile splitting her face in two, wearing one of her favourite low cut dresses that fitted her shapely curves to perfection. Nikki looked ravishing in a new chocolate fitted halter neck top and cream coloured loose fitting trousers. Both women felt clean and fresh and were out to defiantly and pleasurably enjoy themselves rather than filling in their lives with noise and activity to blot out their fears. This was their own treat, their reward for all their sheer doggedness and, above all else, it was a celebration of all their freedoms as Beth led the way to hug and kiss them softly as they appeared through the doors. The buzz of sheer electric excitement animated them all as two marvellous happenings had energised them.


“Hi Helen, glad to be in the land of the free at last,” murmured Karen as she was next to last in kissing her affectionately on her cheek.

“You know what that feels like Karen,” Helen said in softer reflective tones with that lightning quick reaction on her features that were her trademark “At least I haven’t lost my job like you did. They’ve been good to me. They know what the deal was. If I keep the firm’s name out of the press and I settle down to quiet domesticity, they'll stand by me.”

“Quiet domesticity? You?” exclaimed a laughing George, coming up behind Helen and draping her hand on the dark-haired woman’s shoulder.” You and Nikki are too fond of a good crusading battle.”

“Whatever I’ve ever started in my life, I have to see through to the end,” smiled Nikki in reply as she watched Karen and Beth take to the dance floor. Her right hand was tightly linked in Helen’s as the smaller woman started to chatter away to Alice.

“You sound like John,” George said.” I find it frightfully hard to choose between the two of you as to who is the more recklessly courageous. Of course, I’ve only seen the full inside story of what's happened to John since I’ve talked with Jo Mills recently.”

“It’s really strange that I’ve been a lesbian all my life, George. I never found men my flavour so when I started having teenage fantasies, it was always images of women’s looks that did it for me before I discovered the real thing for myself. It’s really ironical that at my time in life, I have quite a few friends who are straight men and they mean just as much as any female friend I’ve ever known. I felt comfortable with Dominic McAllister at Larkhall prison except when I thought he was moving in on Helen and caused a major friction. Tony Foster is a good mate while Paul Williams, my boss is such a sweetheart. As for John, I feel such a sense of kinship with the guy that, in some mysterious way, I feel we’re cut from the same cloth….”

Nikki articulated her words slowly while the flashing colours washed over her senses. The dance music coming off the speakers also made her feel safely wrapped up in a snug atmosphere. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Trisha and Sally Anne let their eye go off the ball for a moment and were softly kissing each other, Trisha’s slim fingers ruffling her lover’s long black hair.

“You don’t get to see the downside of living with John,” put in George gently. “The trouble is that I’ve been married to him.”

“I know what you mean,” Nikki acknowledged, almost sadly and wistfully. It was then that she felt Helen’s lips against her ear and seductively invite her onto the dance floor. Laughing, Nikki took the other woman’s hand. Somehow, in this mysterious world of hers, moments of interesting personal conversations were bookended against feelings of desire for her partner and losing herself to the sensual rhythms of this club. She thought dreamily about how it still made a difference these days and hazily realized that, all those years ago, she set out with Trisha had set out to create that difference.

Meanwhile Sally Anne looked over Trisha’s shoulder, feeling soft kisses dropping on her neck, while a woman with long fair hair was deeply kissing her lover with that smart immaculate bob haircut, low cut and nearly backless slinky red dress. The moment was charged with eroticism and she felt pleased that what she had with Trisha gave succour to others as well as themselves. It was only a little later that she saw a hand wave at her and that well known broad grin announced that it was Karen.

All the women read and reread Tori Amos's letter to them and were overcome by a wave of emotion that took them all on a natural high that was the ultimate celebration of their existence. Trisha decided straightaway that a certain CD deserved another airing instead of the regular dance music and she had a word with the DJ to fix that. The music that pumped out louder and clearer than normally and had special resonances for them all, or so Helen judged as she sipped at her glass of double vodka and lemonade as she looked at her lover, the other side of the table. She was feeling a little drunk and woozy and Nikki’s face wavered in front of her. An outpouring of emotion welled up inside her as she contemplated her soul mate who was never far from her however much the hours of work might separate them. She reached across that space between them to embrace her lover. It was so easy to cross spaces these days and she knew how far both of them had come. No more of fear for what might have happened but the sheer joy of the open road that lay ahead for them, Nothing could stop them now.
“We’ve got such a long way to go, babes. Everything is possible,” Nikki kept whispering fiercely in her ear. Helen clung on for dear life, as she knew that beyond doubt how true that was. She could feel it and taste it.
It was a little while later when Ros and Jenny came up to them, both with knowing looks on their face.
“Helen, you know we’ve been right behind you from day one. We’re your mates, right.”
Helen grinned easily. Everyone and everything inside this club was like friends to her right now. She indicated to Ros to continue.
“There’s just one question I’ve always wanted to ask you. When we pulled you two over just what were you doing? I promise that this conversation goes no further, right?”

Just for one second, Helen wondered just what personal secret she would divulge and how far it would go and then everything became crystal clear. Right now, she didn’t need Nikki to tell her that she could pull out the last card from under her sleeve. Secrets were only there to lock away that which should be proteced and there had to be a damn good reason for it. Otherwise, everything should be out there right in the open, just as Nikki always was. She took a deep breath and reeled off the story. Ros and Jenny drank everything in with satisfied expressions and nodded with satisfaction. It had cleared up a question that had always intrigued them.

“Thanks a million. I know it takes a lot for you to come out with all that stuff and you didn't have to tell us.”
With that, first Ros and then Jenny embraced Helen with surprising gentleness and kissed her cheek. Helen was touched by their solicitude. She never thought that butch female policewomen were capable of such tender feelings. It gave her a wonderful feeling that everything was possible in this world. Standing a little back, she knew from the expressive look on Nikki’s face that her feelings were shared.
“Hey, Helen, we were wondering if you wanted to say a few words from the mike. I know you’ve testified for your life in court, then out there for the press but some women here mightn’t have followed your case. This is the most sympathetic audience you could get. You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Trisha asked her, hesitation written on her face.
Unknown to Trisha, she couldn’t have timed it better. Trisha led Helen to wards the console booth where the DJ played the last track and fiddled with the mike. She tested it for feedback and volume and stepped aside.
“I’ll keep this short and sharp. I don’t want to come over like some angry politically obsessed woman who’s not in tune with myself but yesterday, I was freed from someone’s sick idea that I had betrayed ultra important government secrets from when I worked in the prison service. Today, I beat the rap together with dear and loyal friends who are with me tonight and, let it be said, with straight friends in the legal professions. The point is this. If we stick together, we’re unbeatable. We can really do it if we have the heart and mind to do it. That’s all I wanted to say.”
As if by magic, the DJ picked up on Helen's meaning and slid in the triumphant tones of David Bowie’s ‘Heroes’, that superconfident rhythm that overcame everything, rode over every obstacle, that high-pitched synthesizer line winding in and out of the melody. The audience down there on the dance floor burst into spontaneous applause and danced along with that perfectly etched feeling of triumph of them all.


“We can beat them, just for one day
Cause we’re lovers, that is a fact
Yes we’re lovers and that is that
We could be heroes, just for one day
We could be heroes, just for one day
I, I can remember
Standing, by the wall
And the guns shot over our heads
And we kissed as though nothing could fall
And the shame was on the other side
Oh we can beat them, forever and ever…….”


Nikki cast a look of pure gratitude on the DJ who was only doing her job the way she saw it. She took Helen by the hand and both women up there in the console swayed along with the music. That song got everything right that her heart and mind felt right, summoning up the disparate feelings of love and struggle together, Everything fitted in their lives. The night could never end for all they were concerned.





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Carissa
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Richard, it was nice to see the newspapers take up the cause.
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