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Culture of Conscience, Richard; Bad Girls / Judge John Deed (5th)
Topic Started: Oct 12 2010, 04:52 PM (5,874 Views)
richard
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Bad Girls and Judge John Deed and all its characters are property of Shed Productions and GF Newman and BBC productions respectively. The author implies no ownership of these characters, and they are used in the stories without permission solely for entertainment and not for profit. The character of Kristine Thorne is based on a real person and she has given her consent for this. I am happy to accept constructive feedback openly as it will improve the quality of my writing."



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Scene One


Sir Ian's nerves were stretched drum tight as he waited to be called through the polished panelled mahogany door into the inner sanctum of the Cabinet Secretary, the highest ranking civil servant in the realm from whom all favours and dispensations flowed.. Normally, he had free access to this privileged position by virtue of his prestige as a high flier. He felt proud of himself, of his status near the very top of the hierarchy but now he felt deflated, his sense of substance mysteriously drained away from him.

It should not be this way, he reflected bitterly, as he sat on the carved mahogany bench outside the office of the head of the civil service. He knew that his conduct over the last year would be weighed in the balence and found wanting, as the ancient saying had it. He hadn't realised till now how merciless that saying was, that the scales of judgment had tipped away from him. Everything had been going for him as he ascended effortlessly up the ladder- until recently.

It was such infernal bad luck, he thought to himself.He might have wondered where he had gone wrong, but he knew better than that. He might at one time have considered that Deed was his nemesis, stalking him as he planned and schemed but he drew his net wider than that. It was all down to that gaggle of women whom he had sat behind, all watching a series of trials unfold. He could see them before his eyes so clearly as, after all, he had spent many hours sitting at the back of the visitor's gallery watching the trials disintegrate, one by one, into total farce and disorder. He could not forget the uncomfortable feel of the bench underneath him nor likewise could he forget the row of women in front and below him, There they were , that tall woman with short cropped hair whispering to the smaller woman with a short bobbed haircut and strong Scottish accent. It was curious that the strongest impression he had of this gaggle of women was from behind. In a way, he was relieved by this distancing effect as they had that same cool, mocking expression in their eyes on the occasions when he'd come across them face to face as well as the odd unseemly row.

He remembered when the fates had started to turn against him in a really big way when that dratted Wade woman had enveigled her way through the Court of Appeal hearing and the judges had succumbed to a spasm of soft-heartedness in concocting some nonsensical formula to erase the dreadful crime she'd committed. He even remembered her having the cheek to horn in on some dreadful row with Deed and she'd teamed up with him. Two of a kind they are, he fumed, no respect for authority, the inevitable demands that family upbringing demands of you. Here he is, trying his best to hold society together night and day and Deed and this gang of women just couldn't care less in letting everything fly apart, everything in a state of anarchic disorder. They're so blatent in their disregard for everything he's been brought upto hold dear.One look in their direction shows the contempt in their eyes for him .........

Suddenly way overhead, the distant sound of a jet aircraft gradually builds up and slices its way into his consciousness. The gradually sustained tearing sounds took his fevered mind in a leap of perception to a different time and place. There he was , waiting outside the front door of the Headmaster's Study. The same feeling swept through his nervous system. He knew very well that he would receive a detention from from his old headmaster at the least, if not a caning. It wasn't his fault, he rememnbered, sweating inside. All he had done was to have his attention diverted from doing his homework in on time.In a sickening moment of horror, he'd suddenly realised it first thing in the morning and, in a blind panic, handed in his exercise book, without the precious English composition that he should have written. It didn't cross his mind to come out with a smoothly convincing story to talk his way out of trouble and his form teacher icily pointed out that the Head would be informed. Looking backwards, he blushed at his hopeless naivety when even then, he dimly sensed that others had the 'gift of the gab' as it was vulgarly phrased. He went into the room when what seemed like a dreadful bellow resonated through the door. Nervously, he ran his hands through his ruffled hair, trying to smooth it down into a presentable state. Shaking in his shoes, he let himself into the inner sanctum, which was barred to all pupils as a rule.

"Rochester, I've heard reasonable reports from your form teacher that you try hard though your work could be better. I was shocked, absolutely shocked to hear from your teacher of this latest scandalous episode."

The pause in the oration gave him just enough time for his word to shrivel his sense of self worth when the lecture carried on.

"Forgetting to do your homework is a serious enough matter but deliberately trying to pass off your homework as complete well, that's letting the side down."

It was that remark, the look of disappointment in the headmaster's eye, his tone of voice that really hit home. It was true. He had let the side down and he vowed there and then that he would never let the side down for the rest of his life.So the relentless lecture on his shortcomings continued to be thrown in his face. All the while, he smiled upwards at the headmaster, leaning overhead, so big , tall and threatening. All the time, he shot sideways glances at the curved cane that was resting on the side. When the headmaster finally told him he was getting a detention, he so blessed the headmaster for his kindness even though his sense of well-being had been savaged. Somehow, he stumbled out of the door, vowing to do better next time.

That was the one and only time he ever received a detention and this spurred him on to be diligent and conscientious throughout his life even if he couldn't possess that careless brilliance of Deed, he could at least be hardworking and always take note of authority that hung over his head. And now he was going through that humiliation all over again...

*********

"Sir Ian, Sir Ian," the dried up looking, severe elderly woman called repeatedly at the man whose eyes were staring wide open and through her. He didn't seem to be in the same world, the woman tut-tutted under her breath as she waited impatiently, a file under her arm.

Slowly, Sir Ian returned to the present. Of course he knew the woman well who was the doorkeeper of the Cabinet Secretary. No longer was he the short trousered schoolboy but the mature man in his blue Saville Row suit who had grown up to have a whole army of underlings under him. He was a knight of the realm, having been favoured for elevation and being picked out for favour amongst his colleagues.Things were different now, surely. Nervously, he ran his forefinger round the inside of his white shirt, his tie feeling a little too tight and entered the room.

Sir Ian was ushered into a white, severe functional room where his chair was laid out for him and he was greeted by the Cabinet Secretary affably enough. They shook hands as always and he indicated the chair that was laid out for him as was Sir Ian's file, the indicator as to his future. Everything seemed as normal, wasn't it?

"I've taken a great interest in your career ever since you qualified under the fast track management scheme and I've ensured your regular advancement as a 'high flier.'

With expert timing, the Cabinet Secretary had racheted up the tension in Sir Ian, the more to cripple him morally. Sir Ian knew only too well as he had pulled the same trick on his own subordinates.

"Your problem is that you're simply failing to deliver on what's expected of you- no let me finish,' the authoritarian patrician tones commanded and beat down Sir Ian's very rare moment of protest against this harsh judgment. Sir Ian coloured, his blood pressure skyrocketed but in one fatal instant, said nothing and let that second expand outwards into minutes and then all eternity. "Your function is the smooth management of the judges on the one hand and the executive on the other hand. The fact of the matter is that you've failed to achieve your primary task and that is to achieve a harmonious relationship- in both directions. The LCD has been marginalised as a force both in government and in the wider community."

Sir Ian's nervous tension had reached fever pitch. He really did feel like an awkward schoolboy all over again. Did growing up and becoming a mature and responsible citizen mean nothing when all is said and done?

"Fortunately for you, we aren't as ruthless as outside industry and for this you must be grateful," the man said in stern tones even while the lifeline was being thrown out to him. Or was this an illusion and would he be left to drown while everyone looked on dispassionately? would his fall from grace be discussed with brief reminiscences before his public life would be discreetly packaged away, never to be mentioned again?

"It stands to reason that you will not qualify for the customary bonus," the Cabinet Secretary said in implacable tones, his razor edged gaze not quite meeting Sir Ian's nervous flickering vision. The words were like an arrow plunged into Sir Ian's vitals, not for the financial blow but what it symbolised. He was deprived of the chance of holding his head up high, alongside his colleagues in other departments. Word of this was sure to get out. He didn't know how rumours started but he knew that private and confidential affairs did leak out. After all, word had reached his ears of similar matters. He wouldn't have reached such an exalted level in the LCD if he hadn't developed such radar ears and heard similar stories. The trouble was that it was totally different being the subject of such stories and talking about such matters in amused and dispassionate terms. Beneath the refined and patrician matters, the waters in which he swam were as ruthless and dangerous as a swirling South American river, populated by cannibalistic brightly coloured Pirahna fish. .

"Let's put it this way," the relentless voice continued. "Your next appraisal year is something of a trial period. Either you pull your socks up or else you face compulsory transfer to DEFRA or the Immigration Department. It's your choice, Ian. After all, as the Americans say, it's a free country."

Sir Ian's mouth opened wide. For a moment, his ears refused to believe what his mind was telling him. When the full force of the shock announcement that he would be declared supernumary to the Lord Chancellor's Department in which he had invested so much of his life, the stress levels built up to unimaginable heights. For some reason, he had never expected anything as bad as this. What made it worse was that the Cabinet Secretary's body language was telling him that his presence was no longer required. His eye glanced at the sideboard where he was accustomed to partake of a glass of wine with his appraising officer. That too, would be denied him. One last instinct prompted him to exchange closing pleasantries and stumble out of the room.


********

The house Sir Ian lived in was a very neat and precisely maintained Victorian house with a Grandfather clock in the living room along with ancient furniture that had been handed down from his late and revered parents. A wide framed photograph on the wall revealed lines of fresh faced schoolboys in school blazers, white shirts and ties and a younger version of himself sitting cross-legged on the grass in the front row. He had dedicated himself unquestioningly to his upbringing all his life. This picture stared down at him as he reached for the octagonal mahogany drinks cabinet and poured himself a stiff whisky. He needed that drink to separate himself from his cares and responsibilities.

Muzzily, he reflected that the house had a chilly silent feel about it as morose thoughts whirled around his head. Everything around him felt tainted and bereft of any value and comfort. At one time, he felt that he wanted the monk-like isolation
It was only now that he started to miss the company of his separated wife, Francesca Rochester. He had married her as she was well-connected, well-bred and very charming. He had supposed that her charms were for him only to possess until he found out otherwise. It was only after being married a little while that he realised that her frivolous, pleasure seeking personality was at odds with his own serious nature and that his attempt to recreate his parents marriage in himself was going to be problematical. It was only when that bounder Deed showed up on the scene that matters went from bad to worse. Now he was well rid of her and he had supposed that he had found his true vocation, his true destiny.


In the past, he had undergone the odd brief spell of depression and had snapped out of it when the challenges of the outside world inspired and energised him once again. Of course, not even his junior confidante Lawrence James saw that side of his personality. The proverbial English stipp upper lip made sure that there was no outward expressions of these negative inner feelings. This time, as he listlessly examined his papers for the next day at work, he halfway suspected that this morose mood would take its time to shift. It wasn't something that he particularly relished nor, quite frankly, was he inclined to dwell on. He knew above all else that too much introspection wasn't particularly helpful for a man of his particular background..Wearily, he resumed his scrutiny of the important departmental paperwork.




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richard
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Scene Two

By complete contrast, Nikki and Helen were lazing out in their back garden while the strong August sunlight streamed down on them, filtered by the leaves of the apple tree hanging overhead. Years ago, it had staked out its claim near the fence that separated them from their neighbour but, instead of seeing it as an invading force that would disturb the neatness of the garden, they let it grow with only a bit of discreet pruning. At this time of year it cast its shade on them both. They stared upwards at the dappled patterns of leaves, and illuminated by the sunshine it was a pleasurable experience. The two women lay side by side on recliners, wearing sunglasses and swimming costumes and mopping up the filtered sunshine. Both had that blissful, lazy sense of letting the day happen without a thought of plans and schedules. They had taken two weeks holiday just to laze around together.

A sequence of images flashed through Nikki's mind of the frenetic activity of the last year or so of her life, starting for her striving for the sort of responsible, caring job she was always cut out to walk into. Both women had immediately embarked on their struggles together to finally clear Nikki's name from the legal restrictions that had held her back. Hardly had they got that triumph under their belt when they had helped out Sally Anne in her struggles to get compensation and closure of her own torments. Next, they had been drawn into Karen's efforts to clear her name of the most ghastly, inappropriate charge imaginable, which had paved the way to Fenner being sent down. No sooner had the cell door clanged shut behind him when they had felt the full force of the establishment's attempt to exact revenge on them and finally, came the glorious news that they were going to be mothers. June 2002 had marked a turning point in Nikki and Helen's lives together as their life shifted gear. Jesus, so much had happened in so short a period of time but, best of all, they had built up a network of such close and enduring relationships, yes John Deed and Paul Williams included.

Nikki lay flat out on the sunbed, looking upwards through her dark glasses at the world around her. She had that blissful feeling that the universe that she shared with Helen was marvellously self contained. She could see that the garden she had tended earlier on in the year paralleled the hard work she and Helen had put in in terms of creating their pregnancy and now the flowers were in full bloom. The apples were now becoming ripe for the picking and surely that symbolized their life right now. Right now, she felt sleepy and lazy as the heat burned down on her. As the glare of the sun threatened to become too much for her, she turned her head sideways and saw Helen's bronzed face and her thick shades obscuring her eyes. Despite all that, she knew and felt the same sleepy affection emanate from her partner as she herself felt even if she hadn't been clued in by that affectionate smile spreading slowly and lazily across her face.

'Some say the world goes cray
It's summertime
I say I'm feeling lazy
Hammocks in mind
And I can't change a thing
He likes the sun........."

This snatch of a Tinita Tikeram song came into Nikki's mind as the music summed up her mood. The leisurely click and snap of the drums, the slieding base and the repetitive whiny guitar figure was framed by that husky, sultry knowing voice that sang like she spoke. It fitted her mood right now. More than ever, such a song made her luxuriate in simply letting go. It was that last thought that suddenly jabbed at her conscience to protest.

"Darling," Nikki started to say and then stopped.Something stopped her thought midway towards its articulation.

"There's something more on your mind than the love in your eyes," Helen replied in smoothly articulated tones. She knew her partner inside out. It wasn't the moments of exploring each other's psychies and their bodies that had sharpened her senses. It was the succession of externally arrived psychies that illuminated their naked natures that the constraints of institutional lives were at pains to camouflage.

"I err, all right Helen, it's that sometimes I get worried that I won't be the perfect mother," stumbled Nikki with a jerky delivery of what was clearly a deep-seated concern. In Helen's eyes, Nikki's occasional moments of bashfulness were sweetly endearing.

"Whereas?" Helen replied challengingly, looking her partner straight in her eye. Something prompted the dark haired woman to suddenly get to her feet. A bad move, she instantly thought as she felt dizzy and faint. Helen followed suit, knowing full well that wherever her partner was, so should she be.

"All right," confessed Nikki, the words surging out of her mouth after the internal mental block was swept away under pressure. "I know what a smartarse you are, babes. You'll be this blissful Madonna like figure glorying in the serenity expectant mothers go through. I'll be nervous and confused, pacing back and forth wondering just what a mother I'll be like. I mean, you'll be closer to the action than I'll be. From talking to Dad in the past, I really do sympathise what he went through. And guess what? After he'd done his duty in carrying on the family line, he gets that idiot of a brother. So he has a second shot at it and he ends up with the teenager from hell that I was."

Helen laughed openly at Nikki's rueful revisitation of her past. Her even teeth gleamed in the sunlight and somehow her laughter comforted the other woman.Besides, the depths of their communication was exemplified in each other's ability to accept laughter, if part directed at them. Each woman knew that it spoke the gentle truth.

"I just wonder how I'll cope. I'll worry that I won't be as I want to be."

There it was, out in the open at last, Helen thought. Feelings of tenderness overflowed, wanting to reassure her partner. From what she'd seen of the 'Mothercare' book in the local library, the biological mother was centre stage and her partner hardly got a look in.Helen's natural sense of justice revolted against such a one-sided view of life and as the stream of words cascaded outwards, so Nikki's self doubts spilled as to what kind of mother she'll be.Up till now, pursuing the IVF route had seemed like a combination of surmounting bureaucratic procedures as an abstraction without thought to the reality to come. Being pushed and prodded around in hospital was the concrete part of the deal which was simply the sort of things that happened in hospital, no more no less. Helen got the picture straightaway and folded her lover into her arms.

"Just relax darling.You're talking as if you're on your own. You're not. If we or all our friends haven't got the answer, perhaps your parents will have it, or the judge or someone out there.If there's an answer, we'll find it," Helen said into Nikki's ear with her peculiarly comforting and fiercely Scottish intonations. She felt Nikki nod her head as she clung weakly to her for support. For all that, Helen knew that this was only a temporary respite as it would take her partner a lot of time and soul searching to make those words feel real to her. Nikki might have partly accepted this intellectual proposition but this was only Nikki's first tentative steps in this direction. A journey awaited Nikki's presence which she was destined to walk.

"I'm thirsty as hell. Let's come inside and have something refreshing like a cup of tea for instance ," Helen vaguely urged, casting her mind around for something that would get them over that sudden sensation of dehydration. Helen slid her arm round her partner's waist to physically bond them together to their future. The feeling of closeness also helped draw them together compared to their time sundreaming while lying on their separate recliners, their thoughts in freeflow.besides, each woman helped prop the other up as they felt languid and drained from their hours of sunbathing. They lurched their way up the garden path.

Finally, Helen steered them into the kitchen when they were plunged into sudden darkness. In reality, their kitchen was as bright and cheerful as they had made it but it took time for their vision to adjust from the glaring bleached out sunblasted world outside.

"Jesus, where are we?"exclaimed the softly cultured voice into Helen's ear. The mild inconsequence of their temporary disorientation had wider resonances for them

"Where we were made to be babes. In our kitchen, on a sunny afternoon with all our future opening out before us," Helen replied in crisp, confident tones as she felt for the fridge door and the bottle of orange squash.

"That's where I thought we were. I'm glad that one of us knows where we are,"the tall, dark-haired woman answered in humorous tones. She reached for the top drawer and fished out two glasses and slid them onto the table top where Helen sloshed in a fair measure from the bottle and diluted the mixture down.

"God, I needed that," sighed Nikki gratefully as she gulped the liquid down. It was only now that she realised how thirsty she'd been and how she had needed that relief.
"Somehow, orange squash reminds me of picnics on sunny back lawns when I was a kid. That was in my childhood days when my only problems were how much of a jealous bastard my brother was."

As Helen had finished rubbing her eyes, she saw a dreamy look float into Nikki's eyes as her partner relived her past. It made the smaller woman feel good as she could see how lightly and easily Nikki accepted herself and everything that had formed her personality.

"When I first knew you, sweetheart, I thought you were some kind of inonoclast. What's interesting is how you've mellowed over the last few years."

Those sharply phrased words grabbed Nikki's interest immediately. No matter her own only partly resolved feelings, Nikki knew she had to drop everything and run with this one. A smile curved her lips as she lighted on a flurry of ideas swirling before her eyes. Familiar feeling of excited confidence spread through her system and a rush of tenderness for that very remarkable woman whose green eyes smiled on her with satisfaction.

"You really are so amazing, darling. I've never met anyone who really gets me like you do......" the dark-haired woman said softly, the light of love in her eyes. At moments like this, the tender-hearted woman's feelings overflowed in all directions and Helen gladly surrendered to this emotional backwash.

"You tell me where you're heading and I'll be with you," the smaller woman said softly, looping her arm round Nikki's neck with one arm and knocking back her orange with the other. Her own thirst was raging and she desperately needed to be satisfied.

"I still feel that sense freshness of discovery just the same as when I was a kid. My best friend used to dare me go out the back door, set foot out into the snowdrifts and go where no woman had trodden before. As I got older, the same thing happened with new ideas," Nikki said dreamily. Despite the intense heat, somehow Nikki's vivid imagination was already taking flight as only she could.

"So just how would you let our child find out the world for herself? Just how comfortable are you with rules that might protect her from what's dangerous. Do you have any rules for yourself?" Helen pursued, her eyes fixing her lover's eyes with hers.

"Jesus, you know how to ask hard questions," Nikki said ruefully as her eyes slipped away to look for a packet of cigarettes and lighter in the drawer.She needed to light up to help think her way through this. Normally, she couldn't keep her eyes off her lover's shapely curves

"I learned it from the ultimate mistress of hard questioning and self examination," Helen teased. "Even now, you probably don't quite know the way you rocked me to my foundations when I realised that you were something more than a 'great ally.'"

Nikki grinned in assent to this very sharp-minded Scot who had learned very quickly to pick up on the unsaid word. It amused Nikki that they were to embark on a deeply philosophical debate which oughtn't to coincide with their state of relative undress.

"I hold my hands up to every back handed compliment you've paid me but let's get back to business. I guess that talking to my parents these days has mellowed me out. The most important thing is that they accept me for who I am and I accept them. They're less uptight than they used to be and in those days, even if I secretly thought that they might occasionally be right, I never let it show. Teenage hormones have a lot to answer for, I guess."

"So where does that leave us?" Helen questioned.

"What always got my back up is the authority figure who preaches platitudes, rules and regulations with no thought of why things should be so. All my life, I've questioned why things should be.....and I've been slapped down for it. Bodybag wasn't the first to try that on only by then I'd long since learned to be quick on the draw, verbally speaking. She was easy meat to make look stupid."

"Isn't the trouble that we're going to come up with something more positive than simply rejecting authority?", came that persistent voice, pressing Nikki to sharpen up on her thinking.

"The truth of the matter is that I'm not an anarchist," Nikki said slowly and thoughtfully, letting out a stream of cigarette smoke. "I'd want our child to be well grounded in values that she. or he, can relate to. I'd want the product of our love to grow up thinking that we live the way we talk, there is no dishonesty or hipocricy in our world. Hopefully, she or he won't grow up screwed up by the world but learn to survive the craziness out there. And of course, we should bring so much love to our child. That is so important. I can see now that my parents don't approve of everyything that we do but their love for us is unconditional. Let's face it, if we can heal the wounds of twenty years of non communication and emotional upset, there's hope in the unlikeliest of situations.At least that's the theory of it. How it'll work out in practice is anyone's guess," finished Nikki on a shaky note.

"You're making perfect sense, darling. I needed to hear it come from your lips. On my own, I'd come up with more questions than answers."

"You mean you've had your doubts? I thought I was the nervous one," questioned Nikki, in that open mouthed way of hers that Helen found endearing. Suddenly, the here and now came back to the smaller woman as desires suddenly started flooding through her system.

"Of courseI have, darling. Being pregnant doesn't happen to me every day. Of course I've been worried. Come with me and we'll lie down together."

"But....,"interjected Nikki, a lurking doubt rising straight up from her unconscious. Helen placed her forefinger across the taller woman's lips.

"Just relax, sweetheart. I've done a little research on this topic.I know what we're doing. It's perfectly safe."

That sultry tone had its tonic effect on the taller woman together with the light touch of ironic reversal. It banished the slight reservation in Nikki's mind as to their sex life while Helen was pregnant. This part of her present was one she could deal with so easily. She felt both loving and confident as Helen took her gently by the hand and led them to their bedroom.



As the two women lay down together, their breathing returning to normal, Nikki felt blissfully content that their sharply changing reality could be dealt with. She knew that her lover's belly would expand with the coming of time. A wave of protective emotion suffused her system as she knew that she would be incredibly protective of her woman and any recurring doubts could be dealt with. It wouldn't take that much time to pass for her to live up to her big words. Somehow those cockeyed words made sense, certainly more so than her fears which had been running round and round in circles like a mouse on a turnstyle at the back of her mind.


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



Scene Three


In another part of London, life was more conjectural. What remained unspoken between John and Jo was whether or when they would move in together and if so where to. They were both haunted by far too many painful memories of hurt feelings, bitter accusations, feelings of guilt over infidelities and, in general, too much emotional baggage. The current bright and breezy relationship theory that floated around the chattering classes was to put bad things behind them, make a fresh start and make a conscious effort to change the way you behave. Both John and Jo considered it wasn't as easy as all that.

Jo Mills knew that she had become far too used to her own space since her husband had died many years ago when her sons were little. She had always lived in her neat brick built terraced house except for the brief spell when she had let her house and had worked up North. Surprisingly, her erratic relationship over the years with John had never included much normal interactions that took place between couples no matter their closeness of attitudes on legal matters. On personal matters, they were as much inclined to clash as to agree with each other.Then again, Jo could never forget that John was once her pupilmaster for the period he was teaching at Law School in Holborn and even at her exalted position of barrister, still felt herself in John's shadow.

During her on / off affair with John, she had learnt by bitter experience not to let him fully into her life even if she did the same with her body. That was her choice and one that she had learned to regret time and time again. It would take time to wear down those deep seated anxieties and both of them knew it.

The easy element of the decision to resolve was that both ruled out the possibility for both of them living in the digs. Although Monty Everard and his wife Vera nominally lived there together, the establishment exuded batcherhood from every pore.

After the night that John had stayed over, both of them felt that they were getting there after all these years but they had a long way to go and shouldn't rush things. Both of them knew that they had been through this movie before. Just at the point when they had felt that they were starting to get somewhere, along came some upset that ruptured what they'd started to build up. Not least of such occasions was when John had slept with the female therapist who he'd engaged to work through why he couldn't commit himself to Jo Mills full time. Even if forgiveness for everything that had gone wrong between them could be achieved, they both knew that forgetting was quite a different matter.


*********


Helen knew that Nikki needed to work further on her feelings of uncertainty and that she was searching for reassurance elsewhere. Her restless manner told Hrelen everything she wanted to know and finally, the smaller woman broached the topic directly.

"You surely don't think I'd expect that one evening's conversation has dealt with all your nervousness about us having a baby together."

There it was, Helen's most searching gaze was penetrating her very being. Jesus, Nikki thought to herself, I was the one who long ago got her to open up and let it all hang out.She peered out beneath the shade of her long lashes and finally latched onto that reassuring smile on her face. Suddenly, she exhaled all the pent-up tension within her and the words formulated themselves as she'd always trusted herself to do so.

"Darling, you did your very best to reassure me but I just think I need some external input, someone whose life experiences aren't bound up with ours."

"You mean John. You are assuming that talking to him won't wake up biological paternal feelings that he might have been suppressing?"

Helen's warning words hit Nikki like a hammer blow. The thought had never crossed her mind. She thought over Helen's words with extreme care.

"He's given us his word.Anyway, he's got Charlie and I don't think that he'd want to get back into a phase of his life when he's only now just settling down with Jo.He wants his freedom too much."

Nikki's stumbling words drew a broad smile from her partner. Somehow, she's managed to reassure her partner's own worries. Most of all, they knew that the judge's word was sacrosanct, something that could be taken to the highest bank or court in the land.

"You've convinced me. I was only acting as devil's advocate. OK,you go and have a good talk with John. Let's face it, for all our circle of friends, we're rather short of parent models," Helen replied in her sprightliest tones.

"You're sure you don't mind, darling.After all, it's your baby as well."?" Nikki called back anxiously."

"You forget that the biological clock has started ticking. Later on, I'm sure I'll need all the hand-holding that you can give me but that's another day. Besides, I've got a date with clearing out the spare room and slapping a lick of paint on the walls for our baby. This is me having a creative splurge. You go and talk to John. I'm sure he'll be only too willing to advise."



John was settling down to a comfortable evening in when his mobile bleeped and to his surprise, an obviously nervous Nikki Wade was seeking his advice. He used all the power of conviction in his voice to put his friend at her ease, and made the necessary arrangements with the butler who still couldn't get it into his head that an attractive female guest for John Deed was entirely innocent.

"Ah, Nikki, take a seat and join us for dinner. They do an excellent vegetarian meal."

Nikki hadn't been expecting this hospitality but her natural reticence was overcome by the two judges' natural warmth of manner as John waved her in. Monty had obviously remembered the occasion when they had done some serious drinking together so she politely took her seat at the long oak table, spread with the formal white tablecloth.The whole situation was most curiously reminiscent of when she and her family used to visit various aunts and uncles scattered around the Home Counties and she encountered these very male, pipe-smoking uncles. This time around, she felt enormously comfortable round their idiosyncracies as, above all else, she wasn't the little child as she was then.

She ate the surprisingly tasty meal and engaged in polite chit chat until John politely introduced the reason for her visit. Nikki looked sideways at Monty as she wasn't certain just how liberal his views were in this delicate area. Monty picked up his friend's train of thought and knew that he was being called for to offer his deliberations.

"You must know how old fashioned I am, Nikki, and it is quite beyond me just how two women can have a baby together but that's a very minor detail in the great scheme of things. You don't need our approval but I can see you and Helen making really excellent parents," he pronounced.

"Why thank you," Nikki said, colouring slightly at the very welcome ego boost when she needed it most. "I'm glad we have your confidence. It's more than I feel right now," confessed Nikki nervously.

"Both of us might be able to help you in terms of what we've done right but also what we've both done wrong," Monty said with a meaning look which made Nikki warm to these two very kindly older men. "You could learn from our mistakes. You might not know but I have a son who lives abroad in Africa. I don't see him very much except when he comes to tap me for money though I don't want to bore you with my troubles."

For the first time, Nikki was permitted a background peek behind the man's gruff exterior and was saddened by the sense of desolation. She was also flattered that he bestowed this confidence on her. She was beginning to learn that this man lived a world away from her friends at Chix who would easily share their misfortunes so that some sororial bonding would make them feel better. She sensed that this man bore misfortunes on his own except for sharing them with John in rare moments of intimacy.

"You can if you want to but you don't have to," Nikki replied in her tenderest, softest tone of voice.

"Anyway, back to business. You must understand that those were different times when John and I became fathers. It was taken for granted that our priorities were advancing our careers, marrying well, having a nice house and producing offspring were expected of us apart from mending the odd fuse and being responsible for the family car. I can remember being relegated to the sidelines while a gaggle of female relatives, mainly hers, did all the fussing and flapping around. Vera hired a nanny who did the real hard work and looking back on it, this was a first class way of making sure I never bonded with my son. I don't suppose any of this is the slightest use, Nikki. Perhaps John with his more progressive outlook might be of more assistance," Monty concluded, his voice tailing off as he sensed that his experiences were a mile away from what his friend would be going through.

"I get the feeling that my dad went through all that," Nikki said reflectively, feeling this older man's sense of alienation.

"You were of course, the perfect father,"joked Monty. "It explains why Charlie lived most of her life with you."

"I know I have that reputation but I remember very well when George told me the news. My first thought was 'My God, what have I done?' I was confident enough in my sense of application to become a successful barrister but I never thought I'd had the sense of responsibility to become a solid family man. I was scared to death that this strange creature would come into my world and dominate my life. I also had George to contend with as she blamed me for conspiring to set back her career with sneaky underhand means.....George was different to as she was intensely ambitious and didn't know what she'd let herself in for.I know she's different now and, now she's with Alice, a lot of her defences have come down and she's a far nicer woman than she used to be."

"So what happened when you saw Charlie for the first time?" Nikki gently asked, very touched by John's generosity of spirit to George.

"I can't describe the feeling I had when I saw that tiny scrap of humanity with her big blue eyes and tiny fingers.I felt incredibly protective of her from the word go though it hasn't stopped her turning my hair grey from the scrapes she's got into with her Animal Liberation activities. The point I'm getting at is that I suspect that bonding doesn't take place due to some mystical process between mother and child that leaves the parent who doesn't give birth left on the sidelines.It doesn't have to be that way, I assure you."

Nikki saw the dreamy look on John's face as he was reliving his past, not so much recounting it. His discourse was right on the beam as always.

"Thank you John," Nikki said a little breathlessly, overwhelmed by the force of the liberating ideas that swept through her. "You're either very lucky or talented or both," Her admiration for John increased as the man unveiled a talent she hadn't suspected in him.

"I think it was luck. If I have a gift, I certainly don't know where it came from," chuckled John self-deprecatingly. "You ought to know that George had problems in bonding with Charlie right from the very beginning. I'm not breaking any confidences as George would be the first to admit her feelings but it is only now that a sense of sympathy and understanding is building up between them. I'm glad for it as the distance between them always distressed me, the way she used to call George the 'ice maiden.' She may have come over that way as George never used to show her feelings and was once the convenient hired legal gun of the establishment. You didn't know her as she used to be or did you?"

"I remember," Nikki replied as her memory served her well. "The first time I saw George right after my reappeal and I got involved with George, that Haughton guy and Sir Ian when they were slagging you off. I remember crossing swords with her. She did come across as hard and unfeeling and, worst of all, definitely on the wrong side. Somehow, somewhere along the line she ended up representing Sally Anne Howe and crossing over the line in more ways than one."

Both John and Monty grinned at Nikki's cryptic allusion and warmed to the thought that, between them, their remarkable friend was becoming more relaxed about the idea of being a parent. They knew that, while it was obvious that Nikki would make a good parent, her profound misgivings would take a lot of working through. In turn, Nikki realised that, unknown to herself, she'd internalised a lot of ideas that, once brought out into the light of day, needed to be challenged and tested like any other idea.As they sat at the dining table, sunlight shone brightly through the windows of the digs. The three of them had that feeling of easy intimacy when time was suspended. They were after all, living lives in past and present, drawing the first lines in sketching out the problematic future.


In the meantime, Helen was having a whale of a time.She'd changed into loose dungarees and an old sweatshirt and fastened a scarf round her hair. She'd chucked out into the large dustbin a lot of superfluous junk which they'd stashed in a moment of indecision. Once she'd reduced the contents of the spare room to the minimum, she cleaned and washed down the walls. Next she lugged out the paintpots and brushes and set to work in painting the room in bold, bright colours with childlike shapes and splodges. She was happy enough working away as this was going to be her creation. She wasn't worried what Nikki might think when she'd finally returned from her visit to John as her partner would instantly see this as a demonstration of positivity and be duly inspired.
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ali baba
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Is Scene 2 missing? :o
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richard
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Thanks for that one, ali baba. Comes of posting while tired after delivering a whole load of cuttings to the tip. I've inserted scene 2 seeing as scene 3 has been posted.
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richard
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Scene Four


George was very well aware of the powerful nurturing instincts of her partner. She admired the way that, day in day out, Alice would drive into the grim decaying council estates and immerse herself in the hopeless social problems that came with poverty and social deprivation. She knew how to maintain that companionable silence when Alice rattled away on her PC the details of records that Alice was obliged to keep. She was tolerant of the occasions when Alice rceived phone calls in the evening that caused intense discussions. In that way, she gradually learned to absorb the feel of the human tragedies that were the bread and butter of Alice's daytime job.It did not make for comfortable listening, and it aroused ill-defined feelings of guilt that she had problems in dealing with.

Finally, the way that Alice looked away into the distance through the dining room windows one evening prompted George to speak the thoughts that had been going round in her head.

"So, in comparison with the lives that you enter, I really have a privileged and protected upbringing." she said out of nowhere from their companionable silence. As if for the first time in her life, she took in the painting above the fireplace, the carved mahogany table and dining room chairs that her father had given her.The dark-haired woman turned her face to look quizzickly back at her partner and away from her own thoughts. She was mentally listing fors and against why the two children whose welfare most concerned her should be taken into care.

"Believe me darling, anyone who slaves away in a dead end job, pays the bills,provides for their partner and children and imparts some sense of self belief that they'll struggle through come what may could be said to be privileged," Alice said in bleak tones.

"I don't know whether or not to be reassured by your words," George said in artificial tones that clearly betrayed her sense of uncertainty to her partner.

"Believe me, you have nothing to feel guilty about," Alice replied, her face brightening. She turned round to kiss George on her lips and draped her arms round the blond haired woman's shoulders. "Why do you think I was attracted to you in the first place?"

"Tell me darling. Don't worry about the dangers of boring me to death," George replied, her voice arching up and down the scale in her most seductive fashion. Her appearance of narcissism was at least,three quarters pretence and amusing affectation.

"I have an unashamed weakness for out and out posh and you are, and you know it, totally gorgeous. When I got to know you, I really found someone incredible I could fall in love with and I'm always intrigued by your hidden depths. That blows my street credibility out of the water and I don't give a shit," she finished in defiant tones.

"Street credibility," mused George as she gently stroked her lover's long black hair as it flowed down her back."As soon as I first heard that expression, I was immediately suspicious. I never felt judged by it in any way, not then and not even now when I have become more liberal in my views."

"It's what you do with your life that matters, George," Alice said, gently ruffling her lover's hair."Of course you were born into the Channing family and everything that goes with it. You single-mindedly pursued your career and your family. I know very well that you effectively worked for the government and made a lot of money out of it but I know that you pick cases now because they are morally right."

"I suppose I do pay my share of moral dues and demands these days. The legal aid system eventually pays my bills while I make my money out of civil cases. It's what I'm good at and I'd hate to limit myself to crusading full time,"George replied in deliberate tones, flashing a quick smile on her face.Alice knew very well how warm-hearted her lover was but became hideously embarrassed if anyone ascribed sainthood to her.

"I know more than anything else that words can be cheap but actions cannot lie.You never profess yourself to be more than who you are."

George smiled graciously at the satisfactorily oblique yet very profound compliment. Alice felt privileged to get the full force of her lover's sincerity.

"I'll treasure your words always. While we're talking about ourselves and the world around us, There's something that's always intrigued me and that is the way you feel so much for the unfortunates you come across in your life. I know that I'm starting from a position of complete ignorance but do you find that the families you deal with are that way because it's what and where they were born into? Some of your stories sound fearfully bleak and depressing but I suppose that it reminds me there's another world out there. I admire your sense of persevereance and wonder how you have the inspiration to carry on. In my field, I have at an even chance in getting a fair deal for my client. "

"I guess I'm a hopeless romantic," Alice said at last after slowly mulling over the delicately implied question. As she had spent all her life doing the caring in on guise or another, this was the first time she'd been asked this question. The obviously needy people wanted her as Lady Bountiful and, in her relationships, other people's problems had predominated. Finally, she started off across the verbal highwire, slowly feeling her way. "I see the good in all people who are struggling even if they are acting in dysfunctional ways and even if they act selfishly and destructively.On that lower level of existence, it happens.I want to nurture them, make them better.I think I have the ability to do that,"

"Has that ever intruded into your personal life?" George asked gently. She knew the answer already, remembering Alice talking of her ex-lover, Becky.

Alice turned white with shock. It crossed her mind that a partner whose stock in trade was nosing out the truth would be one from whom secrets couldn't be kept. It made her feel uncomfortable and sweaty inside.

"I know what you're getting at. If you must know, Becky had attached herself as a friend of one of my clients. She was the sparkly, lively one while her friend was a chronic depressive single parent and she kept the children entertained. I really was impressed and charmed by her and thought we had something in common and that's how come I got drawn into her world. I really cared for her and that was half the trouble. It was only when we started dating that I saw the other side of her and realised she had a clinical bipolar condition. She would be so great if only she could be helped with her condition and I was the one to do it.It got to be an addiction. Anyway, I'm well over her and away from her,"Alice said jerkily looking away from George. "I won't make that same mistake again."

"Darling, I'm really sorry. I did have Becky at the back of my mind when I asked you that question and made the foolish mistake of thinking that it happened a long time ago. I didn't realise that it still hurts you."

"Sometimes, an addiction can be harder to break than you think,"whispered Alice into George's neck as the two women wound themselves tightly round each other.


Alice was in a state of indecision while the busy sounds of her office were all around her but she was isolated into a different zone. The letter that had been pushed through her letter box was clutched in her hand

"Alice darling,

I beg you on my bended knees to come over and see me as I'm totally desolate and distraught. Everything in my life is going wrong and only you know how to heal me, to point me on the right path. Only you and I know how much we have in common, how much we shared. I long for the sound of your sweet voice, your kind and generous nature.

You might ask why I've written to you after all this time and the simple truth is that false pride has kept me apart but now I know better. You know now what we mean to each other.

You and I are destined to be together. Please phone me up. I am dying to hear from you, if only for five seconds.

Yours forever

Becky"

She knew what she must do. After all, it was only a quick visit on her way home after her last official client. She was drawn to her destiny.



It was ten thirty at night and George's living room was steeped in gloom except for a sidelight which cast a circular glow as far as the writing desk in the corner of the room. Upon its folded out flap was a ripped open envelope and a crumpled letter which George had lighted on when she had come home from work. Finally, George heard the key turn in the lock and hesitant footsteps approach her.

"Don't tell me, Alice. I know where you've been," called out a very acid voice from out of the gloom. Suddenly, the main lights were switched on with a blinding glare and there was a very discomforted Alice trapped there under George's steely gaze. The first few buttons of her shirt were unbuttoned and her hair was dishevelled. George felt sick to the pit of her stomach.

"George darling, I must explain myself. I know it looks bad but........"

"So you were just out on a last minute call and would be a bit late. How very inconvenienced you must have been to You'd better stick in an overtime claim from your employer."

"All right, it was Becky. I must have been mad to call round. Please let me explain. It'll never happen again."

"I don't want to hear the sordid details," shouted George, as ancient nightmares of past infidelities committed against her came tearing through her psyche, ripping it apart. "I want time and space to work out where the hell I am. You can't even begin to know that."

Alice burst into tears but George appeared to have hardened her heart, if only to preserve her from further hurt. She could imagine the details all too easily.

"There's an overcooked casserole in the oven," George said in a lower tone of voice which was surly and ungracious. It suggested the minimum amount of care and a disinclination to see her culinary work wasted. The taste of it did not make Alice feel better in the way it normally did. Her stomach felt so churned up that she could barely swallow it.


That night as they lay in bed together, George turned her shoulder away from Alice so that none of her body rested against the dark-haired woman. There was no goodnight kiss either. It felt as if there was a chasm between them a mile deep and a mile wide that couldn't be crossed. Alice felt desolate that after coming back to the imagined safety and security of her present world, things were no better than before.


********

There was a timid knock on the door that neither Helen nor Nikki could place in the evening of their first Monday back at work. Even on his initially nervous first visit , John used to sound louder than that. Two sets of raised eyebrows caused Nikki to take long strides to the front door and, sweeping open the heavy front door, an obviously miserable Alice stumbled in. Her appearance shocked them as Alice had unkempt hair and she'd obviously been crying recently. George and Alice had been such a solid twosome for so long.

"Jesus, what's happened?" exclaimed Nikki in alarm, taking Alice into her arms.They made their way through to the living room where Helen's face clouded with concern.Nikki immediately poured a third cup of tea from the pot and smiled faintly to see her resort to the time honoured Brit solution for trials and tribulations. Alice drank greedily at the brown lukewarm mixture and lay back in the armchair with her eyes closed for a few minutes. It was the first time she felt safe and secure for a frighteningly long twenty-four hours. It was only after a little while that she brushed her hair briefly and so Helen judged it the right time to talk.

"You don't have to tell us what on earth has happened but it might help. We're your friends, after all."

These kind words let loose a flood of tears while Helen put her arm round their friend's shoulders. Nikki sat there aghast. After all, it was Alice who gave soothing, comforting , level-headed advice at Chix.Finally, she talked and both her friends rapidly assimilated what was confessed to them.It was all too believable and it was obvious how Alice was perilously placed.

"You'll forgive me Alice if I'm straight with you on this," began Nikki, waiting for the response. It came immediately.

"Whatever you say will be fine. I need something, someone to ground me to reality. If I've messed up, I've messed up."

"Bigtime," answered Helen, stealing one of Nikki's favourite expressions from under her very nose. "I remember realising very late in the day, that Sean was a total control freak but who could press all the right buttons to make me feel that I was the villain of the peace.That's what happened when I broke up with him.Becky's no different except from dominating in a different way, the helpless waif and stray and then screaming a guilt trip at you."

"I feel totally stupid. I should have known better but I should have been stronger with her. Hell, I don't know what to feel anymore," Alice said in a state of rambling incoherence. All manner of conflicting emotions were exploding inside of her. She couldn't make sense of her situation for the life of her."

."Alice, look in my eyes and listen," Nikki said in firm but sympathetic tones, placing finger and thumb either side of her friend's chin to ensure eye contact. She was leaving nothing to chance. "There are some people around that have the knack of hitting your vulnerabilities. If you really think that you're not emotionally safe with them within five miles of you, well that's the way it has to be. It's no dishonour admitting to that."

"If I had a toss up between an exciting demon lover and a woman who truly respects me, who loved me for who I am, someone I can rely on, the second comes first by a million miles. There's nothing that eats up relationships alive than lack of trust,"Helen pronounced very gently, articulating every word clearly.

"Helen makes messing around in my slippers, cup of tea on the side sound really attractive,"commented Nikki drily which raised a faint smile from Alice for the first time for a long time. "Seriously enough, it means that our relationship is for real, and we're both here for the long haul. What you describe sounds like a dangerous illusion, believe me."

Just as Alice was starting to feel less desolate and cold inside, Helen's mobile started bleeping. Helen saw the number, smiled to herself and waited for the roll of the dice to see what manifestation of their friend would make herself present in Helen's ear.
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GG72
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Can't wait for the next one. :tumbup
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richard
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[/B]Hi GG72- thanks for your response to this cliff hanger. This next scene will I hope, come up to scratch. Enjoy


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


Scene Five


"George. How lovely it is to hear from you,"exclaimed Helen with unfeigned pleasure. "We don't see enough of you- or Alice for that matter."

"It's about Alice that I wanted to talk to you about. We've had a bit of a bust-up a few days ago and she hasn't come home. I'm seriously worried about her."

Helen opened her mouth but the words didn't come out. She was in a real dilemma as to whether to lie to George and pretend that Alice wasn't sitting in her armchair as Alice looked obviously scared or to tell the truth and force Alice's hand. Both had advantages and disadvantages.

"You've got to talk to her. You know you have to, sooner or later," Nikki said, keeping her voice low so that George's sharp hearing couldn't pick out. She could pick out her partner's train of thought from long practice.

"All right Helen. Tell her I'm here."

"By a strange coincidence, Alice has fetched up here. You know that our flat is a natural drop in point for waifs and strays, John included."

On the other end of the phone, George breathed a deep sigh of relief. She knew that she'd been beastly to Alice over the last couple of days and the rage in her system was taking a few days to subside. She knew above all else that she had to confront whatever may or may not have been going on. The sneaking suspicion was growing inside her that Alice was about to tell her what happened only she'd cut her off short. She was beginning to suspect that she'd reacted the same way to her as she had to John years ago when he came out with yet another smooth story to cover up his infidelities. Nevertheless, she didn't want to let her guard down by more than a fraction as whatever had happened had incriminated Alice to some extent or why else should she come in in such a state and so late an hour. Gritting her teeth, she made her decision.

"All right. I know that Alice is in the safest possible hands. Can you ask her if she's OK if I come over and meet her at your place?"

"All right," called out Alice nervously at Helen as Nikki directed one of her sharp looks at her. Both judged independently not to ask Alice if she wanted to talk to George on the phone. Both knew how formidable George was and thought they'd be pushing their luck for something that wasn't strictly necessary.

"By all means, George. We'll take care of everything till you come," Helen answered, making her voice sound as firm and reassuring as possible as she could.

"I know you both will," George replied, her natural warmth of mannr flowing out on the airwaves. If there was anything she felt certain of that moment, it was that cast-iron promise. She knew that her friends would be invaluable. "Right then, I'll be over straightaway."

"Take care," Helen said affectionately, not pressing George further as to her intentions when she arrived. Whatever it was, she and Nikki could deal with it.


"What did George say about me?" Alice said breathlessly as soon as Helen clicked the phone off. "Come on, you've got to tell me, either good or bad. I want to hear it."

"As a matter of fact, she didn't say anything and you can't expect her to," Helen said in gentle but firm tones. "You forget, she's completely in the dark about what happened. The real danger she faces is an overactive imagination and sod all to go on."

"George is a barrister," weighed in Nikki in persuasive tones when she spotted the gap left in Helen's reasonings. "She only draws conclusions when she amasses all the facts."

"What about the letter she saw? That's pretty incriminating," Alice said in jerky tones, hyperventilation at the thought of what George must be thinking.

"Until George comes, you must learn to relax, place yourself in our hands," Helen's soothing tones. "We'll look after you."

Alice nodded her head, unable to speak. She hadn't felt as helpless and frightened for a long time. She was a little child again which all her years of professional work and her extra-curricular work with lovers and friends had denied to herself. She accepted another cup of tea from her friends which was unusual for her, being a hardened black coffee drinker.

Finally, there was a smart rap on the door and Alice jumped in her skin. Helen held her hand protectively, fixing Alice's eyes with hers while Nikki headed for the door. The moments hung agonisingly in suspension.

Finally, Alice became aware of George's presence from the perfume that had entered the room. She dared not look up. Unknown to her, George was placed in an acute dilemma. What on earth was she to say to the woman who might be her lover or alternatively her betrayer. It was unusual for her to be so indecisive.

"Hi Alice," George said in formal tones which ludicrously understated the confusion of her feelings. "You might have let me know where you'd gone. I've been a bit worried about you."

"Helen and Nikki have been looking after me," said Alice in a small voice, not daring to look upwards at the familiar voice. "I'm sorry."

"I think we need to talk," George finally said after taking in a deep breath of air and biting the bullet. Whatever the truth was, she must hear it and there was no time like the present. "Is there somewhere for me to sit down. I hardly think that this is an occasion to stand on ceremony."

"I'll get one," Nikki instantly replied, giving full marks to George for the mature way she was reacting. George took her place on the chair, directly facing Alice while Nikki and Helen occupied the sofa. The two women looked uncertainly at each other, wondering who should make the first move and what should be said. Fortunately, George intercepted the looks and stepped up to the mark, speaking firmly and clearly.

"Alice, I've been thinking over what I've said to you. You need to explain what happened that night.I realise that I know nothing and that I've subjected you to some of the verbal GBH that John was on the receiving end of."

"That's not unreasonable," Nikki intervened in her softest tones. She couldn't make eye contact so she prayed for the power of the spoken word. It had its effect as Alice finally ran her tongue along her lower lip and looked upwards for the first time since George had entered the room. She knew at last that George really wanted to know and her mind wouldn't be set at rest until she knew what had happened. It was only now that she was starting to make sense of the craziness of the last few days, having talked it over to her friends.

"All right, I'll tell you all exactly what happened," Alice said, clearly agitated in manner to George's sharp eye.

"You want us to go?" offered Nikki, guessing that the crowd scene might be putting pressure on their friend, three pairs of eyes being turned in judgment on her.

"Please stay, both of you. Both of you keep me grounded right now. It's myself that I'm afraid of," came the definite reply, with an undertone of blind panic.It was clear to her and Helen that Alice was more afraid of being alone with George than the reverse.

"I got the letter a couple of days ago when I was working at home for the morning. God knows how it happened that both of us weren't out. I opened the letter as you see it and, fool that I am, I didn't either rip it up or show it to George, don't ask me why. It was exactly as if I were an alcoholic and I'd drunk orange juice that was spiked. I had this curiosity itching at me to wonder what Becky had done with her life. I was looking back on the past with rose tinted spectacles and my memory cut out all the crap she'd laid on me. You might almost say that I had an overdose of compassion for her- strictly as a friend. It all sounds a load of rubbish, I know," Alice tailed off, her face twisting with embarrassment. She smiled gratefully at Nikki who placed a glass of orange in her hand and swallowed a mouthful.

"Wait a minute, you don't think she was stalking you?" Helen gently interposed. She'd been dying to ask that question but held back until Alice herself chose when to pause.

"Jesus, I never thought of that,"Alice replied, her mind awakening to the chance to see things for herself. "Thinking about it, I think you're right. God what a fool I've been."

"It's happened to others. Fenner did that to Karen, remember. Anyway, we're interrupting."

"You can see now why I jumped a mile when you mentioned Becky's name the other day. Once I'd started not being open with you, I carried on perpetuating the same mistake, especially as we were talking about my persona of being Ms Aware Social Worker. It's a lame reason for not confessing all but my subconscious didn't want me looking stupid to myself....."

"We've all been there before sometime," Nikki added, Alice kept looking low, darting odd glances at George whose silence was making her feel nervous. She was sitting on a dining room chair, her knees drawn together and leaning forward while Alice occupied the large,soft sprung armchair.

"I called round at the end of the day's work when I felt at my most competent and professional and the minute I stepped through her front door, I went into her living room. All kinds of rubbish was strewn everywhere and she looked ghastly. Immediately I started feeling sorry for her and assumed that everything that had happened was someone else's fault. She immediately started talking about having been sexually assaulted by a man she worked with and gave me blow by blow, dramatic moment by dramatic moment of her feelings and I accepted implicitly everything she said."

"What was she like, I mean compared to me?"George asked quietly out of nowhere. Alice jumped in her chair but Helen stroked her hand to comfort her.

"When she's down but not absolutely depressed, she's the kind of woman who pours out self-awareness in a stream of words. When she's right down, she doesn't talk so it's up to you to bring her out of herself. When she's on the way up, she's marvellously witty so you end up going on the town and to hell with responsibilities. When she's much further up, she goes into a rage if you have the slightest reservation with her plans. Once you get on the roller coaster, you never get off."

"So you ended up talking for hours and naturally, Becky being ever so considerate doesn't think you have someplace else to be.I've seen her operate, remember," Nikki added acidly.

"Apart from cleaning her up a bit, making a cup of tea for her after which she got out a bottle of wine. We were going to have a party, it had all been arranged.She told me that we ought to be spontaneous, that's the way she put it."

Nikki resisted the temptation to make an acid crack about the word 'spontaneous.' The whole thing stuck in her throat and made her very angry. She could see the whole thing unfold as if she were watching this on the silver screen. She was thankful that she wasn't left alone with her or she would have done something physical, seeing the damage that this woman's machinations had done to two dear friends of hers.

"I sat on the settee with her and drank some wine with her. She said that this felt like the old days and didn't this feel nostalgic. Her head started to lean against my shoulder and she started talking in an appealing, little girl tone of voice. It was then that I knew for certain that she was trying to seduce me, trying to unbuttom my shirt. I found that she wouldn't let go of my hand, that she was trying to kiss me...."

Out of the corner of her eye, Helen felt George flinch. This was the bit she had been dreading. Alice had managed to summon up all her strength to maintain a level tone of voice but she stumpled to a halt.

".......It was the smell of alcohol on her breath that did it. I switched on my Social Worker hat and I knew rightaway she had an alcohol problem," Alice continued, somehow picking up the thread of her story. "I realised right then how close she came to drawing me back into her world that I thought of George and I thought of all of you at Chix.I told her that I had a partner and I ought to be getting back home when she immediately turned on me. She started shouting at me, blaming me for everything. I got up, grabbed my handbag and made a desperate run for the front door and was just in time to get out and starting running up the road, anywhere to get away from her. It was dark and spitting down with rain. I only stopped when I got out of breath. I was leaning against a lamppost and took ages to catch my breath. By some miracle, I found my car keys and sneaked down the road to get to my car. My heart was in my mouth as I swear to God I thought she'd sneak up behind me. Eventually, I started the engine and drove like a bat out of hell. I stopped at a service station where I cleaned myself up a bit and let myself in. George surprised me and drew very understandable conclusions.......".

"You poor thing,"George said in her most melting affectionate tone of voice. “I feel so sorry for you."

With that, she rushed over to Alice and buried her face in Alice's neck, fingers stroking her hair. Alice lay back in the depths of the armchair, feeling weak and drained while Nikki and Helen looked on fondly. She couldn't believe her incredible luck though the tangible feel of her beautiful blond lover lying on top of her was doing its best to reassure her . George was passionately kissing her neck, her cheek and finally found her rightful place inside Alice's mouth.Her tongue eagerly caressed George's. It had felt so long since they'd made contact. It wasn't until an outrageously long period of time had elapsed when George finally turned herself away from the endless attractions of Alice's face. Even then, she curled herself round her lover, her arm curved around Alice's neck.

"Well, we have a lot of making up to do. I bet you my finest bottle of champagne that you two have been beavering away at Alice to do just that?" George said impishly while a blissful smile was spread across Alice's face and strong feelings of desire were welling up in her. Alice's hand linked itself with George's free hand, their fingers delicately stroking each others.

"George, have you ever lost an argument in your entire life?" questioned Nikki, a broad smile curving round her lips, obviously happy for her friends.

"No never," retorted George impudently before a thought struck her. "Well, I did once, the first time I ever met you after your second appeal. Remember?"

"I suppose I did though it might be pure luck or I was on particularly good form that day," Nikki said in those self-deprecating tones that so endeared itself to her friends.

"I suppose you'll be off home now though you're welcome to stop a little while longer," Helen offered politely though she knew the answer. The sexual desire that radiated from the armchair could be felt a mile away.

"Any other time but right now, I want to go home and ravish this woman of mine and I suspect that Alice feels the same, don't you darling?"

As the two women were walking along to the front door, a thought struck the blond haired woman.

"You didn't drive over here, Alice darling?" George called out anxiously as a sudden thought struck her.

"I came over by taxi," Alice said in her reassuring tones much to George's relief. The audible sigh and the blissful smile on her face said everything as Alice's head leaned into George's, her arm encircling the blond woman's waist.

"Thank God for that. The only problem there is in keeping my hands off you till we get home," George called out loudly for the whole wirld to hear which made Nikki and Helen grin affectionately at her. Alice gloried in the delicious feeling of being loved.

Not surprisingly, George's car roared off down the street at record speed and Nikki and Helen appreciated their friends' unfortunate dilemma.
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richard
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Scene Six

A / N Information taken from Patient UK Pregnancy Screening checks

It occurred to Jo that, now her relationship with John was finally starting to go on track, nothing was stopping him from telling Sir Ian of the happy news and the fact that Jo Mills would no longer appear before him in court. Because this was starting to become a fact of life, it was a matter that logic demanded that he get his head around this idea.

With that in mind, Jo swung easily into the corridor that led to John's chambers and into the room. Coope shot her an inquisitive glance as her mind started to work out the purpose of the call. To her surprise, neither of them embarked on any opening gambit that was the prelude to the incongruent slotting in of personality discords and mutual agreement on the injustices of the case under consideration. She dropped her handbag on the side and smiled at the man who lay back so nonchalantly in his armchair.

"Can you really bear to give up the prospect of me appearing before you in court," Jo asked as if in jest.

"I don't know," John mused. "It's not as if you're a junior barrister who needs some guidance. You're making your own mark as is George.We aren't half so isolated as we once were."

"But," pursued Jo, a glint in her eye as she spotted his circuitous line of discourse. "Are you really committed to the idea of telling Sir Ian that we are an item? It will mean that they can call off the bloodhounds and we can feel secure at last."

A mysterious look appeared on John's face as he mulled over the implications of her statement. He had got so used to the LCD breathing over his shoulder and had great delight in foiling their efforts. It struck him as very odd to take steps to disarmament in this one area of his life after years of warfare.

"It won't feel like living in Soviet Russia with snap happy officious court officials at work. You'll remember how close it came to finishing off my professional career, that time we were photographed in bed together."

"Don't I just," grinned John. "That was in the days when the brethren regarded me as the outcast and not the standard bearer. How times change. Now they would rally to my side if the Powers of Darkness made the slightest move against me."

Jo looked at John with great curiosity. She couldn't help noticing how he had neatly slithered away from her question and how the glint of amusement in his eyes and the smile on his face was for himself. All the while, the sun streamed in through the window and illuminated the scene. It struck a false note as she felt she was owed an answer to a serious question about their lifestyle and how much she could count on talking about themselves as an item. She debated for a long while whether or not to press the point but something in the man's inscrutable smile deterred her from taking such a risk in their newfound relationship. Even as the seconds ebbed away, a still small voice inside her told her that she was making a mistake. The trouble was that the more the seconds ebbed away, the harder it felt for her to backtrack on her decision- if it could be called as such..

Unseen by Jo, Coope pursed her lips disapprovingly. She knew that the judge was making a mistake but it was not for her to say.

*********


When Jo drove her way home from the first Monday's work in September, the leaves on the trees were starting to turn yellow gold but this first sign of impending winter was belied by the glorious warmth of the tail end of Summer. The sun glinted down on her as she manoeuvred her car out of the London traffic towards her rural splendour just conveniently outside London. She was heading off home towards a well deserved dinner and a refreshing cup of tea. To her way of thinking the good feeling inside her felt well-deserved and no more than what she deserved.

As she looked at the way she lived her life, she felt pretty satisfied with her lot in life. She'd had her fill of years of ceaseless grind in bringing up her children and pursuing her professional career, and the fiendish dichotomy of her heartache of the decline and death of her loyal husband and of her shameful yet attractive affair with John.There were days when she felt that life's burdens were too heavy to carry, that all life held out to her was this same intolerable burden, day after day, week after week and year after year, unending with no let up. Somehow she'd pulled through and finally, she'd seen off both her sons, now dependable young men to a bright future at university. She'd found that the hard road she'd trod of crusading cases had been mysteriously been transformed into a career option. The cases that she'd handled, the Nikki Wade reappeal and Helen Stewart versus Regina had both provided favourable publicity and the respect of her peers. She'd long noticed from the sidelines the flashier,more publicity conscious members of the brethren crowing over their latest victory and felt underappreciated. Now all that was changed by the same mysterious process that saw John Deed transform from the 'baker's boy' to the handsome leader of the revolution, a positive Che Guevera figure- or as much as his smart suited, clean shaven blue eyed charisma would ever let him.

Once again, Jo's thoughts returned full circle to that baffling, enigmatic ill assorted assembly of different personality traits that was John Deed. She'd picked up on the fact that he'd become more open, more willing to admit mistakes, more willing to put his emotions on the very same part of the line that his politics had been. Certainly Nikki and Helen's gentle ministrations had done wonders for him in the most sisterly fashion possible. She'd come across that from her very first meeting with him on her return to London when he'd gone out of his way to talk about them. What she was still getting her head round was how John had come to place them in a category of woman that defied both explanation and description. She knew that there was a positive intimacy between them which posed no threat to her or anyone else. Those two women saw through John but the wonder of it all was that it didn't faze him.

What perturbed Jo was a trace of the old John peeping out the previous Thursday when she mentioned the possibility of telling Sir Ian that they were an item.She had asked the question not once but twice, three times in different guises and John's replies followed some parallel universe that didn't meet up with what she was saying. Was his reluctance to tell Sir Ian to keep him guessing while ensuring that he wasn't trying a case where she was appearing ? That would be in keeping with his impish sense of mischief and would square the circle. Did he really want Jo to appear before him and have the committed relationship with her that she fundamentally wanted? That was equally possible as both genuinely enjoyed the trials they conducted. Then again, John was now in the situation that he could depend equally on George in helping to achieve justice so that Jo's presence in court was no longer indispensible as the one crusading barrister. Now that George was securely in a relationship with her partner, it took away the tension that had sparked between them. She had no reason to be insecure about George's presence around John as she had once been. Finally, was John's protestations of constancy a step too far for him and would he revert to his womanising ways that had so marred their relationship in the past. The trouble was that this was an equal possibility along with all the rest.

As Jo finally got home to her very pleasant looking brick built house in a row of similarly looking countryish looking houses, the light and warmth had gone out of the day. As Jo slammed the car door shut, she felt that arriving at her longed for destination home was less satisfying than all her struggles through the London traffic. There was a sense of emptiness inside her as she twisted the key in the Yale lock and pulled the door open with the considerable effort required of such ancient woodwork which mysteriously swelled and shrank with the seasons. She flung her briefcase on the side, hung her coat up on the hook and made her way to the kitchen for the nice English cup of tea, the habitual remedy for frayed nerves.She was home now- for what home was worth.


******


Meanwhile, Jo's rural paradise housed an overlooked corner of the village that consisted of concrete slab-sided council houses and a new arrival was making her desperate arrival from all the mixed-up confusion of life in London.

"There's your home from home," the removals van driver called out cheerfully to the woman passenger. "It's number 8 only the house number's missing."

"So's the front gate," came the surly laconic reply in a surprisingly educated accent, if dressed down for the occasion. This was the nearest to a conversation that the driver had exchanged with this woman throughout the journey. He had a bit of the gift of the gab and most women opened up to him. He was the friendly kind to whom most women reacted that way. Conversations were part of the perks of the job but he contented himself with the thought that you win some, you lose some. The job was a cut price one and he hoped she'd do her best to help hump her belongings into the house, pay the bill so he could piss off home to where his dinner on the table was waiting.

Sure enough, the standard wooden front gate should have sported a house number on the gatepost that, in years gone past, the metal hinges would have let the entrance click shut only house number and gate had been unscrewed sometime past. The wooden boarding had only just been taken off the windows as it had lain vacant for some months. By circuitous means, the middle aged woman had secured the tenancy of the house.Casual observation noted her slim build, well worn black leather jacket and jeans faded at the knee. Though she'd done a few miles on the clock, he concluded laconically that she wasn't that bad looking and had something about her for those who liked that type.

As the man helped the customer move in the three piece suite, he did grudgingly hand it to her that she didn't fumble the job and made a passable assistant as likewise, she opened the doors smartly as he wheeled in first her washing machine and then her cooker on his trolley. She didn't get all petulant and tired on him but slogged away reliably enough, her sparse conversation drying up on her. He accepted this as any guy would be the same. It was only when the woman swung down a battered looking red electric guitar that was her pride and joy by the way she took care of it, gesturing to him to carry the amplifier that his interest was vaguely stimulated. He was even more surprised when a newer looking bass guitar emerged from the depth of the van.

"So you've been in a girl band then," he asked shortly. He scratched his head and wondered if she was secretly famous but reckoned that one popstar looked like another these days and this woman was no spring chicken.

"Not the sort of girl bands you see on telly these days," she laughed, that flash of a smile making her suddenly look younger and more attractive. "In any case, it's my business who or what I am."

"OK, I'll leave it off," the man replied, slightly irritated by this woman's edginess. She'd been on her guard from the word go. "You'd better make an effort to fit in around here as from my experience, villagers don't take kindly to what they see as an attitude problem- or otherwise if you're annoying the neighbours."

"I live my life as I like," she retorted, reaching inside her pocket for her cigarette packet and lighter. "Here you are, want one," she continued with no suggestion of a feminine desire to please him.

"Don't mind if I do," he said, as if accepting it from a workmate.The nicotine worked its way round his system as he noticed the sun start to set through the small elm tree in the front garden. He'd done his whack for the day. "Anyway, if that's the last of your stuff, it's time to settle up."

The woman looked around in the large bag of obvious personal belongings and fished out her cheque book and cheque card. The man was grateful that this woman was together enough in this rerspect. He'd done jobs where either men or women had turned the piled up possessions upside down, the one blaming the other while he sighed to himself in barely controlled exasperation. At least this trip was swift and business-like with no hassles. It did cross his mind just why this woman came to this part of the country as she wrote out the cheque in her surprisingly neat and regular handwriting but soon dismissed it from his mind as he had a home to return to and he was dog tired.

******

In the meantime, Nikki was accompanying Helen on a bright September morning on her visit to St Mary's for her 12 week checkup on the progress of her pregnancy. Helen said enough of it to prompt Nikki to obtain Paul's ready consent to accompany Helen and pass on his own good wishes.
Helen had answered questions from the midwife early on in her pregnancy about her general health, family history, social history, and had answered them in rapid confident tones partly to persuade herself that this was how she really felt and was pleased to be pronounced to be as fit and healthy as she'd ever been. She'd been weighed, had her blood pressure checked and altogether, she had been made to feel very special by the sympathetic professionals whose attitude she respected and related to
"I'm not exactly a young prospective mother, you understand," Helen had said in a way that was intended to please some abstract standard, or so the midwife guessed as she guessed Helen's fears."You don't have to be in your late teens to be a perfect conceiving mother or do you."
"You've got it perfectly correct, Helen. You shouldn't be in a frantic race to conceive like a biological clock on steroids," the midwife replied in reassuring tones.
Helen clung onto that reassuring thought as she'd read up all about pregnancies and she needed to keep that nagging thought at bay that she and Nikki were guaranteed a perfect baby. Certainly, if looks and personality were considered, then they had every reason to be optimistic.
There was something about Helen's disconsolate stance that impelled Nikki to put her arms round her from behind and kiss her on her cheek and Helen melted into the strength of the love that her lover offered.She knew that, while Nikki wasn't 'in your face' over-demonstrative in her public displays of affection, this exception was about her pure love for Helen and her ability to tune in to how she was feeling.
They drove off to St Mary's hospital pre natal clinic and found their way round the clean bright endless corridors to the bit of the hospital they were familiar with and checked in at reception.
Nikki was kindly allowed in as Helen was made ready to lie flat on her back to receive an ultrasound scan. The clinically efficient nurse explained to Helen that she would need to lie on her back, that she would spread a cold jelly-like substance over her lower abdomen, and then using a transducer to move over the abdomen to find the baby and the foetal heart beat. The transducer transfers images to a computer monitor of the emerging foetus. Even at the twelve week stage of pregnancy, it could accurately date the age of the unborn baby and expected time of birth, and to check for twins or more.................
"Twins?"Helen echoed, the thought literally never having occurred to them before. "I know Nikki and I wanted to start a family but...."
"Just relax," came the laughing, reassuring reply," Just trust us."
Nikki grinned at the words used innocently by the helpful member of St Mary's hospital team. How often had Helen, the self confessed 'prison officer professional' used such words to Nikki years ago? Even lying on her back, Helen caught the train of thought from her mischievous partner and the irony of the situation couldn't help but make her smile.
Helen did as she was instructed and lay flat on her back as the cold substance was applied to her. She looked at the computer screen, at all the hardwear and all this highlighted from the way the nurse worked with clinical precision that there was a growing being within her that would eventually emerge into the light of day.




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Scene Seven


"Hey Nikki, take a look at the notice of our Annual General Meeting. It's that time of the year," Paul said carelessly as he strolled in to her work place in his typical laid-back fashion.

"That's wonderful, Paul. I suppose a number of us will be going," Nikki said in her endearingly shy fashion that didn't want to push herself forwards if it meant the slightest hint of self-agrandisement.

"The list of those involved starts with you, Nikki.Mark up your diary for Wednesday November 19th. The only reason you were left out last year was because, if I remember it right, you were in court giving evidence for your friend Karen Betts."

"That's really kind of you, Paul," Nikki answered, blushing with pleasure at the fullsome compliments.Her natural modesty and dedication to the job in hand didn't permit her the narcissistic boastfulness to colleagues as to whaty a superwoman she was. They tended to get short, abbreviated accounts of what she did , of her circle of friends and to let her work and actions speak for themselves.

"We'd be idiots to leave you out. You're a natural with your background, your hard work since you've been here, your involvement in a number of high profile court cases, with your circle of friends including a judge and a barrister not forgetting that remarkable woman of yours, Helen Stewart. I'll shut up at this point as I know what you're like at accepting praise."

Nikki grinned sheepishly at her boss's kindly words and wondered if she would rise to the challenge. If Paul thought she was up to it, she would take his word for it and see what gives.

"All this is new to me, to help out with an Annual General Meeting," she confessed.

"That's why I'm inviting you to sit in at the managers meeting so you know what's going on. I know you work best hearing things first hand. Feel free to ask questions about anything that comes up. I mean it."

After Paul drifted off, a wide smile was spread permanently across her face. This was the working life she wanted, an organisation that would be supportive, that would give her her head and above all else, something that she could believe in.


*******


"How long have I been here?" Nikki asked Paul in a dazed tone of voice as they strolled down the corridor to the meeting room. To her recollection, the months had simply flown past as her work had engrossed her.

"By my reckoning, a year and four months though it feels like you've always been here. I mean it in the nicest possible way, you know."

"You're flattering me, Paul. I'm not great at accepting compliments. This time I'll live with it seeing as this meeting is a totally new experience, like will they really like me as I really am? You can have too much of a good thing."

"Don't worry, Nikki.The natives are friendly or so Dr Livingstone assures me."

Nikki always liked the guy's dry sense of humour but never more than now. It was so much like her own and was exactly what she needed right now to steady her nerves. Going to a management meeting was a completely new experience for Nikki and she tried to recall Helen's episodic accounts of her experiences at Larkhall.Left to herself, she might do a runner as management meetings had that aura of an impossibly high standard of professionalism whereas she had brought herself up by her own bootstraps. For a moment, memories of her first office job came to her mind. She was going up in the world but wasn't there the danger of vertigo?

"Watch out I don't open my gob too much. You know what I'm like," she joked nervously.

"Nikki," Paul said, laying his hands on her shoulders. "In all the time you've worked for me, have I ever told you you've either said or written a complete load of crap?"

"Well, er no," she said hesitatingly.

"I suffer fools and bullshitters less than you think I do only as you've never had cause to see that side of me. I'll look after you, believe me."

Nikki swallowed and tried to put on a brave face on things. What else could she do but trust in him?

Paul flung the door open wide and what Nikki saw instantly struck her favourably . Instead of some some soulless, antiseptic corporate chrome and glass world, this was a step back into the past with a round timeworn mahogany table in the centre, pictures on the walls including the organisation's founder, John Howard, the bookcases were full. Overall, the atmosphere was rarefied, conservative yet Nikki wasn't going to scorn the visible marks of its Victorian charitable origins. It was then that she took in the array of middle aged men and women with greying hair and dressed in sensible suits. There was the Assistant Director, Policy Development Officers, Programme Managers and the like. Nikki looked at her own black trouser suit which had a flamboyant cut about it and her white open neck shirt was stylish, not businesslike. She considered her own role as researcher and concluded that, worthy though the others might be, she didn't need a fancy title to prop up her ego with. She looked at Paul and didn't even think of his job title. He was her boss and that's all he needed as she affectionately considered how impossible it was for him to look like other than a casually dressed academic.

It took Nikki's full concentration to take in the language of meetings, of agendas, of minutes from the previous meeting which she'd not seen before.They whipped through the preliminaries at bewildering speed and she was only saved by Paul discreetly pointing to the relevant part of the paperwork and discreetly whispering in her ear. It was when the choice of speakers when she pricked up her ears and came to life.

"We have made a point of inviting the current Home Secretary to speak so that there can be an exchange of views where hopefully, we can temper the increasingly immoderate views that are expressed. I take it that there is no dissent that we are wasting time in inviting the current incumbent. His views are taken straight off the printing press of the more disgusting tabloids," the Assistant Director proposed in a discreet tone of voice reminiscent of the archetypal Whitehall mandarin.

"Here here," the most conservative woman said loudly. Nikki opened her eyes wide and her fervent clapping was notched up distinctly louder than the polite assent that rustled round the table. If only Helen could see me now she'd laugh out loud, she thought to herself, colouring slightly as all eyes were upon her.

"You know the man, Ms Wade," the director asked in not unfriendly tones.In that split second, the universe turned as she strove for control. Finally, her sheer nerve came to her rescue. that quality which had never let her fail any challenge put before her.

"I have good friends in the legal profession who dislike the man intensely," Nikki replied, her multilingual ability that enabled her manner to chime in with the others, to talk their language. She quickly decided that the words that came to mind, 'loathe his guts' was not perhaps well chosen and continued in as smooth a speaking voice as she could conjure up. "I did happen to be passing by and saw the high court judges remonstrate with him when they went on strike against his plans for mandatory sentencing. I confess he did not impress me as someone you could have a dialogue with, though, of course, you may have longer experience of him than I have. Just my opinion, that's all."

A rustle of attitude made its murmurous way round the table and because it was so ambiguous and non committal, Nikki mouthed 'how did I do?' to Paul who gently squeezed her hand in the most inconspicuous fashion, reassuring his friend that the others had been quietly impressed. They were all ears as Nikki had grabbed their interest.
"We did try for the Secretary of State for Children, Schools and Families but his agenda is so copiously occupied that I received his appropriately drafted regrets that he couldn't attend so I took the liberty in phoning an old friend, Andrew McCully, Director of Supporting Children and Young People. I am sure he will attend but I do need a second string speaker who will be up to the job. I fancy from the earlier conversation that you, Ms Wade nmight be able to assist."

"Me?" Nikki said incredulously, not expecting for her views to be canvassed. She had about two thirds way worked out how to 'play herself into the rhythms of the discourse. She never expected to be so high profile as the complete novice here.

"Why not you. I have heard good things about you,"the Assistant Director said, a kindly look in his eye for the first time Nikki had entered the room.

"I suppose I do know a diverse range of people. What about a judge? John Deed comes to mind."

"Ms Wade, the problem as I see it is that judges are handing down sentences that are filling up our prisons at a disquieting rate of knots," answered the most severely check suited man in harsh dismissive tones.The man had a white moustache and beard as if to reinforce his masculinity in his attempt to dominate the meeting. Right, I'll show him, Nikki thought, her spirits roused. It doesn't matter what the hell job he does in the organisation. I'm as good as anyone here.

"Not the judge I have in mind. He stands fervently for justice, compassion and for all the traditional freedoms and virtues you care to name. He is well respected amongst the judiciary,"insisted Nikki, her enthusiasm overflowing as Paul had predicted.

"Their modus operandi is partly to satisfy the imagined views of the ordinary British public. Five minutes after they have retired to their chambers, they have swept from their minds any thoughts as to how that prisoner will spend his or her life,"came the sarcastic response.

"Not John. I have not ever met anyone who questions the world around him, including himself. He is striving for truth in the same way we are but a different field.I assure you that he will make an excellent speaker."

Nikki's voice made such an impression of passionate conviction that Paul allowed a strategic measure of time to elapse as the rest of the board mulled over the idea before carrying on with the debate.

"I think we ought to pursue Nikki's suggestion," he interjected in measured tones,"That is, unless anyone else has any more compelling suggestions."

"But how do we know he's willing and ,more to the point, able to attend our conference? I confess I've never heard of him before and we don't want to get let down at the last minute."

Nikki was ready for that as Paul noticed with amusement out of the corner of his eye. He knew very well in advance that, once his talented subordinate got the measure of the meeting, she couldn't be chained back.

"I'll get out and talk to him straightaway.If there are any problems, I'll tell Paul immediately. Should I get the verbal OK, this can be embodied in the nature of a formal invitation. Does that sound all right?"

There was a ripple of sounds round the table and, smiling slightly, the Assistant Director gave his approval. In moving to the next item on the agenda, Nikki subsided into polite subserviance while her mind started racing ahead on her self-imposed errand. She hoped she'd judged right and Paul led her to sleepwalk her way through the rest of the meeting.


********

"Hey judge, It's Nikki here," the audibly excited tone of voice resonated down the phone while Helen smiled and held her hand. She had got the gist of her lover's excited flurry of words as she raced in at express speed.

"From the way you're speaking, you're the bearer of good news,"John replied in his warmest tones while Monty discreetly read his copy of the times the other side of the dining room table in the digs, his ears suitably attuned.

"How would you like to be second speaker at the Howard League of Penal Reform AGM judge?"

"Only second speaker, Nikki?" questioned John in amused tones while Monty smiled indulgently. It was as well that he's just finished his vegetarian dinner as otherwise, Monty knew that his friend would carry on the conversation whence it led and let his dinner get cold.

"There's some Government minister for children but don't worry, you'll easily upstage him," Nikki eagerly pursued while Helen delightedly kissed the top of her lover's head. She knew she'd swing it with him as how could he platonically resist her?

"So what is it I'm supposed to talk about?"John replied, giving the game away, much to Monty's amusement who concluded exactly the same as Helen did.

"Oh, you know," Nikki replied, waving invisible circles with her free hand. "The role of the judge in shaping justice, restitution and mercy,"she continued, inventing the title from off the top of her head which she made a mental note to advise Paul as that had been left out of the meeting's deliberations.

The wheels in John's mind started turning straightaway and he resolved that, no matter what trial might come up, his friend Monty would cover for him, judging by his friendly smile from over the top of his newspaper and the way he nodded his head approvingly.

"You're on, Nikki. You embody this in the form of a letter and Coope will give it her special attention. You know what she's like."

"That's really kind of you, judge. I was worried that I'd taken you for granted."

"My pleasure. I'll enjoy myself. You give my best wishes to Helen who I know is listening to every word of the conversation."

"How the hell did he know?" Helen asked in bewildered tones as her arms slid round her partner's.Whatever her hormones might be doing right now as her pregnancy advanced, it didn't mean that she wasn't going to stop fancying her girlfriend right now.

"Because he knows your habits only too well," Nikki replied pertly just before their lips met and blocked off any further conversation for a while.

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Scene Eight


"Ian, what a surprise to see you," that distantly remembered voice purred from behind him as he was drinking alone in the bar where he stopped off at the end of a day's work , just round the corner of the offices of the Lord Chancellor's Department.

One might have thought that the stiffly besuited man was hung up every night in some cupboard as work finished only to be unpacked the next day, as he gave the impression that he lived for his career and had no existence outside it. Moreover, his manner was cold, restrained and emotionless except for the occasions when John's mocking laugh roused him to peevish anger and when he used Lawrence James as his whipping boy when things went wrong. He went about his business with unrelenting zeal, studying papers, exercising his steely control over his subordinates and ensuring that his grip on his department remained absolute. The other side of the coin of this autocrat was the time and effort he spent greasing the wheels of administration in relation to the ministers and other heads of department that his work interlinked with. Most difficult was his interactions with the judges. Often, he thought to himself, that talking to these prickly, independent minded judges demanded a doppelganger personality, one that could cajole, indulge and patiently reason with tempremental prima donnas when the other side of his world meant that all he need do was to snap his fingers to command instant obedience. All he had to back him up was the unspoken set of values that could be best summed up as the Old School Tie and the common understanding of the common good. That had held his world together in the past but now his world was coming apart on him. It was up to him to make amends after his disastrous annual report and focus harder than ever on the tasks in hand.

It was his habit to occasionally drop into this pub after work in the hope that one or other of his cronies would be there. They could offer each other cold comfort and discuss the way the country was going to the dogs. They would obtain some kind of mournful pleasure in obtaining the flickering flame of intimacy. Of course any personal matters were kept under wraps. Coming out with emotional outpourings might be what women did but was indecent to his refined tastes.He'd been brought up to think that such matters would sort themselves with a certain degree of application and focussed thinking. Sometimes there were good days, sometimes bad days. It was the way life went and shouldn't be a separate question. Go down that route and life became messy, disorganised and out of control. He didn't want to know about it, wouldn't hear of it.

Suddenly, his ex-wife leapt out of nowhere and he focussed his mind on that glamorous stranger. Was he ever married to her once?

"Don't look as if you didn't know me. What about your manners, your sense of propriety that you are known so well for?" that voice said again with a mocking twist to it as she saw the dazed look in his eye.

There she was, that elegant woman wearing a simple black low-cut dress showing more than a hint of her ample breasts. Her long, slightly reddish hair was pulled away from her forehead and fell over her shoulders. Her straight nose might give an impression of strength and honesty but her musical voice arched and skidded off the syllables and was as tricky as the look in her blue eyes. Her shapely lips had once smiled for him, and for Deed and other men she had consorted with till finally their limping marriage finally fell apart after one infidelity too many. She was no longer part of his life so what was she doing here?

"What are you doing here, Francesca if I might ask? I would have thought this would be off your beaten track," Sir Ian said in what he thought was a civilised manner of conversation.

"Still so cold, Ian? I might have thought you wouldn't change," Francesca said laughingly. "Still, just to satisfy your curiosity, I had this whim to call in while I was passing and while I had the time."

"I suppose you're on your way to see Deed. That's the only thing that would bring you back into my orbit," Sir Ian said with what he thought was icy politeness and which Francesca saw as his paranoia coming out. It was obvious that the man's sex-life was zero, she thought as she tingled inside at the thought of the smooth tongued publisher whose drop dead looks she was looking forward to sampling and, of course, his very smooth tongue. Of course, Ian was not to know about it. For once, she had spoken the plain and simple truth but her ex-husband was not to know that as he was so wrapped up with his government intrigues.

"Good heavens, Ian. You're miles out. I haven't seen John for years. He's mixing in completely different circles, or so I hear."

"What circles?" he said hastily, a tremor of excitement in his voice. Poor man, Francesca thought contemptuously, he's overplayed his hand by a mile.

"Nothing I know of. He's not around in my circle of acquaintances. He hasn't pursued me for a long time. Why don't you ask him?" Francesca said, trying her best to choke off this particular topic of conversation. Already she was getting bored with the conversation and she started looking around her.

"Where did things go wrong between us - just as a matter of interest?"

Francesca looked curiously at the man who had once been her husband. He had never asked her that question before. For once, she couldn't work out his motivation.

"Do you know darling, what puzzles me is why you originally proposed to me. I always felt you should have been a monk."

Sir Ian's mask shut down on him. He wasn't going to part with his innermost secrets under these terms The carelessly dropped 'darling' was pathetically meaningless. It might as well have been directed towards the milkman when paying the monthly bill.

"Your idea hardly has any credibility as you know I've never been formally religious.My family provided well for me to pursue my career- and the sort of lifestyle which saw you well provided for. The circles we moved in thought we were well matched."

"Good God, are you really still so soulless and cold blooded. I thought that human suffering would humanise you," Francesca jested, tilting her glass of wine at him with one hand and teasing her hair with the other. Her peculiarly brazen manner finally got the reaction that she had been manoeuvring for.

"If by your flippant words, am I feeling more well disposed to you with the passage of time, well I'm sorry but the answer is no. What you did, not once but many times, was absolutely unforgivable."

Francesca stood open-mouthed at the sudden surge of emotion that poured out. The man's brow was sweaty. She had never known the man to sweat before.

"So you did have feelings for me?"

"Believe what you want. If you care to go your way in life, I'll go mine."

With those rapidly tossed out words, Sir Ian twisted sideway on his heel and rushed out of the pub. With all the pressure on him, the last thing he wanted was that horrible woman to unearth the torments that he thought he'd finally sealed over and buried forever. All he wanted was stability in his life. The last thing he wanted was all that bad feeling to burst loose. The thought of that frightened him as he hailed a taxi to get him back safely home.

*******

Lawrence James observed his master as he greeted him sourly with his sheaf of reports. Sir Ian wearily indicated the in tray for them upon which the man made his discreet departure. He knew very well from the signs when his presence was welcome and when it was not. Too late, Sir Ian started to think that perhaps he wanted some human company but what topic would they talk about that wasn't formal and businesslike? The state of the weather? Sighing, he gave himself up to the onerous duties represented by his in tray. A stray suspicion lurked inside him that there certain virtues in being overworked before he reassured himself with the thought that this was the natural order of things and this was what he did for a living. .

He had ploughed halfway through his work when a phone call was put through to him. Of course, no ordinary Tom, Dick or Harry could pick up the phone and call him.After all, he had an organisation to filter out the routine and the unimportant. This call was different. It was his old friend who sat on the board of the Howard League of Penal Reform, one of his useful contacts .

"Why hello, Peter, it's pleasant to hear from you these days," he said in as positive a voice as he could conjure up, shaking off the miasma of his bad mood. His habitual reluctance to introspection precluded him from ever calling it by the starkly dangerous term of depression. The last thing he'd ever want to think was that he might be falling apart.

"I went to one of our management meetings yesterday which wasn't one of our best ones. On reflection I was gravely disturbed by the content."

"I'm obviously sorry for you," Sir Ian hastily interjected not having a clue why he should be bothered by other people's ills, not even his friends," but we can all have our off days when things don't go the way we want it. It's one of the occupational hazards of high position."

The line went quiet for a few minutes while the other man, Peter Jenkins, thought carefully. He had snippets of information to impart, having heard from Ian in general terms that judges these days were a more turbulent, unruly mood than they used to be. On balance, he decided to come clean.

"I don't know if I ever told you about the strident lesbian activist who somehow wormed her way into our organisation.Of course, where I work, it's distinctly non PC to talk in these terms but you and I can talk openly between ourselves."

The tweed suit of the man down the other end of the phone expressed the man's solid conservatism and unwillingness to move with the times if the ideas were progressive. He normally talked in smooth oily tones to his friends and dismissive disdain to his enemies. The reverses he'd sustained at the meeting brought the natural man to the surface and vengeful malice infected his manner.

"I've come across the type before," Sir Ian said tersely without elaborating on the point.

"Her name's Nikki Wade though I don't suppose the name means anything to you. Dreadful abominable abbreviation to her Christian name."

Sir Ian jerked upright at the name. His friend's fussy pedantry passed him by as unimportant.

"These new radicals are getting too much of a hold of our organisation with no respect for the tried and trusted ways of doing business. We are a charitable organisation and nothing more," complained Peter Jenkins in aggrieved tones at the way his world was being forcibly changed. "Anyway, they had a field day and persuaded our Assistant Director who, between you and me, can be easily influenced, to have this John Deed as second speaker for our next Annual General Meeting."

"You can't be serious," exclaimed Sir Ian, spilling the cup of tea that lay to the side of him. Instantly, he could feel the tension rising inside him and the beginnings of what he knew was going to be a stinker of a headache. Increasingly, he was subject to strange moods that werre disproportionate to their cause and he found himself being inclined to overreact. This time, he could really feel his emotions taking off on a dangerous spiral whose destination frightened him. Right now, he felt clammy inside with that horrible feeling of being helpless to stop his world from going out of his control. He gulped a mouthful of tea to calm himself down only the hot liquid stung his lips. Finally, the physical pain caused him to snap out of it and get a grip on himself.

"I can't pretend to you that this is the very worst of news but I'm glad to hear about it. There may be something that can be done about it," he said in cold, considered tones.

"You never know, he may make a mistake. After all, he's supposed to be nice to prisoners and he must have done his share in increasing the prison population."

"You may be right Peter," Sir Ian said, a faint ray of sunshine peeping through the overwhelming gloom. He was wary to go to the other extreme and be wildly optimistic after having seen his most promising schemes go up in smoke at Deed's hands. No, calm measured control was the answer. The only problem was that he wanted to be alone in order to try and achieve it and wanted to be off the phone as soon as possible.

"Perhaps we could exchange ideas. Personally speaking, I could live with the AGM being blighted with his contribution going down like a lead balloon if the greater good is served. Perhaps we could discuss it sometime."

"It might be a good idea but I do need to think this over. Anyway, it's nice to have a pleasant chat but I can see someone coming already," Sir Ian lied, inventing the fictional character on the spot. "I really must be going."

With the phone silenced, a chill feeling started to eat its way into Sir Ian's soul while his thoughts churned over, with no purchase on anything of substance.

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Scene Nine



"Thank God for the internet," Helen had exclaimed into the evening air. "If I hadn't done my homework, you'd still be treating me like a precious piece of Dresden china, scared to death in case anything went wrong. You'd better be grateful."

"All right, I confess it. I didn't know any better," Nikki had moaned appologetically in reply to her lover's taunts as she had lain on her backin their comfortable flat. "I mean, years on the lesbian scene has taught me everything about emotional and physical love between women but babies? That's like learning a different language."

"So you have me to thank so that I can freely express my carnal lusts for you and for me to be equally pleasured," the very naked Helen had retorted, maximising her advantage as she had lain alongside Nikki , her wandering fingers delicately exploring the intimate areas she adored.

"All right, so I messed up. I made assumptions about pregnancy and wanted to be all noble and protective. I didn't realise what I'd done wrong."

"So instead of shagging the living daylights out of me as you have done ever since since we lived together, correction, since that first night together, I got the big freeze. Can't you believe I'd start to wonder why?" teased Helen, articulating every syllable with the tip of her tongue.

Nikki had been in a helpless state of confusion. Her lover was and always had been never more alluring when she talked in direct sexual terms which normally did wonders for her libido but this time she was skewed by conflicting emotions.

"So maybe, I'll start with you first. You know what a gorgeous arse you have, how you've got luscious legs I'd die for and sneaking a peek at your physical charms is such a turn on," Helen had teased, her fingers slowly stroking her lover's flat stomach and obviously contemplating sliding down towards the centre of her desires. She had clearly intended to tantalise Nikki and work her up into a state of delerious physical hunger to be penetrated. All Nikki's insides had been crying out in a state of molten lust as inch by inch, those determined fingers had caressed the insides of her thighs, oh such a short distance away from where she had been crying out for them to be, the rhythm of her hips moving increasingly frantically. Finally, Helen had expertly slid inside her lover and had touched her in the way she loved best while Nikki had wrapped her arms round her lover, frantically kissing her. As Nikki had surrendered to the exquisite feeling of a gloriously sustained orgasm that had seemed to go on forever, she had delighted in the wonderful discovery that, in their single minded drive to parenthood, they didn't have to throw aside everything they'd learned about the many faceted sides of the love they shared. As she had sought every scrap of air into her lungs in the aftershocks of their lovemaking, Nikki had known beyond doubt that the very formidable, rampant Ms Stewart had intended to demand restitution in full. She had wondered if she was up to it..


******

All that had happened a few months ago in the early days of Helen's pregnancy when both of them had been adjusting to what it meant to them. The period of morning sickness when Nikki had been the concerned partner also told them loud and clear what was going on. As time rolled by, here they were again, both naked beneath the duvet and riding the changes they were going through. After all, what happened to Helen happened sympathetically to Nikki.

"Oh God, you're not really serious about rereading the panphlet about sex during pregnancy. I thought we'd figured that out when you first got hold of it," Nikki said incredulously.

"Perfectly serious. I want to make sure we're doing it right," Helen said, a broad grin splitting her face in two. Nikki rolled her eyes at the way her lover was tantalising her.Was this the result of some kind of hormonal gyrations? Suddenly, a flash of inspiration lit up her mind. Two could play that game.

"You mean sex? As if I'd ever need to go back to school on that one," Nikki said mischievously, a wicked smirk spreading across her face and a sparkle in her eyes. Helen tried to swat her partner with a corner of the duvet. She knew perfectly well that Nikki was teasing her.

"Don't you dare try to misunderstand me, Nikki Wade. I was trying to have a serious conversation," scolded Helen in forceful tones. Nikki wasn't done with the pretend argument yet as Helen suspected. She knew how verbally fluent her partner naturally was and how hanging out with distinguished members of the legal profession had sharpened her skills.

"You know, darling, if we were both given a book on home decorating, yours would be full of underlinings, bookmarks, cross referencing, notes at the side, shopping lists, colour charts etc, etc while mine would be buried in the bookcase. I'd be at it with paintbrushes, pots of paint, splashes all over my top and me walloping away on the walls, seeing what cooks. We're just made so differently," insisted Nikki, an audible smirk in her tone of voice.

"You know that I'm irresistable so why struggle?"Helen smartly answered, neatly turning the tables.

"I was great at English at school but useless at biology," protested Nikki seeking sympathy. She sensed that she was losing the argument with her strong-minded lover but not wanting to go down without a fight..

"But you had a twenty year layoff from academia, before being stuck in prison and doing your Joan of Arc routine against all the forces of injustice. Despite all that, you got your degree in English. Nobody told you you couldn't do it,"Helen retorted pertly, knowing very well that she herself was the significant driving force behind it.

"That's you having your cake and eating it, darling,"Nikki cheekily replied. It prompted Helen to try one more gambit in with most cajoling, sexiest voice and winning smile that she knew Nikki couldn't resist.

"So why don't you give up? All I'm asking you is to read this leaflet. Not much to ask, is it?"

"You're incorrigible.You really don't give up, do you," Nikki surrendered suddenly, rolling over onto her stomach. She felt Helen's comforting arm round her shoulders to give her an affectionate squeeze and softened inside as she always did. Far be it from her to make a big issue over Helen's strange whim. From what she was picking up on, Helen's diet could take sudden strange turns. Nikki covered all bases by accepting philosophically what was to be and to grab their chances of pleasure as they came. She snuggled herself down with her partner and began to read the leaflet. This time,the words started to get through to her.

"Of course, just because sex is safe during pregnancy doesn't mean you'll necessarily want to have it! Many expectant mothers find that their desire for sex fluctuates during certain stages in the pregnancy. You and your partner need to keep the lines of communication open regarding your sexual relationship. Talk about other ways to satisfy your need for intimacy, such as kissing, caressing, and holding each other.

"Mmmm, now I see why you've been so dictatorial. I can relate to this advice which is right up my street."

"So long as you remember to do it. I don't think familiarity breeds contempt but it can breed complacency, something I could be guilty of just as much as you," interjected Helen pointedly, turning her head to grab Nikki's eye contact.

You also may need to experiment with other positions for sex to find those that are the most comfortable.

"They're actually suggesting there are alternatives to the missionary position but I suppose straight couples might not know better. We're different because we're well away," Nikki finished smugly with a look on her face as of the cat that was well used to tasting cream on demand.
"Excuse me Nikki,"Helen exclaimed, "You're forgetting that I'll be drastically changing my figure in the next few months. You might be all right but I'm going to have to keep reviewing our situation.Someone has to."
"That sounds like something you stole from a book on management, darling,"murmured Nikki cheekily under her breath.
"Come on, I'm serious now. I know you love me but will you still desire me with my stomach hanging out to here? Isn't there a stereotype of lesbian women with gorgeous breasts , long legs and perfect figures?" challenged Helen. Her forcefully expressed words took Nikki aback. There was perfect truth in that remark backed to the hilt by any busy Saturday night at Chix. Nikki turned to look at the lurking fear in Helen's green eyes and a wave of infinite compassion went out to her lover. She really would need regular reassurance on this point, she concluded.
"Darling, you must understand that I'm better than average in rolling with the changes in life. You compare the busy professional me and the way that every right was stripped away from me when I was first banged up. I don't just see you as gorgeous when you're dressed up to the nines ready to party but when you first wake up in the morning., every moment of the waking day. I love you so much and I always will."
Nikki slow clear emotion laden tones smoothed away the jittery fears that had been unspoken up to that point. She leaned her head sideways to her lover and stroked her lithe figure.

If you engage in oral sex, your partner should not blow air into your vagina. Blowing air can cause an air embolism (a blockage of a blood vessel by an air bubble), which can be potentially fatal for mother and child.

"Jesus," Nikki exclaimed as the grim wake-up call sank through all her senses. This wasn't their style but the thought of suddenly losing her partner and their child to be chilled her through and through. She could feel Helen's meaning glance at her earlier flippancy.She was right of course.

The contractions that you may feel during and just after orgasm are entirely different from the contractions associated with labour. However, you should check with your health care provider to make sure that your pregnancy falls into the low-risk category. Some doctors recommend that all women stop having sex during the final weeks of pregnancy, just as a safety precaution, because semen contains a chemical that may actually stimulate contractions. Check with your health care provider to see what he or she thinks is best.


Both women burst out in peals of delighted laughter in reaction to the previous shock to their senses . The advice was very kindly meant but sounded sweetly innocent to them. "No problems there, I think."

"Suppose we prove it," Helen said with a sultry seductive edge to her voice that was sweetly irresistable.Nikki immediately felt the answering call from between her legs.

***********

She sighed with pleasure as she was gently eased onto her back and Helen made it clear in her soft determined way in what form their sexual pleasure would take. From time to time, she fondly remembered the very first time when they had made love. The passage of time and tranquillity in their lives had softened out the fraught edginess of that well remembered night and had preserved the most magical moments. She had been soaring inside with mounting desire as Helen had ripped open her nurse's uniform and had pulled her passionately down onto the sofa. She had scarcely believed that life was real as the 'look but don't touch' Home Office professional had eagerly led her hands to feel her full breasts. At last the layers concealing that much desired woman's strong passions had been stripped aside...... that woman of hers hadn't changed as her legs were astride her, pressing against her and Helen's full lips were laying a series of passionate kisses on her while Nikki gently stroked her back. They were working up towards their first orgasm of the evening and the feel of skin next to skin felt impossibly intimate and erotic.







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Scene Ten


"So Alice,It's your turn to go up and swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?" Trisha asked the slightly nervous other woman as she ran her fingers through a lock of her dark hair that fell over her shoulders.as if to keep her worries at bay, she wore a glamorous low cut long dress that showed her statuesque figure to her best advantage.

They were relaxing in the comfortably furnished VIP lounge of Chix where they'd drifted up while Sally-Anne held the fort downstairs.Trisha liked Alice's soothing manner and could see why George was so smitten with that aspect of her friend alone so it was a surprise to see this other side of her.

"It's the first time I've given evidence in court," the other woman frankly confessed. "I may live with a top class glamorous lady barrister but I know I'll have to hack it on my own when I'm on the witness stand. It's one thing to be in the witness gallery but it's quite another to be in the hot seat."

"Relax, Alice I'm sure you'll be all right on the night. It isn't as if you're on trial yourself," Trisha urged, trying to conjure up her best attempt at reassurance. To her astonishment, Alice coloured and shut up.Too late, she remembered how it was only nine months that they had watched Helen fighting for her freedom in the Old Bailey against the establishment's vindictive desire to nail an identified troublemaker by using the oldest trick in the book, the Official Secrets Act. It was easy to overlook this when she and Nikki were living their lives away from the perils of the theatre of political drama and settling down to start a family. The heartbeat pulse of the music pulsing away downstairs helped to detract from the embarrassing silence.

"If it might help you understand, I'm giving character evidence in support of one of my one-time clients who's been involved in what you might call a crime of passion and which is technically called Grievous Bodily Harm. I have the horrible suspicion that my evidence will be contemptuously tossed aside. I'm probably getting things out of proportion,"Alice finally said at last in an unsteady rush of words. George put her arm round her lover's waist and gently comforted her, taking her out of the limelight. She knew only too well the peculiar stresses of this case. The other women companionably left them on their own.


"So how are the proud prospective parents feeling?" joked Karen from behind them as Nikki floated towards her on Helen's arm. "It's a long time since you've come down here." Trisha turned round to see her friend at her most radiant and sun tanned, blond hair immaculately shaped, a gorgeous black dress showing plenty of thigh.

"We had a period of turning in on ourselves, trying to get our heads around the prospects of being parents, getting the flat sorted out, that sort of thing," Nikki said apologetically while Helen left her to it to front for them.

"And now you've proved yourselves to yourselves after, dare I say, severely neglecting your friends?" lectured Trisha sternly with an underlying affectionate tone. She'd missed her old friend's mentally stimulating company.

"We looked around us and suddenly realised that we screwed up. I say better late than never. Besides, Helen told me the hundreth time not to treat her as a piece of Dresden china, outside bed as well as inside it," Nikki confessed with an impish grin as she adroitly worked them out of that hole. "Anyway, It's lovely to see you, babes," she added, kissing her friend affectionately on both cheeks.

"So how do you, as one of the country's hard working nurses, manage to look so suntanned? I thought you doughty warriers for the NHS were permanently shackled to your rightful place in the hospital,"George cut in, surprisingly late to join in the general banter.

"Oh, I'm just lucky, I tan easily. This weather's been so glorious," came Karen's studiously misleading attempt at modesty.

"I still can't work it out,"broke in Helen. "When you're not working, you must be having great sex with Beth but you both live in a flat.All that takes time-unless you've got access to the roof."

"Pardon me Helen but what we do in bed is secret-though I'm sure your vivid imagination can work it out," cut back Beth to be greeted by Helen's notoriously dirty laugh that amused them all. Only Alice kept quiet as she had her share of problems.


********

Alice's place of work was the Town Hall, a classic thirties edifice that had been impressive in its time but looked as if it was gradually running to seed.The building was cold in winter and overheated in summer and the inhabitants had got used to grumbling about the series of minor faults in a very British fashion. Her own office was one floor up at the back of the building which she shared with her colleagues. Everywhere looked cluttered with papers and disorganised even though the onward march of computers could not be denied even in this organisation. There was a feeling of people passing through, only using their desks, phones and computers to write up notes, make phone calls and pick each other's brains until grabbing their briefcases and hurtling out on the road again.

Alice was seated on a swivel chair, and drumming her biro against her finger nails. She had been posed a very difficult professional and personal problem that was dangerously intertwined. Looking back on it, she had been led into it so easily.

It had all started from a routine visit, sparked from a home help worrying about the level of care provided to one of their elderly female residents. Unthinkingly, Alice had taken up the reference and had set off in her car, in professional mode of thinking. Years of doing her job had disabused her of thinking that they were sweet white haired granny figures, sitting by the idealised hearth knitting bootees for grandchildren. She had found out that they came from the cross section of the population, good bad or indifferent each of whom had their own histories. Her safest way of operation was, above all, to make no assumptions. The name Mrs Constance Elliott meant nothing to her.

Sure enough, she took the route towards a small council house enclave and the nondescript array of council bungalows, each with their front hedge, uniform wooden gate, concrete front path, the white lace front curtain and finally, the plain green front door. Up till that point, everything was standard.Once inside the front door, beyond a certain amount of preparation, she would have to wing it.This posed no problem to her as she had learnt the skills of putting people at their ease in additional to her own natural warm-hearted personality. From the second she got into the house, her instincts told her there might be trouble.

As soon as she entered the front room, a sense of chaos impinged on her straightaway. She sensed immediately that the conscientious efforts of the home helps had been set at nought by the old woman's determinedly perverse efforts to undo all their handiwork.

"What are you doing here?" a sharp, querelous voice demanded of her. "You're a spy. The neighbours have been telling tales on me." The beady eyed woman sat hunched up in her tall narrow armchair which Alice concluded she spent a lot of her time.

"Not at all," Alice had replied smoothly. "I'm paid by the council to organise help for anyone who might be struggling with their lives and not to impose on them in any way. Here's my identity card if you want to be sure of yourself."

The old woman had adjusted her glasses and had peered closely at the card displaying the photograph had resembled the smiling faced woman who presented herself before her she had concluded that this stranger might not have been trying to catch her off guard. The writing had told her a lot of official gobbledegook which had gone clean past her but she hadn't wanted to show that she'd been ignorant as hell of all this mumbo jumbo. She had decided to play crafty so a slight smile had creased her face.

"So you might be who you say you are. What if I tell you that I'm fine on my own?"

"You've been twice admitted to hospital because you've fallen over and the doctors say you've not been feeding yourself," Alice had replied as gently as she could for fear of offending the woman's sense of independence. The bandaged up right leg had born ample testament to the truth of her remark. As Alice got her bearings in the situation, it struck her that Mrs Elliott looked twenty years older than her actual age.

"True," she had sighed,"I can't get around as I used to. I don't see a soul for weeks on end-apart from the local busybodies,"......whom Alice had interpreted as the home help,".....and of course, my good for nothing daughter."

This had given Alice the lead in for this crotchety old woman to start to open up. As she started to ramble away, it created a picture of a heartless daughter who picked arguments with her deliberately to upset her, who only came round to sponge off her, to make her irregular visit out of duty, who refused to provide her a granddaughter like all her friend's families all did.At the back of it, Alice had gathered that this woman's daughter had a particular lifestyle that she disapproved of but for the life of it, she couldn't really glean exactly what it was. Alice had made mental notes that this woman's mental health might not be all that it should be. She noticed that, on the mantlepiece which was crowded out by bric a brac, there wasn't one framed photograph. This had struck her as odd.

As Alice reflected on the scene in retrospect, this moment had been a misleadingly normal moment of her day when compared with what was to follow.


*********

As John sat on his own at the dinner table in the digs, he was meditating on his life, wondering where it was taking him. There were various constants in his life which oriented him in his sense of direction. He was energised and confirmed in his values by the way the political establishment hated his guts but, thanks to the solid support of the brethren, meant that he was becoming untouchable. His relationship with the women in his life had always been problematic and this was starting to resolve itself for the better. His relationship with George had improved out of all recognition now that she had a female lover and its knock on effect on Charlie and Joseph was instantly measurable.This strange development had brought on that curious development, the female friends in his life. From time to time, Nikki and Helen and their friends intersected with his life, giving him very warm sisterly support, the mutual admiration society that he had formed with Nikki being a guiding beacon. Most unusually for him, he had agreed to become a sperm donor for Nikki and Helen which gave him the chance to unselfishly help his friends. He knew that this was going to be the one and only involvement in his friend's family plans beyond their comfortable, easy going friendship. The trouble was that they floated in and out of his life and so did their friends. No matter how comfortable they were with each other, John couldn't get away from the feeling that they were different species and it mildly bothered him. At the end of the day, he was a hot blooded heterosexual male and he had his own needs to consider. This had always been driving principle as much as his passionate lifelong devotion to justice........


"John, you're just the person I wanted to see. I can see that you're a million miles away from here," called out a familiar voice from out of the distant haze of John's meditation.
"In my thoughts only, Monty. I have now landed back on earth,"John dryly observed.
"There's a bit of a fix that's come up. I've just been told that Newton's been laid up with an ankle injury. He was carried away with one of his flights of oratory when he was lecturing the up and coming judges at Warwick University only he walked off the stage."
"Talk about riding for a fall, "John retorted, making an effort to straighten his face after his first chuckle at the mental image conjored up."There but the Grace of God went John Deed."
"You can see where this is going. The University is crying out for a fill in judge who can grab the reins of a bolted horse at short notice. I must assure you," hastened Monty remembering John's previous exile there. "This is not some devious scheme to spirit you out of the way. You know by now that Joseph and I are quite able to repel the forces of reaction and after the severe drubbing that they've had at our hands with the able assistance of Nikki and Helen and their charming friends, they wouldn't dare try it on.It goes without saying that the brethren will cover your load."
John pondered his options briefly and went for it. He had got to trust Monty implicitly by now. It also crossed his mind that this would fit in with the strategy that he and Jo had worked out of taking things slowly. Absence makes the heart grow fonder or so he considered.The thought of pastures new was an attractive one, especially as he knew Newton would be champing at the bit to get up on his podium again and that their approaches to the law were pretty similar.On the whole, accepting the offer was a sound choice.

"I accept, Monty. From what I recall, there's nothing too earth shattering in the trials I've got listed that another judge couldn't handle."
"Good man," Monty replied, beaming all over his face. “Have you eaten yet?"
"To be honest. I quite forgot but I'm happy to join you for dinner."

The sense of easy familiarity and the consciousness of his own niche in the great scheme of things made for a congenial atmosphere at the end of the day.
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richard
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Scene Eleven


On a Saturday morning when Jo was at a loose end, she loved the feel of strolling down the country lane to the village store. The sun's brightness lacked the fire of the scorching days of summer but maintained a warm autumnal glow while the leaves on the trees turned to that attractive many-hued colours of green turning to gold and hadn't yet fallen from the trees in any number. She felt as if she was a country girl at heart on days like this who had to earn her living in the great metropolis. She ambled slowly towards the store which was the compendium of country ways as well as odd out of the way items that superstores either didn't stock or only sold in half dozen plastic packages. She was at a loose end this weekend as John had been detailed to fill in at short notice for a lecturer at Warwick University, being the obvious choice as he'd once been exiled there to keep him out of trouble.It was one of those things, they both agreed upon, as both weren't going to push togetherness onto their agenda too impatiently.

Unknown to her, a new visitor to the village was cursing herself to find that she'd run out of fags and she needed a new lighter and a carton of milk. Cursing, she slung on her leather jacket and strode masterfully down the lane. She wondered if the store could lay in a regular order of guitar strings but she reckoned she would have to work on that one.She wasn't in the best mood as her idea of getting away to the country had already started to lose some of its charm. She stomped off out of her estate and down the lane. She could be grateful for one thing, she supposed. The amount of walking she'd done since her arrival had at least toned her body and freshened her complexion. Living in some dump in London had made her skin feel grimy and her lungs coated with carbon. Nowadays, despite her cigarette intake, she felt physically better about herself even if she felt down. She strode into the shop without thinking and collided with some posh looking country woman wearing a nice respectable blue coat.

"Hey, watch where you're going," Jo exclaimed with some force when a solid object collided with her just when she was opening the door to the village shop, jerking her out of her reverie.

"I might ask you the same question. We're only after the same errand," this stranger replied with cool assurance, looking Jo directly in the eye. It unsettled her as this woman ought to have been either more angry or more apologetic.

"Perhaps we'd both better get through the door so we both get what we want,"Jo replied more cooly than she ought to have done. She was certainly capable of fighting a verbal argument, this being the tools of her trade but for some reason she wasn't in a fighting mood.

When they were both in the shop, neither had the inclination to dive straight for what they wanted. After all, this wasn't like a city convenience store overflowing with packets of crisps, soft drinks and copies of the Sun. The stranger studied this posh woman very closely, being aware that her own origins weren't exactly proletarian. She'd erected this tautly restrained aggressive front to fend off those who might get at her and normally, this type of woman triggered off her defences. Somehow, this woman didn't provoke this reaction as there was something about her that started the wheels turning in her mind, something she couldn't put her finger on.

"Have you lived here long," she asked in her attempt at polite conversation, something she didn't normally go in for.

"I've lived here for ages except for a spell up North. I came here when I got married and stayed here even after he died and my sons moved away," Jo said, words tumbling faster from her mouth quicker than she'd planned. Normally, she was reserved when meeting strangers for the first time, especially those she'd met in not the easiest of circumstances.

"You make it sound like they still wear clogs and the mills are still open," the other woman replied with a smile that wasn't unfriendly and wasn't mocking her. "I've travelled all over the place in my time before I put down roots here three weeks back. I'm even starting to like the dawn chorus."

Suddenly, revelation dawned. Her thought whizzed back a million miles and she was once again in the school playground, a new girl in this strict grammar school, feeling very lonely, anonymous and plain in her brand new school uniform of grey tunic and white blouse. From out of nowhere, this dark-haired girl took pity on her. She smiled as she greeted her in her flighty and self-assured tone of voice and offered her a finger of Kit-Kat from out of its silver wrapper. That kindly gesture meant a lot to Jo as perfect strangers whizzed past her, intent on their own conversations and locking her out of the picture, her a new girl. She immediately started chatting to this girl who had all the self-confidence that Jo lacked. She could have attached herself to any of the other girls but picked Jo out of the crowd. That won Jo over immediately and, as someone who felt shy about bringing friends home from school, she made an exception of Mel. From then on, when they were in a situation away from the regimental uniformity of classrooms, echoing bare corridors and school assemblies, their intimate chats became important. Right from the start, they knew that they were as different as chalk was from cheese. When Jo would grow up, she would have a serious career, would marry a good man and would have two children and live in a nice house. Mel told her that having husbands was silly as they would tie her down from any of a fast changing array of fantasy ideas she had of herself, all more exciting than Jo's as yet prosaic unformed career path. Jo wistfully conjured up pictures in her mind of what her friend would do and halfway wanted to share this future but knew that she was too sensible,that it would never be for her. Thus it was that Jo found herself practising the cello which expressed her personality perfectly in being able to shape the orchestral sounds and stay in the background. Mel, of course, got herself a flashy Cherry red Gibson guitar and got a kick out of the racket she created while somehow managing to scrape through her exams by the skin of her teeth. There was that one moment when their worlds might have coincided when Jo was cajoled to take the place of the bass player that Mel had had a bustup with and Jo took her place in a performance in the local pub. To her shame, Jo had frantically backed out of becoming a permanent member of the band and that was the end of their friendship. When they left school, each went their separate ways...until today.

"I know you,"Jo breathed."We were at school together.You're Mel Bridges, aren't you."

"Got it in one,"grinned the other woman with that cheeky manner that instantly endeared herself to Jo all over again.It was obvious to Jo that Mel had gone through the same process of time travel as she had just done. There were no recriminations for that most shaming of events which, when she thought about it, had caused her to pursue her numerous legal causes. She had suppressed the thought that all these years, she might have been compensation for her earlier perceived act of cowardice when she was young and impressionable. She had thought that John was the driving force in her career and, yes he was important, but she realised now that he wasn't the only cause. "I've just come into the area."

"That's great," Jo enthused as they started to chat away amongst themselves, oblivious of the rest of the shop except for getting the items they wanted.

"I was wondering," Jo said hesitantly. "Have you got to go off anywhere special?"

"Not if you have any other ideas,"Mel said promptly in her direct fashion.

"Good then. If you're interested, there's a comfy tea-shop along the way. I always go there to mellow out."

"You've really joined the country set,"joked Mel. "Haven't I got to put on a sensible dress and a flowered hat before I get let in. It really isn't my scene you know."

"Just for once in your life, you follow my idea. It's only fair that you do.I spent half a lifetime following your madcap ideas. In any case, nobody will take a second glance at you."

Jo's mixture of more forceful leadership than Mel remembered her capable of and gentle persuasion did the trick. She was secretly amused at the contrasts in appearance, she in her rock chick getup and Jo in her knee-length blue overcoat and flat shoes. Ah well, it will be a new experience, she thought.

The two women strolled past the village pub, the post office and finally came to the tea shop, the window displayed with home made cakes. The old-fashioned front doorbell jingled to announce their entrance and instantly the white painted room with large windows either side conveyed the sense of stillness that Mel picked up on. Everyone smiled benignly at their entrance which brought out the well-concealed quiet side of Mel. Decorously enough, the two women asked the grey haired woman on the counter for a pot of tea and home made cakes and Mel had lived just long enough in the country not to expect fast takeaway service. Together, they found a table for two and each woman now fully had the time and space to absorb the presence of the other.

"So, how does the country woman come to live her life?"

"Oh, you know me, a glutton for work and respectability. I qualified as a barrister, got married and had two sons. My husband died a number of years ago, unfortunately...."

"I'm really sorry Jo,"Mel said instantly.

"That was a long time ago, Mel.My sons are away at university and it feels that I've come round full circle being a single woman with the world at my feet."

The glint of light in Jo's blue eyes, the way her short fair hair curled and her fresh complexion conveyed a sense of real happiness and it made Mel truly glad for her. She remembered how Jo's very presence used to lift her out of one of her dark moods. She had obviously grown, matured from the girl that she used to be but she had not changed to that extent. She decided that she really liked this woman.. Right now, a shaft of sunlight seemed to bathe her in a golden glow and the dark-haired woman felt to her core that they had the chance of reconnecting their sundered friendship. They had so much to catch up on.

"But what about you?" Jo asked in her kindest, softest tones. It made Mel feel uncomfortable as life hadn't dealt with her that kindly.

"I've nowhere carved out the solid career that you have," Mel answered in disconsolate tones from years of struggle to live her dreams. "You know that I tried to make it with my rock and roll band?"

"I remember it so well. I used to buy copies of Melody Maker wondering if I'd see you on the front page," breathed Jo in awestruck tones that harked back to her adolescence. The lookof unabashed admiration in Jo's eyes touched Mel and warmed up her none too certain self-esteem

"I tried to make it," Mel said slowly. "We started out being in the right place at the right time as we ended up as punk rockers. We were into leather as you know so all we needed to do was refurbish our repertoire from rock and roll music. The trouble was that four hormonal women travelling around in the same van the length and breadth of the motorways were going to clash like crazy. You saw me argue with the bass player that night you came round and sat in........"

Mel stopped abruptly as she realised that her freewheeling reminiscences bumped up against the emotional road accident in their lives that caused the parting of their ways. She'd got very emotional at Jo's seeming betrayal which had eaten away at her emotional insides for years and she'd only just considered for the first time in her life what it might have meant for Jo. She desperately needed closure on that traumatic event and both women grabbed at the same chance to achieve this.

"I remember," breathed Jo with unashamed enthusiasm. "That was one of the magic nights of my life. I loved playing with you in a rock and roll band. My cello training happened to fall into place miraculously thanks to the amazing racket you were making on your guitar and the way the drummer was bashing hell out of her kit."

"I felt the same way," Mel answered with a light of enthusiasm in her eyes, old memories and feelings gradually stirring. She felt, once again that she was treading footsteps into virgin white snow and her dearest friend was with her. A wave of emotion swept through her system that Jo still remembered that magic night that way. The next moment, she flinched as she knew only too well half the truth of how the storyline went but she feared to know of Jo's reactions.

"It was only the morning after when some primal fear set in that I was being too daring, that throwing off restraints was risky and dangerous that I ended up letting you down. I've never forgotten the look in your eyes when I did that. I bought a half bottle of whisky from the off licence and got drunk on my own for the first time in my life.” Jo continued in a disconsolate tone of voice. ”It was something I needed to do to forget everything. The only way I could atone for what I'd done to you was never to make any more compromises and betrayals so I became a campaigning barrister."

"And now you've proved yourself to yourself and we meet again. We've come round full circle,so what then?" Mel said with an enigmatic wistful smile on her face. A sudden ray of sunlight shone through the window and illuminated Mel's features.For the first time, Jo took in the other woman's brown, slightly wilfully curly shoulder length hair, her deep brown eyes and slightly curved nose. Lines of age and a hard life had sculptured her face but her normally feisty manner had been shed like a protective garment. She was still the bold, lively woman she had ever been, the one who complemented Jo's natural diffidence. Their eyes made contact.

"It means I don't make the same mistake, second time around," Jo replied crisply.

"That's what I wanted you to say. It means that we'll meet again."

"But of course," Jo said with perfect poise while the old ladies sipped their tea and chattered away inconsequentially to themselves.

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Scene Twelve


Changes were to take place in Karen and Beth's life as well. A letter had been dropped into the outside letter box of their block of flats that Karen opened one day after coming off a particularly busy shift at St Mary's. She had been looking forward to a night in with her lover only the untidy script on the letter brought her up short. The miracle was that it hadn't been addressed to her old address where she had lived with Fenner and been binned by the new occupant or hadn't been readdressed to her present address but to the luxury Docklands flat where she'd lived on her own or the terraced house where she'd done her best to drink herself to death. She knew just who it was who had come back into her life, the one man whose presence couldn't be easily brushed aside. As Beth breezed in, she saw her partner sitting at the table and her fixed gaze was concentrated on the single sheet of paper. She sensed trouble straightaway as her partner was oblivious to everything else.

"What's wrong darling?" she asked. Beth pitched her voice just at the level of tender concern with not too much shading into anxiety.

"My son Ross is the matter," said Karen in a hard, tight tone of voice, obviously seeking control over a multitude of inexpressible feelings. "Does it shock you that I've never mentioned his existence before? That's not how mothers are supposed to behave."

'Those aren't her words,'' Beth thought instantly as she felt for the right words to deal with her lover's deeply ingrained feelings of guilt as she turned away from her and looked out the window. She was seriously worried that her lover was going to martyr herself by shedding her new identity for no good reason. It was the very thing that had made herself real and open to love.

"I never believe in jumping to conclusions," Beth pronounced in a manner that was both definite and reassuring. "It's just that this is a side of you I've never come across before. Perhaps you care to tell me about him so I can understand?"

The kind compassionate words had their effect. It took a little weight off Karen's shoulders as it meant that, whatever her faults as a mother, Beth would hear her sympathetically. She had been edged away from throwing herself off the precipice, emotionally speaking. She could just about cope with the situation if that mellifluous sounding voice continued to wrap itself around her from behind. She would either grab the chance right now to talk about her past or give up forever. As she mentally stepped up to the mark, she found it peculiar to talk about a stranger whose only point of contact with her was that she shared the same body. She did things differently then .

"I'll try, Beth. Ross is so like his father who I met soon after I'd joined the WRAF when I was seventeen at one of the dances that they fixed up, all very incestuous. He was of one of those good-looking irresponsible charmers and I ended up pregnant. I wasn't with him long and ended up bringing up Ross on my own."

Beth felt all the weight of bitterness in her lover's tired voice, of all the struggles she had gone through to get along in this world and being forever defensive as a working mother, that she wasn't being a good parent, that she wasn't 'there for him.'

"I really don't know, now I come to think about it, how I held down a job of work and tried to be a good mother. All the time I was working, I felt that I somehow wasn't 'there for him,'" Karen mused, her eyes looking far back into the past out of the window of her present, confirming her partner's train of thought. "I suppose the best way of describing him is that he has the same big blue eyes as I have and, boy did he learn how to use them. If I couldn't see through the men I lived with, how could I see that Ross would learn to make me responsible for all the failures in his life. Finally, he went off to university, me thinking that he'd learn to stand on his own two feet and get the chance to make something of himself only he fell in with an irresponsible 'perpetual party' set whose parents were rolling in money, fell behind with his coursework and dropped out of university. We had a big fallout over that and I haven't seen him since then, since I don't know how long.........."

Beth felt rather than saw her partner's eyes flit round their flat, and her whole manner became agitated, nervous. It was obvious that Karen was in danger of becoming the archetypal guilt-ridden mother.She had to intervene more definitely before it was too late.

"You have to remember that your son will be a guest in our flat, darling. He won't know the changes you've been going through but he'll just have to get used to it."

Once again, Beth's clear-spoken tones cut through all the strangulating tentacles of feelings of guilt. Karen started pacing back and forth around the flat. The faster she walked, the more she started to walk her feelings out of her system. Finally, she turned round and stopped and the woman that Beth had grown to love was back with her again.

"You're right, Beth. Where the hell was he when I was plastered all over the press as a murderer and those right-thinking ex-neighbours graffitied my front door?" Karen snapped, replacing the silver framed photograph of Beth back on the mantlepiece that she was on the point of concealing in a drawer. She placed the photo on display and looked at it proudly. It was taken in the park and an overhanging branch of a tree held a pattern of green summer leaves to frame her lover's exquisite face and the top half of her shapely body. Finally, Karen smiled for the first time this morning. In that nightmare trip down the ages that she'd just travelled at express speed, somehow Beth had stuck with her.

"I've been in danger of being really stupid. It's not the first time he's experienced being introduced to a new partner. This time around, he's going to meet the both of us, like it or not and he's going to have to realise that you're worth way more than them all of them put together."

"He ought to be very proud of you, the same way I am, darling,"Beth said softly, her arms outstretched waiting for Karen to melt into her arms. The sudden moment of serenity and calm that coursed through Karen's system made that perfectly shaped face, framed by her black bob cut stay forever before her eyes till their lips and bodies met. During their long embrace, Beth rested her hands on her lover's shoulders. She was sure that Karen's neck muscles would have felt way too tight, five minutes ago.She deftly unbuttoned the top few buttons started to gently stroke the soft skin and soothe away her cares. Karen sighed with happiness as she gently embraced her lover.


Finally, a half hour late, there came the ring of the door buzzer and Karen pulled the front door open. Instantly, there was a strained silence.

"Hi, mum," came the medium pitched voice, not much deeper than Karen's own.

Behind her, Beth looked with curiosity at the prospect of Karen's fruitfulness, wondering just what aspect of Karen would appear before her eyes..

The young man was dressed in worn jeans, trainers and a quilted jacket. His light brown hair was tousled, fell over his forehead and curled over his ears. Even the stubble on his face didn't conceal the fresh faced cheeks and his blue eyes..He slung off the rucksack and dropped it on the floor.

"Come in and have a cup of tea," Karen offered, appearing disturbingly relaxed to the young man. He'd expected her to be nervously mumsy as he'd been, coming home frrom university.

"There's a slight problem," came the slightly hesitant voice and downcast eyes. "I need a fiver for the taxi and I'm short of spare change. I'll pay you back at the end of the week, honest."

The glib words struck the wrong note like a tuning fork. They came out far too quickly for Beth's liking. Karen's pursed lips and angry expression showed that she was being conned blind but parental obligation couldn't be denied - on this occasion. She reached for her handbag and stuffed the note in his hand and let Ross nip back to pay the taxi. God knows what he'd said to the taxi driver to be let out in the first place, both women wondered.

"Well, perhaps we can catch up with each other after the past few years," exclaimed Karen with an artificial smile fixed on her face.She didn't want hostilities to start on not the most important issue around.

"Oh you know, mum. I've been doing a bit of this and that. I've been really busy. You know how it is.Have you heard anything of Dad? He did promise he'd keep in touch."

"I'm afraid I've not heard from him in years," Karen said shortly..

"It's a shame," continued Ross, blithly ignoring the fact that he'd never paid a bean in maintenance in years, much less sent a birthday card. "Still, I remember the old days. He used to take me to football matches, right? He was the life and soul of the party."

Karen didn't know how to respond to the stranger's wierdly distorted memory. It angered her that Ross either took for granted or didn't remember all her day to day drudgery while he remembered the very occasional glamour event that suited his father's purposes. Already, she started to clench her fists.Once again, her natural instincts were at odds with her sense of duty, a conflict that she'd thought she'd seen the back of once and for all.

"That's as maybe but I'm more interested in what you're doing.I've not heard from you in ages," Karen said with that maternal concern in her voice that Ross found cloying and defensive. It prompted him to try and blag his way through the situation.

"Let's put it this way, I'm looking at all sorts of ideas. I don't want to end up being swallowed up in the rat race too early."

The sheer vagueness of the reply only got Karen worried more and more. Probably the truth of the matter was that Ross was unemployed and was dossing around. He had never been noted for facing up to his responsibilities. She could recall going down to the local comprehensive and negotiating a schedule with his long suffering year teacher a schedule of him catching up with overdue homework and coursework and spending evenings standing over him till; the work was done. It was only that way that he'd gone into the sixth form. She remembered the huge feeling of relief of having seen him through that perilous turning point in his life. She searched for an alternative topic of conversation and suddenly, Beth appeared out of the narrow perspective of her vision that had been focussed on her son.

"I'm forgetting my manners, Ross. This is Beth Pritchard, my dearest friend, partner and lover. You'll be seeing a lot of her if you stick around here," Karen said with enthusiasm and a touch of defiance. Ross ignored that and carried on the straight line
tracks of past experiences without deviation.

"You don't think she'll last any longer than the others. Let's face it, mum, you use up men like Kleenex tissues," Ross said dismissively in tones that touched a raw nerve with Karen. Her loyalty battled with her determination not to be the first of them to start an argument. Jesus, all these months of living with Beth felt so relaxing and stress free, let alone the high sexual content.

"That's where you're wrong. Anyone can change," Karen said in precisely articulated tones with that precisely raised eyebrow that really wound Ross up. He remembered the way she deployed that dismissive gesture over the years in arguments about what he was supposed to be doing. She went out every day being superwoman and didn't understand feelings, or so he thought.

"For a start, she's anything but one of the smooth talking charmers I've ended up with. Her good word is actually worth something and her kind-heartedness and loyalty can't be beaten. This relationship is for the long haul, I can assure you."

"I'm the lucky one as well, Ross. I'm a high powered journalist for the Independent and, believe you me, your mother sets the bar high in terms of what to jump over," Beth said in quiet tones that unnerved Ross. He'd been used to loud men who shouted the odds and this woman was disturbingly different.

"I'm sure you'll go off mum. It can't last. She can't change the habits of a lifetime," Ross said. It was the first time he'd looked this woman in the eye. Right from the word go, he realised that she wasn't the weak one that he could work his way around.

"Your problem, Ross is that you've been away for a very long time," Beth said in controlled firm tones with no hint of either anger or apology. "We've been together for a year so far but we know how solid we are. I've had other relationships before so I know what I'm talking about. Believe me when I say it that if I could marry your mother, I'd do it. I've never felt that way before."

"You're only talking about women."

"Does that matter? Are straight relationships that different?" Beth cracked back with a forcefulness that impressed Karen if nothing else.She couldn't help thinking that if only she'd had that solid support years ago, perhaps Ross would have turned out differently.

"We're about to have dinner, Ross. You'll be most welcome to stay if you want to," Karen intervened, assuming the voice of reason.If a mother can't feed her child when he calls round, what can she do for him, her guilty conscience reproached her in the unquestioning words of mothers down the ages.

Ross gave a surly nod in the manner of modern teenagers. He hadn't said to his mother that regular meals and eating at the table had been a thing of the past for a long time.


The two women bustled and clattered away in the kitchen while the young man lounged on the settee. He did give mum full marks for the cool, wide screen TV and he clicked on the remote control to watch daytime television. In the kitchen, the two women winced at the choice of programme which was the mindless rubbish which they both loathed. Beth was conflicted between her growing dislike for this inconsiderate young man, her reluctance to speak her mind for Karen's sake as he was, after all, her son, and the shrinking feeling that their life together was being intruded on and the uneasy suspicion that, having avoided the life of 'happy families' perhaps she was being too prissy. it all built up inside her as she drove her favourite kitchen knife through the layers of the onion she was slicing. Eventually, the words she had been suppressing burst forth.

"How long is he staying, Karen?"
"I'm getting as pissed off with that spoilt brat as you are. Leave it to me."

It was when dinner was served that the first sparks started to fly.

"Pass the meal over, mum. This programme is great," ordered Ross with that particular tone which caused the words 'male arrogance' to light up in Karen's overheating mind. In that moment, her feelings of outrage spilled over the top of the dam she had constructed to try and make peace.

"You'll have your dinner at the table, like we always do,"Karen said in frosty tones. Instantly, she regretted her choice of words as realised that it was the worst possible argument she could have used.

"I'm not a child anymore. I'm used to doing my own thing," came the sulky response. It was too much of a drag to tear his concentration away from the TV screen.

"Perhaps at your flat but not here. When in Rome, you do as the Romans do. Besides," added Karen getting seriously worried by the way she was talking in cliches. "I remember how clumsy you are and eating dinner at the table is in avoiding you spilling food on the carpet. We're houseproud, you know."

"Houseproud? That says everything I've always hated about you, mum," Ross replied in aggressive tones. "You've always been ambitious to get to the top and so you have, wing governor at Larkhall prison."

"Don't you read the papers or listen to the news, Ross?" Karen said in an ominously quiet tone of voice. Beth despaired at this lad's crass insensitivity and wondered just how far her partner could retain her iron self-control. Ross just took this to be a simple question and, no, he didn't get involved in something as boring and pointless as the news.

"No mum. Should I?"

"If you'd followed the news, you'd have heard that I was accused of a hit and run murder. I lost my job and I lost my flat that I'd worked for. My car was stuck in a police pound. I lost my job and ended up on the dole in a crummy flat with ignorant bigots painting murderer on my front door. Only because really kind friends stuck with me and fought it out in the Old Bailey was I acquitted and the real murderer found. I'm only back on my feet and, yes, thanks to Beth and me getting a job as a nurse in St Mary's hospital. My career in the prison service has been wrecked even if I wanted my job back after I was dumped on. I warn you not to ever give me any self-pityiing crap, Ross, or you'll regret it."

Though Karen reined in her natural tendency to scream and yell at her son, a jolt of electric tension flashed across the room. Oh help,mum's changed, Ross thought inwardly.At this moment, his phone started bleeping. He grabbed at it and heard the message he'd been waiting for. He got to his feet and grabbed at the nearest excuse to hand.

"I'd better get some fresh air. There's a friend I wanted to see. Be back later."

With that, he scuttled out of the door, leaving his bag on the ground. Just like Ross, Karen thought, leave everyone making guessing games, just like your father . Seconds after the door closed and the tension was still flashing round the room, Karen's phone bleeped and she saw that it was Nikki. Thank God, Karen thought to herself, they both need some of Nikki's level headed thinking.

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Scene Thirteen


A/N: Figures from the Howard League of Penal Reform

"Am I glad to hear you,"Nikki heard Karen exclaim down the phone. She was very touched to hear her friend give such a ringing endorsement of the value of her company, even if it were from afar. "You couldn't have picked a better time to phone than right now."

"Er, I haven't phoned for any particular reason," Nikki confessed almost guiltily. "I've been working away at home on a work project and I got bored so I thought I'd phone you up for a chat. What's happened?"

It dawned on Nikki that there might be another reason for Karen's heartfelt greeting that had nothing to do with her. She mentally filed away her delegated area of planning for the Howard League of Prison Reform AGM as something that could be dealt with better after a change of mental scenery. Helen picked up the vibrations as if she'd tuned in to the radiowaves and came out of what was going to be the bedroom for their baby. She laid her arms on Nikki's shoulders, letting her fingers trail down to the bare patch of skin underneath her unbuttoned shirt, her natural inquisitiveness combining with her tender-heartedness towards the world in general.

"I really don't want to lay a bad trip on you just when you are prospective parents but we're just recovering from the visit by my son."

"To be honest, I never realised you had a son," Nikki confessed, speaking before giving herself a proper chance to think. She felt rather than heard the shocked response down the other end of the phone. Well done, Nikki, speak first and think later as usual. Her heart was in her stomach as she scrabbled around for words to make up for her blunder.
"I mean, let's put it this way. I know you went through a whole load of shit with Fenner and he wasn't the only bastard ex in your life. Yvonne once clued me in to her own bad experiences."

"I went out for a drink with Yvonne once. Guess women talk," Karen said drily, knowing just how much Nikki could get to know.

" I assumed you wanted to draw a line under the past and live life to the fullest with Beth. I guess you don't choose your sons, or not normally."

"You're all right, Nikki. I've only had my shortcomings as a mother rubbed in my face by my waster of a son. He's just gone out and left his stuff. I haven't got the foggiest idea if he'll come back in an hour's time, in the middle of the night or whatever."

"Jesus, is that what Helen and I have to look forward to? I mean I'm sorry if you're being messed around."

"I keep trying to tell myself that if only I had a partner like Helen, he'd amount to myself but in the middle of the night, I can't help waking up in the middle of the night and think differently."

Nikki fell silent at the way her friends final words were edged with desolation. She didn't know what to say that weren't well meaning empty platitudes. Of course she knew that Beth would do her level best to comfort and support Karen but she, Nikki, Helen and all their friends were painfully short on practical experience of what to do with teenagers going off the rails where the ineradicable suspicion remained that somehow, something one had done or failed to have done to avert it. No one knew better than Nikki about assuming personal responsibility but this was a strength only where there was practical and emotional experience to draw upon. For the first time, it crossed her mind how her parents might have felt when she'd been sent down for murder. She made a mental note to talk to them next time she and Helen met them.

"I wish I could say something to make you feel better," Nikki said at last, feeling totally inadequate.

"I may need your help in a more practical fashion Nikki," Karen replied, consciously trying to be positive."I might need a bouncer or someone who can give him an earful if I can't deal with him. I get a nasty feeling about what he might be getting up to. You get back to your project and keep Helen company. I'll deal with him- somehow," came Karen's parting message. "It's been nice talking to you. See you around."

"I'll do my best if you need help, Meanwhile take care, Karen," Nikki urged softly.

As Nikki put her phone down, her mind was inevitably being dragged back to the depressing set of figures in front of her on the screen of her recently acquired laptop computer. By 2003, the average number of men, women and children in prison was set to rise to in excess of 79,000 instead of the previously projected figure of 73,000. It had risen in inexorable stages from a figure of 42,000 in 1993. She cast her mind back to the period when she had featured as an item on these statistics and remembered first entering Larkhall Prison in May 1997 and only on Fri Nov 24th 2000 did she cease to be a statistic. Nikki smiled cynically to herself, having recalled having been held on remand for months before then but perhaps, to the compilers of statistics, being held 'on remand' didn't count.

As she thought further about the problem, biro in hand, she gazed out beyond the walls of their comfortable flat, over the rooftops of London and into the prisons of modern day Britain.

She couldn't help feeling that the worthy education programmes were going to get squeezed by the sheer logistics of prisons whose every square inch of space was going to get used up and the basics of locking up prisoners would take over, not by any reactionary plan but by sheer 'necessity.'

"What's on your mind babes?" a soft Scottish voice said behind her. "I can tell by the way you're fiddling with your biro that you've a hell of a lot on your mind."

Nikki gave out a satisfied sigh as she felt Helen's shapely fingers stroke her tense shoulders lightly and seek to massage the tension out of her body. It wasn't a direct answer to her problem but the simple physical comfort gave her the feeling that she might not be banging her head against a brick wall. She leaned her head backwards and the back of her head rested against her partner's stomach. Helen crouched down and her hand wound themselves round Nikki's body while she nuzzled the back of Nikki's neck.The sensation of physical comfort reached deeply into her soul, something which she had grown to openly acknowledge. These days, she never minded being the soppy type- she could easily live with it.

"Hmmn, I needed that darling," she murmured. "Let's just stay like this awhile."

Very gently, Helen rocked Nikki in her arms and let the peace and quiet surround them. There was no hurry in their lives right now. Eventually, Nikki turned round to face her partner and laid her right hand in Helen's.

"I'd better tell it as it is. I've got a work related problem and the answer just might be up your street."

"How can I help?" Helen said, putting her hand to her mouth . She had thought that Nikki was getting on so well in her job. "I'll do my best."

"It's not what you think.I get on great with the gang at my place, especially Paul. It's a technical matter. You don't mind dusting down your Home Office hat and putting it on just for once?"

There was a pleading look in Nikki's eyes that Helen picked up on straightaway as she pointed to the problem. There had been an unspoken agreement between the two women that Nikki would be given her head in her studies of the prison system while Helen would give emotional encouragement. Nikki had respected Helen's strong feeling that she had never wanted to touch the prison service with a bargepole and besides, was moving forward with her own career.
"You must be feeling really desperate to want my help." she said impulsively and then, spotting her partner's raised eyebrows and look of disappointment in her eyes, leaped onwards to clarify. "I know and you know about me not wanting to interfere. You tell me all, babes."
Nikki smiled and clicked on the mouse. The screen came to life and a neat set of columns and rows replaced the screensaver. It showed consecutive years prison population, neatly broken down into categories and totals set out at the bottom. They told their grim story.
"Shit. I didn't know things were getting that bad," exclaimed Helen.Long forgotten memories came back to her mind of how positively she'd started off her second spell of work for the Prison Service. She remembered driving her Peugeot up the Motorway, her clipboard and her finely tuned perspectives at the ready. She hadn't been solely inspired by tender images of her lover, languishing behind bars at Larkhall and waiting for her return. The thrill of the chase in hunting down unwelcome facts and sweeping away the cobwebs of musty secrets had driven her onwards.
"I did a study once for the Home Office of why there were so many women lifers in Britain compared with the rest of Europe. Part of my study dealt with similar problems in reoffending . You remember when I got the job as a Home Office professional, I only made infrequent visits to Larkhall to begin with. I put my heart and soul into slogging round Holloway, Larkhall and round some of the prisons outside the London area. The Home Office thanked me very nicely for my report. On the strength of that, I got my promotion and started up the Lifer's Unit at Larkhall to put my ideas into practice," Helen spoke eagerly, fond memories of that period giving her the feeling of being personally validated.
"That was my first thought," said Nikki in a flat tone of voice. "If there is anything out there in which I have total confidence, it's you and your report.That's where I hit the first problem head on."
Helen took in a deep breath as the horrible truth started to sink in. She remembered as if it were yesterday the smiles of the smart suited Home Office minister who had thanked her so profusely for her 'pioneering work' her 'innovative approach' and how she'd 'pulled no punches.' After all the misery and isolation of all the backstabbing bastards at Larkhall Prison, she'd been so thankful for acceptance of her progressive politics. She'd really thought she was making a mark, that she had really been getting somewhere in her life.
"What the bloody hell's happened, Nikki? I put my heart and soul into it. I spent so many nights here at this very table, writing my report and polishing it up.I wanted so much for it to be objective, like the very best damned essay I'd ever done in my life. An A+ isn't unreasonable to expect. I could even describe the look of the manilla folder I handed in. It doesn't make sense for me to get my promotion out of it, to be given the chance of practically implementing my conclusions if it can't be used as a resource. I'm not claiming I should win the Nobel Peace prize for it. All I ask for is some acknowledgement, not for myself but for others."
Helen's ragged, unshaped words tore at Nikki's large heart. She knew that her lover had strong feelings of being done down, of not getting justice for herself only she had transformed this to a strong desire to fight injustice everywhere. She could have become bitter and selfish but her tender nature had resisted that.What was most shocking as Nikki saw the scene through Helen's eyes was the combination of Helen's touching pleasure and joy at public acknowledgement not seeing the cynical smiles that had resolved to bury the report. It was Nikki's turn to wrap her arms round her lover and clasp her head to her breasts.
"You're talking about the Home Office, darling, the same organisation that shredded Karen's file on Fenner and the same organisation that John and his friends are battling with. Think of the stories he's told us. That pile is an accumulation of ancient wickedness, buried secrets and the level of low conniving that even we can't conceive of. Thinking of the whole thing in cold blood, you were shunted sideways out of harm's way. God knows your promotion was down to sheer bloody hard work, professionalism and putting yourself out on the line but what happened was only the flipside of how Karen was done over."
Nikki's soft, tender words and the soft feel of her arms all made Helen know how fiercely her lover was batting for her but gently telling the truth as well.Once time and events had stripped her illusions from her, there was no point in trying to plaster them back into place with well-meaning lies. Nikki felt Helen's dumb nod against the feel of her body. Finally, she raised her head and Nikki ever so softly kissed the tears out of her eyes.
"So where do we go from here?"
"The facts are that I can't get my hands on the bloody thing. I've tried, Paul has tried but the Home Office has stonewalled. Short of there being a burglary or a revolution, we're stuck."
Helen reached over to the mouse and brought up the screen again with the figures. She had to admit that there wasn't a ghost of a chance of reconstructing the report.Her memory wasn't that good. There was as much chance of recreating an Egyptian urn from shattered fragments in an archaeological dig.
"It's the rates of reoffending that's starting to get to me," Nikki continued. "I know there are big dangers of getting carried away with facts and figures, wide screen academic treatises that drag you in and really make you feel that you're up with them. That's why I've always wanted to get off my arse, out of the office and go round prisons. I've seen things with my own eyes, got to talk to prisoners and prison officers and used my own ability to relate to people, going back to basics as it were."
Helen sat transfixed by Nikki's words. It brought home so vividly how Nikki was walking in the footprints of the path that she'd once trod. It reinforced the powerful bonds between them.

"We're going to have to bite the bullet and see if there is any research out there that will help. I don't think I'm unique in working this area of activity. I'm not wrong am I?!"

It didn't take rocket science for Helen to deduce from her partner's slumped shoulders and air of despondency that she might not be so unique after all. She waited patiently for her partner to reply.

"You might not realise it, darling, but I've searched the furthest reaches of the net and, believe it or not, there isn't anything out there. You might have thought that my own organisation would turn up something but unfortunately, the focus has been on the big picture or small scale studies and what I need has disappeared into a black hole or doesn't exist. That's what has been getting to me."

Helen's mind was now whizzing full speed away from the biology of pregnancy and what sort of mothers they would be. There must be an answer if the two of them devoted the brain power to it.

"Let's think laterally. I'll get it if I push hard enough at it," mused Helen, a faraway look in her eyes. Nikki squeezed her hand in silent support.

"I've got it, I've got it. What about the Universities? There must be some young, idealistic campaigner who has done some sort of study."

"I thought that students spend all their money getting obliterated every night of the week," muttered Nikki cynically, on the rare occasional when a dark mood swept over her.

"You mean, like female cons spend all their time scrratching their eyes out, watch colour telly in their cells and have a cushy time of it," retorted Helen, trying to get her partner to snap out of the despondant mood she'd sunk into. Nikki had the grace to blush at being picked up on her carelessly expressed unthinking prejudice. As she thought about it, a flood of embarrassment swept through her.

"Touche," she conceded. "That was a shitty thing to say. OK, so if you're so smart, is there any way I can cut down on wearing out my shoes in traipsing the corridors of academia?"

Nikki's superficially cynical edge to her question did not deceive Helen. She knew that her partner was sold on the idea and genuinely wanted ideas on how to avoid timewasting. Memories of studying for her own degree taught her that Nikki's concern wasn't misplaced. Silently she held out a packet of cigarettes to Nikki who accepted the offer gratefully. The fact that she hadn't touched a cigarette all morning was definitely not because she was wanting to pack up smoking. Helen took over on the computer, applied her lateral thinking and finally brought up interesting details of a certain Ms Kristine Thorne.

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