Determined to Fail
G. L. Dartt
Saturday afternoons were Helen Stewart’s favorite part of the week.
She would have lunch sent up from Libertà, the bistro located on the ground floor of the building containing her flat, and after leisurely dining on pasta, accompanied by a fine wine from their private selection, she would retire to the ensuite and the large Jacuzzi tub. There she would take a long, lovely bath in water scented with lilac and heather, the same scents her mother loved so much. Then she'd draw the blinds of the bedroom windows, making it dim, and light several candles, before crawling naked between the silk sheets where she would recline, her senses alive with keen anticipation.
Then she would wait.
Around three o’clock, give or take five or ten minutes, the outer door of her flat would open and she would hear footsteps cross the polished tile floor of the foyer and hallway to the loo, bypassing the bedroom. Helen could usually tell the mood simply by the sound of those steps. Sometimes they were heavy and weary, indicating it had been a rough day, and Helen would need all her patience and understanding. Sometimes, they were quick and light; full of energy, and Helen could expect to be a trifle exhausted come Monday morning. Most of the time, they were simply firm and purposeful, glad to be home and eager to join Helen for the rest of their weekend together.
But first, there was always the stop in the bathroom where the shower would be used, washing away the lingering odor of cooking oil and replacing it with the fresh scent of soap and a natural spicy fragrance that was uniquely her own. Then she'd appear in the doorway, dressed in a powder blue, silk robe, and look at her with that expression of total love and commitment that Helen could feel all the way to the very center of her soul.
“Hiya, Nikki.”
“Hello, darling.” Nikki Wade leaned against the frame of the door and smiled lazily. “God, I love coming home on Saturdays. There’s definitely something to be said about the prospect of finding you in bed waiting for me, and knowing I have you all to myself until Monday morning.”
Helen drew up her knee, feeling the pleasant ache between her thighs intensify. “Are you going to stand there ‘til then?”
Nikki’s smiled widened. “Possibly. I’m transfixed by the view.”
“Get your arse over here, Wade.”
“Why, Miss Stewart, is that an order?”
Nikki regarded her with impertinence, very reminiscent of the inmate she had once been. As a resident of HMP Larkhall, Nikki had fought passionately against the prison system from behind bars. As governor of G-wing, Helen had fought equally as passionately. In the end, they had been bowed but not beaten, with Nikki freed on appeal, and Helen handing in her resignation. That was more than a year ago, and a lot had changed for both, in the most positive of ways.
Helen firmed her jaw, wanting to appear as if Nikki’s insolence didn’t affect her. In truth, she was so completely aroused that she found it hard to breathe. Then she smiled and flipped back the sheet, leaving her completely exposed. With deliberation, she drew her knuckles down the slope of her right breast, brushing over her nipple that hardened instantly. From beneath lowered lids, she saw Nikki’s eyes widen as she shifted uncomfortably in the doorway.
“Of course, I can always start without you,” Helen added slyly. “And if you insist on being stubborn, I can finish without you, too.”
Nikki exhaled loudly. “Always have to play the power game on me, don’t you?”
Helen laughed. “Just get over here, will you?”
Nikki smiled and slipped out of her robe, tossing it over a nearby chair. Nude, she took a running leap across the room and landed on the bed, not quite on top of Helen, but close enough that she could snag her with one arm even as Helen shrieked and tried to roll away.
“Ordering me into bed one minute and then trying to squirm away the next. I wish you’d make up your mind.”
Helen surrendered instantly and wrapped her arms around Nikki’s neck, pressing full length against her. “I was afraid you were going to flatten me.”
“Who do you think you’re sleeping with? Felicity?” Nikki nuzzled her neck. “Besides, I thought you liked me on top.”
Helen caught her breath at the wave of pleasure that surged through her. It was sheer heaven having all the warm skin and gentle curves against her body. “I do like you on top,” she murmured, kissing her passionately. “Also on the bottom, and on the side.”
Nikki laughed and kissed her back and then both groaned aloud as they heard the phone ring. “Let the machine get it,” Helen said breathlessly.
“My thoughts exactly.”
But they both listened as the last ring echoed and the machine came on. The voice made Helen sit bolt upright, staring wildly at the phone.
“Hello? Helen? This is your Aunt Moira. I hope I have the right number. Anyway, please call me. It’s about your father.” She gave the number and hung up before Helen managed to scramble across the bed and grab the receiver.
Fingers shaking, she punched out the number, waiting anxiously as it rang. Distantly, she was aware of Nikki pulling on her robe behind her, before retrieving Helen’s robe and draping it across her shoulders. Sitting down next to her on the side of the bed, Nikki slipped an arm around her waist as they both waited.
“Hello?”
“Aunt Moira?”
“Helen? I just called you.”
“Yes, I know. I couldn’t quite catch the call.” Helen inhaled slowly. “What about dad?” From the hesitation, Helen knew it was bad news. “Moira?”
“It was his heart, Helen. Miriam found him in his study when she arrived with his lunch. It must have happened sometime last night.”
The phone fell from nerveless hands onto the carpeted floor as Helen bent over. At her side, Nikki scooped up the receiver, spoke a few moments into it and then hung up. Helen wasn’t weeping. One had to breathe to weep and she couldn’t seem to get any air into her lungs. Nikki bent over as well, arm across Helen’s back, squeezing her lightly.
“Helen? Darling? Talk to me.”
Helen shook her head. Talking took breathing as well.
“It’s all right,” Nikki said, sounding a bit helpless. “It’s going to be all right.”
With a sudden gasp, Helen’s body finally remembered how to inhale as she straightened. “There’s just me, now,” she said in a tiny voice. “I’m all alone.”
“You’re not alone, darling,” Nikki told her firmly. “I’m always going to be here.”
“Oh, Nikki.” And with that, it all let go inside Helen, coming out in a gush of tears, mucus, and an inexplicable childish terror. Suddenly, her grownup self seemed a million miles away and all that was left was the little girl who had lost her mummy, and now had lost her daddy and it wasn’t fair, oh God, it wasn’t fair.
Nikki wrapped both arms around her and held her tight as they rocked together, whispering words that were incomprehensible, but were soothing and loving which were all they needed to be now. Finally, finally, Helen’s initial overwhelming grief eased ever so slightly, and the sobs died away. She’d made a complete mess of Nikki’s robe, snot and tears leaving a huge stain in the silk material over her shoulder. She patted her arm weakly.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
“Don’t be silly, Helen, that’s what it’s for,” Nikki told her, kissing her temple. “I just couldn’t reach the tissues from here.”
Belatedly, Helen turned to look behind her at the box of tissues on the nightstand and reached out for one, using it to wipe her face, and then took another one. “God, I didn’t even like him,” she confessed, feeling guilty as she said it, even though it was the complete truth.
“But you loved him, Helen, and that’s what hurts.”
And the tears came again, less desperate but more profound, trickling steadily down her face. “I can’t make my peace with him now. I thought I’d have the opportunity, but it didn’t turn out that way.”
“It’ll be all right,” Nikki said again. Possibly, she thought that if she said it enough, it would eventually become true. Helen hoped she was right.
“I never told him…” she trailed off.
“What? About us?” Nikki nodded soberly. “Probably just as well. He might have had to take a stand, being a minister and all, and that wouldn’t have done anyone any good at all.”
“I’m not ashamed of us, Nikki,” Helen said earnestly. “I want you to know that.”
“I know, Helen. It’s just one of those things.” Nikki shrugged. “It’s family. Christ, I can’t say anything about it considering mine. At least you still talked to him on the phone every now and then. I don’t even know if my parents are dead or alive.”
Helen sniffed and rubbed her nose with a tissue. “Maybe you’re better off.”
“Maybe.” Nikki squeezed her a little. “Listen, your aunt said the funeral is Tuesday. I’ll arrange for Trisha to look in on the bistro every so often, but Kate can handle the management of it for a few extra days. We’ll drive up tomorrow and stay in a hotel. That’ll give you a day in between to do whatever needs to be done. We’ll come back on Wednesday.”
“God.” Helen felt a headache throb at her temples.
She had always considered herself quite competent in a crisis, but Nikki was achingly practical in these kinds of emotional situations, immediately considering all the necessary details and the most efficient way to handle them. Helen liked to distance herself from any emotional overtones and approach problems rationally. The trouble was when her own emotions were involved, rationality tended to go out the window.
Knowing that Nikki would take care of everything was a relief; a weight lifting off her shoulders. All Helen had to do was deal with the reality of not having a father anymore, and despite the estrangement that had existed since she’d left for university, it remained a harsh reality to face.
“Unless…” Nikki faltered. “Maybe you don’t want me to go with you. It’s okay if you don’t. I know a funeral isn’t the best time to be introducing your female partner to the family.”
Immediately, Helen turned into her, seeking out the warmth of her body. “Of course, I do,” she said huskily. “I won’t be able to get through this without you, Nikki.”
Nikki kissed her gently. “Then I’ll be there.” She glanced around. “We should pack.” She released Helen after another quick hug and rose from the bed. Moving over to the closet, she pulled open the double doors.
Helen sighed. “I need to call Della, leave a message on her voicemail about what’s going on.” She rubbed her forehead, thinking about what else she had to do. “I’ll ask Dominic to cover for that report I have due. Shit, I just remembered, I have a meeting with Thomas and Shell on Tuesday. I’ll need to reschedule.”
Nikki didn’t respond, half her body concealed in the closet as she dug out their seldom-used luggage from the back. Helen sighed. Nikki had just hired more people at the bistro so she could spend her weekends with Helen. There was even the intention of taking a holiday at some point with the better weather coming on.
Somehow, neither of them thought their first trip away would be to Scotland, and that it would be for anything but a holiday.
They had breakfast at Libertà while Nikki offered Kate some last minute advice and made sure she had all the phone numbers where they could be reached, including the hotel where they’d be staying. After checking one last time with Trisha and Claire, who would be taking care of their flat, they were on the road. They could have flown up, but Helen insisted on taking the M1. Nikki suspected she needed the seven hours the drive would take to further prepare for her return home after so many years. Taking the Peugeot rather than Nikki’s Porsche offered more legroom and more space for their luggage in the boot. That left Nikki to play passenger, not her favorite pursuit, but she understood why Helen wanted it this way. And to her surprise, Helen was unusually garrulous on the drive, especially once they had left the city and were traveling through Northern England where there wasn’t much to see but motorway.
She talked about what it was like to grow up in her village, what her childhood had been like, and what she remembered about her mother. Most of it was new information for Nikki, and she did her best to stay quiet and just listen, only asking a question now and again to prompt Helen when it seemed as if she’d run out of things to say on one subject or another. It made Nikki realize just how little she knew about Helen’s past, and how incredibly precious it was to hear it now. She even talked about her father, and Nikki began to realize that he probably hadn’t been such a bad guy, just someone who didn’t have a clue how to be both mother and disciplinarian father to a strong-willed child who became an even more willful teenager. She supposed she’d never know for sure, now.
They stopped for lunch at a city in just shy of the border, finding a small café on the outskirts, though Helen didn’t eat much. After they finished and were enjoying a final tea, Nikki found her attention caught by a woman sitting a few tables away. She was seated opposite a thin, weedy sort of blond man, and neither of them looked particularly happy with each other. At first, Nikki didn’t know what had caused her to prolong the look except for the fact that the woman was very attractive. Then she realized she was the spitting image of Helen, a little older, with longer, darker hair, but undeniably similar in looks. Eyebrow lifting, she nudged Helen who was digging in her handbag for her purse.
“Hey, do you know her?”
Helen looked up briefly, and then glanced over her shoulder at Nikki’s gesture. For a moment, she just stared and then suddenly smiled, the first one Nikki had seen from her today. “Oh, my God, that has to be Alex.” She looked back at Nikki. “She’s one of my cousins on my mother’s side. I haven’t seen her since we were teenagers. Would you give me a moment?”
“Of course.” Bemused, Nikki sipped her tea and watched as Helen went over to the table and talked to the woman for a moment. The longer she observed, the more Nikki’s instincts told her that this Alex was a police officer. She wasn’t dressed as such, but there was just something in the way she moved and spoke. When Helen motioned her over to be introduced, Nikki felt a distinct flicker of edginess that she supposed she would always feel while in the presence of the old Bill.
“This is my partner, Nikki Wade.” Helen said it with a sort of pride that warmed Nikki through and through. “Nikki, this is Alex, my cousin, and her friend, Gabriel.”
“Hiya,” Nikki said, shaking hands with both. Up close, the resemblance between Alex and Helen was even more striking. After a few more pleasantries, they made their good-byes and as they made their way to the counter where Helen paid their bill, Nikki leaned over, dropping her voice into a low register. “Is she a copper?”
Helen glanced at her. “Detective Inspector. Is it important?”
Nikki shook her head, satisfied that her instincts had won out once again. “No, I was just curious.” She glanced out the windows of the café, noticing that the weather had darkened and a fine mist was falling. “Want me to drive from here?”
Helen followed her look and then offered her a grateful expression. “Thanks, I’m a little tired.”
Nikki suspected it wasn’t merely physical, though Helen had slept little the night before, tossing and turning restlessly. Emotionally, she was simply drained. Gently, Nikki took the keys from her and slipped into the driver’s seat, adjusting it for her longer legs and higher view in the mirrors. As they pulled back onto the motorway she glanced over at Helen and saw that she was already huddled in her seat, head resting on the window, eyes closed. Nikki smiled and gradually sped up. Helen was a casual driver, almost careless at times, while Nikki drove with a smooth professional skill that, in Helen’s opinion, was usually too fast for comfort. But so long as Helen was sleeping, she couldn’t say anything about Nikki seeing just how well the little red Peugeot could handle at speed under adverse conditions.
She was pleasantly surprised, finding it quite respectable considering it wasn’t anything like the high-performance sports car she was used to. They arrived in the small Scottish village around mid-afternoon and Nikki drove immediately over to the hotel. Once a 15th Century castle, it had been made over into a luxury resort, one that offered the finest in accommodations. When she nudged Helen awake, she looked around, completely confused.
“I thought we were staying at the B&B,” she said as she got out of the car. Frowning, she stared up at the high, imposing walls that had stood for over six hundred years.
Nikki shot her a look as she pulled their luggage from the boot. “The circumstances may not be the best, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be comfortable.”
“The B&B would be a lot cheaper.”
“So would the local hostel, but I’m not going to stay there either,” Nikki said pleasantly. She reached out and squeezed Helen’s shoulder lightly. “Let me take care of it, darling.”
Helen hesitated, and then nodded. Nikki suspected it was because she was too tired to muster an argument as she would have under other circumstances, not even when they registered and were led up to one of the hotel’s finest suites. She just shot a look at Nikki, shook her head with pursed lips and remained silent as Nikki tipped the porter generously. Nikki was aware of her gaze though, and once he had left, she went over and slipped her arms around her rigid body.
“It’s going to be a rough couple of days for you,” she said softly as she rubbed her back lightly. “If there’s any way I can make it easier, even if it’s only to shell out a few quid on a comfy bed in a nice hotel, then I’m going to do it. If there’s anything else you need or want, you just tell me and I’ll move heaven and earth to get it for you.”
“Ah, Nikki.” Helen breathed her name and abruptly relaxed, surrendering to the embrace as she slipped her arms around Nikki’s waist and nestled her head on her shoulder. “Why are you so good to me?”
“Must be my perverse nature,” Nikki muttered. “I should be knocking you about, I suppose, but for some reason, this seems to work better.”
Helen made a small sound, partly amused, but mostly one of weary acceptance of how much she needed Nikki in this moment of complete vulnerability. “It’s hard to think,” she confessed quietly. “I feel like I’ve been in a fog since I heard the news.”
“That’s natural,” Nikki said, rubbing her cheek lightly against Helen’s temple. “It was a big shock. Let’s stay in tonight. We can order dinner to be sent up, go to bed early and then tackle it all tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, that sounds good. I should call Moira, tell her we’re here, but I can do that after we eat.” Helen shook her head, looking fretful. “I’m not really hungry yet, Nikki.”
“It’s only four,” Nikki said, checking the time on the bedside clock over Helen’s head. She released her embrace, reaching down to take her hands. “Let’s have a lie down before dinner.”
She tugged gently and Helen went with her as they left the sitting area and moved into the bedroom where a luxurious four-poster bed waited. Slipping off their shoes, they stretched out on the fluffy duvet. Helen snuggled up against her side and Nikki wasn’t quite sure what to say to her as she pulled her close with her right arm. She knew that whatever Helen was feeling, mere words couldn’t ease it.
Listening to Helen’s soft respiration, Nikki tilted her head slightly so she could see her face. Helen wasn’t asleep, merely staring blankly across the room at nothing. Nikki brushed her lips over her forehead, loving her so much and wanting nothing more than to banish all the hurt.
“Nikki?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“I should’ve told him about us, even if he couldn’t accept it.”
“Too late now.” Nikki closed her eyes in dismay as the words escaped her lips before she could stop them. “Christ, Helen, I didn’t mean to say it that way…”
“No, you’re right,” Helen said ruefully. “It is too late.” She lifted so that she could look into Nikki’s eyes. “But it’s not too late to tell you that this past year has been the best time of my life.”
“It’s been the best time of my life, too,” Nikki said softly, drawing her fingertip along Helen’s cheek. “When I think about where I’ve been, and where I am now…well, I could try to describe it but I’d end up sounding like a character from a Mills & Boon.”
Helen smiled faintly. “It’s a good thing for you that I like my women soppy.”
“Good thing,” Nikki agreed, staring into her eyes.
She adored Helen’s eyes, so incredibly expressive. Their green depths could go from shimmering pools of adoration to angry coldness to longing shadows of surrender, and sometimes all within the space of a mere minute. They could look at her from across the room and it was as if they could reach in and touch her soul. Other times, they burned her with a searing gaze that made her heart quicken and her groin throb with desire. And sometimes, they made her cringe because she knew someone was about to be blasted with their fury, and it was often her, though less frequently in recent times than had happened at Larkhall. Right now, they displayed equal measures of pain and love, heartache and joy, and the profound confusion that such contrasting emotions were causing her.
Bending her head, Helen kissed Nikki tenderly, brushing over her lips and tasting of sweetness and surprisingly, a tiny hint of desire. Nikki responded tentatively, letting Helen know that she was more than willing, but not pushing in case she was misinterpreting the kiss. Helen immediately deepened it, her tongue briefly touching Nikki’s, but then just as quickly, she broke it off, pulling away.
“Sorry,” she murmured. “I don’t…I’m not sure what it is I want right now.”
“It’s all right, Helen.” Nikki nuzzled her gently, wanting to surround her with her love. “Sometimes the body wants one thing and the mind another. I’m here either way.”
Helen sighed. “I knew life was going too well for me. I suppose I’ve been too satisfied with myself lately.”
“Don't think like that, darling. This isn’t a punishment or because you deserved to be hurt, it's just how life is, and death's a part of that.” Nikki paused, trying to think of the right thing to say. “If anything, this should allow you to appreciate all the blessings you have even more.”
“God, you really are an optimist, aren't you? I don’t think it’s really struck me until now.”
“Does that bother you?”
“Christ, no, it may be all that gets me through.”
Nikki smiled. “Well, if it's any consolation, I always know how to give you a hard time whether you need it or not.”
“Believe me, I'll never forget that,” Helen said wryly.
She unbuttoned Nikki’s shirt, and slipped her hand through the opening to rest it lightly on her stomach. Not as anything sexual, Nikki recognized, but because Helen wanted to feel the warmth of her skin under her palm. Gently, she stroked Helen’s hair, running her fingers languidly through it, knowing the familiar caress was soothing to her. As she lay there, she thought of all those times at Larkhall when she had longed to comfort Helen, all those times when she’d been forced to stand by helplessly, unable to do anything while Helen was hurt or being hurt.
“Remember when your tosser of a fiancé rolled up at Larkhall and set fire to his wedding suit?”
“Sean?” Helen started slightly. “What made you think of him?”
“Nothing, exactly, just that it was one of those times when I wished I could have done more for you, even if I’m not sure what it would have been. I’m so very glad I can be here for you now.”
“Ah, Nikki.” It was impossible for Helen to physically move any closer than she already was, but she did her best, burrowing her face in to the warm hollow of Nikki’s neck and shoulder. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too. We’ll find a way through this, Helen. I promise.”
The morning saw them driving through the center of the village, with Helen pointing out the various sights. She didn’t think Nikki was particularly enamored with either the monuments or the great stone buildings dating back to the 15th century but she nodded and made appropriate sounds at all the right places. Helen supposed she kept chattering because she felt a little nervous about seeing her Aunt Moira again.
Her father’s sister had always been considered a bit of the black sheep in the family, a world traveler who had finally settled down in the same place that she had seemingly disdained all those years. Helen’s strongest memories of her was of a large, personable woman with high piles of dark hair who periodically swept into their lives and then, just as quickly, swept out of them, leaving behind exotic presents, a scent of jasmine and the lingering disapproval of her brother. Helen’s mother had liked her, though. Helen remembered that Moira could always make Isobel Stewart laugh, long and loud in a way that caused even her dour husband to join in. Even toward the end, when Isobel was wraith-thin with pain etching every line of her ravaged face, Moira could still generate a smile and chuckle with her stories.
For that reason alone, Helen was prepared to embrace her fully, even if she hadn’t seen her for years.
Moira’s small cottage was located at the end of a short street, with a tiny front garden bordered by a low, crumbling stone fence. Helen didn’t think it really suited the woman she remembered, and she was glad of Nikki’s presence at her side as they walked up the cobblestone path to the front door. Knocking lightly, she started slightly as it opened immediately, almost as if Moira had been waiting for them.
“Helen!” Immediately, she was enfolded into a generous bosom, Moira’s perfume so familiar that for a moment, Helen felt nine years old again. Moira was just as stout, but the mass of hair was now snow white, swept up in the same, thick bun. Finally, she released Helen, setting her back on her feet, and held her hand out to Nikki who accepted it readily. “You must be Nikki. We spoke on the phone.”
“I am,” Nikki responded. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Helen’s told me a lot about you.”
Mostly on the drive up the day before, Helen thought shamefully as Moira drew them into the cozily decorated cottage. There was a lot she hadn’t managed to share with Nikki before now. Holding back a part of her heart was a longtime habit, but Nikki deserved so much better than that and Helen swore silently that she would be better about reaching out in the future; make more of an effort to be completely open about her innermost thoughts and feelings with the woman she loved.
“I can honestly say she hasn’t said much about you,” Moira told Nikki as she settled them at her kitchen table already set for tea. “But then, Helen and I haven’t had a chance to see each other very much over the years.” She glanced at Helen and smiled sadly. “I’m sorry about that. I should have come back to visit more often, especially after Isobel passed.”
Helen wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Nikki’s my partner,” she blurted, in case it wasn’t clear. “We’re together.”
Nikki shot an odd look at her and the twitch of her lips indicated she wanted to laugh, but was holding back with the greatest of efforts. Moira blinked and lifted her brows. “I gathered.” Carefully, she poured water from the kettle into the rose patterned teapot. “I won’t say it isn’t a bit of a surprise. Andrew was always going on about the men you were seeing, how unsuitable they were for one reason or another.” She smiled wryly. “I suppose now we know the real reason.”
“That wasn’t it,” Helen told her, a touch of bitterness edging her tone despite her best effort to conceal it. “He never approved of anything I did, whether it came to my career or my personal life. He wouldn’t have approved of this, either.”
“You’re probably right,” Moira said mildly. “Disapproval was always something he did quite well, as anyone who sat through one of his sermons would agree. That was why he was so against my decision to travel the world. Travel expands horizons you see, and expanded horizons can be damaging to religious beliefs.”
“So, Helen tells me you’re an author,” Nikki said, clearly deciding a change of subject was in order.
Moira motioned at the bookcases separating the dining area from the living room full of the travel books she had written over the years. “I was lucky to have a job that allowed me to indulge my passion for exploration.” Moira settled heavily into a chair and slid across a plate piled high with shortbread biscuits. “Are you two planning on having kids?”
Helen goggled at her and Nikki snorted laughter, unable to hold it in this time. “She hasn’t managed to get me pregnant yet.”
They both turned to look at Helen who felt oddly defensive despite the ludicrousness of the conversation. It was as if they were ganging up on her, even though Nikki and Moira had only met a few minutes earlier. “It’s a little soon for that, isn’t it?” she managed lamely.
Nikki immediately reached over and took her hand. “Just taking the piss, darling,” she said fondly, and smiled at Moira. “We haven’t really talked about it yet. We’re still enjoying the early days.”
“By all means, enjoy them fully,” agreed Moira. “You only have them the once.”
Helen was still trying to get her head around her aunt’s complete and total acceptance of her and Nikki. She’d expected far more resistance, part of the reason she had gone on the offensive from the beginning. Of course, as Moira had said, her horizons were considerably wider than the average local villager, including most of Pastor Stewart’s congregation. It made her wonder what she could expect at the funeral the next day.
As if reading her mind, Nikki leaned forward, lowering her voice. “So, you’re living here now, Moira. Should Helen and I go together to the viewing this afternoon or should she go alone? Can I hold Helen’s hand tomorrow at the funeral, or would it be best if I sat at the back of the church during the service?”
Helen caught her breath at the boldness of the questions, but she was just as anxious to hear her opinion. Moira smiled wryly and sipped her tea, taking her time to respond. “You’re not a local,” she pointed out finally. “The rules of village life don’t apply to anyone who’s not going to be here long enough to be affected by gossip. If I were you, I’d behave as I liked and damn the consequences.”
“Leaving you to carry the can,” Nikki pointed out.
Moira laughed, that hearty, full-bodied laugh that Helen remembered best about her. “Crivens, hen, I’ll be glad of the break. Instead of speculating on how many dark-skinned wee laddies I’ve encountered on my travels, they can focus on you instead. They’ll be dying to know how long Helen’s been eying the ladies. Better still, if she had her eye on any one of them. Oh, yes, I’ll have months of fun with this one.”
“God.” Helen groaned and put her face in her hands. “Now I remember why I left.”
After enjoying another hour of catching up, Nikki and Helen took their leave. Moira promised she would take care of cleaning out the manse so that Helen wouldn’t have to, and dispose properly of his few belongings in preparation for whomever the Presbytery sent to replace him. A small village vicar didn’t make a lot, and both housing and board were taken care of by the church. Helen had already taken everything of sentimental value that she’d wanted all those years ago when she’d left for university.
As she unlocked her car, Helen was aware of one of the neighbors out in her front garden across the street, giving her the eye as she pretended to clip her roses. Exasperated, Helen glanced over the roof of the car at Nikki who grinned back at her.
“Should have driven up in the Porsche,” she muttered. “It would have given them all a real thrill.”
Helen just shook her head and slipped behind the wheel. As she started the car, she glanced over at Nikki. “Do you mind if I make a stop before we go back to the hotel?”
“You want to stop by the vicarage?” Nikki asked curiously.
“Not there,” Helen said. “But close.”
Nikki lifted a brow, but didn’t say anything, not even when Helen drew into the car park of the small church by the river and parked at the far end by the gate leading to the cemetery. She merely got out of the car and walked with her as Helen strode unerringly through the multitude of headstones and monuments to the grave by the old oak tree. Beyond it, a new plot had been prepared, readied for the burial the next day, but Helen’s eyes were focused on the weathered granite stone, engraved with the words ‘cherished wife, beloved mother’.
Helen reached out for Nikki, gripping her hand tightly.
“Jesus, she was only thirty-four,” Nikki muttered darkly as if she had not realized until this moment how quickly death could take someone.
Helen exhaled shakily. “I don’t know why I needed to see this again. It’s been years and she’s not really here, anyway, she’s in a much better place.”
“She is, darling.” Nikki squeezed her hand. “And tomorrow, your dad will be buried next to her and they’ll finally be together.” She sighed loudly, shaking her head. “Christ, I wish I could say something intelligent occasionally rather than drag out every cliché in the book. I suppose I’m not really good at this stuff.”
Despite the circumstances, Helen smiled. “It’s not what you say, sweetheart, it’s the fact that you’re here with me to say it that’s important.” She paused, searching for the words. “I wanted you to see her grave, Nikki. I think…she really would have liked you a lot. You would have made her laugh, just like Moira did. And she would have seen right away what a good heart you have.”
Nikki glanced at her. “Thank you, darling. That means a lot to me.”
Helen thought that maybe sharing what she was feeling wasn’t so very difficult after all. “The viewing is at three. Should we have some lunch first before we go back to the hotel to change?”
“Do you have someplace in mind?”
“There’s this pub next to the river. I used to go there a lot.”
Nikki flashed her a smile. “With all those boys you pulled in school?”
Helen nudged her. “Don’t be so cheeky.”
“That’s all right, darling. While we eat, you can point out a few of your various conquests so I can laugh at them.”
But when they arrived at the pub, it was no longer there. Instead, a mini-mart resided in the old brick building where Helen had enjoyed so many meals with her dates all those years ago before going off to university. Saddened, she stared at the windows plastered will local adverts and Lotto posters, wondering when it had gone out of business. Nikki, sensing her great disappointment, patted her shoulder comfortingly.
“Things change,” she said gently. “Circle of life and all that.”
“There is such a thing as too much optimism.”
Nikki smiled. “Come on, I’ll treat you to lunch at the hotel. The chef’s supposed to be good. What do you think?”
“Okay,” Helen said.
But she found herself glancing in the rearview window as they pulled away, feeling a twinge at the loss of yet another fragment of her youth. At lunch, she was distracted, responding to Nikki’s attempts at conversation with absent pleasantries and granting the delicious meal no justice at all, barely tasting it as she ate mechanically. Upstairs in their suite, she changed into a black skirt and blazer, the austere outfit softened by a jade green blouse, while Nikki kitted out in understated, but typically elegant designer clothes. Whatever else happened, they’d probably be the most fashionable people at the viewing.
And it was just as bad as Helen feared. People she had known while growing up, people she’d gone to school with, people who had known her and her family all her life were absolutely blindsided by Helen introducing Nikki as her partner. Their sudden awkwardness around her sparked every nerve she possessed and stubborn pride made her link her arm in Nikki’s, going so far as to rest her head on her shoulder and caress her face a few times. Nikki glanced sideways at her every so often, but she kept her mouth shut and played the role of the strong, silent lesbian lover, glowering at anyone who looked at them the wrong way. Moira watched it all with a glint of amusement in her eyes and an encouraging pat on their backs as they were leaving.
By the time they returned to the hotel, Helen was fuming. “I’m so fucking glad I left this godforsaken place!” she exclaimed as she tore off her blazer and threw it on the sofa. “I’m only sorry I had to come back.”
“It has its good points,” Nikki said from where she was leaning against the wall. “The countryside’s stunning. We should come back for a long weekend sometime.”
Astonished, Helen turned to stare at her. “You’d better not be taking the piss with me,” she said through clenched teeth.
“I’m not. I just think you’re winding yourself up unnecessarily. You’ve just come out to your family and friends so they’re bound to be shocked, especially by how open we were about it. Nobody said anything, did they?”
“Of course, they didn’t. They’ll wait ‘til we’re gone and do it behind our backs!”
“Compared to how my lot reacted, your coming out was quite civilized.” Nikki shrugged. “Anyway, does their opinion matter that much to you?”
“They mean nothing to me!”
“Then there’s no problem, is there?” Nikki sighed softly. “I just hate to see you hurting so much over this.”
“I’m not—” Helen started, and then stopped. She had been about to say that she wasn’t hurt, but the truth was, it did hurt, and she wasn’t sure why. “Fuck.”
Nikki tilted her head slightly, her gaze both compassionate and loving. “I like Moira a lot,” she said gently. “I want to come back and visit her.”
Helen exhaled audibly and suddenly had to swallow against the lump in her throat, feeling tears sting the back of her eyes. “I do, too.”
Nikki smiled and reached out her hand. Helen hesitated, and then moved toward her, surrendering to the ready embrace that welcomed her in. “Then we will, Helen, and to hell with anyone who doesn’t like it.”
Helen felt the tears leak over and wet the expensive material of Nikki’s shirt, undoubtedly leaving an indelible stain. At this rate, she was going to ruin all the clothes Nikki had brought with her. “I’m sorry I paraded you around like some sort of trophy to brandish in their faces. I should have been a bit more low-key about it given the circumstances.”
Nikki chuckled. “Well, if you’re going to create a spectacle, you might as well go all the way. It’s not worth doing otherwise.”
Helen groaned. “And we still have the funeral tomorrow.”
“Well, at this point, I’m sure it will be well attended, if not for your father, then for everyone to see the return of little Helen Stewart and her lesbian lover from London. God, wait ‘til they find out I’m a cop killer too. They’ll have to sell tickets just to keep the crowd under control.”
“Oh, God, Nikki!” Helen was appalled and the worst thing was that Nikki was right. It wouldn’t be long before someone pulled up that piece of Nikki’s history and spread it all over the village. “What have we done?”
“What’s this ‘we’ bollocks?”
Helen drew back to look her in the face. “Are you bailing on me now?”
Nikki smiled. “Never. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She lifted her chin, gaze distant and amused. “Moira’s right. They’ll be talking about this one for years.”
Nikki woke before dawn, seeing the gray light edging the large windows looking out toward the east. The tip of her nose was cold and she realized that no matter how much modernization or renovation these old castles underwent, they were still drafty as hell. Rolling over, she carefully put her arms around Helen, wondering how they had become separated in the night. Usually Helen was wrapped around her so tightly when they slept that it was a wonder Nikki could still breathe. It was only when Helen was having difficulty sleeping or feeling unwell that she put some distance between herself and Nikki.
She could feel a tension in Helen’s compact form, indicating she was awake, and Nikki snuggled closer. “Helen? Are you all right?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t.” Nikki nuzzled into the back of her neck, knowing that Helen was probably still thinking about the service the day before, and the whispers as they stood together at the burial. “Don’t let the buggers get you down.”
Helen made a rueful sound. “God, I just want to go home.”
“Well, we’ll be sleeping in our own bed tonight,” Nikki promised. And naked, I hope, she added silently.
That had turned out to be one of Helen’s little rules; that one was expected to wear nightclothes while sleeping in a strange place. In prison, of course, Nikki had worn plenty while sleeping, but since her release, she’d reveled in being able to sleep safely in the nude. The few times she’d been required to display a bit of decorum in the year since, a vest and pair of knickers had served adequately. But according to Helen, kitten-patterned flannel pajamas were the costume of choice while traveling. Nikki had no idea when and where Helen had purchased them but they made her feel quite ridiculous every time she pulled them on.
Sighing silently, she gently rubbed Helen’s belly through her nightgown. They hadn’t made love in days, a decidedly unfamiliar state of affairs for them since moving in together. Even while ‘indisposed’, as Helen termed their respective cycles, they always found a way to be physically intimate. Nikki was missing it terribly, but she understood why Helen hadn’t been in the mood. Though a part of her wondered how much of it had to do with the death of Helen’s father, and how much of it was the ridiculous pajamas. They were enough to put off anyone.
Nikki had become resigned to wasting this luxurious big bed and was pleasantly surprised when Helen suddenly reached down and took her hand, shifting it from her stomach to her breast. Unsure if Helen was doing it as an enticement, or just needing the contact as a form of comfort, Nikki carefully stroked the nipple through the fine silk, feeling it firm beneath her touch. Still, she didn’t press it, taking her cue from Helen’s responses, waiting until she felt Helen’s full buttocks press back into her groin. Still a bit tentative, she shifted the caress to Helen’s other breast, playing with it more lavishly than with the other.
“Nikki.” Her name whispered in that choked tone, thick with desire, was clear invitation, and Nikki’s caresses grew more ardent, slipping down Helen’s body to the hem of her nightgown and beneath it, roaming freely over her soft curves. But Helen objected when Nikki made a move to remove the nightgown altogether.
“No,” she murmured. “Leave it.”
Nikki lifted an eyebrow, but obeyed. It was only a minor impediment, easily bypassed and it occurred to her that perhaps it was part of the allure, making love while still clothed. Perhaps if they were in the habit of wearing nightclothes at home, the rule on holiday would be that they’d have to sleep in the nude. Sometimes there was a method to Helen’s madness about regulations.
Slipping her hand between Helen’s thighs, she rubbed her clit tenderly through her knickers, using the material to intensify the delightful friction. Helen whimpered and moaned, pressing back against Nikki as she spread her legs wider.
“Get inside me,” she ordered, voice harsh and uneven. “Now.”
Nikki grabbed the waistband of her pants and yanked them down over her buttocks and halfway down her thighs. From behind, she pushed two fingers inside her, feeling Helen’s slick heat surround her fingers. She couldn’t reach her clit from this angle, but Helen took care of that, reaching down to touch herself as Nikki began to move in and out of her, her hips undulating in rhythm with Helen’s, using her pelvis to add both support and a little extra thrust to her hand. It wasn’t the romance and roses of books, nor the tender sweetness of songs, just a sweaty and hard reality, fucking her rather than making love to her. It wasn’t Nikki’s preference, but it was something that Helen obviously wanted and needed now and Nikki was more than happy to provide it to her.
When Helen came, it was very physical, her body shuddering and contracting around Nikki’s fingers with a surprisingly powerful grip. Nikki remained inside her, allowing her to prolong the pleasure for as long as she wanted, and Helen continued to squeeze her internal muscles around her fingers, rubbing herself roughly until she came again, crying out hoarsely. Finally, she pulled away a little, indicating she was finished and Nikki carefully withdrew.
Immediately, Helen rolled over into her arms, clinging to her as she wept. Nikki supposed she should have expected this, and gently pulled Helen’s pants up, patting her buttocks comfortingly as she held her.
“Christ, I’m such a mess,” Helen sobbed into Nikki’s shoulder.
“No, just a little bit fucked up,” Nikki told her. “But this too, shall pass.”
“God, you’re quoting the Bible now?”
“They say ‘fucked up’ in the Bible?” Nikki was incredulous.
Helen laughed through her tears and reached for a tissue to wipe her face, having left a huge wet spot on Nikki’s pajama top. Nikki wondered if that was the real reason Helen had her wearing these things; to keep the snot off her skin. Such a forward thinker was her little Scotswoman.
“Darling, you’ll feel better once we’re home,” Nikki said soothingly.
“I know,” Helen whispered as she huddled in her arms. “Nikki, you’ve been absolutely fantastic through all this. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you, but I’m certainly glad I did it.”
“Ah, Helen, I’m just glad I could be here for you. There were plenty of times when you were there for me.” Nikki nuzzled her neck, smoothing her hands over her back and sides. “That’s what being partners is all about, after all.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Helen hesitated. “Nikki, about what Moira said about us having kids…”
“God, Helen, let’s see if we can look after ourselves for a while before we try looking after babies.” Nikki pulled her closer. “Unless…are you ready for something legal between us? We can call Claire the minute we’re back in London and work out the details.”
“Well, what did you and Trisha do?”
Nikki exhaled, slowly realizing that this was going to be another signpost for them so she’d better start paying closer attention. “What we could, but we were in business together, so it was as much professional as personal. Both our names were on the mortgage before she bought me out of the house and holdings, but that was the only big personal investment. The rest is through Diva Devotions Ltd., which is split 50/50 between us. The company owns both the nightclub and the bistro. Trisha’s in my will so in the event I die…” She trailed off, feeling her head ache at the trail of paperwork between her and Trisha that had not been altered since going off to prison.
Helen let out her breath slowly. “I really didn’t realize…you’re still very much partners, aren’t you?”
“Business partners,” Nikki reminded her firmly. “That’s all, darling, but it isn’t as simple as just me saying to you that what’s mine is yours. There are legal ramifications and they should be dealt with first. You’re right, I should have been thinking about all this long before now.”
“God, all I was considering was the emotional repercussions of us working out some sort of formal contract between us. When did I become the soppy one?”
Nikki kissed her. “You were always a bit romantic, particularly during the early days when I knew you. That’s why you had such a hard time; all your ideals crashing hard into the stone walls of Larkhall.”
“You’re probably right.” Helen snuggled closer. “I love you, Nikki. As long as you’re with me, it doesn’t matter what kind of legalities exist.”
Somehow, Nikki doubted that, but now that it had been brought to her attention, she could start dealing with it. She smiled as she felt Helen kiss her neck, and then her jaw, trailing toward her mouth. She moaned softly as she felt Helen’s tongue touch hers, sweet and loving, tasting of her desire.
“Hmm, going to have your way with me now?”
“I was thinking about it,” Helen murmured as she cupped Nikki’s buttocks, pulling her close. Sliding around between them, she ran her fingers underneath the band of her pajama bottoms.
Nikki’s breath caught as she felt the questing hand rake through her triangle. “It would be easier if I wasn’t so dressed.”
Helen uttered that low and dirty chuckle she used whenever they were intimate. “You just want out of those pajamas.”
“Oh, please, may I?”
Helen laughed again and began to unbutton her top. Quickly, Nikki gleefully shimmied out of her pants, dragging them out from under the blankets and flinging them across the room. As she sat up and removed her shirt, Helen obligingly followed suit, pulling her nightgown over her head and slipping out of her knickers. Nikki groaned in utter bliss as she felt all of Helen’s warm curves pressed against her.
“Let’s hope there’s not a fire alarm now.” Helen muttered with a slight trace of trepidation as they caressed each other.
“God, is that what your rule’s all about?” Nikki was astonished. “This place is 600 bloody years old. If it hasn’t burned down by now, it’s probably not going to do it while we’re here.” She kissed her passionately. “No matter how hot we try to make it.”
And it was hot indeed. Helen apparently wanted to take advantage of every minute they had left before they were required to check out, almost as if she were making up for missing the previous nights. So energetic was she that Nikki dozed most of their return to London. She didn’t really rouse until Helen was pulling into the car park just down from the bistro.
“Sorry, sweetie, I wasn’t much company for you on the trip back,” she muttered as she dug their luggage out of the back seat.
Helen flashed her a smile and reached over to touch her cheek with gentle fingertips. “I loved being able to look over and watch you sleep,” she told her. “And know you’re all mine.”
“Oh.” For some reason, Nikki wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that.
Upstairs, she went through the stack of mail Claire and Trisha had left sitting on the computer desk, pleased when she came across a letter from Barbara Hunt, postmarked from HMP Larkhall. As she wandered into the bedroom where Helen was unpacking, she read the letter, forced to decipher the occasional code phrase Barbara had devised to get sensitive information past the screws that monitored outgoing and incoming mail, just as she had when revealing Virginia’s death and implicating the Peckham Boot Gang in the murder. Taking a seat on the end of the bed, Nikki began to fill her Helen on its contents while she finished unpacking.
“Julie’s doing better.” Barbara’s last letter had shared the devastating news about Julie’s breast cancer and mastectomy, causing Nikki to demand that Helen have an immediate checkup with her doctor, just to be safe. Helen had insisted on the same from her. “So is Julie, finally. I think she was more afraid that Julie was. I’m glad she could be there for her during the procedure. The chemo’s going to be a bitch though.”
Helen, of course, understood perfectly what Nikki was talking about, even if someone with no experience with G-Wing wouldn’t. “Julie’s a strong woman, Nikki. I’m sure she’ll beat it completely.” She gathered up all their dirty clothes from their luggage and bundled them into the laundry basket.
“I hope so.” Nikki lifted her brows. “That bitch Merriman snuffed it.” She felt a small twinge of satisfaction at the news. Snowball had detonated a bomb during an escape attempt that had cost Shaz Wiley her life, and nearly took Barbara’s as well. “Apparently she tied a noose around her neck and flung herself off the G2 landing.”
Helen had stopped in the middle of carrying the basket into the ensuite, turning to look at her in horror. “Jesus Christ, Nikki!”
Nikki’s eyes flicked up at her briefly, and then back down to the letter. “Betts is probably going to be sacked for it. About time, I think. She’s had how many escape attempts under her watch? Not to mention how many prisoners have died while she’s been in charge. Guess her membership in the Old Boy’s Club is about to be revoked.”
“They’re always ready to revoke it when a woman has it,” Helen said, but she seemed less upset about that news than she did hearing about the suicide. “But maybe if she had been a little more concerned about the prisoners and less with covering up for Fenner at every opportunity, she wouldn’t be in trouble now.” Bitterness laced Helen’s tone, lingering from the lack of follow-up to her sexual assault complaint. Nikki knew Helen was convinced that Karen had somehow ‘lost’ the official paperwork.
It was a shame in a way. Both strong women, Helen and Karen should have been great friends and had they worked together, they would have made a formidable team. Instead, they had often found themselves at loggerheads over their approach to the prison service. Helen cared passionately about the inmates, arguably perhaps too much at times, while for Karen Betts, she maintained a certain objectivity and clarity except when it came to Jim Fenner. Karen had just come down too many times on the corrupt prison officer’s side for Helen to ever appreciate her good qualities over that single glaring flaw in her character.
Nikki shook her head. Lost opportunities, she thought and went back to her letter.
The Fossmore Psychiatric Facility displayed a façade of soothing, pastel colors in its corridors but a closer look revealed the jarring harshness of tempered steel bars, security monitors and high level restrictions that far outstripped any regular prison Helen had ever been in. The staff was completely professional, and often built along the lines of military commandos, with hard, muscular bodies beneath their starched, white uniforms. There was none of the laxness here that could be found at Larkhall.
For the inmates, there was no hiding in a general population, no interaction with anyone other than authorized personnel, and no opportunity to manipulate the system to one’s advantage. There was no prospect of an appeal or a parole because one wasn’t ‘sentenced’ to Fossmore, one was ‘admitted’. Shell Dockley had really found herself dropped into it this time, and her only hope was for Helen to somehow arrange a transfer back to a regular prison.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here last time,” Helen said calmly as she opened her file. She wasn’t quite sure why she bothered since she wasn’t allowed any kind of writing utensil while with a patient, and couldn’t take any notes. “I was unavoidably detained.”
“Yeah, I ‘eard about your dad snuffing it,” Shell said carelessly as she sprawled in her chair. “Sorry about that.”
Helen frowned, wondering how Shell could have known about her father, and then realized that Thomas must have let something slip when explaining why they had to reschedule this meeting. She made a mental note to remind him to be very careful around Shell. Just because she wasn’t like his other patients in Fossmore and didn’t necessarily belong in such a secure facility, that didn’t mean that he could relax around her.
“Thank you,” Helen said shortly, and quickly changed the subject. “I’ve been going through the various levels of paperwork required to have you declared competent enough to transfer you to Holloway. It’s going to take a few weeks, Shell, but I’m quite sure that with a little effort, we’ll be able to get it approved.”
Shell, who’s face had been somewhat pinched as Helen started to talk, abruptly relaxed. “Nice one, Miss.” She paused. “How long do you reckon?”
Helen hesitated. “I’d say about eight to twelve weeks.”
“What?!? You mean I’m stuck in this shit-hole for another three months?”
The guard at the door straightened and watched closely as Shell’s voice rose in outrage. With careful calculation, Helen hardened her tone, injecting plenty of G-Wing governor into it. “Shell, you should count yourself lucky that we’ve managed to make any progress at all. Jim Fenner pulled out every single stop when it came to framing you. He left us with nothing specific to dispute, other than the allegation that you attempted to smother your child, and even that came down to your word against that of two prison officials. And in that event…”
“They’re gonna be believed and I ain’t,” Shell finished for her bitterly.
“Exactly. That’s why Dr. Waugh’s report is so important. That will dispute their claim that you would or could do such a thing. And even then, it will only be enough to raise the possibility that Larkhall officials might have made a mistake in how they interpreted the situation, not that they deliberately conspired to have you transferred here just because you were giving them a hard time.”
“So Fenner gets away with it again.”
A harsh reality, Helen knew and one she was very familiar with. “You need to concentrate on your goal, not worry about things you can do nothing about,” she told her, the voice of long experience.
“He hated you,” Shell said suddenly.
“The feeling was entirely mutual, I assure you,” Helen responded before she could curb her wayward tongue, and then tightened her jaw, disgusted with herself. The fact that it was true didn’t really matter because it was important that she remain completely professional around Shell. Apparently, Thomas wasn’t the only one capable of carelessness. “Fortunately, Jim Fenner is no longer my problem.”
Shell leaned back in her chair. “Yeah, you probably got out while the going was good. He was going to get you one way or another. It was his idea to drop you in it when I escaped, you know. That whole diary thing was his idea.”
Helen, having another long-held suspicion confirmed, managed not to change expression. “Shell, let’s get back to talking about you and your case. The history is something we can’t do anything about.”
Shell, not deriving much entertainment out of her clumsy probes, sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “So, what do you want to talk about then? It’s not like life is a roller coaster here, is it? It’s boring as fuck. Anyway, what can I do about any of it?”
“What you’re already doing,” Helen said in a reassuring tone. “I’ve spoken to the officers and you’ve been a model patient over the past few weeks. That’s exactly how you need to play it, Shell. Just keep it up a little longer.”
She glanced up in time to see a bit of pleasure cross Shell’s face and realized that she didn’t get a lot of positive reinforcement in her life. This would be a good area to explore with her, she decided.
“Don’t know if I can do it another three months,” Shell said grudgingly.
“You have to. Make no mistake, any diversion on your part will delay the proceedings,” Helen said earnestly. “Enough delays and eventually Area Management will just throw the whole thing out and decide you’re better off where you are.”
That got to Shell, she saw, and a trace of fright ghosted over her blue eyes. “’Ere Miss, you won’t let that happen?”
“I told you I wouldn’t give up on you, Shell,” Helen told her. “You can’t give up on yourself.” She hesitated. “Isn’t there anything positive you can concentrate on to help make it through?”
Shell made every indication of thinking about it. “Well, the cells are a lot nicer here. Nothing on the Dutch nick, but they’re clean and there aren’t any roaches at all. They’re roomy enough. Even have a bit of a view through the window at the gardens. And they just gave me a stereo, which none of the rest of these nutters can have.”
“That’s because you earned that privilege, Shell,” Helen reminded her warmly. “By your recent conduct.”
“Yeah, well, the doc must ‘ave put a real good word in for me, there,” Shell replied and for a second, Helen felt a small quiver of alarm, though she couldn’t pin down exactly why.
After Shell had been escorted from the room, Helen gathered up her file and went to the door that had been left unlocked for her, wedged open with a small wooden triangle. Once, on a previous visit, it had clicked shut just as she reached it and she had no way of escaping. For twenty long minutes, as she waited for someone to realize she’d been trapped, she had a small taste of what it was like to be imprisoned. After that, she made a point of asking the guard to make sure it was left open and the knowing look in his eyes as he acquiesced made her feel both vulnerable and weak. But that momentary discomfort was nothing compared to the panic she’d felt after being accidentally locked in, her cries for help unheard through the solid, metal door.
After checking with the front desk, they found her an escort to take her up to Thomas’s office where she tapped lightly at the door. The decor was decidedly masculine, predominantly offering various shades of browns and greens, while the walls were adorned with diplomas and a few sports items, probably to personalize it somewhat. Helen found it a little stuffy, and perhaps indicative of how much he had changed since she last knew him. Or perhaps she was just seeing him with clearer eyes at this point. Perhaps all those little quirks of his like eating peanut butter and jam sandwiches or going to the dog races, had not been a subtle rebellion against the status quo, but rather simple leftovers from childhood, and now his true self was becoming apparent to her as he grew older. And she grew wiser.
“Tea?” her offered, lifting the silver pot. They were seated in heavy, brown leather chairs, located by the window that looked out over the grounds.
“Please,” she said and tried not to smile at the pretentiousness of it.
“How was Shell?”
“Holding on,” Helen admitted as she chose a biscuit from the small selection he presented on a saucer. “I’m not sure for how much longer, but I’m pleased by how well she’s done the past few weeks. No incidents at all.” Thomas’s face twitched and Helen immediately put down the Ginger Nut, feeling a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. “What?”
“It was just the once, hardly worth mentioning,” he admitted reluctantly, looking away from her intent gaze. “Otherwise, I’d have put it in the report.”
Helen sighed. “What did she do?”
“Um, she tried to grope me.”
“Grope you.”
“If you insist on specifics, she tried to squeeze my bum. She barely had a chance to make contact before I jumped out of reach. Like I said, hardly worth mentioning.”
“’Kin’ell, was that before or after the administration issued her a stereo for her room?”
“After. I explained to her that it was an unwise course of action for both of us,” he admitted. “Fortunately, she saw reason and backed off.”
“Thank God it wasn’t before she was started receiving privileges,” Helen said, not knowing whether to laugh or curse. “As it is, she thinks you’re responsible for all of it.”
“It’s all my fault. I let my guard down a bit. She’s far more engaging than most of the people I deal with, even quite humorous at times. I suppose I took that, along with everything else she’s told me about Fenner’s taking advantage of her and others over the years at Larkhall, to see her as more a victim in all this than the same kind of psychotic personality that I’m accustomed to dealing with.”
“She is a victim, Thomas, but remember that she’s far from harmless,” Helen said. He sounded far more sympathetic toward Shell that she would have expected. Just what had Shell been telling him in their sessions? And how much of her voluntary involvement with Fenner’s schemes had deliberately been left out of her recounting of the past? “Shell may possess a sense of humor and common sort of charm when she wants something, but I can assure you, she’s perfectly capable of sticking the broken end of a bottle in your neck if she decides you deserve it. You’d better keep that in mind.”
“Still, how much of that behavior comes from her, and how much of it is a result of corrupt bastards like Fenner using their authority to mistreat her?” Thomas argued. “She’s learned to strike out before she’s struck. That’s perfectly normal under the circumstances. Not to mention her history of abuse at the hands of her father. Helen, Shell needs our help far more than our condemnation.”
“Of course, she does.” Confused, Helen thought she detected a slight note of something in his tone. It wasn’t quite condescending, but she could construe it as indicating she was far less knowledgeable about Shell and her history than he was. Putting it aside for the moment, she dug into her briefcase and brought out the thick stack of paperwork, which she plopped on the nearby table. “And we are helping her. In fact, we’re going to have to fill out all this to process her transfer.”
He stared at it in horror. “Jesus, Helen.”
“I know,” she said with a wry grin. “According to Area Management, if there isn’t a pound of paperwork involved in doing it, then it can’t be worth doing in the first place.”
Gingerly, he picked up the top form, five pages stapled together and scanned through it. “It’s going to take hours to go through all this.” He glanced at her, a sudden speculative expression in his dark eyes. “Listen, why don’t we order a takeaway and pick it up on the way back to my place. We can work on all this there. They really don’t like it when any of us stay late here. It means one of the guards also has to stay over, which gives them time and a half.”
Helen had no reason to believe that he meant it in anything but the most innocent of ways, but for some reason, it stroked a nerve, although she couldn’t figure out why. She really was picking up some odd signals from him, and couldn’t decide if it was his doing or if she was just too sensitive considering their past. Fortunately, she had a perfect alternative, a promise made initially to smooth over an argument but at this point, offered her a way out of what might prove to be a somewhat awkward situation.
“Actually, I have a better idea. Just give me a minute to make a call.”
The phone rang just as Nikki put the pasta bake in the oven and she juggled it a bit as she placed it on the rack. After shutting the door, she took off the big oven mitt, and scooped up the receiver. “Hiya.”
“Nikki, it’s Helen.”
Nikki felt her heart sink. “Don’t tell me you’re working late tonight.”
This would be the fourth time in the past two weeks Helen had called to say she was staying late at the Unit and not to bother saving dinner for her. Not only had Helen fallen behind after taking those few days off to travel to Scotland, but her special projects were taking up so much of her attention that the regular tasks she had as a program coordinator were occasionally pushed aside, forcing her to work late to catch up.
“I am, but instead of staying at the office, I’m bringing home a guest for dinner.” Helen paused. “Just as I promised.”
Nikki needed a moment to figure out what she was talking about. “Oh, you were out to Fossmore today.”
“Yeah, there’s a ton of paperwork I need to go over and I need to go over it with Shell’s psychiatrist.”
Nikki wasn’t pleased, but she had made Helen promise that if she ever needed to work late with Thomas Waugh, she would bring him home rather than stay with him at the office, or worse, go off to his place. Nikki couldn’t exactly be upset now when Helen made every effort to fulfill that promise.
“Hey,” she said, forcing some cheer into her tone, “I made one of my specials tonight so there’s plenty to go around.”
“Thanks, sweetheart.” Nikki thought she heard a touch of relief in Helen’s tone. “We’ll be there in an hour.”
“I’ll be here.”
After hanging up, Nikki indulged in a rather satisfying outburst of cursing, and then set another place at the table. She would be on her best behavior, she promised herself and wondered if she should change. A glance down at her simple jeans and black t-shirt made her head immediately for the bedroom where she spent some time trying to select something to wear, finally changing into one of the designer outfits she had favored as manager of Chix. A quick mousse job and a touch up to her makeup finished her preparations just in time for her to hear voices in the corridor outside the flat. Dashing out to the kitchen, Nikki slipped on her oven mitts and retrieved the pasta bake, taking it over to the table just as Helen and Thomas entered the flat.
Helen blinked when she saw the outfit and Nikki all made up as if they were going out for the evening. A small smile edged her lips, but she didn’t say anything as she put her briefcase on the computer desk and kissed Nikki on the cheek.
“You remember Thomas, don’t you?” she asked mildly.
“Yeah, sure,” Nikki said, shaking his hand firmly. So firmly that he winced a little and Nikki quickly let go. She knew she was being ridiculous, but jealousy had always been her greatest weakness. Since leaving Larkhall, it had subsided a great deal, but obviously, it hadn’t gone away entirely, lurking within the deepest part of her and ready to leap out at a moment’s notice.
As they settled at the table, she remained quiet, not wanting to let her mouth get the better of her, as it was wont to do on occasion. Helen and Thomas fell into discussing Shell’s case in general terms, occasionally asking Nikki’s opinion and gradually, she relaxed and even started to enjoy the conversation. Neither of them could give her all the details, of course, because of confidentiality issues, but there was enough information about the case available to her as a layperson that she understood what was going on. And her familiarity with Shell granted her an insight that neither of the professionals enjoyed.
“The thing with Shell is she’s always looking for the chance to make her life that much easier,” she pointed out. “She doesn’t think of the long-term consequences, just focuses on what she wants to get out of it in the short-term. When she does have her mind set on something, she’ll go for it like a pit-bull grabbing hold of someone’s leg with its teeth.”
“In other words, so long as we can keep her focused on her transfer out of Fossmore,” Thomas said thoughtfully, “she’ll be determined to succeed.”
“Unless she sees something else she wants more,” Helen said dryly. “Then she’ll be determined to fail.”
“Like what?”
Nikki laughed. “Like you. She might decide that having a compassionate shrink at her beck and call in the loony bin is a lot less hassle than trying to work her way back up to top-dog in a new prison.”
“Shell is merely acting as her circumstances has conditioned her to act,” Thomas said earnestly. “Her actions are a response to her environment. It’s a matter of lashing out before she is hurt herself. I suspect most prisoners develop those kinds of behavioral patterns. It doesn’t make them evil, just badly damaged.”
Nikki thought that sounded like so much psychobabble, kindly meant but not very practical in the long run. “Well, after spending a few years with her on the same wing, I learned not to turn my back on her. Whether it’s from evil or damage, the result is the same. She’ll do anything to get a leg up. That included becoming a member of Fenner’s fan club. I mean, she knew as well as anyone that he was a total bastard, but she thought she could use him to her advantage. She did, too, ending up with privileges like working in the kitchen and being assigned to Enhanced, even when it cost her badly in the long run. And it’s not only her; it’s what prison does to a person. It makes you push, makes you always want more, always try for the larger prize if there’s any in sight, even if it might be a prize you’d be better off not having. There’s no perspective on that side of the bars, no sense of what’s really obtainable and what isn’t.”
She shot a sly glance at Helen and saw a slight smile on her face. She knew Helen wasn’t thinking of Shell’s case then, but of another lifer on G-wing. Their eyes met and they shared a second of complete empathy before Helen turned her attention back to their guest.
“Nikki’s right, Thomas. Shell is completely mercenary. I’m not saying that to be cruel. I agree with you that it’s a survival technique she learned early in life, and it’s enabled her to make it through some rather horrendous situations, but she’s not likely to alter that pattern of behavior just because someone is trying to help her. You need to be careful with her.”
All this analysis of Shell’s personality didn’t mean Nikki had warmed up to her any. They had locked horns too much in their early years in Larkhall for her to ever muster up anything resembling ‘like’. Nor did she respect or admire her for her survival skills. The most she could manage was a certain understanding of the conflux of circumstances that had created her and accept that she was who she was. And maybe even feel a wee bit sorry for her now and again…when she wasn’t remembering all the sly, nasty things she had done to make Nikki’s life as miserable as possible.
“If Shell is saved,” Nikki said sagely, “it’ll be in spite of herself, not because of it.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Thomas said ruefully. “I suppose she is quite capable of sticking a broken bottle into my neck, after all.” He glanced at Helen and offered her a smile.
Nikki blinked and straightened, wondering if he was taking a piss with her, and then realized from his oblivious behavior that it was a completely inadvertent comment. He didn’t even realize what he’d said. Frowning, she wondered why he’d even come up with such an example. It certainly wasn’t from Shell. It wasn’t his neck, but his guts in which Fenner had been stabbed.
After dinner, Helen and Thomas retired to the living room where they spread several files over the coffee table and began filling out forms, discussing each one extensively as they did. Nikki listened to them for about five minutes before sheer boredom drove her upstairs to the loft where all the couple’s books were kept. After selecting one, she returned to the living room, curling up on the settee to read. Even that was too close, with Helen and Thomas’s discussion continuing to intrude on her concentration and after only half an hour, she gave it up.
With a rueful sigh, she stood up. “I’m heading for bed, darling.”
Helen looked up and smiled. “All right, sweetheart. It’ll probably be a while before we’ll be done.”
“No kidding.” Nikki glanced at the stack of paperwork that hadn’t yet been touched. “Don’t let her go all night at this, Thomas.”
“I promise, Nikki,” he responded politely. “Pleasant dreams.”
She read until half nine and then marked her place in the book before putting it onto the night table. She had to be up at four and couldn’t afford to stay up much later. Unfortunately, an intention to sleep was not the same as going to sleep. She lay there in the darkness, straining to hear what was going on out in the living room, but the flat had been designed and constructed to keep noise from penetrating the bedroom walls. She had paid extra for it, in fact. Frustrated, she rolled over and tried not to think about it, but despite her best effort, it kept going around and around in her mind.
Helen was out there with a man she had once shagged.
The worst part was that Nikki could see why she had. He was a nice guy, not at all like Sean who was a bit of a prat. Thomas was intelligent and well spoken, he treated both women with respect and consideration, and he even had a sense of humor.
Nor did Nikki think Helen was the slightest bit interested in him now. She sensed nothing but a completely professional regard for Thomas from Helen. So why was Nikki’s stomach tied up in knots and her mind going a hundred miles an hour, making it impossible for her to sleep?
It was the thought of him having his hands on Helen, she decided finally. Of him knowing what it was like to touch her, to be inside her, to know what kind of sound she made when she came. It nearly killed Nikki to think about it even as she knew how completely irrational it was.
She lay in misery for what felt like most of the night before she finally heard Helen in the ensuite, though a quick glance at the bedside clock revealed that it was only half eleven. She huddled beneath the covers and pretended to be asleep, but when she felt Helen’s warm body join her in the bed, she couldn’t resist rolling over and reaching out to her.
“Hey, what are you still doing awake?” Helen asked as she settled into her arms.
“I missed you,” Nikki murmured, her hands roaming over Helen aggressively, fondling her breasts and dipping her head to seize a nipple between her lips.
Helen made a sound of surprise but responded readily, arching against the caress. “Oh, Nikki.” She tangled her fingers in her hair and pulled her head closer to her breast.
Instead of inflaming Nikki, as it normally did, it was like a dash of cold water and with a groan, she rolled over onto her back, feeling completely clumsy and stupid. Confused, Helen lifted onto her elbow, looking at her in the bluish illumination cast by the nightlight. “Nikki? What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Nikki swallowed hard, feeling tears sting her eyes. “Everything. Christ. It’s Thomas. I’m so jealous it feels like I’m on the verge of exploding and I don’t know why. All I can think about is him touching you…fucking you.”
There was a pause as Helen absorbed that. Instead of becoming angry, as Nikki expected, she reached over and put her hand on Nikki’s stomach, rubbing it comfortingly. “There’s nothing there with me and Thomas,” she said quietly. “Whatever we once had is completely gone.”
For some reason, Helen’s understanding only made her feel worse. “I know. I could see that.” Nikki covered her eyes with her hands. “I thought it was all behind me but now that he’s right here, back in your life…it’s just crap and I’m completely mad, Helen. Just put me in the room next to Shell, and we’ll keep each other company in the muppet mansion. It’s where I belong.”
Helen made a sound that might have been amusement but equally could have been dismay. Then Nikki felt the mattress dip as Helen moved, rolling over to straddle her hips. Gentle hands encircled her wrists, pulling her hands away from her face so that she could look up into Helen’s eyes. They were solemn and filled with concern.
“Do you really need the details, Nikki?” Helen asked in a husky voice as she held her hands in hers, squeezing lightly. “Will that put it all to rest?”
Nikki found she couldn’t respond. A part of her, that crazy, jealous part wanted to know everything so that she could be furious about it, while the more sensible part knew that it was completely irrelevant and dwelling on it wouldn’t do anyone any good. Helen, however, took her silence as assent.
“I wasn’t with him very much,” she explained in a low voice. “He just said all the things I told myself I wanted to hear…all the things I wanted to believe. But the times he and I were…together…in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help remembering how it had been with you, how it felt to be in your arms, to have your hands and your mouth on me.” She exhaled audibly, and her eyes glistened. “Thomas wasn’t a bad lover, Nikki. He was gentle and considerate and even rather skilled. He did all the right things, and so did I, but when I left his bed, deep down, I never wanted to go back. That’s what makes me the most ashamed of the whole thing. Not that Thomas and I had it off, but that I pretended it was more than what it was. I pretended we had made love, and that we could have a future together, even when I knew in my soul, it was all a lie. I tried to fool him, and I tried to fool myself and I suppose I didn’t do a very good job of either because eventually, it all came out.”
Nikki felt the jagged edge of each word shred a little part of her soul. “I’m sorry, Helen,” she said brokenly. “I just…I’m so sorry. I had no right to ask you about this.”
“This gives you that right, Nikki.” Helen reached for her hand and brought it up to her chest, pressing it between her breasts to the throb of her heart. “You’re in here. You have been from the start, no matter how hard I tried to fight it, or deny it, or walk away from it. No matter what’s happened in the past, or will happen in the future, you’re always going to be in here.”
Nikki sat up and wrapped her arms around her, tears streaming down her face. “I love you so much, Helen.”
“I love you, too,” Helen told her quietly. “I always will. Please believe that.”
“I do,” Nikki whispered. “Forgive me.”
“I already have.” Helen kissed her tenderly. “Let it go, sweetheart.”
And she held her close as Nikki wept, sorry that she’d forced the issue, sorry that Helen had gone through it, sorry that it all couldn’t have been easier for them both.
Helen felt Nikki shift beside her, slipping as quietly as possible from the bed in an effort not to disturb her as she headed to the ensuite to prepare for her day. They hadn’t made love the night before. After Nikki dissolved in tears, Helen had held her until she finally nodded off, falling asleep in her arms. Helen remained awake, watching Nikki’s face in the dim illumination of the nightlight and wishing she had handled things differently, even as she knew how futile that was. It was clear that her dalliance with Thomas had hurt Nikki deeply, even though both had considered their relationship over at the time.
Nor did Nikki’s lingering jealousy surprise her. If Helen were being perfectly honest with herself, Nikki’s flirtation with another inmate would have been far more devastating if Helen hadn’t known the truth about Caroline Lewis’s crimes, and that her eventual fate would never include Nikki no matter what happened. Not to mention the fact that Helen always had the authority to transfer any potential love interest out of G-wing at any time. Not that she would, of course, but possessing such control would always make a difference in how much jealousy she felt or would need to feel. And it was just another example of the disparity of power between them while in Larkhall. Nikki had not possessed any kind of control with Thomas, had not enjoyed any knowledge of Helen’s true feelings when she found out about it. Indeed, she had mustered up all her fortitude and wished Helen the best even when anyone could plainly see it was tearing her to pieces inside. Because of all that, Helen could be a great deal more tolerant with Nikki’s jealousy now than she had in other circumstances.
And hopefully their discussion the previous night had laid it to rest for the final time. Rising from of bed, she padded into the ensuite. Through the fogged glass of the shower, she could see Nikki’s sleek form and without hesitation, she opened the door and stepped in behind her, the steam and heat billowing over her. Startled, Nikki turned, eyes wide, and she smiled as Helen stepped into her arms.
“What are you doing up so early?”
“I missed you,” Helen murmured, running her hands over the silky skin of Nikki’s back, slick with suds and moisture. “I missed making love with you last night.”
“I don’t have as much time as I’d like, darling,” Nikki said with regret as she hugged her tightly.
“I know. I just need enough of you to get me through the day,” Helen said. She took Nikki’s face in her hands and kissed her passionately.
Nikki responded immediately to the kiss, her lips and tongue moving gently against Helen’s. “Well, in that case…”
Pressing her against the tile wall, warm water cascading over them, Nikki ran her hands avidly over Helen’s body, stroking her breasts and sides, nudging her knee between her thighs to part them hiking her leg up onto her hip. Helen groaned happily as she felt Nikki’s mouth on her neck, nipping at that sensitive spot that sent ripples of sensation through her. The touch of Nikki’s fingers between her legs, tips swirling insistently over her clit, was even better. Her support leg went weak and it was only Nikki’s grip on her thigh, and the solid tile against her back, that kept her from sliding to the floor. Then Nikki was slipping inside her, long fingers penetrating deep while her thumb did that remarkable flick across her clit at the same time. Helen shuddered and cried out, arms wrapped tight around Nikki’s neck as she responded to the caress, pelvis undulating steadily against the skillful hand.
“God, Nikki,” she moaned. “I need you so much.”
Nikki panted in her ear and increased the intensity of her touch, quickening her motion and within seconds, Helen was peaking, the pleasure too much to resist. As Helen gasped in the aftermath, Nikki continued to caress her lightly, just enough to keep her at an exquisite level of arousal. It was a handy trick when they had all day to make love, but time was ticking away quickly. Contracting her internal muscles around the flexing fingers, Helen jolted herself across the threshold one more time, crying out as this climax reverberated to her very core.
Reaching down, she grasped Nikki’s wrist, indicating she’d had enough and obligingly, Nikki withdrew with lingering care, stroking her a final time just to make her shudder. Helen didn’t let her go far. Hands moving avidly over the lean torso, she pulled Nikki close beneath the hot water splashing over their entwined bodies.
“Darling, I don’t have the time,” Nikki reminded her with a groan.
“Make the time,” Helen growled. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Nikki laughed and readily acquiesced. Helen could tell how much Nikki liked this, how much she liked having Helen show such wanton desire for her, which was the intention. Helen didn’t want there to be any lingering questions about how much she needed and wanted Nikki. She needed to know there would never be anyone else for Helen, now or in the future. Helen was so intent on proving it, in fact, that Nikki was staggering a bit by the time she finally made her escape downstairs to let in her staff that, at this point, had probably been waiting for a good twenty minutes in the alley behind the bistro. Quite satisfied, Helen dried her hair, dressed, and went out to the living room to work on the rest of Shell’s paperwork before she had to go off to the Unit.
Shell’s paperwork haunted Helen for the next couple of week, requiring several calls to Thomas and at least one conference with Della to help her through a particularly convoluted form that had nearly defeated her. Finally, she had it all filled out; along with all the proper accompanying files attached and sealed in an envelope. She made a special trip to drop it off at the main office of Area Management, not wanting to take the chance of losing it in the post that, considering the amount of work it had taken to complete it, was practically guaranteed to happen. Then she forgot about it because experience told her it would take several more weeks before she’d see any response on it.
So, she was considerably surprised when she received a letter back only a few days later, informing her that the transfer of Patient #080861 from Fossmore Psychiatric Hospital to HMP Holloway had been authorized. She sat in her office and stared at the successful end to her very first outreach case, wondering why Area Management had been so quick to push it through. It had been so long since she’d experienced such a tangible victory, that she was having trouble identifying her feelings. Shaking her head, she reached out for her phone and punched out the number for Fossmore, waiting for the switchboard to put her through to Thomas.
“Hello. Helen?”
“Hiya, Thomas. We’ve received authorization to transfer Shell to Holloway. All we need is your signature on the final transfer forms.”
“That’s excellent news.” He didn’t sound particularly enthusiastic, however. Helen wondered if he would be sorry to see Shell go. His position was such that he wouldn’t be able to help her once she left Fossmore. Holloway had its own staff that admittedly, was probably far less competent than he was.
“You want to tell her?”
“Honestly, Helen, you made this happen. You should be the one to tell her. Can you come over this afternoon? I’ll let her know you’re coming. We have a session this afternoon. You can tell her afterward.”
Helen checked her watch, calculating how long it would take to get over there. It meant she wouldn’t make it for supper, which would require a call home, but she suspected that in this case, Nikki wouldn’t mind particularly if it meant the end of Helen’s dealings with both Shell and Thomas.
“Arrange the appointment,” Helen told him. “I should be able to make it by five.”
“I’ll see you then.”
She drew out her mobile to make the call home, and when Nikki heard her voice, she immediately assumed the worst. “Late night again?”
“A good cause this time.” Quickly, Helen filled her in on the news and Nikki was properly appreciative.
“We’ll celebrate as soon as you get home. Congratulations, darling. Well done.”
With Nikki’s praise, it finally became real to her and Helen felt triumph surge strongly through her. It felt good and with a smile, she bore the letter off to Della’s office to share the happy news with her.
At Fossmore, she waited in the stark-white room and decided she wasn’t going to miss this part of the process at all. Even the roach-infested Larkhall felt more welcoming than this. She had yet to try out Holloway’s visitor’s room, but she looked forward to it with an avid anticipation. Now she could get back to Lydia Wallace’s case and set to work on reversing a life sentence that had unfairly been applied. She made a mental note to call Claire sometime over the next few days to pin her down for a consultation on the case.
When Shell entered, Helen couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across her face. She must have looked so out of character that Shell’s expression grew a bit guarded as she sat down in the chair opposite her,
“So, what’s up then?” she demanded. “Tom told me you were coming over but he wouldn’t say why.”
Helen laid the letter in front of her, feeling a delicious sense of anticipation at the joy it would inspire. “Your transfer has been approved, Shell. You’re being sent to Holloway.”
Shell looked at it without changing expression, and then lifted her eyes to meet Helen’s. “Oh, yeah, that. I changed my mind, didn’t I?” Gobsmacked, Helen just stared at her. After a few seconds, Shell’s face darkened and she squirmed a bit. “I don’t want to go to Holloway. I want to stay here at Fossmore.”
“What?!?” Helen finally found her voice and it was pitched two registers higher than normal. “What do you mean you want to stay here?!”
“Well, it’s a bit of all right, innit it? Got my own stereo in my room, the screws ain’t friendly like, but they leave me alone and the food ain’t bad.”
“But…you told me you’d go mad if you stayed here,” Helen sputtered.
“Yeah, well, I thought that at first, but now I’m thinking it’s not a bad place to be. Cause I started focusing on the positive, like you said. Now, I think it’s doing me a world of good, being on my own while getting me in touch with my feelings n’all. I’m being cured, you know? The doc’s been working with me personally.”
“But it’s a facility for the criminally insane.”
“I was thinking about that, too.” Shell abruptly looked crafty, blue eyes narrowing keenly. “When Larkhall sent me here, that’s what they said, right? That I was a nutter and needed to be ‘admitted’ here. No ‘ope of parole, no ‘ope of appeal.”
“Yes.” Helen had a very bad feeling about what Shell was about to say.
“But I’m not a nutter, am I?” Shell leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest, looking at her in triumph. “Just disadvantaged and working under diminished capacity, being from an abusive home and all. So, if I’m not a nutter, then once I’m ‘cured’ as all your papers say, then they have to release me, not bang me back into prison. I can’t be banged up in both places. It ain’t right.”
Helen blinked. In her own convoluted way, Shell may have come up with the perfect ‘get-out-of-jail-free’ card. Not much wonder Area Management had been so quick to process it. Someone must have been thinking along the same lines and worried as hell that it would become an issue. There was just one problem.
“You should have thought of this months ago,” she said tightly, “before we started this whole process.”
Shell looked bored. “Yeah, I get that you went to a lot of trouble, Miss,” she said. “But why would I want to be in prison when the Doc can set me free?”
“Shell, you no longer have a choice. Area Management has already processed this. You’re now an inmate of Holloway.”
“Not until the Doc signs the transfer papers.” Shell smiled slyly. “And I was just talking to him before you got here. Once I explained how it works with prison, I don’t think he wants to sign ‘em knowing it’s a choice between setting me free to be with Ronan, or banging me back up in the sort of place where they let pregnant women bleed nearly to death before getting help for ‘em. Come to think of it, wasn’t that under your watch, Miss?”
Helen was furious, and she wasn’t sure if it was because her triumph was suddenly ashes in her mouth or because she had overlooked such an obvious tactic. Did that mean Shell was more intelligent than her? Or did she just know how to play the game better? Either way, it left Helen feeling stupid and incompetent, which was not something she appreciated feeling. Lips pressed tightly together less she say something completely unprofessional, she nodded curtly to the guard.
“Please take the patient back to her room.”
“There’s no need to be like that, Miss. It’s nothing personal.”
Helen didn’t watch as he escorted Shell away, hearing her mocking laugh ringing in her ears. The twenty minutes it took for the guard to realize he had left Helen locked in again only exacerbated her complete humiliation.
“So, Waugh won’t sign the papers?” Nikki watched Helen who was still pacing agitatedly around the living room. “Is that why you didn’t get here until seven?”
“I spent a solid hour trying to talk some sense into him. Then I just drove around for a while, trying to get my head around this.” Helen put both hands to her head, gripping onto her hair as if she was thinking of pulling it out. “This is completely mad.”
“It usually is whenever Dockley’s involved,” Nikki said dryly as she lounged on the settee. “She might be banged up in the looney bin but that doesn’t mean she’s forgotten how to play the game.”
“I don’t understand what Thomas is thinking. I know he believes she’s been repeatedly victimized by Fenner and others, but it’s almost as if he feels she’s not responsible for any of what she’s done over the years.”
“Shell’s playing him, and he’s buying it. He isn’t the first. He won’t be the last.”
“He’s a bloody psychologist, Nikki! He should know better!”
“He’s still a man, and Shell’s been coming up with ways to get around men since she hit puberty. While she was filling his ear about Fenner and the rest, she was likely leaving all her bits out of it. He doesn’t know her or Larkhall like we do. He wasn’t there long enough. And telling him about it now isn’t the same as experiencing it firsthand. He probably thinks he can help her while all you want is to see her banged up in Holloway. She’s become his cause and we both know how hard it is to divert someone from their cause.” Nikki sighed. “What’s really got to you, Helen? That she fooled him? Or that all your work is for nothing?”
“Neither.” Helen shot an exasperated look at her. “Do you remember what happened the last time she got out of prison?”
“Yeah, she nearly barbequed Bodybag’s husband.” Nikki spread out her hands. “Come on Helen, do I think the streets are a safer place with Shell locked away? Probably, but you can’t blame her for working the system. After all, it’s worked her over pretty well the past few years.”
“Regardless, Nikki, while Shell didn’t deserve to be sent to Fossmore, she doesn’t deserve to completely escape the consequences of her actions either. Nor should she. She needs more rehabilitation or she’s bound to re-offend and we’ll be starting all over again. In Holloway, she’ll get the help she deserves and what the prison service owes her.”
Nikki’s lips twitched. She knew better than to smile, but she wanted to. “Darling, if we only got what we deserved, just imagine where we’d all be now.”
“You’re not helping.”
The edge in Helen’s voice sobered Nikki considerably and she straightened a little. “Sweetie, if having a row will make you feel better about all this, then please, let’s get on with it. I have to be up at four tomorrow morning.”
Startled, Helen stopped and stared at her. Nikki returned her steady gaze, and finally, Helen relaxed a little. “Bollocks.”
Nikki nodded. “Exactly.”
“You know, Shell’s sitting there, brushing aside that letter like it’s nothing and telling me she changed her mind, and I just wanted to…” Helen trailed off, her expression confounded.
Nikki leaned forward encouragingly. “You wanted to what?”
Helen looked at her, eyes wide. “I wanted to clock her one.”
Nikki laughed out loud, both at the tone, and the dismay in Helen’s face at making such an admission. “Maybe you should have.”
Helen shook her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. Violence is never the answer, Nikki.”
“Sometimes it is.” Rising from the settee, Nikki went over to her and wrapped her arms around her, ignoring her feeble attempts to push her away. “My little Scottish spitfire,” she said fondly. “Do you know how attractive you are right now?”
“No, this is not…” Helen began, but her voice lacked heat and almost immediately, she surrendered, leaning into Nikki’s body. “Sod you,”
“Surely you could think up something better to do to me,” Nikki said huskily, kissing the side of the neck.
Helen groaned, but clearly her resistance was at a low ebb. “God, I can,” she admitted. “Lots and lots of things.”
“And wouldn’t that be better than having a row?”
“Shut up and kiss me,” Helen muttered, unbuttoning Nikki’s shirt.
Nikki laughed as she pulled Helen’s sweater off over her head. The rest of their clothes were quickly discarded in an uneven trail behind them as they stumbled for the bedroom where they fell onto the bed, rolling around a bit before they finally settled in the middle, with Nikki on her back and Helen straddling her. Nikki loved the feel of her soft curves pressing down on her, and the way Helen’s hands and mouth moved so aggressively over her skin. Though she knew some of Helen’s urgency was derived more from aggravation than passion, the results were still quite thrilling and well worth surrendering to.
Afterward, they lay in sweaty satisfaction, respiration slowly resuming a normal rhythm, heartbeats easing off their frantic pounding. Helen lay draped across Nikki like a favorite blanket, a presence both comforting and feeling of home.
“God, that was fun,” Nikki muttered.
“It was.” Helen hesitated and her lips soothed over the red indentation of teeth marks on Nikki’s collarbone. “I didn’t mean to be so rough.”
“You were fine, darling,” Nikki assured her. “Do you feel better now?”
Helen exhaled audibly. “Much better.” She paused. “Though I'm not sure how healthy it is to be taking out all my frustrations on you.”
“Well, as long as this is the method you use, I don't mind at all,” Nikki assured her with a grin. “It's a lot better than...” She stopped, deciding she'd better not go any further, but of course, Helen immediately picked up on unfinished comment.
“What? Better than what?” Helen lifted her head to stare at her, frowning slightly.
Nikki wondered when she was ever going to get command over her wayward gob. Probably never, she decided with a certain amount of despair. “Better than the way you used to go off on me in Larkhall,” she mumbled.
Helen's eyes narrowed and Nikki readied herself for an angry retort that never came. Instead, Helen dropped her gaze. “You're right, this is much better.” A wealth of expressions crossed her face, her jaw moving slightly as if she was tasting something very unpleasant. “I kept a lot of things buried inside me back then, Nikki, and it wasn’t until I went through my sessions with Paul that I realized how deep. Or how alone I was. Worse than alone actually, because you were always the one I wanted to turn to when everything went wrong…but I couldn't, because of where you were.”
“Banged up, you mean?” Nikki said it with deliberate lightness, worried about what darkness she had dredged up now.
“Yes,” Helen said quietly. “So all my pain and frustration came out in inappropriate ways, usually as misdirected anger. Like that time you threatened Fenner after he assaulted me. By telling you what he'd done, I knew exactly how you'd react. I had to know. I'd be stupid if I didn't. But when you did go after him to defend me, I was terrified, not because of what you did, but because of what the consequences might be for your appeal. I was so ashamed I had put you in such an impossible position, but rather than admit any of that to you, I went off on you instead.” Nikki saw a tear slide down her face, felt the hot splash of it fall onto her breastbone. “I'm sorry.”
“Ah, Helen, don't...” Nikki cupped her face in her palm. “C'mon, now, don't cry. It's not worth any more of your tears. I'm sorry I brought it up.”
“No, Nikki, don't be sorry.” Helen snuggled close to her, dried her eyes with the corner of the sheet and nestled her head on Nikki's shoulder. “I know I can’t change the past, but by talking about it now, I can lay some of it to rest. I’m still learning how to share that part of myself, but if there’s anything you want to know…that you need to know…about that time, then all you need to do is ask me and I’ll tell you everything I can. No more holding back.”
Soberly, Nikki hugged her. “Thank you. I appreciate that. There’s a lot of stuff that happened back in Larkhall that we probably need to talk about. One day soon, I promise.”
“Good.” Helen settled closer to her and for the next few moments, they simply appreciated the freedom to be with each other. Nikki ran her hand the length of Helen’s back, enjoying the softness of her skin and basking in her warmth.
“Speaking of Larkhall, I got a letter from Barbara today,” she said, hoping for a lighter subject.
“Yeah? What’s new with her?”
“They finally set the date. She’s getting married next week.”
“How can they do that? Isn’t Henry still the chaplain there?”
“He resigned, apparently. They’re being married in the chapel at Larkhall.” Nikki nudged her. “See, that’s all you ever had to do, resign and marry me.”
“And only see you a half hour every two weeks like Trisha did?” Helen pointed out in a practical tone. “At least when I started up the Lifer’s group and returned to Larkhall, I could go into your cell and spend some private time with you occasionally.”
“Not that we ever did anything,” Nikki reminded her.
“Wasn’t it enough just to see me?” Helen’s tone was a bit ironic and Nikki smiled.
“It was, Helen,” she told her in a gentle voice. “Don’t underestimate how much spending that time with you meant to me. It was never enough, but now I know it was far more than it could have been, or maybe even should have been.”
Helen reached up to kiss her tenderly. “For what it’s worth, I always wanted to be with you more, too. It was just too difficult…and not safe for either of us.”
“Well, one of us had to use her head back then.” Nikki made a rueful sound. “It was certainly never going to be me.”
“Are you going to the wedding?”
Nikki shook her head. “I want to, but it’s the same day Pam and Jenna are registering at the FE College. You know how much they’ve been looking forward to it. I can’t ask them to change their plans now. And if I’m really being honest, I still can’t…I don’t want to go back there…not even for this.”
“I understand, sweetheart,” Helen sighed. “I’d go but…well, that’s the same day I was supposed to be overseeing Shell’s transfer.” She grumbled a bit under her breath, undoubtedly a curse or two.
“It’s okay, Helen. Besides, can you imagine going back to Larkhall and looking at Fenner, especially with all Shell’s told you since you’ve been working with her?” Nikki asked, “And not making a scene that would completely ruin Barbara’s big day?”
Helen made a sound of disgust. “No, I can’t. God, Nikki, you’re right, unless I’m going there with a couple of bobbies to arrest him, then there’s no point. Having him smirking in the background would make it impossible for me to enjoy anything about the wedding.” She exhaled audibly. “He taints everything he comes in contact with. To know how evil he is and be unable to do anything about it…”
Nikki felt the tautness in Helen’s body, the frustration, and immediately, she rubbed her back, trying to sooth her. “His luck will run out one day,” she said, though it was hard for her to believe it. “One day someone will catch him in the right place at the right time and the bastard will get everything that’s coming to him.”
“I hope so.” Helen shook her head. “On reflection, I think that Della may have had a point when she asked me to steer clear of Larkhall when I was setting up my outreach programs. Meeting Fenner again would have made it impossible for me to concentrate on my job. I’d be too busy fighting him to focus completely on my client and plus, there’s no way he’d pass up on the chance to take it out on her whenever I wasn’t around.”
“Does Della know about your history with him?”
“We had a long chat about him at Dominic’s party. Or at least, I gave her the edited highlights.”
“I wondered what you two were up to,” Nikki said, thinking back to the barbeque Dominic had hosted at the house he was renting from Helen. Helen and Della had spent most of their time huddled together at the cast iron table in the back garden, talking and drinking vodka. During the discussion, Della had made the supreme mistake of trying to match Helen drink for drink. Helen had ended up pleasantly inebriated while Della’s husband, Dan, had needed assistance from Dominic and Paul just to carry his wife out to the car.
“I thought it was just a case of you getting pissed and generally putting the world to rights. I had no idea the conversation had taken that sort of turn.” Nikki paused. “I noticed that Joan didn’t seem very happy about the two of you cozying up like that. There’s something bad about her, Helen. I could tell just by looking at her, and that was before Trisha put her two penneth in.”
“Dominic says she’s jealous of my friendship with Della,” Helen agreed with a sigh. “That’s all I need, another colleague who’s out to get me.”
Nikki nuzzled her hair. “You just have the knack of being able to inspire strong emotions in other people. I mean, look at what you inspired in me.”
Helen made a brief sound of pleasure, snuggling closer. “You know, I was so worried about the prospect of coming out to them, and the when they finally did meet you, no one batted an eye.”
“Probably because they already knew about me.”
Her head lifting, Helen looked at her, frowning. “What?”
“Remember that night you and Claire got paralytic at the club and I had to call in sick for you the next morning? Well it turns out that Dominic told everyone that the woman’s voice on the answering machine belonged to your partner.”
“God, I never realized,” Helen said, lowering her head back to Nikki’s shoulder once more. “It’s always the littlest things that are overlooked, aren’t they?” She ran her fingers in slow circles over Nikki’s stomach. “Like the night you escaped. I never once thought about Barbara being your cell mate until I was standing in Shell’s cell, looking at the bed where she stabbed Fenner, and realizing you were no longer on Enhanced in a private cell.”
“Strange thing to think of while looking at that mess.”
“Well, it was a strange night all around,” Helen said ruefully. “I was going in circles at that point, what with sneaking you back into Larkhall and what it meant to be in a relationship with a prisoner. The whole stabbing incident just brought it home to me in the worst sort of way.”
“What, you thought I’d end up stabbing you?” Nikki was incredulous.
“No,” Helen said in that patient tone she used whenever Nikki was being a bit thick, “but seeing the aftermath of Shell and Fenner made me realize how damaging the consequences of being involved with a prisoner could be. That’s why I had to push you away. We had no perspective at that point, Nikki. What we felt was so strong that it was making us do crazy things…stupid things. And if we kept doing them, we’d both end up in a position where being together would be completely impossible.”
Nikki took a few seconds to think about what Helen was trying to say. She knew she hadn’t been in any kind of mood to hear it that night, feeling furious and desperate and completely devastated about being in prison again. “Yeah, well, it all worked out in the end,” she said rather lamely.
Helen made a sound of both amusement and dismay. “I often wonder how it did, considering everything that happened with us.”
“Maybe it was destiny. We were just meant to be.”
“Maybe,” Helen agreed, patting her abdomen affectionately. “It’s as good a reason as any, I suppose.”
“Christ!”
Startled, Helen looked up from her dessert. Nikki was leaning back in her chair, enjoying the paper while they lingered over their coffee and cake. “What?”
“Karen Betts has been arrested for causing death by dangerous driving.” Nikki read further. “Says here it was a hit-and-run. You know, I always suspected her a being a bit of a piss-head on the quiet. When they found her car, there was an empty bottle of whiskey in it.”
“Jesus.” Helen shook her head. “I’ve always said that working at Larkhall is enough to drive anyone to drink.”
Nikki’s dark eyes assessed her over the top of the paper. “It sounds to me like you’re feeling sorry for her.”
“I feel sorry for the poor wee sod she killed.” Helen put down her last bite of cake, suddenly losing her appetite. “Maybe it’s not just Fenner, maybe it’s Larkhall that’s evil. We were lucky to get out while we did.”
Nikki uttered a laugh that was devoid of humor. “Like a horror film, you mean. Escaping the cursed tomb by the skin of our teeth. Well, God knows the place still gives me bloody nightmares.” She turned the page, moving on to other news. “Any luck with Waugh?”
“Not yet.” Helen felt her jaw tighten. “We’re still at a stalemate. He won’t sign the transfer papers and I won’t sign the release papers. Meanwhile, Shell’s enjoying her good behavior privileges and laughing at us both.”
“Why don’t you explain to Waugh in detail how Shell tried to braise Bobby Hollamby’s meatballs after her escape?” Nikki said dryly.
Despite her best effort, Helen laughed at that and was immediately mortified that she had. “Nikki! That’s not funny!”
Nikki lowered the paper, grinning at her. Bodybag had been one of the more despised screws on the wing, and she had a habit of going on incessantly about her husband’s cooking. Even so, most of the inmates had been rather repelled when they heard how Shell had stuck him in one of the funeral home’s caskets and set it on fire. It was only Helen’s quick thinking that saved his life. She figured out Shell might want to settle a few old scores and notified the police to check out the Hollambys’ after Sylvia failed to turn up for work the day after the escape.
“I bet Bodybag never thanked you for saving their sorry arses, did she?”
Helen sighed. “No, I don’t believe she ever did.”
“He ended up topping himself, you know.”
“Who did? Bobby Hollamby? Because of what happened with Shell?”
“No, his undertaking business was going under. He was on the verge of going bankrupt and tried to get a job as a PO at Larkhall. When Grayling turned him down, he gassed himself in the hearse right there in the prison carpark. Di and Grayling found him. I’m sure I told you about this, Helen. It was around the same time Henry popped the question.”
“I remember you telling me that he and Barbara had gotten engaged and all about Merriman’s second escape attempt,” Helen said, blinking as she absorbed the news. “You never said anything about a suicide.”
“Huh.” Nikki considered it, and then shrugged. “What with everything else that was going on, I must have forgotten to mention it.”
“Is there anything else you might have forgotten to tell me?”
Nikki lifted her brows. “How would I know I didn’t tell you something if you don’t know what it was I didn’t tell you.” Helen just stared at her, not even attempting to decipher that, and Nikki laughed. “I’m sure I’ve filled you in on all the important stuff. The rest doesn’t matter.”
“You know, for someone who wants to leave Larkhall completely behind her, you’re more up on the happenings there than I am, and I still work in the bloody prison system.”
“Well, as long as Barbara’s in there, I’ll want to know what’s going on,” Nikki admitted. “But she should be out soon. I can’t wait to see her.”
“It’ll help her a lot to have someone like you around while she adapts to being free.”
“I hope so. I can’t imagine what it would have been like if I didn’t have you and Trisha and the rest around me just after my release. Except for Henry, Barbara doesn’t have anyone. I told her that as soon as she’s out, her and Henry have to come over for dinner.”
Helen rose from her chair and went around the table. Nikki grinned and put down the paper in time to welcome her onto her lap. Helen kissed her. “You really are the sweetest person, Nicola Wade.”
“I believe what you really meant to say was ‘the most pathetic and soppy person’ you know.”
“That, too.” Helen hugged her neck. “And I love you for it.”
Nikki hugged her back, nuzzling into her hair. Helen could feel her lips brushing over her earlobe. “I love you, too.” She paused. “You have any paperwork tonight?”
“Hmm, nothing that can’t wait.” Helen leaned into her. “What did you have in mind?”
What she had in mind left Helen so thoroughly worn out that she didn’t even wake when Nikki left for work. Instead, the alarm clock went off with Capital Gold playing a rousing rendition of Dusty Springfield’s Son of a Preacher Man. Yawning and stretching, Helen rolled out of bed and padded to the ensuite to start her day. After dressing, she gathered up her briefcase and headed down to the bistro for breakfast.
As she settled at her usual table, she noticed that the beat patrol had stopped by for their traditional tea and Danish. After Diane took her order, Helen found her gaze straying back to the corner where the two constables sat. The female officer, PC Leedham, was the same cop who had stopped Helen one rainy night a few years earlier. Helen nursed a secret fear that Leedham would someday remember that routine traffic stop and somehow put everything together, even though the odds of such a thing happening were low indeed.
Sometimes, she even thought she saw Leedham glancing at her, an expression on her face as if she was trying to place her from somewhere other than the bistro, but it was probably only Helen’s imagination, the curse of a guilty conscience. Fortunately, Kate would usually choose that moment to come out from the kitchen or from behind the counter and Leedham’s dark eyes would immediately focus on those rolling hips while Helen would utter a silent sigh of relief.
She could avoid coming down to the bistro altogether, of course, but that seemed like a foolish overreaction. Helen wasn’t the sort of person to let nebulous fears dictate her actions, especially when she knew they were irrational. After all, if Leedham thought of Nikki Wade in connection to her job at all, it was related to the death of one of her colleagues, DC Gossard. Fortunately, Leedham had been friends with Sally Ann Howe, another of Gossard’s victims, so she was less inclined to dislike Nikki than another police officer might. And of course, Nikki’s charm did the rest. Helen was sure that at this point, Leedham probably adored Nikki as much as the rest of her regular customers did.
“Hey, want some sugar with your eggs?”
Helen nearly jumped out of her seat when Nikki wrapped her arms around her neck from behind and kissed her ear. “Jesus, Nikki.”
“Sorry, love, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Nikki settled in the chair opposite her. “Are you going out to Fossmore again today?”
Helen shook her head. “I can’t afford to,” she said ruefully. “I’ve been pushing it with Della as it is, using far more than my two days a week to work on this project. Besides, I need to get started with Lydia Wallace.”
“Talked to Claire, yet?”
“I managed to get hold of her,” Helen said as she dipped her toast in the runny yolk of her egg and brought it up to her mouth, careful not to drip any on her suit. “We’re getting together next week to go over the file.”
Nikki smiled lazily. “I’m surprised you were able to pry her away from Trisha. I guess the honeymoon’s over.”
Helen snorted at that. “I doubt that. I had to make an appointment during office hours.” Nikki suddenly winced as she heard something break from inside the kitchen, but she didn’t move and Helen smiled. “Diane?”
“Probably,” Nikki said, “But you were right, Jenna had much better success training her than I ever did. And that’s the first breakage in two weeks, so I can’t really complain. For a while there, I was buying a new box of mugs every other day.”
Helen laughed and drained the last of her coffee. Grabbing her briefcase, she rose from her seat, and leaned over Nikki as she kissed her lightly. “Patience, sweetheart. You’re making a real difference with them.”
“Maybe. Now isn’t it time you started to make your own difference? Call me if you’re going to be late.”
“I promise.”
Halfway to work, Helen’s mobile went off and she dug it out of her blazer pocket, flipping it open when she saw the number of the Unit. “Hello?”
“Helen, could you pop over to Fossmore before you come in? I just got a call from Dr. Waugh. He wants to talk with you.” Della sounded a bit exasperated. “I do hope this means he’s changed his mind. I let him know how little I appreciated his obstruction on this matter.”
“I hope so, too,” Helen said, frowning. Knowing Thomas, having Della lecture him would only make him more stubborn.
“In any event, Helen, I would like this matter settled today, one way or the other. You can’t afford to waste any more time on this.”
The implication was clear in Della’s voice and Helen winced as she took the next right, heading for Fossmore. It was the first time Della had put pressure on her about anything and she felt it all the more for such scarcity. Area Management must be going wild about the situation and pressing Della about it. “I understand. I’ll do what I can.”
At Fossmore, it took a while to work through the necessary security procedures, and she was impatient by the time she was escorted up to Thomas’s office. She hoped that he wasn’t just wasting her time.
“Helen, I’m glad you were able to come over,” he said, looking a bit anxious as she took the seat he offered. “We really need to settle this issue with Shell once and for all.”
“I agree.” He seemed a bit off and Helen regarded him suspiciously. “What’s she done?”
He affected an offended expression. “What makes you think she’s done anything?”
“The fact that you called me here,” Helen said dryly as she studied him closely. There was a small trickle of sweat beading at his hairline and it slipped down his temple. “I’ve made my position perfectly clear, Thomas and I haven’t changed it. It would be a complete abdication of my responsibility, not only to Shell, but also to society, to simply set her free without any kind of parole follow-up. I realize she might not take advantage of her rehabilitation opportunities at Holloway, but I must give her the opportunity to try. Her sentence plan at this point indicates she most certainly will re-offend if she’s released without further help. I have to do everything in my power to prevent that, for her sake, if nothing else.”
“Fine.” He let out his breath in a frustrated gust. “I’ll sign the transfer papers.”
Helen lifted her brow. Now she was certain Shell had done something. “What’s happened, Thomas? Depending on how serious it is, I don’t have a problem keeping it off the record.”
He stared at her for a moment, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere but where he was. Helen just knew this was going to be a classic Shell debacle. Then he seemed to collapse into himself, surrendering to the inevitable. “It was during our session yesterday.”
“Go on.”
“I had to step out of the office for a moment to speak with the facility’s administrator about the situation. He had a call from your boss, apparently.”
“I see.” Helen bit the inside of her cheek. This was like pulling teeth. It had to be bad, or at least, Thomas had been blindsided by it.
“When I went back in…Shell was completely naked and lying on my sofa, indicating that she was ready to ‘reward’ me for all I’ve done for her.” Inadvertently, he glanced over at the piece of furniture in question, upholstered in dark brown leather to match his chairs and winced. “Unfortunately, I didn’t get the door shut before the administrator saw and heard her. He eventually accepted my explanation that there was absolutely no provocation on my part to incite such an act by Shell, but for some reason, I don’t think he entirely believes it.”
Nikki is just going to love this, Helen thought.
“So, let me get this straight, Shell embarrassed you and rather than maintain the position that you’ve been so passionately defending to me this past month, about how she was merely a product of her environment and how you were in the best position to help her, now you just want her gone? And it doesn’t matter how that happens or where she ends up?” Helen pinned him with a searing look that made him cringe. “You’re just washing your hands of the whole thing?”
“On the contrary, this incident has convinced me that you’re right, Helen,” he tried to explain. “Shell’s not ready to operate in normal society despite any help I could offer her. She has no sense of right or wrong, no sense of how to function. Releasing her would not be a kindness for her.”
Helen was thoroughly disgusted. “You realize that your defense of her over the past month made her feel that you cared for her personally,” she pointed out mercilessly. “In Shell’s world, because of her family history, she’s just thanking you in the only way she knows how. She wasn’t trying to embarrass or harm you in any way.”
Thomas opened his mouth to object, hesitated, and then spread out his hands, looking rather helpless. “What do you want from me, Helen? It’s clear that’s she’s become fixated on me. I can’t continue to function as her counselor. There’s no one else who will take on her case after this and we’re overworked as it is. If you won’t sign the release papers, then I have to authorize the transfer. She can’t stay here.”
“No, she can’t, but you should be signing those papers because it’s the right thing to do for Shell, not because you’re trying to save face in front of your superior and colleagues.” Helen wanted to say more, realized it was futile and closed her mouth with a snap. Savagely, she pulled out the necessary forms from her briefcase. “Sign them and prepare Shell for a transfer first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll clear it with Holloway today.”
Defeated, Thomas took the papers and signed his name, almost without looking at what he was doing. Again, Helen wondered what the hell she had ever saw in him, comparing his bailing at the first sign of trouble with Nikki’s fiery passion. Nikki never would have backed down had she been in his position, Helen knew. Once she’d accepted the responsibility of protecting Shell, she would have fought to protect her with her last breath. To know Nikki had been hurt on his account…Helen was almost ill at the thought.
“Good-bye, Thomas,” she said, taking the papers back and placing them in her briefcase. With any luck, she wouldn’t have to work with him again.
The next day, she showed up at Fossmore at the same time as the van from Holloway. Shell was not at all pleased at her change in status, and the straightjacket the facility had so thoughtfully provided to keep her from hurting herself was probably the only thing that kept her under control as they bundled her into the back of the vehicle. It certainly saved her escorts the various bruises they’d be suffering otherwise.
The look Shell offered Helen as they closed the doors was not promising and Helen knew this was not going to be one of her easier transfers. Shipping Nikki out and back into Larkhall during one of Helen’s more conflicted periods as wing governor had been a doodle in comparison.
Arriving at Holloway shortly before the van, Helen had a front row seat for Shell’s arrival. She spotted Helen the moment she stepped out and immediately launched into a foul-mouthed diatribe about Helen’s personal habits, her family ties to various animals, and her probable sexual habits involving inanimate objects. Much to the amusement and vast entertainment to all in attendance…excluding Helen…the outpouring of venom continued across the yard and into the reception block. By the time Shell had finally been processed and was about to be taken off for her medical, Helen was sporting a king-sized headache.
She tried for her most conciliatory tone. “This is where I leave you, Shell. I’ll stop by to see you in a week or so to see how you’re settling in.”
“Go pluck your twat.”
Helen’s last view of Shell was of her striding through the wing, already slipping into her top dog persona, which was probably not the wisest course of action, at least until she determined who the top dogs really were and how dangerous they could be. But that was Shell through and through.
If anyone was determined to fail, it was Shell Dockley.
Savory odors filled the flat as Nikki bustled about the kitchen. Barbara Hunt had been released the previous day, and as promised, she was on her way over to Nikki and Helen’s for a celebratory dinner. Nikki was nearly beside herself in delight and could hardly wait to see her friend again.
The sound of the door made her look up from the tray of appetizers she was preparing. Helen entered from the foyer, placed her briefcase on the computer desk by the staircase and offered Nikki a wan smile. “All set for tonight?”
“I am,” Nikki said, studying her. “You don’t seem to be.”
“I’m a little tired but I’ll be fine,” Helen promised as she moved over to the breakfast bar and selected one of the nibbles. Nikki didn’t protest, suspecting that she had a rough day and needed the sustenance.
“How did you get on with Dockley today?”
“Not well. She’s still blaming me for everything. She’s convinced I somehow tricked Thomas into signing the transfer papers and as a result, it’s like talking to a brick wall. I haven’t a hope in hell of persuading her to join any of the programs I’d like to start her on.”
“Once you’re in her bad books, that’s it,” Nikki said in a practical tone. “Shell’s the queen of grudges.”
Helen sighed. “I know. I’m recommending a caseworker for her, and I’ll try to oversee her progress from behind the scenes. Maybe I can help Shell without her even knowing I’m involved.”
“That sounds like a good idea.” Nikki leaned over and kissed her gently. “Listen, why don’t you go in and have a nice, hot bath. Barbara and Henry won’t be here until seven.”
Helen offered a grateful look. “That sounds fantastic, sweetheart. If I’m not back in a n hour, you’d better come and check on me. I might have drowned.”
Nikki smiled, but made a mental note to do just that. She doubted she’d drown, but she had discovered Helen snoozing away in the tub before, head resting on the ledge as the water cooled around her, a blissful smile on her face. But not quite an hour had passed before Helen returned, looking considerably refreshed and dressed in a brown suede skirt with an emerald sweater that set off her eyes. Nikki eyed her appreciatively.
“You look fantastic,” she said warmly.
Helen smiled and kissed her cheek. “Thanks to you,” she murmured. “While I was choosing what to wear, I realized you’ve completely revamped my wardrobe since your release.”
Nikki grinned as she thought of how she’d taken shameless advantage of the past two Christmases and birthdays to give the gifts that Helen would refuse on principle any other time. It was taking a while to ease Helen into the concept that money was readily available to her, but she was getting there. “Well, we had to get rid of those twin sets somehow.”
Helen shot her a look. “I thought you liked my ‘Larkhall look’.”
“Your power suits, yeah, but those twin sets, God, Helen, they were awful. I was so relieved when you stopped wearing them.” Nikki uncorked the wine so that it could breathe before their guests arrived.
Helen smiled faintly and snagged another appetizer. The buzz of the intercom caused them to exchange glances. “A bit early,” Helen noted.
“Maybe they’re hungry,” Nikki said in bemusement as she crossed over to the panel. Pressing the button, she leaned next to the grill. “Barbara?”
“Hi, Nikki. Sorry, we’re early, but traffic wasn’t as bad as we anticipated. We also didn’t realize how close you are to the parish.”
“Come on up.” Nikki smiled broadly and buzzed them through before going out into the corridor to wait for them. When Barbara finally reached the top of the stairs, Nikki pulled her into a warm embrace. “Welcome back to the world,” she whispered into her ear.
That was all either needed to promptly burst into a soppy mess of tears, snuffling and laughter at how ridiculous they were both being. Beside them, Nikki was aware of Helen greeting Henry warmly, and inviting him into their flat. She and Barbara followed them in a few minutes later, after getting a hold of emotions that neither expected to feel so strongly.
“Oh, Nikki, this is lovely.” Barbara looked about with shining eyes and Nikki almost burst with pride as she showed her around, explaining about the renovation and how she had started the bistro. But by the time they were descending from the loft, she saw that Barbara’s gaze had become a bit glazed and knew she had gone a little overboard. She had forgotten how hard it had been to process new things right after her release and ruefully, she led her into the living room where Helen had been graciously entertaining Henry.
“Here, have a seat,” she invited, settling her into the big chair with a glass of wine and a platter of nibbles nearby. “Tell me what you’ve been up to since yesterday.”
“Mostly enjoying being out again,” Barbara admitted. “Henry took me out to an Indian restaurant last night.” She favored the gray-haired man with a fond smile. “It was absolutely delicious.”
“You know, I think we take so much for granted,” he said quietly. “You’ve allowed me to see things with fresh eyes.”
“That’s how I felt with Nikki after her release,” Helen confessed. “She pointed out so much that I hadn’t noticed before that, wonderful things that had completely escaped my attention.”
“Not that I’d recommend being banged up for a while just to appreciate it all once you’re out,” Nikki muttered dryly as she sipped her wine. She flashed a smile at Barbara who smiled back.
“Not at all,” she agreed quickly and they both laughed.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Helen and Henry exchange a look and realized that no matter how close she and Helen became, there would always be that little separation between them, the difference between working in a prison and being imprisoned in one. What she could share with Barbara, and Monica and even the women working in her bistro was something that Helen would never completely grasp, not unless she one day found herself in a similar situation. And Nikki prayed fervently that she never would.
Without looking, she reached out and linked her fingers with Helen’s, squeezing lightly and felt her squeeze back. “Well, I can’t offer you a curry, but I hope you like what I made for dinner. I tried to keep it basic because I know how hard it is getting used to real food again after all the slop they served at Larkhall.”
“I’m sure it’ll be delicious.” Barbara shook her head. “I still can’t believe you ended up running a bistro, Nikki. In the entire time we shared a cell, you never once mentioned that you enjoyed cooking.”
Nikki shrugged. “It wasn’t until I started working with Palmo that I realized I was more than just competent in the kitchen. I always liked to cook, but he’s the one who taught me there’s a real art to it.” She tilted her head. “So, what are you planning now?”
“For employment, you mean?” Barbara smiled. “Taking care of Henry, of course. Well, providing I ever see him.”
“My new Parish is near Paddington,” Henry explained. “Unfortunately, there’s no vicarage and so I’m spending over two hours a day driving to and from Wimbledon. I had no idea the traffic in London was so bad.”
Barbara sighed. “We may have to think about moving but it’s been so long since I’ve had to look at houses. I’m not quite sure where to begin.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Nikki offered instantly. “I’ll help you look. We should be able to come up with something decent.”
“Thank you, Nikki,” Barbara said warmly and the relief in her eyes made Nikki realize how grateful she really was. That was another thing Nikki needed to remember; how overwhelming everything could be when rejoining society. With Henry busy with his new parish, it was possible he wouldn’t be able to spend all the time needed to help his new wife adapt to the outside.
There was a quiet ding from the direction of the kitchen and Nikki rose quickly. “That’s my cue,” she said. She glanced at Helen. “Darling?”
“Of course,” Helen said, taking over smoothly.
While she looked after their guests, Nikki went out to take care of the roast beef. Though a vegetarian, she would occasionally make a meat dish for Helen, who had no intention of giving up her occasional chop. And Nikki knew that one of the very few things Barbara had admitted to missing from the outside world during their incarceration had been an old-fashioned roast beef dinner with all the trimmings.
Barbara clapped her hands together when she brought over the platter to the dining table where they were already seated. “Oh, Nikki, you remembered.”
“Henry, if you’d do the honors,” Nikki grinned, offering him the carving utensils.
But of course, they had to say grace first. With bent head, Nikki glanced across the table at Helen from beneath lowered lids. To her surprise, Helen mouthed the words to the prayer along with Henry. Filing that away as something she might need to deal with in the future, Nikki was relieved when the formalities were over and she could start serving the food.
As they ate, Nikki and Barbara couldn’t resist reminiscing about their time in Larkhall. “Honestly, if it wasn’t for you looking out for me, Nikki, I can’t imagine how much trouble I’d have found myself in.”
“You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself,” Nikki scoffed. “You’re the one who broke Dockley’s bloody wrist when she gave you a hard time.” Across the table, she was aware of Helen’s astounded look. “You know, she’s in Holloway, now. Helen arranged it. Got her out of the muppet mansion.”
“Oh, that’s good. I admit I didn’t like her, she scared me rigid, but she didn’t deserve what Fenner did to her. Well done, Miss Stewart.”
“No more of that, please.” Holding up a hand as she made a face. “It’s Helen.”
“Very well, Helen. Are you working at Holloway, now? Nikki couldn’t share very much in her letters because of the censorship.”
“I’m actually with the Rehabilitation Unit at the Home Office, now,” Helen explained. “But I’m also running a series of specialized outreach programs to help those prisoners who slip through the cracks because of their special circumstances.”
“And if Fenner isn’t a ‘special circumstance’, I don’t know what is,” Nikki said flatly. “The bloody bastard.”
“Frankly, I think you’re being a bit too complimentary,” Barbara said. Then she glanced at Henry. “But for the sake of my husband, I won’t come up with the terms I have for him.”
“Well, this is far too wonderful a celebration to ruin it with his presence, even if it’s only by mentioning his name.” Helen pointed out as she lifted her glass of wine. “Instead, let’s drink to your release, Barbara.”
“I have a better idea,” Barbara said with a wry smile. “Let’s drink to Yvonne Atkins and her ‘early release’.”
Nikki laughed delightedly. Hearing about Yvonne’s escape a week earlier had absolutely made her day, though Helen had been less enthused about it. She’d found out through her contacts at the Unit a full twenty-four hours before Larkhall revealed news of the escape to the press. She told Nikki as soon as she came home from work and Nikki had spent the next day providing free coffee to her customers in celebration, much to their delight and her staff’s bewilderment about what exactly was being celebrated.
“I agree,” she said, raising her glass high. “To Yvonne. I trust that wherever she is, it’s warm, there are a lot of palm trees and she’s shagging all the good-looking waiters silly.”
“To Yvonne.”
Nikki and Barbara drank lustily and after a few seconds, Helen and Henry followed suit, though Nikki suspected that it was more because they wanted to be good sports rather than because they understood why their women were so happy about Yvonne taking a runner from the prison.
Now if only the Julies could find themselves a way out, Nikki wouldn’t have anyone left to worry about in Larkhall and she could stop thinking about the wretched place once and for all.
“God, I hadn’t realized just how much Nikki got up to while she was in Larkhall,” Helen said to Henry as they sipped their coffee and watched Nikki and Barbara laughing uproariously over the recounting of yet another of their escapades. “Perhaps it’s just as well I didn’t.”
“Yes, you were working on G-wing when you met her,” he said. “Barbara told me a little about it. It must have been very difficult once you developed feelings for Nikki.”
“You have no idea,” Helen said with a sigh.
“The moral implications of falling in love with someone to whom I was supposed to be administering to in a professional capacity kept me up many a night,” Henry said in a contemplative tone. “I struggled mightily with all the ethical quandaries I felt, as well as the spiritual ones. To try to balance the love for Barbara that I cherished even as I knew it would be considered a wrongdoing in our situation, practically tore me apart at times.”
“Well, maybe you do have a wee idea,” Helen admitted dryly. She glanced at him, seeing the kindness in his face, and the easy gaze of someone who always chose acceptance rather than judgment, compassion rather than punishment. “How did you come to terms with it?”
He smiled. “I suspect in much the same way you did. Determining that it was love and not mere lust, that it was true and real and not merely an infatuation, and that in the end, loving her was worth far more than any career repercussion.”
“I’m afraid my struggles spilled over onto Nikki far too many times,” Helen said with a touch of shame. “Having to deal with them on top of everything else she had to face in prison…well, it was grossly unfair. I’m constantly amazed that she was able to survive it all, let alone come through it with the capacity to keep loving me in spite of it.”
“Perhaps she loved you because of it rather than in spite of it,” he offered gently. “Those struggles are often what binds a couple together, and allows you both to know that whatever happens, you can always count on each other. Such trust is so difficult to earn and, I’m afraid, sometimes casually discarded once the struggles are over. I’m glad to see that doesn’t seem to be the case with you.”
“I know how hard it was to earn that sort of trust from Nikki,” Helen admitted. “Especially after her release. I swear I’ll die before I ever lose it again.”
He smiled. “Then you’ll be fine, just as Barbara and I will be.”
“I hope so.” She took a sip of her coffee, noticing it was becoming a bit cool. “I need to warm this up. Can I offer you some?”
“Please,” he said, and followed her from the living area into the kitchen. He took a seat at the breakfast bar as she refilled his cup and topped off her own.
“My father was a minister,” she said, unsure why she said it, only that it had popped out before she thought about it.
His eyebrow lifted. “I didn’t know that.”
“No reason why you should.” Helen put down her mug and stared moodily into its dark depths. “I never told him about Nikki and me.”
“You never had the opportunity?”
“I never had the courage,” she admitted shamefully. “I have a pretty good idea how he would have reacted. And now I’ll never have the chance. He passed away a few months ago.”
“I’m sorry, Helen.” He reached over and touched her hand, just a fleeting brush but comforting nonetheless. “Are you so sure he wouldn’t have accepted your relationship?”
“Positive,” she said flatly. “He’s offered up more than one sermon on the evils of homosexuality over the years.”
“But it’s different when it’s your own child. Such…fear…thrives best in ignorance. Once the ignorance is lifted, sometimes the hatred and fear are, as well.”
“Sometimes. I guess I’ll never know, now.”
“Maybe not.” He shook his head. “But maybe he would have condemned your love for Nikki, just as you feared. I thoroughly understand your reluctance to face such an unpleasant experience. My family turned their back on me because they didn’t approve or accept my marriage to Barbara. Most of them refused to attend the wedding. The only one who did, my brother, Clive, conducted himself in the worst manner possible. I actually had to throw him out of the ceremony because of his poor behavior.”
“I’m sorry, Henry. I’m not sure what to say.”
“It was a very painful and harsh experience,” Henry admitted. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to go through it. And in the end, it truly doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. What matters is how I feel for Barbara, and my life with her. I will live that life in continual joy of her presence.”
“That’s perfect.” Helen lifted her mug and changed the subject. “So, your new parish is over on Paddington. That’s not far from here. I don’t suppose you’d mind if I drop by on Sundays?”
“Not at all,” he said with a warm smile. “You and Nikki will be most welcome.”
“Well, I can’t guarantee Nikki will be there,” Helen said with a wry grin as she looked back toward the living room. “But I’ll ask her.”
That night as she lay in Nikki’s arms, listening to her heartbeat, and thinking about everything they had been through, she thought that perhaps Henry was right. Perhaps all the struggles they experienced had just made their bond stronger in the end, even when it felt as if those struggles were tearing them apart. It was nice to think so, at any rate.
“Hey.” Nikki nudged her gently, her voice low in the darkness. “What’s filling your head?”
Helen smiled and rubbed her cheek along Nikki’s breastbone, enjoying the sensation of soft skin against her face. “Henry and I had a nice little chat about things. I think I’ll start attending his services, beginning with this Sunday.”
“Okay.” Nikki absorbed that. “Are you expecting me to join you?”
“Only if you want to. I never had the impression that you were particularly religious. Am I wrong?”
“No, religion and I never seemed to mix for a variety of reasons. I suppose you grew up with it, though. Do you miss it?”
“Sometimes,” Helen said, a bit wistfully. “It would be nice to attend a church where love and acceptance is the rule rather than the exception.”
“Well, there are a lot of gays and lesbians living in that area,” Nikki admitted. “If Henry really wants to turn the parish around, it wouldn’t hurt to cater to them a bit.”
“You know, you can be a bit too practical, Nikki. It’s not a business.”
“Organized religion? I can’t think of a bigger business.” Nikki paused, as if realizing this was too close to the bone for Helen for her to be joking about it. “Well, darling, if you want to go to church on Sundays, I suppose I can drag my sorry bones out of bed and go with you. A little spirituality wouldn’t hurt me. At least, Barbara always thought so.”
And over the next few weeks, they attended the morning services every Sunday in the little church that shared the same block as a sex shop and some run-down town houses. While Nikki didn’t become any more enamored with the whole religious experience, she did enjoy having tea with Barbara once the service had finished. Helen just appreciated being in the familiar trappings of a church again, while Henry was the sort of minister she’d always wished her father had been. There weren’t many in the congregation yet, and of them, Helen and Nikki were the youngest in attendance, but everyone hoped that with a little time and effort, things would eventually turn around. Henry even talked about starting a choir and tried to convince Helen that she should sing in it. That idea tickled Nikki so much that she threw the weight of her opinion on his side, going so far as to buy Helen some spiritual music CDs so that she could ‘practice’.
At this point, Helen was starting to consider it. As she drove to work that Friday morning, she sang along with the car stereo, wondering if she could carry a tune or if she was just fooling herself. As she got out of her car, she glanced over to see Dominic pulling in across from her and waited until he joined her so they could walk in together. The rest of her Friday was unremarkable and nearly done when Sarah popped her head around Helen’s office door.
“Della has some news,” she said. “She wants you all to join her in the conference room.”
Helen frowned at her computer screen, but obediently rose from her chair and left her office where she joined Dominic who was also on his way to the rear of their office suite. The Unit’s psychologist, and consulting medical officer were already seated at the long table. Paul was writing in a file while Joan lounged in her chair. She shot a look at Helen as she entered with her usual expression, a sort of supercilious contempt that always made Helen want to dump one of the ever-present pitchers of ice water over her head. She managed a polite nod to her, offered a warm smile to Paul, of whom she had grown rather fond, and took a seat. Dominic settled in beside her.
“Anyone know what this is about?” he asked.
Paul shook his head and Joan shrugged. “There’s been a death at one of the prisons,” she said. “We may be required to provide some counseling services, and set up some programs to smooth things over with the inmates.”
Disturbed, Helen was about to ask more questions when Della entered. A short, stocky woman, she dominated a room with the sheer weight of her dynamic personality. Immediately, Helen turned her attention to the head of the table, an unpleasant sensation skittering down her spine. Something bad had happened. She could just feel it.
“I’ve just been informed that a body has been discovered in what used to be the hanging cell at HMP Larkhall,” Della announced without any preamble. “It’s been identified as Yvonne Atkins, the woman who was believed to have escaped the prison six weeks ago. She was trapped in a blocked off corridor and apparently died either of starvation or suffocation, it’s not clear yet. A full investigation has been launched to determine exactly how and what happened. Once that’s completed and the lockdown is lifted, we’ll be expected to institute our standard counseling programs.”
She went on to say a few more things that Helen didn’t hear, the blood thundering in her ears as she gasped for breath. For a moment, darkness shuttered her gaze and when she finally came back to her surroundings, she realized that she had missed the rest of Della’s pronouncement. No one seemed to have noticed Helen’s momentary retreat from reality, too busy discussing what might have happened.
“Well, at least we don’t have to worry about her being out on the streets and hiring more hit-men,” Joan said coolly. “Perhaps this should be considered justice served.”
Helen stared at her in complete outrage. “Yvonne didn’t deserve to die,” she said with growing anger. “And especially not that way.”
Joan lifted a brow. “I know you tend to have a soft spot for these criminals, Helen, but honestly, even you have to admit that she accepted the risk of something going wrong by attempting to escape in the first place.” She shook her head. “Sometimes I think your relationship with an ex-convict has colored your view in a rather dangerous fashion.”
“Dr. Moore,” Della rumbled warningly.
“I’m just saying that perhaps Helen lacks objectivity in these matters,” Joan said in a reasonable tone, though a small little smirk played about her mouth. “It may prevent her from seeing who these people really are beneath their fashionable façade.” It wasn’t the first time she had said something similar, but it was the first time it had provoked Helen in such a visceral way, perhaps because the last was clearly a shot at Nikki rather than Yvonne.
“I know what you’re saying, you miserable bitch,” she spat, rising to her feet to lean over the table toward her, bracing herself with her hands flat on the cold surface. She had not felt this furious in a while, not even at Shell. “Not that I’d expect someone so clearly without any sort of human emotion to understand the concepts of love and compassion.”
“Helen!” Della was appalled.
“Take it easy, Helen,” Dominic muttered in an undertone. “Don’t let her wind you up.”
Helen ignored them. “God, I can’t believe they allowed you to join the register,” she continued in a scathing tone as she raked Joan up and down with her most contemptuous look. “Did you actually take the Hippocratic Oath? I’m sure there’s something in there about not harming others and to tell you the truth, I can’t see you doing anything but. Face it, Joan, you’re a disgrace to your profession, a blight on the prison services and as a human being, you’re a complete and utter cunt.”
That last was the worst word Helen could think of, the worst insult she could ever bestow on someone, and apparently, Joan thought so as well. Her face had grown dangerously red at Helen’s tongue lashing, and she jumped out of her chair. But where Helen had been content to stand and deliver her condemnation in a verbal fashion, Joan was ready to escalate their disagreement to a physical level. Paul, thinking quickly, grabbed Joan by the waist and managed to pull her back far enough that her wild swing missed by a few millimeters, though Helen felt the breeze of it brush over her jaw. Della was slapping her hand on the table, shouting something about having some professional decorum, while Dominic had risen to put a cautionary hand on Helen’s shoulder in the event she felt compelled to take a swing back at Joan. Shaken, because she certainly hadn’t expected to provoke an actual physical confrontation…violence made her ill…Helen sat back down, her knees weak and unable to support her any longer.
Paul hustled Joan out of the conference room and Dominic went to help him once he saw that Helen wasn’t ready to mix it up anymore.
A few moments of stunned silence passed, and then Della let out her breath. “Well, I wish I could say I didn’t see a blowup coming between you two, but the truth is, I did. I just didn’t think it would come so soon or become so physical. Nor did I think you’d ever lose your composure like that, Helen.”
“She’d try the patience of a saint, Della.”
“Yes, she can, but she’s one of the few doctors that will offer her time to the Unit. It’s not like we have a lot of competent medical personal willing to work in the prison service.”
“Who said she was competent?”
“Helen.” Della’s tone was reproving.
“I’m sorry, Della. You’re right. I shouldn’t have lost it like that. Do you want me to apologize to her?” Helen hated the idea, but she knew that she should. Regardless of how Joan had acted, she expected better of herself. By letting her provoke such a reaction from her, Joan had ended up winning this round in her own twisted way…just as Fenner often had.
“What’s the point? She wouldn’t accept it and anyway, we both know that it wouldn’t exactly be sincere on your part. No, we might as well just spare ourselves the hypocrisy.” Della sighed. “To be completely honest, Helen, I’m at a loss as to why that particular comment upset you so much. Granted, it was tasteless but Joan was correct in saying that Atkins was a hardened and habitual criminal. She was a member of an organized crime family that supplied drugs to most of the dealers in London, who then went on to prey on the very women we’re trying to help.”
“I can’t deny that,” Helen said, her temper still high. “But Yvonne was also smart and funny and kindhearted. She looked out for the kids on G-wing, and never let anyone bully them. In other circumstances, she would have been a great woman. It’s just that for those who didn’t know her, she won’t be remembered that way and that’s a tragedy.”
Della stared at her, and then shook her head. “I admire your compassion, Helen, I really do. But it’s best to know when and where to apply it. Area Management has…” She paused, obviously searching for words.
“What? Area Management what?” Helen asked sharply.
Della looked away, clearly sorry she had started this. “It’s just that when I hired you, a few people warned me about your…well, your passion about prison reform.”
Helen felt her jaw tighten. “I thought that passion was the whole reason you hired me.”
“It is,” Della said quickly. “But sometimes, Helen you need to be more circumspect about how you present it, particularly to those who are more Home Office employees than Unit members.”
“If that means I’m not supposed to give my opinion about an inmate, no matter what people who never even met her might think about her,” Helen said tartly, “then I’ll be sure to keep it to myself, next time.”
Della flinched. “I’m just saying that a lot of this job is knowing how to play politics. You must realize that, Helen. And while I understand why you might feel the way you do about certain topics, others in Area Management might not.”
“Then I’m glad I don’t have your job, Della.”
Helen was about to storm out, but a part of her knew Della was right, and that she was very fortunate that she had a boss who was generally so understanding and supportive. God knew she’d had plenty enough of the other kind since entering the prison service to know she couldn’t afford to alienate Della. Nor did she want to. She genuinely liked her.
With an effort, Helen paused, inhaled slowly and squared her shoulders, taking a second to moderate her tone into something more conciliatory. “I appreciate what you’re trying to say, Della. I’ll keep it in mind and try not be so…passionate around those outside the Unit.”
Della shook her head, and her faint smile was tinged with sadness, as if knowing how much such a concession had cost Helen. “Have a good weekend, dear. And try not to take everything so personally. For your own peace of mind if nothing else.”
Helen bit back her initial response. “I’ll try.”
On the drive home, she alternated between anger at the whole career she had chosen for herself and trepidation at how Nikki was going to react. She knew Nikki and Yvonne had been friends, but just how close their relationship was remained a mystery to her. Nikki had never really talked about it other than a story or two about their more mundane adventures in prison. In fact, there was a lot that Helen knew Nikki held back from her, even now. The dinner with Barbara and Henry had been one revelation after another and there was no question that there was a certain barrier that being on opposite side of the bars created between them, particularly from Nikki’s side of things.
Trudging up the stairs to the flat, it seemed as if the weight on her shoulders grew heavier the closer she got to the top. Inside, she found Nikki working on her laptop at the desk. She looked up as Helen entered and smiled warmly, just as she always did when Helen came home, but the smile faded as she took in Helen’s expression.
“What is it, darling?” Nikki demanded, rising to her feet. “What’s wrong?”
Helen hesitated and then realized that there was no easy way to say it. “It's about Yvonne Atkins.”
Nikki's face fell. “Shit, Helen, don't tell me they caught her.” She shook her head. “Bollocks, I thought she'd be sunning herself on a beach somewhere on the Costa del Crime by now.”
“No, they didn't catch her.” Helen swallowed hard. “She never made it out of Larkhall, Nikki. They found her body in an abandoned section of the prison, the old hanging cell. She got trapped somehow. No one knew she was there until it was too late.”
She saw Nikki's face turn completely white as she swayed and quickly, Helen took her arm and guided her to a nearby chair where she collapsed. For a long moment, Nikki just shook, eyes staring straight ahead in shock and Helen put her hands on her shoulders, trying to ground her and keep her from completely flying apart.
“I'm right here, sweetheart,” she said in a low voice. “I've got you.” She wondered if she had looked like that upon hearing about her father’s death.
If so, she understood why Nikki had sounded so helpless as she tried to comfort her. Because right now she didn’t have a clue how to help the woman she loved in this moment of complete and utter devastation.
Somehow Nikki made it through the rest of that night, and through the next day at the bistro, though Helen had urged her to let Kate take over for her. Nikki refused, unable to bear staying in the flat doing nothing, and not wanting to lash out at Helen in some misdirected expulsion of anger and grief. She knew it wasn’t Helen’s fault, but she blamed the whole, wretched prison service for Yvonne’s death and because of her job, Helen was a part of that. At least down in the café, Nikki could concentrate on work and not think about anything else.
After closing, she hesitated by the door leading the stairwell. It had become a tradition to go upstairs, shower and find Helen waiting for her in their bed on Saturday afternoons. Part of her wanted nothing more than to carry on as usual, to lose herself in the warmth of Helen’s arms, and let pleasure wash away the pain…to forget everything by basking in the joyful warmth of her body. But another part of Nikki felt sick at the very thought of embracing the best part of her life while Yvonne’s was gone.
And the worst part was, she knew Yvonne would be scoffing at her for being so soppy about it. She loved life and wouldn’t have wanted to die, but if it had happened to anyone else, she would have mourned a bit, cursed a bit, and then promptly got on with things. Wallowing about in sorrow wasn’t her thing, and she sure as hell wouldn’t have expected it from Nikki on her account.
Exhaling, Nikki reached out for the doorknob only to feel it turn in her hand. Startled, she let go, waiting as the door opened to reveal Helen. She had her jacket on, and was carrying Nikki’s over her arm.
“Hey,” she said and held it out to her. “Thought you might like to go for a walk.”
Nikki stared at her for a moment, and then felt her shoulders slump as the tension left them. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’d like,” she admitted.
She took the jacket and slipped it on. After locking the door, she followed Helen out onto the pavement. She took the hand Helen extended and they began to walk, picking a direction at random. They didn’t talk, just walked with easy stride, not hurrying, just being. And as they did, Nikki felt the tightness in her chest start to loosen, allowing more and more autumn air to fill her lungs with every breath.
“Barbara told me that the reason Yvonne did a runner was that she was convinced Fenner was going to top her,” she said finally. She shot a glance at Helen and saw her face grow pale. “And before you ask, no, she doesn’t have any proof. It was just something she told me over tea a few Sundays ago.”
Helen swallowed hard. “I had a call from Della. She said that the forensic team is leaning toward murder. If it was Fenner…” She bent her head. “Maybe this time they’ll get him.”
Nikki shook her head. “I don’t believe that, Helen,” she said wearily. “Worse, I don’t think I even care anymore. Even if they convict the bastard and bury him in his own cell, it won’t bring Yvonne back. It won’t change what he did to you or to me or to Rachel or to all the other women he’s victimized over the years. And the minute they do manage to get rid of him, another bastard will step right up and take over where he left off. It never ends.”
“Ah, Nikki.” Helen didn’t seem to know what else to say. She stopped and Nikki was forced to stop, too, their hands still linked tightly. She looked up into Nikki’s face, her eyes dark and intent. “Please, don’t give up.”
Nikki shook her head. “I’m not giving up, Helen. Not on you or my friends or what I can do in my life out here. But with Larkhall, I can’t…I’m just so fucking tired of it all.”
Helen maintained their gaze, and then she finally nodded. “I understand.”
“Do you?” Nikki couldn’t figure out how she could. She didn’t even really understand. She just felt empty inside.
“Yeah, I do,” Helen said and stepped closer, slipping her arms around Nikki’s waist. “Now just hold onto me for a while. I think you need me right now.”
“I do.” Nikki closed her eyes and dropped her head, inhaling the warm scent of Helen’s hair and skin. She didn’t know how long they stood there on the pavement, or even wonder about what kind of spectacle they might be presenting to anyone that might be passing by. Finally, Helen loosened her embrace and they resumed their walk, still holding hands.
After an hour of strolling the roads in the neighborhood, they finally made their way back to their street. As they neared the nightclub, Nikki spotted Trisha’s car parked out front. “Why don’t you go on ahead? I need to have a word with Trish.”
Helen hesitated, but then nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you when you get home.”
Inside the club, Nikki spotted a light under the door indicating someone was in the office. She was about to enter when an awkward memory intruded and she stopped to knock instead.
“Come in.”
Trisha was alone and she looked at Nikki oddly when she entered. “Jesus, I didn’t know who it was. It’s not like you to knock.”
“Hey, I learned my lesson last time,” Nikki said as she settled in the chair by the desk.
Trisha grinned wryly. “So, did I. The bloody door will be locked and barred by the chair any time I need privacy.” She tilted her head as she studied Nikki. “You all right? You look a bit knackered. Did you and Helen have a row?”
“No, we’re fine. We were out for a stroll and I saw your car parked out front. I was wondering what you were doing here so early.”
Trisha leaned back in the office chair, linking her hands over her head. “I’m just going over a few things before taking off. Lydia is closing tonight. Claire and I have plans.”
“Oh, yeah?” Nikki knew Trisha had scheduled one weekend off a month so she and Claire could spend time together. “You going out to dinner?”
“Actually, I’m moving my stuff into Claire’s flat.”
Trisha delivered that bomb as casually as she pulled a pint behind the bar and it took Nikki a few seconds to realize what she was saying. “What? Oh. Well, that’s great, Trish. When did this happen?”
“We’ve been talking about it awhile and decided to do it this month. I’m putting the house on the market next week.”
“The house?” Nikki thought about the large family home that she and Trisha had shared before her arrest and subsequent incarceration into Larkhall. A sudden idea struck her. “What do you think about selling it back to the company? We could rent it out.”
“Rent it out? Why would we do that?” Trisha stared at Nikki at if she had just decided to grow another head. “What’s going on with you, anyway? Do you and Helen want to move? Though, if you were looking to relocate, I wouldn't mind having your flat for Claire and me. It's gorgeous and her place is still too far from the club for my liking.”
“No, we're happy in our flat,” Nikki explained. “It's my friend Barbara and her husband. You remember me telling you about Barbara Hunt?”
“Of course. She was your cellmate, wasn’t she?”
“She got out a few weeks ago. Right now they're making do in Henry’s house, but they need a place closer to where he works. Unfortunately, they don't have much money so I was thinking that since you're moving in with Claire, they could stay at the house while we take it easy on the rent.”
“That barn’s far too big for two older people,” Trisha pointed out. “Besides, the council finally finished building that new secondary school and property values in the area are going through the roof. I'll make a killing when I put it on the market.”
“Is that why you've been hanging on to it all this time? I thought...” Uncertainly, Nikki trailed off.
Trisha frowned. “What, you thought I had some sort of sentimental hold on it? Be serious. You're the one who wanted it in the first place.”
“Yeah, well, I was going through a bit of a soppy period then,” Nikki said, thinking back to that time when the club had just started to turn over a steady profit, Trisha and she had been happily together for what seemed to be the long term and she had felt the first pangs of a ticking biological clock. Then Gossard had stumbled into their lives, Nikki had stuck a bottle in his neck to protect Trisha from being raped and everything went to shit, including any awareness of having a biological clock in the first place. At this point, despite Helen’s professed wish for children at some time in her future, Nikki wondered if they’d even bother. It seemed enough to do just to maintain their relationship on a happy and even keel, let alone bring kids into it.
Trisha seemed to follow her thought processes and softened her expression. “Water under the bridge, babe,” she said gently.
“Yeah.” With an effort, Nikki shook herself and refocused on the matter at hand. “Shit, I really wanted to help them out. It was a crazy idea, anyway. It probably isn't that much closer.”
Trisha exhaled audibly. “I might know of a little Victorian terrace that would be ideal for an older couple. The area’s not that great, but it's taking a turn for the better. Listen, I’ve been giving it some thought and I think we should consider diversifying. The houses I’m talking about are going for a song now but it’s only a matter of time before everyone else starts jumping on the bandwagon.”
“You want us to get into doing up houses?”
“Remember Danielle, that fit babe who worked on the bistro and your flat?” At Nikki’s nod, Trisha continued. “When she couldn’t get a mortgage, she came to me and asked if I’d lend her some money to get started. I wrote her a cheque out of my personal account and we bought the house I’m talking about. Originally, the intention was to put it straight onto the market for a quick profit, but Danielle and I could sell it to Diva Devotions instead and rent it to your friends, provided you agree to us buying up more property through the company. If we carry on using Danielle as project manager and contract all the labor to her team, we’ll be covering all the angles.”
“It’s a bit risky. The sort of thing where people get their fingers burnt.” But Nikki was already thinking about the possibilities. Buying up low cost houses, renovating them and selling them quickly at a much higher price was easy profit, provided the expected renovation didn’t go over budget. It relied on being a good judge of property values, people and potential problems, all of which she and Trisha excelled at.
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing either,” Trisha said. “Not the losing money, I mean, but that we’d have to outlay investment capital. The club’s doing so well, and now that the bistro is showing a profit, we need to look at our corporate tax situation. Diversifying in a few places will help that out. Besides, Danielle has mostly gay and lesbian labor on her team. Two birds with one stone, Nikki. We always wanted to do more for the community. I know you’re into the whole helping out ex-cons now, but at one time, it was important to you, too.”
“It still is,” Nikki assured her. “So, tell me more about this house.”
“Danielle thinks the renovations will be finished by the end of the month. If you want, we can take your friends over to look at it and see what they think. It’s over in Paddington.”
Nikki stared at her. “You’re shitting me.”
“What? No, why?”
“Because that’s where Henry’s church is. Helen and I have been going over there for services every Sunday.”
“You’ve been going to church?” Now it was Trisha’s turn to stare. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone all religious on me, ‘Nik.”
“Don’t be stupid. It’s just that Helen’s really become attached to the whole thing, I think because of her dad dying and all. I noticed that she’s even looking to Henry as a kind of father figure lately. And she and Barbara have been trying to come up with ideas about how to raise money to repair the roof. I was thinking that we could have a do at the club, a fundraiser of some kind. I just haven’t had a chance to talk to you about it before now. We could get in some acts, maybe do something over a couple of nights, raise enough to resurface the floors as well.”
As she talked, Nikki felt herself start to come alive again, started to feel enthusiastic about her life and what she was doing with it. Trisha’s eyes widened, but she waited until Nikki finished before she offered her opinion. “Well, that area has a large gay and lesbian population so a strong church could be good for the community. It’ll also hasten the revitalization of the area, which will be good for us, especially if we buy up the houses now. Hosting a couple of fundraisers at the club sounds like a great idea.”
“And we’ll become property magnates?”
Trisha laughed. “It’s just doing what you can do, Nikki. That’s all anyone can do. And if we make a little money while we do it, well, hell, doesn’t that just allow us to do a little more down the road?”
Nikki smiled. “I like the way you think, babes.”
“I know. That’s why we’re still partners.”
Feeling considerably better about things, Nikki took her leave and headed for home. As she trotted up the stairs, she realized that the terrible grief that had seized her had finally let go and she was ready to get on with things again. There was no sound in the flat as she entered and no sign of Helen. Glancing toward the bedroom door, she smiled and headed for the bathroom. Shucking her clothing, she stepped into the shower where she washed away the last of the shadows weighing her down.
Out in the bedroom, she discovered Helen curled up in the bed, looking at her with wide eyes.
“Hiya, Nikki.” Her voice was very soft.
“Hello, sweetheart,” Nikki said as she leaned against the door. “You were expecting me?”
“Hoping for you, at any rate.”
Nikki smiled. “Well, you’ve always been my hope, darling. I suppose I can be yours every now and again.”
“Coming to bed?”
“I think I’ll just stand here and look at you for a while.”
“Okay.”
“I love you, you know that.”
“I know. I love you, too.” Helen leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her knees, her eyes searching Nikki’s face. “You look better.”
“I feel better. Got some things figured out. I’ll tell you about them later.”
“Later? Why not now?”
Nikki straightened and slipped out of her robe, tossing it onto the nearby chair and walking toward the bed. “Because,” she said as she slid between the sheets and into Helen’s arms, the warmth of her wrapping around her like a benediction.
“I’m going to be too busy to talk right now.”
The End