The usual disclaimer applies. Characters belong to Shed…. Who so far have kindly decided not to sue me for using them in my stories, and I hope that trend continues!


Chapter One.

Nikki grabbed her bags and walked up to the gates. She was greeted by the women, and after saying her goodbyes for the second time, walked out to the waiting prison van with purpose. She had a feeling deep down that somehow, despite all her own fears and insecurities; she was to become a free woman again. There was only one major blot on the horizon. That Helen had failed to show up for the appeal grated and although she didn’t show it, upset Nikki deeply. Her thoughts were interrupted, and sighing she slide along the small stainless steel seat in the compartment that had been allocated to her in the van as it sped off through the London traffic with no regard to the people who were being flung around in the back.

Helen spent the night tossing and turning in bed. She had spoken at length to Claire about how Nikki’s appeal had gone, and fielded a couple of questions from Claire about why she hadn’t turned up for the hearing. Helen knew the excuses she had given were lame, but she just couldn’t face giving any in-depth response, even if it was to someone who had been a dear friend for so many years now. Eventually, with beads of perspiration forming on her brow, Helen gave up the fight to sleep and got up again. She slipped on a robe, and then laughed to herself when she realised she had unconsciously picked up and wore the one that Nikki had used the night of her escape. Hugging herself using the robe as a comfort, she pushed some of the material up to her face and inhaled. She knew that all trace of Nikki’s scent had long gone, but it still brought her some consolation.

Helen sat right back and lay her head onto the back of the sofa. Thomas’s words kept reverberating around her head.
“You aren’t even being honest with yourself.”
How often had she thought the same thing but ignored the feelings?
Helen then glanced at her watch and made a decision. She got up, and headed out of the door.
“Helen.” Claire stood at her door still in her suit from court looking shocked.
“I know this is unexpected but I really need to talk to you. Look can I come in.” Helen said quickly.
“Sure.” Claire moved aside and allowed Helen into the house. Helen moved across to the kitchen, and was followed by Claire as she shut the door. Claire then moved over to the kettle.

“I didn’t disturb you did I?” Helen asked looking sheepish.
“No I had just got in.” Claire said. “Coffee?”
“Please.” Helen sat down at the kitchen table as Claire made the drinks. Once she was done she planted the steaming mugs down on the table and sat down.
“So, what is this all about?” Claire asked as Helen sipped her drink.
“I need to see Nikki.” Helen blurted out.
“I was surprised you haven’t been along to the appeal.” Claire said. “I really thought you might have come along today after the talk last night.”
“No, you don’t understand.” Helen faltered suddenly wondering just how much she could say to Claire. “I’m in love with her Claire and I need to see her.”
“Bloody hell.” Claire said without thinking as she listened to Helen.

“I know this is a shock… I’ve been such a fool Claire. I stood in that bar this afternoon and watched the news report about the appeal result and I cried openly when you appeared on the steps. I should have been there to see it, to support her through and I was a coward and left her to get on with it. I need to see her Claire, to put things right. If I’m not too late.”
“Why come to me though?” Claire looked puzzled.
“Because I need your help. I don’t know where she has gone.” Helen admitted.
“Oh.” Claire moved and disappeared into another room. When she came back she had a sheet of paper with some information written on it.
“Here is all the information I have.”
Claire handed the paper to Helen who read it carefully.

“She’s back where she came from then?” Helen said as she looked up from reading the address.
“Yep, and by my reckoning that’s about the only place she could be.” Claire said watching Helen’s reactions carefully. “I’m surprised you didn’t think she would be there.”
“I don’t know. I hoped I suppose that it wouldn’t happen after all the history she has there.” Helen looked at Claire and fought back the tears. “You don’t think I’ve left it too late to get her back do you?”
“Hey, listen to yourself. This isn’t the Helen Stewart I’ve known all along. Fighter of every cause going, stronger than an ox and staunch defender of the innocent.” Claire responded.
“The old Helen Stewart didn’t admit to herself she had met the one person in her life she could ever truly love and then blew it.” Helen replied looking upset.

Nikki thought back to the moment in court that now felt like a total dream. The barristers standing in front of her as the three appeal court judges had come back into chambers after their deliberation. She remembered looking behind her, desperately trying to search out Helen’s features in the balcony. Trisha’s face was there. So were some mutual friends of theirs, a couple of whom Nikki struggled to even remember the names of, but missing was the one person that she wanted more than any other to see. She remembered the hurt and anger she felt, closely followed by the acceptance that she was hardly surprised. After all, Helen had made her feelings perfectly clear and was now with Thomas. Nikki held no place for her at all.

Then the verdict was read out in monotonous tones by the lead judge. Nikki remembered noise but it was indistinct. His mouth moved as she watched but she suddenly couldn’t hear what was being said. Then the shock of what was happening sunk in as she felt Di Barker’s hand on her arm.
Now noise was back around her again, but she could take it in. Her thoughts kept going back to why Helen hadn’t bothered to even be at court for her, and the more she thought about it, the more bitter she was becoming even though she was trying not to let that happen. It was simple Helen had let her down. Thomas Waugh was far more precious to Helen than Nikki had ever been. She had left Larkhall without even attempting to talk to Nikki about it properly and rot in there for all Nikki knew.

Helen stood outside and fidgeted nervously with her coat, which she straightened again. Taking a deep breath she walked towards the doorway. Glancing up she looked at the sign above the door and at that point she nearly turned around and walked away again.
Don’t be stupid and walk away from Nikki again. Helen thought to herself and closing her eyes briefly she carried on to the door that she opened slowly.
Oh god what am I doing in here?
Helen felt like a stranger in a foreign land and was ready to turn around and walk out but knew she was there now; she might as well stick with it and see it through. She swallowed hard as Nikki approached her. The carefully rehearsed speech she had in her head suddenly gone.

Nikki looked at Helen and tried to gauge her reaction. When Helen smiled at her Nikki couldn’t stop the smile forming on her own face in response.
“Hi.” Helen said looking nervous.
“Hi. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I couldn’t stay away.” Helen admitted, seeing sadness deep in Nikki’s eyes and felt the emotion rise knowing she was a major factor in that unhappiness.
“I don’t know what you want from me now.” Nikki said slowly.
“I want to be with you. I’ve been an idiot Nikki…”
Helen didn’t finish as Nikki stood up from the chair that she had sat down on.
“This is over with.”
Helen watched in horror as Nikki moved away from her in the visiting room and was asking an officer if she could be escorted back to her cell.

Justice

Chapter Two.

Fenner didn’t even both to knock as he strode into Nikki’s cell. His posture reminded Nikki of a peacock – chest puffed out, shoulders splayed. He gave her that leering grin that she despised so much as he looked down on her perched on the bed with a book resting on her knees.
“Welcome back” He said with the grin widening.
“Yeah. Well I love the intellectual conversation and stimulating company of those who work here so much I asked if I could stay a while longer.” Nikki said coolly, looking back at Fenner with full distain.
“Only this time you haven’t got the girlfriend watching your back.” Fenner leant forward, making sure he was invading Nikki’s personal space. She managed to stop herself flinching at his close proximity, but the wave through her eyes of hurt emotion about the mention of Helen didn’t go unnoticed by Fenner, who pulled only slightly away again full of satisfaction.
“Don’t let that spoil your fun Fenner.” Nikki managed to say, in spite of the hurt over Helen that was now coursing through her body and invading her mind again after Fenner’s comment.
“You are going to really enjoy having me around.” Fenner said, small amounts of spittle-hitting Nikki on the face; she controlled the urge to wipe it away but held his gaze.
“Just as your going to enjoy my company.” She rebuked.
Fenner rocked back on his heels and still carrying a smirk began to open the cell door again.
“Never mind Wade, I am sure I can make your stay here memorable.”

Helen sat on the bed and with exaggerated care she pulled the zipper. She had spent years inhaling the scent from the sweater, and every time she went to open the vacuum sealed plastic wrapper she used to protect it, she recognised it would allow a little more of the precious fragrance to escape. It always gave Helen chance to remember the simple days that she shared. There weren’t that many, and the smell was enough to bring them back into sharp focus.
In many ways it was a conundrum at times like this – when her mother was closest to her was when it brought back the pain of knowing she wasn’t around anymore for her. Alongside the sweater was a now battered photograph, its edges slightly tattered and worn from years of looking at it.
Her mothers dark blonde hair waving slightly as it hit her shoulders and her wide smile of joy and love as she held Helen as a baby shone through. Eyes sparkled; arms encased protectively, yet openly showing worship from them both.
Helen thought back to the moment she had found the picture and the sweater. She was a teenager, once again fighting with her father over his discipline and attitudes towards her. Helen had fled upstairs into the main attic rooms that years before had housed the servants. There, in a small suitcase wrapped in a plastic bag was where she had found the neatly folded sweater. Alongside that the photograph had been placed.
From then on, the suitcase was Helen’s haven in times of trouble.

It came again, a whisper. At least that was how it began: A whisper in her ear that escalated and became a scream. Nikki woke with a start and her heart was pounding in her chest. The scream immediately died away into the night.
Pale yellow light, that gave the whole atmosphere a murky feel seeped in from her cell window and through cracks in the door, not affording the chance to feel isolated from the prison, not that the noise levels ever dropped enough to give solitude even if the light could be blocked out.
Beyond that there was also the subtle but unmistakable tang of human waste. The open toilets in the cells allowed the smell to linger; there was no escaping it.
Nikki pushed her head back down into the pillow and closed her eyes tightly and the images and fears that she was desperately trying to lock down deep inside came rushing to the surface.
She was too tired, too physically and emotionally drained to do anything but to keep the worst of the feelings from drowning her. Her attempt at escapism was then completely wrecked when a scream sounded out, followed a few seconds later by a resounding harsh clang that echoed down the hall; followed by another scream which emanated through the air, only this time it wasn’t one that emerged from Nikki’s dreams, but the cold metallic landings of prison.
One big mess is what I am in; I’ve spent the last few minutes trying to figure out what brought me to this twisted fate; the hell I am now stuck in – the life that the so called god created were Nikki’s lasting thoughts as she pulled the pillow over her head in an attempt to cut out the clamour.

Claire picked up the coffee mug and grimaced as she sipped, as she realised that it was now cold. Frowning she carried on drinking anyway because she was thirsty and she knew that if she made a fresh mug it was likely to end up going cold as well. Once she was satisfied she had everything she needed, she made her way out of her office.
Sitting down at the cold Formica covered table in the austere surroundings of the prison, Claire wished that things were different for the hundredth time that morning.
Nikki walked in without any form of greeting and sat down. Clair took a deep breath and hoped this wasn’t going to be a complete waste of time.
“Hi Nikki.”
“Hi.”
“Okay, first of all I want to let you know I have released Marion as your barrister.” Claire wondered if it was going to be worth pulling any paperwork out for Nikki to read. She decided it wasn’t and so kept her hands flat on the table and watched Nikki’s reactions carefully.
“So, what does it matter?” Nikki replied, looking directly at Claire for the first time.
“It matters because I believe she completely jeopardised your appeal.” Claire said, sounding upset. “The minute she said you had killed Gossard was the moment you were skating on thin ice. I am so sorry Nikki…..” Claire sounded genuinely saddened as she spoke. “Marion was someone who I thought could do the job. I was wrong, and that misjudgement cost you. I really cannot understand why she didn’t do the job I know she is capable of.”
“It doesn’t matter now anyway.” Nikki stood up and looked down at Claire. “I am no longer actively pursuing any avenues for appeal.”
“But Helen….”
“You really think Helen cares about me. Nah, the only thing she cares about is her precious career.” Nikki showed bitterness and resentment in her whole demeanour. “Forget it Claire. I am no longer interested.”

chapter 3

Chapter Three.


Nikki looked at the envelope and for a while just slid it through her fingers, over and over, occasionally twisting the corners slightly with nervousness. Then, with exaggerated care, she tore it. Ripping across the middle and then putting those pieces together, and ripping some more until pieces the size of confetti were all that was left. Helen’s distinctive handwriting no longer legible. Nikki then rolled over onto her right side to face the wall. As she lay there in the shadowy light of another night in her cell, a single tear ran down her cheek unchecked. It lightly brushed past the corner of her lips, and she didn’t even bother to try and wipe it away, just tasting the saltiness it left behind. It carried on down and fell onto the pillowcase fabric, which sucked it up to join the slow and steadily increasing damp patch there.
Why did I escape?
Nikki’s thoughts tumbled through her mind, and try as she might to stop them from surfacing; it was like trying to hold back a torrent. It was unrelenting, thoughts crashed around and it felt as if they were being slammed physically into the back of her eyes. Images intermingled with words.
I thought I knew her so well, I gave my heart and its been broken, I can live with that, but then… my soul always gave me a padded haven from events around me, but when we made love, my soul was given… and its that which I have now lost.
The tears flowed with renewed energy, hitting the pillow, but not a sound escaped – her eyes sunken in their sockets, crimson red.

Helen put the bottle of vodka down on her coffee table none to steadily. Her door was locked, and the heavy curtains Helen had across the window were drawn tightly. The bottle was already missing most of its contents, and the more Helen was drinking, the more her thoughts were doing exactly what she didn’t want them to do. Think of Nikki.
Right now, as she slugged back a neat glassful of the fiery liquid, Helen was remembering how Nikki had done the same on the night of her escape.
Helen felt as if she could almost reach out and trace a finger down from Nikki’s hairline to the crook of her neck when it was stretched back as she drank. Then as Nikki shivered from the impact of the liquid, Helen wanted to reach out and pull her into a kiss, remove the torment in her lovers eyes that night, but knowing she was helpless to do that.
Helen’s mind began to get giddy from the amount of drink she had consumed, and normally she would have pushed the bottle away, stumbled from the sitting room into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed. Tonight all she could do was grab the neck of the bottle and pour another shot, even though in the deep recesses of her mind she knew it wasn’t the way to tackle what was happening.
“I wished I had shown I loved her more.” Helen’s voice cracked as she whispered out the line.
“Oh Nikki.” The name came like a prayer, before the alcohol finally won the battle and sent her into oblivion.

“Looking for someone special?”
The deep voice whispered into Nikki’s ear and she jumped slightly, not aware someone had come up behind her.
“Seems you forgot she doesn’t work here anymore ogling the door to the wing like that. She managed to wangle her way back once, she isn’t going to risk doing it a second time.” Fenner smirked.
Nikki swallowed the last of the tea from her blue mug, and with a humourless smile turned slowly to face her tormentor. Fenner was standing to close behind her; she felt the brush of her hips against the fabric of his uniform.
With care, she stepped back half a pace.
“At least I have that one special person.” Nikki replied keeping the smile fixed. “Something that can’t be said for some people. Especially when they are obtuse.”
Nikki didn’t give Fenner a chance to reply as she then walked back off to the canteen to hand over her mug to be washed.
“You alright there Nikki?” Julie J looked at Nikki with concern as she took the mug from her.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Nikki said slowly, grateful for the Julie’s concerned faces staring back at her, even though she felt as if she was in the dark pit of her mind for now.
“Oh right..” Julie J hesitated.
“It’s just we saw Fenner talking to you.” Julie S carried on the conversation seamlessly.
“Nothing to worry about.” Nikki forced a wide smile their way, and seeing their frowns lifting was pleased she had distracted there questions. “Listen, I’ve got to get back to the garden.”
“Right.”
“Yeah.” They chorused.

Helen walked along the grime of the pavement. Soggy paper and take away cartons littered the way, the rain beating down continually. She didn’t even know where she was going, all she knew was she could never remember feeling so alone and so lost in her entire life, even when she missed her mother, it never felt this sharp.
Everything in my life has been a lie was what Helen kept swirling around in her mind.
Helen walked past the hunched up homeless man in a doorway, his feet sticking out from the tatty blanket he had covering him. She noticed that his toes protruded out from the ends of the boots that didn’t even match. One was black, the other brown and both were in such bad condition there was almost no reason for him to be wearing them. Socks that had slightly better condition covered his feet.
Her reflection came back from shop windows, distorted by the splashes of water that hit the panes, not that she noticed as she marched on.
Then she stopped and her eyes looked up, blinking furiously as the rain hit her face. The grey stonewalls looked back at her, foreboding and depressing in the already dull air.
Helen wasn’t even too sure how long she had been standing there, and it was the opening front gate that brought her back to the reality around her. She glanced at her watch and knew that the shifts were about to change, and not wanting to see anyone, she disappeared quickly away from the walls surrounding Larkhall.

Thomas gathered his paperwork together, and sorting through, packed some into his briefcase to read at home, while other papers were then filed or put into his desk in tray to be dealt with the following day.
“A call for you Doctor.”
The nurse on duty with him for that evening came through and gave him the message.
“Thanks.”
He picked up his phone straight away to answer it. His voice registered some surprise as he realised who was calling, and his paperwork was quickly forgotten.
“I’m off home.” Thomas had grabbed his things and left the medical wing swiftly. He moved through the corridors of Larkhall, and as he stepped into the yard to walk across to the main gate, pulled the collar of his jacket up around his neck. Just before he stepped through the portal back into the real world, he glanced up to the window on the corner of the wall facing him and could see a light was on in there… he wasn’t’ sure but he thought he could see an outline of someone in the window. He then carried on through, knowing he didn’t have a lot of time to get home and then be ready to go out again for the evening.
Nikki watched silently, anger beginning to burn in her again, even though she knew Thomas Waugh was not guilty of anything in how she and Helen had split up, yet her anger was being directed that way, and try as she might, Nikki couldn’t stop it.

Chapter 4

Chapter Four.

The stillness of the night gnawed away at Helen. She wondered if she had been deceived, seduced and then thrown away. As the thought went through her mind, she was shocked to suddenly know that she was not the victim but the one who had perpetrated the crime. She had taken Nikki’s love and thrown it away, wrongly leaving her to feel like the wounded debutante – when it was she who forced Nikki to live with the passion’s ghost

A brighter day greeted people as they woke up; or for some as they ended their nights work and trudged home, thoughts only for the sleep they needed. Helen tried to blink as heavy eyelids stuck together. She gently brushed her fingers along her lashes and with care, cracked open the lids, only just able to suppress a groan. Her hand then moved to switch off the blaring alarm clock and it took every ounce of will to get up from the bed, knowing that were she to carry on lying there, sleep would win and she wouldn’t make her appointment.
As she moved into the bathroom, hoping a shower might help, Helen mentally calculated she had less than three hours sleep, and she just hoped she could hold it together through what was going to be a very tough day.

Thomas walked through the wing, pleased that he had managed to time it away from Fenner being around. It was lock down, and he could hear the women behind the doors, cat calling, intermingled with occasional banging of something against the doors or pipes. He arrived at the door he wanted, and after knocking; he wordlessly unlocked it and walked in.
Nikki looked up from her book, shock at who had entered registering on her face.
“Hi Nikki, I thought I would come and see how you are doing?” Thomas said quickly, not giving Nikki time to think about his presence there.
“I’m fine, hunky bloody dory. How about you? Found a replacement for Helen yet?”

Claire picked up the file for the case she was dealing with and suppressed the urge to push it to one side and open Nikki’s case notes again. Claire began to read her hand written notes that she had taken only a few minutes earlier from her latest client, only to find they seemed to merge into one indecipherable mess. Pushing the open file and writing pad away from her, Claire relented trying to read and lent back into her office chair.
Closing her eyes, she replayed the judges summing up at Nikki’s appeal, trying to see where she could attack a fresh appeal against the judgement. She then silently cursed Marion and her stupidity in admitting Nikki’s guilt at killing Gossard like she had. It was all the judges needed to hear to keep her incarcerated, and Claire knew it made any further appeal even harder to mount, but she was determined to keep Nikki’s case going – regardless of Nikki’s instructions not to.

“What makes you think you aren’t going to do this again?” The man peered over his half moon reading glasses, and stared at Helen relentlessly.
“I believe that I have no need to make the kind of decisions I made last time.” Helen was waiting for, and equally dreading this moment, and her carefully rehearsed speech suddenly deserted her.
“That hardly inspires me to believe that it wouldn’t happen again.” The same man said with a slight frown as he looked at his paperwork.
“It was stress related, and I did act hastily.” Helen said, trying to gain some momentum back in her favour. “Once because I had working differences with the governor at the time, and this time because I felt pressurised as I did my job. I don’t claim to be up to the job of governor, I am happy to admit that was too much for my lack of experience, and caused me to walk away and at the moment, I am better suited working directly with the women in the prison.”

Claire stormed through the offices where she worked, and everyone watched her slam the door to her office so hard, the pane of glass in the upper portion actually rattled. Her secretary could only look on completely shocked by her bosses behaviour, having, in the 6 years they had worked together, never seen her in such a foul temper over something before.
Claire immediately walked across to her briefcase, and grabbing her coat and her other personal items, she turned around and almost immediately headed back out of the office.
“I’m off home, cancel my appointments, tell them I’m sick.” Claire said without a backward glance as she then carried on through to the corridor and the lift, desperate to get out of there.
It wasn’t until she was sitting down in her chair before she began to calm down, and after a few deep breaths, she put the key in the ignition and drove out of the parking lot.

Helen looked across the table and tried to stop the tears and emotion that was threatening to overwhelm her. A hand reached across with a clean tissue, which she took grateful that Thomas hadn’t said anything else to her because she didn’t think she could have held it together at that point.
“How bad is it?” Helen managed to ask once she had composed herself.
“I don’t think it is too bad at the moment, but it might get worse before it gets better.” Thomas knew better than to try and soften the news he had given Helen.
“Is there anything you can do?” Helen’s reddened eyes looked at him despairingly.
“I doubt that Nikki is even going to admit she is suffering with severe depression, let alone allow me to treat her for it.” Thomas said softly, and he reached out with his hand that covered one of Helens as the tears she had tried to hold back gently rolled down her cheeks.
“If only I had been honest with myself.” Helen almost whimpered. “I wouldn’t be here now but with Nikki.”

Heart of fire, Soul of Ice.

Nikki put her pen down and frowned as she looked at the title she had put down on the paper. Although she now had her Open University Degree, she wanted to try and spend some time in the library just keeping her skills going, and so, with prison issue paper she was trying to write something.

Will you catch me if I fall?

Nikki shook her head as she wrote and quickly pushed the pen over the words scribbling them out.

Do people know what it is like to be crazy? Do they know what it is like to be completely insane? Do they know what it is like to be driven to the edge?
I do; I can only assume I am crazy. At least I am today.
It makes my brain ache, my body hurt. I feel as if I am not in any control of my actions. As if someone is pressing a remote control and making up my movements and thoughts as I go along.
I don’t want to eat, but the fork moves up to my mouth. I don’t want to masticate, but my lips part, the food enters, hitting my teeth and instinct dictates I have to chew.
I don’t taste, merely swallow.
I get asked a question and I nod, even though I want to run, to pull the door shut and close out the world. What chance of that?
None.
I told Monica that everyone who gets out of here gets out for all of us… but I failed to get out; I failed for all of us.

Chapter 5

Chapter Five

“I admit, I was surprised to see you back.” Karen looked over her desk at Helen, who had sat down nervously only a few seconds earlier.
“I know I am surprised as well.” Helen admitted, feeling slightly light headed at the prospect of being back in Larkhall.
“It’s a little different to your previous role here. Its great though to finally have someone who fully understands the women and their needs.” Karen sounded genuinely pleased that Helen was back.
“I did graduate as a psychologist. It seems the most nature progression for me in my career right now. I saw this post was open, and so applied.” Helen admitted as Karen read some more about Helen’s duties.
“I see your going to be split between wings and prisons again.”
“Yeah….. not as much time here probably but I hope it’ll be enough.”
“When do you start?” Karen asked not seeing any dates given in her information.
“Its likely to all be approved in the next couple of weeks. I was only offered the position today after the final round of interviews.”

Next to you I lay. I kissed your freckles on your back. I cuddled into your frame, as if we were made to fit each other.
Your hair wisps brushed against my cheek with the lightest of touches.
I am now feeling lost and lonely without you to guide the way.
There’s nothing here but solitude. You’re no longer going to be leaning against the doorframe looking in.
There isn’t you and me anymore.

Nikki woke from her nap and instinctively knew someone was standing in the doorway. Carefully she moved and couldn’t hold back the gasp of surprise when she saw who it was.
“Hi.”
Helen knew it sounded lame, but now that Nikki was looking at her, she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Helen’s immediate impression once she settled her thoughts was how frail and sickly Nikki was looking. Her eyes seemed wider than she remembered, with ruffled untamed hair, that previously would have been endearing was now a worry.

“What do you want?” Nikki asked with pure venom and hatred sounding in her question.
“I wanted to be the one to tell you I am working back at Larkhall as a experimental psychologist.”
“Sounds wonderful – I bet you love making up such fanciful titles for the jobs you do. Now if you don’t mind, I was enjoying an afternoon nap. Its one of the things I have done for the 48 months, 56 days and….. ” Nikki looked at her watch. “20 hours, 31, 32, 33 seconds….I have been here and I intend to keep up the tradition”
Nikki rolled back onto her side, facing away from Helen.

“Actually, I do mind.” Helen was about to leave the cell, when she turned back and walked over to stand next to the bunk that Nikki was lying on.
“Shame…. I do. Now I want to be left…..” Nikki wasn’t given a chance to finish her sentence.
“Each night, I am a woman who no longer cries, but makes love to your spirit. I smell the stench of my cowardliness the second I close my eyes. I was caught in a kiss I couldn’t break when you first captured me. Yet all I did was run. Within my insecurity, I forgot there was room to grow. I am here to be nurtured, to be cradled by strong arms. To see the moon, not a faceless orb. Point me to sky like you already have and show me the stars. I will always grow with you.”

Helen sounded slightly breathless as she finished talking. She wasn’t even sure where the words had come from – they just seemed to happen. Silence surrounded them in the cell for only seconds, but to Helen it seemed like a lifetime.
“Is that all you have to say?” Nikki asked, not bothering to move.
“Yes.”
“Then I want to sleep. Shame you can’t listen to me, but then I guess you never did. Abandoned by my parents, by Trisha and now you. You fooled me once, I am not going to allow you to fool me twice.” Nikki paused slightly and then carried on, her voice as hard as oak. “Now leave me alone.”

Once Helen had left, Nikki shifted position and looked out of the slightly ajar door. Thinking about Helen these days was enough to always rile Nikki. Seeing her in doorway had sent her heart pumping furiously in pure anger. The tee shirt she wore was now damp from perspiration and it seemed to cling everywhere. She wished she could just take it off, but knew she risked being spotted half naked, and the thought of it didn’t appeal.
Nikki then decided to roll the bottom up and tucking it in just beneath her breasts, she felt better as the slightest breeze that came through the cell window hit her now cooling skin.

“Why don’t you take everything off?” Fenner asked as he strutted into the cell.
“If I thought I could get away with it I would.” Came Nikki’s typically straight reply to his taunt.
“Yeah, well make sure you keep it decent.” Fenner said, his eyes avoiding Nikki’s, making her anger that was already simmering rise even more.
“You obviously haven’t heard.” Nikki wanted nothing more than to bait Fenner, and suddenly thought of the perfect way to do it.
“Heard what?” Fenner asked looking suspiciously at Nikki.
“That Stewart is back amongst the fold.”
Nikki watched with satisfaction as Fenners face turned various shades of purple and reds as his blood pressure rose. He didn’t even question Nikki’s statement as he turned and marched out.

“Marion, I want a meeting with you today, tomorrow at the latest.”
Claire was beginning to get infuriated with Marion’s apparent attempts to stall on any kind of meeting with her.
“I am standing outside your office building right now, I can come up if you have five minutes free.” Claire said, looking up to the modern glass fronted building where Marion’s office was located.
“Fine, if your not there, I’ll try your secretary for an appointment. Bye.” Claire cut the call and frowned. She was puzzled that Marion had now blatantly lied to her by saying she wasn’t in the building, when Claire had watched her going in after a lunch break only minutes before calling.
Dialling another number, Claire got through to Marion’s secretary. After several abortive attempts to get an appointment, Claire ended the call.
“God damn it all.” Claire said out loud in frustration as she walked back towards the tube.

Chapter Six

“She hates me.” Helen faltered.
“I doubt that somehow.” Thomas said gently, watching various levels of anguish crossing Helen’s face.
“Even now I can’t see how I can make this right.”
“Helen you’re trying too hard. Patience is going to be the key here.”
“I was just so shocked Nikki compared me to her family.” Helen said.
Thomas frowned and looked confused.
“Why, what did she say?” He asked wondering what Helen was referring to.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Helen said looking at him. “Nikki said I abandoned her – like Trisha and her parents had done. And you know what? I can’t fault what she said.”

“I’m getting too old for this crap.”
Nikki didn’t say anything as Yvonne sat down across the canteen table with her lunch tray.
“Well someone’s in a bright and cheery mood I must say.” Yvonne then said as she picked up her knife and fork and began pushing food around the plastic blue plate.
Nikki smiled and looked apologetic.
“That’s more like it. Now…” Yvonne began to eat and talked between mouthfuls. “As…… I …… Was …… Saying………”

“You’re too old for this crap.” Nikki finished the sentence.
“Exactly.” Yvonne swallowed and with a look of disgust at the food, pushed the tray away, unable to eat anymore.
“The Peckham Boot Gang causing trouble again?” Nikki asked although she didn’t doubt the answer.
“The one and the same…..” Yvonne looked at Nikki intently. “Now, I want to know if I have your support for a little lesson they need?”

Helen’s head sank down onto her hands and she fought back the tears that threatened. She knew she only had a matter of minutes to compose herself, so with a concerted effort, she brought her head back up, smoothed down her hair and waited for the knock on the door. She stood up and walked over to open it when it happened.

“I remember you sitting in my office discussing how you felt Nikki Wade had a problem with authority. It makes perfect sense when you think about it, and I thought we had got over the worst.”
Karen looked tired and Helen sympathised. She had already opened the bottle of red wine and they were in her sitting room, having left work together late in the evening, picking up a take away as they went.

The best years of my life when I look back were spent in a basement! It was a great room and had everything a small group of teenagers needed. It was private; it was a place to drink and smoke and it allowed us time to enjoy each others company without interruption.
It was even more important to have this place of ‘normality’ when you consider this group of teenagers where girls from the all girls boarding school. There was one exception to that, and that was Trevor the son of the grounds man who lived in the grounds and whose basement we inhabited at every opportunity.

The room was typical of a basement. Dimly lit, with only a tiny amount of light filtering through a tiny wood framed window in one wall, placed high up. Grime blocked the light, and what did filter through showed up the fine particles of dust that seemed to constantly float through the air. It had a typically 60’s deep shag pile carpet that had definitely seen better days. It also held onto every little piece that dropped onto it as if its life depended on it. Cigarette butts and beer bottle tops were the most frequent of the items that lost the battle with it. It seemed to just absorb everything – including the stench of cigarette smoke and, when we had managed to get some, pot. We were fortunate that Trevor’s parents were still very much in the age of the hippy and so turned a blind eye to what we did.

There were a couple of old arm chairs that were even more ancient than the carpet and every time you sat down on them, a spring would prod you, and you would spend a few minutes just standing back up again and repositioning yourself until you got it just about right. Stuffing spilled out of cracked and split seams as well as worn patches where arms rested. Like the carpet, they were relentless in what they swallowed. They were, once you got that position right, remarkably comfortable, certainly better than the vinyl stools that were the alternative. Either that or a couple of large pillows were scattered around the floor which you could sit on.

Although the room itself seemed to have an amazing aura, it’s the people who made it so special. Five of us in total, all against the establishment of the school we had been shipped off to, unable to adapt to the strict snobby routine they imposed. Looking back, I see now we were all outsiders to some level or another. We built a tree house, a secret den in the bushes with old car seats inside there, played games, running through the shrubbery. Later, some of us chased boys, the rest chased girls. We smoked for the first time together, coughing wildly as we tried to inhale on the cigarette as it got passed around, feeling sick afterwards. We almost knew each other as much as we knew ourselves. We fought, but it was always short lived.

I gradually became friends with Suzanne, who was slightly older than me. Her parents were some hot shot bankers who lived in Hong Kong, so like me, apart from the main summer holidays, the rest of the time was spent at school or with one of the teachers over Christmas. She was the one who lent in one evening when the others had all left the basement and kissed me. She then shot out of the room before I could fully respond, but from that point on… I knew who I was.
I had tried hard to fit in, to be cool, to wear the right clothes and talk about boys. Now I knew that was going to change – forever. I was trying too hard to be happy and by doing that I never was.

Helen was amazed as she read the words in front of her. Karen watched her reaction carefully.
“Where did you get this from? I haven’t even touched the bulk of what has been written.” Helen finally said as she peered at the sheets of A4 paper that were stapled together.
“I think you should read it all. It’s an eye opener, and it might help us tackle the problem we have with Nikki at the moment.” Karen remarked. “We found it on Nikki when she was taken down into solitary. Normally it would be put straight back into her cell, but fortunately, the officer didn’t this time because I wanted a report straight away.”

“I feel like we are somehow trespassing on some secret. It doesn’t feel right to be doing this.” Helen said carefully.
“If we want to help her, I think this might be a way in. This is exactly the sort of situation you are in the prison to deal with. I’m worried that Nikki is hitting that self-destruct button heavily. I think this knock back on her appeal is causing her more problems that we anticipated. Please, at least consider it.” Karen pleaded, although she understood Helen’s reluctance to read any further.

Nikki lay back on the hard plastic blue foam that purported to be a mattress and winched slightly as she felt a few bruises that she had sustained in the melee with the Peckham Boot Gang protesting about the lack of give in the mattress. Turning onto her side carefully, she tried without much success to get herself in a more comfortable position. She could hear one or two others who were also down on the block cat calling through the doors, but blocked out the noise as best she could, before closing her eyes and trying to sleep. When it came, it was fitful but she was grateful for anything she could get.

Chapter Seven

Helen lay back in bed and turned the page………..

After Suzanne and I shared that fateful kiss, we dated…… briefly. Well, if you can call it dating. It was holding hands when we had a quiet moment together, and then it became a peck on the cheek. It progressed to some kissing, but never went beyond that stage. After a couple of weeks of contentment, it became obvious it wasn’t meant to be – somehow we knew it wasn’t going anywhere. So we ended it, in a strange numbing pleasure it seemed right at the time.

After the break up, we seemed to become more comfortable around each other and grew closer as a result. Suzanne was one of the girls who was gorgeous but never once did she exploit her beauty. It was as much inner as outer with her and she hid it well. She was too distinct to go completely unnoticed, and if we went into town over the weekend, she would attract plenty of boys attention, but she made it perfectly obvious she wasn’t interested. Our friendship remained, and to the day we left it was as solid as it had ever been.

I remember all I did was cry when I heard she had died. I never expected someone like her, who was so strong when I knew her, to take the step of taking her own life. How I wished I had been there for her like she had been there for me.
I never did get to her funeral.

From our school, it was like being in a small town, where everything was interchangeable. I even imagined the people were equally interchangeable. I liked to think that there was another version of me just down in the next village or town. It would be wonderful to meet this person- somebody who thinks the same as me and does the same things; they even kind of look like me – in my own mind I have this twin.

Then there was the real town that bordered the school.
Tillingham had the usual main street strip with the post office, hardware store, and town hall and used bookstore. The same families have been in the town for generations. Shops that we named places like Old Mother Hubbard. It was a grey fronted hardware store, and Old Mother Hubbard was white haired and the owner. You walked in to find pots and pans hanging from the ceiling, tools and curios in every nook and cranny.
The smell of beeswax used as a polish mixed with paraffin and candles, oil and other smells unknown to us would permeate your nostrils and it sounds like it was a disgusting mix, but somehow it was homely and comforting.

Some called her a witch who had a cauldron and that she made brews up and cursed any children that entered her shop. I only ever remember her as someone who would smile and hand out sweets to you. She was like the grandmother figure I never had and longed for, and I would often go in to say hello just to see her face and then I would go back and imagine she and I were living together as a family.

In reality the school was as generic as the town. It had the clearly divided social groups and the big events at the school included games, dances and the annual talent show. Everybody knew each other well in our school, which had its disadvantages. It was difficult to change yourself and you were stuck where you were in the social scene. I still think back to the time there and know I hated it. Hate isn’t a term I use often because I firmly believe you shouldn’t be so ungracious towards others, but in this instance, I can honestly say it is hate I feel.

Our group…. We weren’t the coolest kids at school but we were definitely not at the bottom of the social ladder. Suzanne could’ve easily been at the top, just on her looks. If she wanted to share tips on make up and dating boys. But of course, she wasn’t interested, so stuck with us. She was too smart to join the popular crowd and too nice of a person. It didn’t stop Suzanne occasionally using her popularity; such as it was, to help us gain some advantages at times. It also meant we were always guaranteed from remaining somewhere in the middle of the social status and not at the bottom.

Suzanne went through countless girlfriends during her time at school. Some from school, others from outside the area. How she could get to know them I never fully figured out, we had limited time outside school and Tillingham was only a small place. Yet almost every month, she had another girlfriend hanging off her arm. She lost her virginity a full half a year before me. As for me, I lost mine ironically to a girl called Chastity.
Suzanne usually went out with girls for about a month but that was enough for them to have shagged each other’s brains out, fall out, get drunk and split up in tears.

I don’t remember how I became friends with Lorraine, Lori for short. I guess we just got talking at school somehow, and I must have invited her to come along to the group, liking her and not wanting her to be left out. I do know I was surprised when she said she would love to come along to one of our meet ups. She slotted in straight away, and Lori was then very much part of our group. I was still going out with Chastity at this point, but we both knew it was going nowhere fast.
There was something I really liked about Lori from the start.

She was always happy and smiling, smart and extremely funny. Especially after we had shared some pot – we would just prop each other up and giggle away to ourselves for hours on end, neither able to recall what about after the event.
It was almost impossible to imagine her getting angry – but she did once, and I knew all about it.
Her eyes were incredible. A mysterious look to them, as if she was hiding some great secret and try as you might, you couldn’t get past the barrier and find out what it was.

Her eyes also sparkled with laughter. When she and I ended, that was the first time I felt as if my heart had been ripped out of my chest. At least, the first time away from my family doing it to me and while I could accept it from them, to have it happen because of someone else shocked me to the core.
We went to our usual café in the village. Actually it was the only one, and the coffee was like dishwater, and the tea only marginally better, but the milkshakes were passable.

Lori was already waiting for me and she stared awkwardly at me as I approached the table we always occupied. The others were a little way behind me, having bought some books at the small second hand bookshop next door.
I knew before she even said anything that it was over.
What I didn’t expect was that she would tell me she was seeing someone else.
The others walked in as I walked out, unable to focus through the tears. I heard afterwards that Lori told them what had happened.
She was banished from our group there and then.

Amazingly, as a group of teenagers, we were able to function well together and often think the same way. We were, in some respects caught in our own idyllic loop of life to survive the reality of what we faced day-to-day.
Saturday afternoon would be the beginning of the weekend for us. We had school through the morning, and we couldn’t wait for the lesson to finish at midday. If it was warm we would spend time outside, often in the den before heading into town. Then, we would watch the sun set as we came back from town. The walk took us across some farmland using a footpath, and it could give the most amazing views. It’s a shame the pig farm at the end of the track spoilt this.

Then as the evening approached we would go in for tea before heading into the basement. Most of the time there, we would drink. It was never in great amount because we couldn’t get hold of it that easily. We would smoke and listen to old 45’s on a record player that Trevor would bring down from his room. It had a pale blue covering around the case it sat in and I remember he had some Bay City Roller stickers plastered inside it.
If the weather was exceptionally warm we would go out into the garden and look into the woods that edged it.
These nights were when we were all at our spiritual and mental peak. We were completely relaxed and though I’m not religious I felt as though God was a part of my world. Or at least, something akin to God.

I could forget about the real world and my family. This was my family as unusual as it was.

Chapter Eight

It was during one of our Saturday evening sessions that we decided to completely shift our lives. I remember it was during the latest of a long line of joints being passed around, packed heavily with dope. Someone asked if France existed.
“Err, Yeah….” I spluttered.
“Yeah but have you, or any of us been there?” Trevor argued. I can’t remember if he was the person who asked the original question.
“No,” I stated, “But just because I haven’t been there doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”
“Yeah…. But do anyone one of us actually exist? Are we robots unable to know any different?” Suzanne pitched into the discussion.

“I don’t know anymore.” I admitted. “I don’t know if you can be too sure about anything these days.”
“If you go by that logic, you can’t be sure I exist.” Trevor then pointed out.
“You’re right we can’t.” Suzanne lent across and grabbed the joint out of whoever’s hand it was in at the time.
“What I’m saying is that I could be imagining all of you. How could I prove that I’m not a nutter, standing on a street corner screaming what I’m saying now, completely unaware of my surroundings.” I muttered.

“You’re right,’ Suzanne said, “Really nobody can prove anything. What’s to stop me from walking through the door over there?”
“The laws of physics, maybe?” I giggled.
“But you can’t prove that I won’t,” Trevor argued, not wanting to laugh off the matter.
“Yes I can,” replied Suzanne, grinning widely, “Get up and try walking through the door.”
I stood up, and swaying slightly I walked towards the door.
“I am now going to prove you can walk through this door.” I declared and turning the handle I walked through the door, closing it behind me. I heard the peals of laughter and waited a few seconds before coming back.

“That was childish, it doesn’t prove anything.” Trevor said sounding slightly annoyed at my display.
“What are you trying to prove?” Suzanne suddenly asked.
“I don’t know.” Trevor shook his head. “I do know you can’t prove what might happen and what the future holds.”
“I hope I have an interesting future.” I said taking a sip from the beer bottle I had been drinking. “I want to do something with my life. I want to get out of this place and go on one hell of a ride. I want to travel the world, create legends about myself everywhere I go and to be remembered. I want to be someone great and make a difference. At least I can be sure of my existence….”

“Ah but can you be sure….” Trevor started to say.
“Shut up!” Suzanne snapped, “We know… we might not exist at all!”
“As I was saying, the only thing I can be sure of is my existence, so why not make it worth something? I want to be known as a God.” I said giggling.
“Or a goddess.” Suzanne said with a wink.
“Maybe that’s a little too ambitious,” I said knowing I was at the point where the dope in my system meant I was about to lose the plot completely.

“So, lets do it. Lets do something with our lives and get out of this rut.” Trevor declared to a group of very bug eyed teenagers.
“Easier said than done,” Suzanne said, suddenly feeling realistic, “We should do something though. When my life is done, I want to say ‘Whew that was something else.’”
“Then let’s make something of our lives,” I said, “I vow to do something with my life. I promise to avoid the temptation of settling down into a cyclical existence. I swear to make a difference and I guarantee that I’ll have the craziest fucking life anybody has ever fucking had!”

The more she read, the less tired she felt and eventually Helen got up, walked downstairs and put the kettle on and made a cup of coffee before heading into the sitting room. She settled down on the sofa and picking up the sheets of paper, she began to read again. Dawn approached rapidly, leading into the new day.

I was so revved up after that evening and I really believed I was going to change things for the better, and it would begin there and then. I also wanted that spark of the unexpected, to be different to most other people and not suffer the boring life that seemed to plague so many people. And, as a group we were in a position to conquer anyone and anything.
Little did I know how my life was going to change so dramatically only a very short time later.

By now we were 16 years old, and heading into our GCE’s as they were then fast. Teachers were beginning to push us into making decisions, reinforcing the need to have qualifications, and that without them, you wouldn’t get anywhere in life.
I don’t know where the scotch came from or who even produced it that evening. It was a large bottle and there were only three of us instead of the usual five. Suzanne, Jeanie, a girl who was a year below me at school and myself. Jeanie was the kind of person who had an old head on young shoulders, another misfit who had a strict father and whose Mother had died giving birth to her. It was obvious, even to the most insensitive person that her father blamed Jeanie and had shipped her off to school as soon as she was old enough.

We got progressively drunk, and as the joints got rolled as well, stoned into the bargain.
“Let’s get some placards and put them out on the front drive entrance.” Suzanne slurred.
“Yeah, right and what are we going to put on them?” I asked, still able to function on some level.
“You come up with something?” Jeanie suggested, knowing I had often had political debates with others at school.
“Okay, how about….” I paused as I slugged back another shot of whiskey, shivering slightly as it burnt my throat on the way down. It certainly was a cheap brand. “Here be Gays. You want to convert? Turn down this drive.”

I know it seems utterly pathetic now but at the time, I thought it was brilliant.
“That’s….” Suzanne paused before carrying on. “Fucking shit!”
“It is not.” I countered. “Its political and controversial. Besides, the school would blow a gasket.”
“What, you’re a lesbian?”

Jeanie’s question brought me sharply back into focus.
“Yeah, I am a lesbian.” I smiled widely, suddenly aware it was the first time I had actually said anything outright to anyone.
Suzanne looked at Jeanie in shock.
“You know she is. Look at the girlfriends she has had.” Suzanne exclaimed.
“Yeah…. But…” Jeanie looked uncomfortable. “I thought it was a phase you know. Like, with you, your always having another girl hanging around, but Nikki….” Jeanie stopped and looked at me.

“Jesus Christ.” Suzanne exclaimed and she grabbed the bottle of scotch and began to pour out a good amount in all our glasses again. “Phase she’s going through…. That’s got to be the joke of the year.”
Her comment broke the ice and we fell about laughing.
The evening wore on, and Suzanne staggered out to meet up with her latest conquest leaving just Jeanie and I to fall into the cushions on the floor, amidst the ashtrays and empty bottles.
I went to go to the toilet, and coming back, I managed to miss my footing on the stairs, and fell flat on my face on the last few.

“Nikki, on my god, are you okay?” Jeanie asked rushing over to me. I grunted a reply. She crouched down over me and looked at my face.
“You’re beautiful Jeanie,” I slurred, drunkenly, “Do you wanna have sex?”
“Oh, Nikki, you’re drunk,” sighed Jeanie, sitting down beside me, “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
She was right. I didn’t know what I was saying, but I continued on anyways.
“Can I have a kiss at least?” I asked, looking into her eyes, “It’ll make me feel better.”

I didn’t expect her to lean in and kiss me. Nor did I expect her and I to land up fumbling about in a drunken stupor having sex there and then.
I also didn’t expect it to be the last time I would ever see Jeanie and that basement again.
I certainly didn’t expect a teacher to walk in on us.

Nikki looked up at Karen Betts who stood in the doorway of the cell.
“You’re to have your adjudication.” Karen said quietly.
Nikki merely nodded and without a word stood up and followed Karen out to go through the process she knew only too well.
Her mind drifted back to that basement and the very last time she saw it and the despair she felt then sharply contrasted with the despair she was feeling now.

Chapter Nine

Nikki shifted position on the hard chair, and although she could hear Karen talking to her, she really wasn’t taking any notice of what was being said. Then the last sentence caught her attention, and she looked up shocked.
“I won’t do it.” Nikki said instinctively.
Karen sighed and looked at Nikki with a stern expression.
“I am the one who decides what you do in this situation, so you don’t have any choice.” Karen took a deep breath. “I don’t want to keep you confined at the moment, because I believe it isn’t doing you any good, so having talked to the Doctor we have decided this is the course to take. You will have your first appointment with Helen Stewart tomorrow as soon as I can arrange it with her.”

I don’t know what was worse. The look on Suzanne’s face as she watched me leaving in the back of the taxi from the dormitory window, or knowing I would soon be facing my parents. Apparently, my father had even flown home from whatever tour he was on with the Navy – and since he only ever went away on the most important missions or exercises, I knew this wasn’t going to go at all well. I also hoped I wasn’t going to have to face David, my brother. So like my parents, I wondered at times if he was a clone.

The house looked dull, grey and depressing at the best of times, but today the rain lashed down making it even more foreboding. I thought back to Jane Eyre, having recently read it as part of my English Literature course and the descriptions given for the house and how apt it seemed with my parent’s home. I tentatively climbed out of the taxi, grabbing my suitcases and watched as it drove off, spray kicking up from his tyres as he went, the school or my parents having already paid for it.

The silence was filled with the sound of the rain falling, quickly soaking my belongings and me. I managed to drag my cases under a small jutting porch area over the front door, but there wasn’t enough space for me to fit under as well, so I had to hunt out my front door key with rain sodden hands, items slipping through my fingers as I pulled them out of my pockets trying to hunt down the key. Eventually I managed to find the key, and place it in the lock. I tried to turn the key, only to find it wouldn’t turn completely in the lock. I pulled it out again, and checking it was the right one, put it back in.
I jumped when my father appeared around from the side of the house.

“It won’t work.” Was all he said as he approached me. I didn’t understand what he meant and carried on trying to get the lock to turn.
“The key…” He pointed towards the door, “It won’t work because we have changed to locks.”
I know I was a picture of increasing confusion. Why would the locks have been changed and I wasn’t told? The questions floated around my head, but I couldn’t seem to ask them. Instead I turned back to the lock and took the key out slowly before I turned to face my father again.

“Can you help me with my bags please?” I asked him, putting the key back in my pocket. I sensed something was wrong, and yet I couldn’t accept what I was feeling ….I simply put it down to fear of being back at home.
My father shook his head at me slowly.
“I can’t do that.” He said firmly.
I felt the confusion and emotion wash over me in a fresh nauseating wave. I knew, I really did know but I still couldn’t admit it.

I dragged the cases through the puddles, hair flat and clinging to my scalp, so wet now I didn’t care. I had abandoned all but one case at my parents, after all, what use where they now to me? Oh, my Father told me how I was such a disgrace to the family and my refusal to conform wasn’t going to be put up with, that behaviour like mine wasn’t ever going to be tolerated by them again and I was a disgrace, an abomination to all that the human race and God stood for. I looked up and saw my Mothers stern face staring down at me from an upstairs window. As our eyes met, she glared before turning without a second glance and walking away. It was the last time I every saw her.

I needed him to tell me the family was throwing me out. I desperately wanted him to tell me, but he never did. He never had the courage to actually tell me my own flesh and blood were finally abandoning me and didn’t care where I went.

I spotted a telephone box and struggling to haul the suitcase I walked over to it. I had a small amount of change on me, which I pulled out of the same pockets that still harboured the now useless key. I stood in the box, with my case partly in, and fumbled with the coins to slot one into the phone. I dialled, and waited as the phone rang. As it was answered, I pushed the money in and swallowed hard.

“David…..”
I never got any further. He said simply he wanted nothing to do with me, that he knew what Mother and Father had done and could only agree with the decision and that I had only myself to blame. He put the phone down before the money even ran out. What a waste of five now very precious pence.

For the first time in my life I was completely alone. At least, even during the hell of school I had that small circle of friends to turn to, but I knew not one of them was in a position to help me now. For all intents and purposes, I was a lost soul walking the streets. My case seemed to become twice its size as I trudged along and my clothes became heavier as the rain soaked in.
I don’t even know where I ended up – it was a doorway like every other on any high street in the country. Smells from the take aways pervaded the air, as the rain dripped off the edging of the doorway and pooled at my feet, but at least I was sheltered from the bulk of it. I didn’t sleep that night.

The following morning, I was relieved to see that the rain had stopped, and as I checked what little money I had on me, I just headed to a small café I knew was in one of the side streets. Like Tillingham, it was pretty dire but the tea there was cheap and it would at least be something hot inside me, which after the night I had faced was all I could think of. The rest of the worry about what to do could wait until later. Time enough for that.

I stood in the queue just to get a ticket, and judging by the numbers flashing in bright red from a digital display over the windows, it was an even longer wait before I would get a chance to talk to someone.
I sat down, sinking back in the chair, uncomfortable as it was. A man who smelt heavily of body odour and stale booze sat down right behind me and began coughing. I winched but didn’t dare move.
I watched the numbers slowly moving along on the red display – afraid to look away in case my number came up and I missed it. By the time they were ready to see me, I was so stiff from sitting like I had, I struggled to get up and across to the counter.

A bored looking middle-aged woman looked through a Perspex screen at me. I explained I was homeless, that my parents had thrown me out and I was in desperate need. She asked me why I had been thrown out. Haltingly, I explained, watching her facial expression showing her disguise at my activities.
She even said she wasn’t surprised by my parent’s actions, had it been her daughter she would have done the same thing. I sat there, shocked at what she had said.
I asked her if she could do anything for me.

I headed out of there feeling even more humiliated and lost than before I had walked in there. I was told that they would be checking with my parents I was genuinely homeless and not a runaway before they would take further action to help me because I was only just 16. Until then, I was on my own.
That’s when I moved on – I went through my case and only took enough clothes to change out of the ones I wore and one or two other essentials which I pushed into a carrier bag I had picked up from outside a supermarket. I then abandoned my case and began to hitchhike. I was out of Kent and in central London within a couple of hours.

I found another doorway and this time I did sleep sporadically. Every noise I heard was enough to wake me; my nerves were completely on edge. I had adopted the philosophy that I would worry about one day at a time.
It’s one that has served me well since.

Chapter Ten

Claire looked at the last two phone numbers she had on the list that now had a large proportion of other numbers scribbled through.
She felt even more despondent a few minutes later when the last name was crossed off the list. Taking a deep breath, she decided to get out, have some lunch and tackle the situation again from a fresh perspective.
Sitting in a local Starbucks with a Cappuccino still steaming hot, Claire stared absentmindedly out of its windows at the bustling traffic and people who were going past. Nameless faces, all going about the business they needed to, but Claire couldn’t help but think of Nikki who wasn’t even getting this opportunity. It also suddenly struck Claire that when Nikki was first jailed during her arrest and subsequent remand period, there probably wasn’t even a Starbucks in this country.

I lay there, crouched in the doorway until the newspapers got thrown out of the van that pulled up on the kerb. A man got out and began shouting at me to move on, and how runaways were the pain of his life. I didn’t hang around to find out what else he thought of me.
I was cold, tired, thirsty and very hungry. I marched along the streets steadily, keeping in the same sort of area. Overall, it seemed fairly pleasant and there were plenty of take aways littered around. I might get lucky. I spotted another homeless guy with some kind of mongrel dog on a tatty piece of string used as a lead further down a street, so I carefully positioned myself and watched what happened for a while.

Basically, he begged. Nothing forceful, just quietly sitting with a small piece of cardboard that he had propped up in front of him with the words ‘homeless please help’.
The dog sat alongside him, both endlessly patient. A little nod or muttered thank you was all I saw from him as some people dropped loose change into a laid out plastic shopping bag. Periodically, he would go through the bag, picking out the most valuable of the coins to stuff into his coat pocket. After a few hours, he began to count through what he had and appeared satisfied enough with the day to move on.
I later saw him emerging from a pizza place with the dog standing outside waiting for his master. My stomach rumbled as I suddenly became aware of just how hungry I was.

I realised just how quickly you go from being dependent and well off in your life to having nothing but the clothes you stand up in, and all because I loved. I had to fight the bitterness that was welling up inside me at that point… it was so close to taking me over.
I trudged through the walkways and park, hunting down anything I might be able to use. Scraps of card, bits of paper, and old biro that had leaked, but if I was careful I could still write with it. Eventually I settled down again for the night in the same doorway I had the previous night, with a few more possessions in my hand. I had managed to scrape enough of the change I had together for large bottle of Pepsi that was only just out of date and going cheap from one of the corner shops. I sipped it slowly knowing I needed to make it last, and feeling slightly dizzy and sick from the sugar and caffeine rush it gave me I eventually slept.

The next day I found a spot just by where people came through from Waterloo Station. I had watched carefully, making sure that I didn’t take a pitch already used. The last thing I wanted was to have a disgruntled guy turning up for his days begging to find someone else had taken prime slot.
It was an okay day. Mainly small change was thrown in my open bag, and this was supplemented with the odd silver coin of larger denomination. I was careful to occasionally pick out coins to make sure that I didn’t have them snatched from under my nose and also so I didn’t give too much of an impression of having a lot there – after all, people might stop giving if they thought I had enough.

I could hardly wait to get going once I knew I had enough for something to eat. I gathered everything together and charged to the nearest MacDonald’s. I ordered two burgers with fries and a coffee, which I then took over to a small corner table and ate with a feeling of deep satisfaction. I didn’t think a fast food burger and fries could ever taste so good and coffee so sweet.
I struggled with wanting to wolf it down and making it last. My hunger won the battle, and I almost choked a couple of times as I ate, I was so desperate.
I hated that I was violently sick only a short time later as my body rejected the onslaught of food.

I was lucky I looked older than I was. I saw other girls being approached by men twice our age, talking to them, befriending them. Many would then go off with them, and I would cringe, knowing that they would reappear on the street, only the next time as a hooker, and he would be the pimp.
Because I was that bit taller and older looking, generally I was ignored which suited me fine.


I did apply for some jobs, but found it hard going when the shopkeeper found out just how old I was. Many would only employ you if you were over 18. It was made worse because I didn’t have a national insurance number to give them and I wasn’t even too sure how to trace it myself. I later found out how to do it, and that was a great relief.

I never did the drink and the drugs. Sure, I would still have something to drink and the odd joint, but nothing that I hadn’t done already and never in a situation that left me open to trying something harder.
I would go into the local swimming baths, not to swim but to use their showers. At least they were a cheap way to get clean from the grime of the streets. I admit later I did manage to steal a swimsuit from a store and I would also enjoy a swim at the same time. After all, I had to pay to get in, so I might as well use the facility, and it was something I had always enjoyed. At least for that short time it was like being a normal human being.

Yes, sometimes I would shop lift to survive if I had a bad day. It was that or starve the choice was that stark. Morals didn’t come into the equation. Occasionally I might get lucky and find a bit of work; usually some cash in hand helping a market trader or stacking a few shelves for a desperate shopkeeper who might have been left in the lurch by staff not turning up.
I had also found where the local hostels were. Usually they were full, but I nearly always managed to get there to claim a bed for the night.
A local church school would hand out sandwiches to the homeless from the just out of date stock they had. They were always eagerly contested, because it meant you could eat that day without having to spend precious money.

I tried to get help from the Department of Health and Social Security. I eventually was told I was classified as homeless, but since housing was so short in supply, I was placed on a waiting list. It also meant I couldn’t get benefits paid, because without a permanent address, they wouldn’t process my claim.
Finally, I got into a hostel that allowed its residents to use it as an address as well for the purpose of claiming some money.
This was the turning point for getting off the street and into a bed-sit of my own six months after being thrown out.

A single 60-watt light bulb tried desperately to illuminate the room but it really wasn’t up to the job. It hung from the ceiling flex, with no shade around it, just the bare bones of functionality.
A small square table, no more than 2 foot by 2 foot was in one corner, slightly wonky where one leg was damaged. I had eventually sorted that out by putting a couple of magazines under it.
The single bed had really seen better days, and the mattress wasn’t really pleasant, but after the hostel, it was like a palace.

I remember sitting on the edge of my bed for the first time, looking at the tiny area they called a kitchenette. It was nothing more than a couple of rings and a grill underneath. It didn’t even have an oven. A sink was next to it, and a cupboard above on the wall.
I then looked at the wardrobe, which seemed to fill the room and thinking how empty it was, with only a few clothes hanging there. One pair of trainers was all I had in the footwear department, and they were currently on my feet.

The large hallway had some pigeonholes where post was left for the people in the various rooms, but at least you could also come and go, as you wanted to.
A shared bathroom for each floor, all slightly rank and not kept too well, but still a bathroom.
Some people would say this is where dignity stopped, but for me it was where it all began.
This was when I found out about the lesbian scene. Like a flower I was about to bloom.

Chapter Eleven.

Thomas looked at the pile of papers Helen was pointing to with renewed interest.
“I can’t believe there is so much to Nikki.” Helen was saying, twisting her fingers together nervously. “I haven’t even touched some of it, and you want me to meet up with her tomorrow morning for a session!”
The panic was obvious in her voice.
“You can do this.” Thomas assured Helen, “I wouldn’t have recommended it as a course of action with Nikki to Karen if I felt you couldn’t. I didn’t know about all this though I have to confess that. I probably would have suggested a couple of days grace to give you a chance to get over reading all this.”
“Great, this is just bloody marvellous. I can’t go on reading anymore of this Thomas. I stopped this morning as it dawned on me I was trespassing on Nikki’s thoughts without her knowledge. Nikki’s going to blow a fuse at me as it is, and I can’t blame her.”

Nikki lay back on her bunk, not quite able to get her thoughts into order when she looked up.
“Well, I am surprised they put you back here so quickly. You seem to have a way with the wing governors lately and keeping yourself out of the block. Are you sure your not shagging them.”
Yvonne strode in and offered Nikki a Marlboro cigarette that Nikki took as she swung her legs across the bunk and sat upright.
“How are you?” Yvonne asked in a much quieter tone as she sat down on the plastic chair in the corner of Nikki’s cell.
“A little bit of bruising but apart from that I’m fine.” Nikki replied lighting her cigarette.
“You’ll be pleased to know the Peckham Boot Gang are now considerably quieter than they were and without your help I don’t think it would have happened.”
“Yeah, well if there is a next time, I think I’ll pass up on helping.” Nikki said with a wry smile.

Karen looked at Helen’s smouldering eyes and realised she was about to get a blasting.
“You took these papers, fine. I read some of them…. Fine…” Helen pushed the pile of Nikki’s writing over the desk to Karen. “But now you’re telling me that Nikki is back in her cell, and you forgot they weren’t back in there. Do you even realise the trust, if any, Nikki had in us is now likely completely destroyed.”
Helen’s accent grew stronger as she spoke, and Karen slowly picked up the papers before picking up her telephone.
“Yes, can an officer come and pick up something to be given back to Nikki Wade on G wing please. Thank you.”

Helen watched in mounting horror at Karen’s apparent calmness to the situation.
“Do you know what you have done?” Helen asked again.
“Yes, I do know what we have done.” Karen emphasised the ‘we’ and it wasn’t lost on Helen.
“I can’t see her tomorrow morning.” Helen said finally, standing up gathering her coat and bag.
“In that case, I’ll have no option but to put Nikki back down on the block.” Karen warned Helen.
Helen stopped short at the door, and saw the outline of an officer about to knock and pick up the papers.
“Fine if you want I will see her, but next time, I make the appointments.”
Helen didn’t give Karen a chance to reply as she left the office.

Thomas watched as Helen visibly crumpled in front of him.
“What the hell was I thinking?” Helen asked as she grabbed the bottle of red wine she’d just opened and poured out a large glass for her and one for Thomas.
“You can’t berate yourself over this.”
“I bloody well can.” Helen said strongly. “If Nikki had any trust left in me and she ever finds out I read some of what she wrote, or I don’t own up to it and she finds out, it’ll be even worse. Either way she’ll turn her back for good….” Helen went silent for a second, “That’s if she hasn’t already. What the hell was I thinking? See, emotions clouded my judgement again! I’m useless around her.” The last part came out so quietly Thomas almost didn’t hear what she had said.

“I’m a fucking mess Thomas and I can only see one thing. Myself to blame because Nikki really didn’t do anything wrong. And just when I think I can’t fuck it up anymore, I go and do something even more stupid than the last thing I did that was! I shouldn’t be let out – God what the hell was I thinking taking on the job as psychologist when I am so fucked up myself.”
Thomas for the first time was really concerned for Helen’s state of mind, and began to question the wisdom of getting her and Nikki together like he had. Nikki had come apart at the seams, and he was watching Helen beginning to come apart.

Nikki was surprised that an officer that she didn’t recognise came knocking on her door and handed over the papers she had been carrying just before she got pulled into the Boot Gang ruckus unexpectedly. When Yvonne had asked for her help, Nikki didn’t know it was going to be an attack made with absolutely no planning whatsoever and typically, it was Nikki who got caught as they began to separate from the incident. Nikki thanked him for their return and after a few minutes began to read through what she had started.

When I talk about beginning to bloom, I have to admit it wasn’t quite that smooth. I lost a few petals on the way!
I was young – it wasn’t a matter of going out to get a date to be with for any length of time. It was more a case of going out, getting fucked, and if I like her, carried on fucking her for a week or so to the point I knew it was getting dangerously close to attachment and then it would end.
I never had any problems getting a date, even if they knew my reputation. That might sound completely egotistical, and it certainly isn’t meant to. I am not proud of my times then. I hurt too many girls…. and women for that matter.

There was really only one who I connected with for any length of time during that period of my life. When I say length of time, I am only talking a couple of month’s tops. Then, when I ended that, it all backfired on me. She became hysterical and would shout and scream at me if she spotted me in the crowds at the pubs and clubs. There weren’t as many then as there are now, and what we did had tended to be more underground than open so that limited the places where we could go. I couldn’t get away from her, so I became more and more withdrawn.
I was often told that not being able to control my non-existent pecker would get me into trouble, but like any teenager, I didn’t believe it – until it actually happened.
The worst of it is, I couldn’t tell you what her name was if I tried………..

So, there I was, notorious around the scene for sleeping with anyone who hit on me, and that was fine by me. I had a room, a roof over my head and finally a secure job. It was in a ‘private’ shop. In other words, we sold sex toys, magazines and soft porn videos and if the customer was known well enough, the occasional hard-core video was obtained and sold on. The owner was an older really butch dyke. I don’t remember sleeping with her, but I probably did… to get the job.
Then, that’s when my life took another strange turn. At 20, I was beginning to settle down more. I drank less, smoked less and screwed less.

Her name was Lydia, and she came into the shop looking nervous. She was in her late 20’s - I found out later she was 27, and almost immediately I could see she was interested in me, but also far too shy and reserved to act on it.
She told me it was her older sisters 30th birthday coming up and she wanted to get her something as a joke, what could we recommend.
I swear she was going redder by the second as she spoke and I took pity on her, so showed her some items, and once she had decided on something, asked her if she wanted a coffee. I was due for a break, and when she said she would love to, my heart did a little flip.

I got a roasting when I got back to the shop. I was only supposed to be gone for 15 minutes and it was nearly an hour later when I rolled back in, almost time to go home! We just began to talk, and before we knew it, the time had vanished and I was in deep trouble. I don’t even remember caring that much because in my jeans pocket I had a phone number for Lydia, and that was all I cared about.
I called her the following day – and we arranged to meet that evening in a quiet pub that I knew. It wasn’t strictly part of the gay scene, and somehow I didn’t want this woman to be scared off by hearing about my usual conquests. I really wanted it to be different this time.........

and it was.

Chapter Twelve

Claire managed to sit in her favourite chair in her local Starbucks having finally got away from the office for the day. It had been surprisingly busy for the time of day when she first came in and ordered, but it was now beginning to thin out. She had almost finished her drink when she looked up at the man approaching where she sat, shock showed on her face.
“Do you mind if I join you?” The man smiled at Claire warmly his voice rich and deep. He had a head of silvery grey hair, giving him an even greater look of distinction.
Claire nodded mutely still dazed at who was now sitting opposite her.
“Let me introduce myself….” He began to say in the lustrous timbre, “I’m Sir Daniel Steed.”

“Sir, I am honoured.” Claire managed to get her thought process working and they shook hands.
“You do know of me then?” He queried, looking at Claire carefully.
“How could I not?” Claire sounded astonished by the question. “You’re one of the most respected barristers in this country. Why, your almost legendary.”
“I am flattered, but I would argue that I don’t deserve such praise.” He said with a wide smile. “That aside, I wonder how surprised you might be to know have deliberately sought you out this afternoon, and you are one tough woman to track down.”

Lydia arrived at the pub a little bit later than we had arranged, and I had been wondering if she had changed her mind. Perhaps my past was coming back to haunt me and she had heard about some of my exploits.
When she walked in, I suddenly felt like that teenager again, back down in the basement, awkward and gorky. I stood up and she smiled so shyly at me I could hardly think of anything to say except hello. I then asked her what she wanted to drink and I darted across to the bar, noting we had opted for neat vodka – probably both needing that little bit of Dutch courage.

Lydia was a woman of my dreams. Once we got past that stage of being nervous around each other, I was taken by her intelligence, warmth, humour, even her temper when roused was endearing because she could never really get too mad with me, she just used to somehow direct it at inanimate objects around us.
She loved art, literature, good wine, eating in and eating out, depending on our mood. She ignited things in me that I had lost many years before. Hobbies and interests I didn’t want to know about suddenly became interesting to me again. I began to buy books, artwork to hang from the walls – I even finally moved from the bed sit into a roomier ground floor flat that had a small patch of yard out of the back and move on from my job and began to train as a hotel manager.

I gained an interest in gardening, such as it was. We put in a small pebble water feature, long before they became vogue. Bamboo and stone featured heavily, with bright blue pots that housed various plants were placed around the paving. It might not have been much, but compared to what I was used to, this had meant I went from a palace into heaven.
Lydia worked some strange hours, so we didn’t always get to see each other. She would always come around to my flat though, to save the hassle of me turning up at hers only to find she wasn’t there. We fell into a comfortable routine that we both loved and enjoyed.

“I miss her.” I said as we lay in each other’s arms.
“Who?” Lydia asked me with a slight frown. I felt her tense up, almost as if she was expecting me to tell her I still harboured feelings for a long gone ex lover.
“Me.” I said softly. “I miss the person I used to be when I was in that basement.”
“Ah…” Lydia relaxed, having heard about the basement from me on numerous occasions. “You haven’t lost anything, but you can only ever gain.” She then added as she stroked my arm.
“Have I though? I was thrown to the wolves without a second thought. I survived, but I often wonder at what cost.” I said, some sadness welling up inside me. This is when I discovered I let my guard that I had built up so carefully down. Feeling content did something to me, made me wonder about what might have been.

Perhaps it was because it was like night – it’s when it’s a time of contemplation. Or perhaps it was because I began to notice more about the woman I spent time with. How she would stand up to the mirror in the bedroom, and apply make up. How she would carefully put lipstick on. She would apply it in a very certain way, beginning from left to right. Slowly she would move it from top to bottom lip and then, when she was satisfied, she’d purse her lips together and occasionally a finger would come across and touch up a corner of her now glossy lip.
I slowly began to wear some make up – moving away from the image I had generated. I still like and liked to have that slight boyish look, but I also enjoyed the slightly more feminine side I had been denied being for so long.
Actually, I hate labels like that, but since they are there, that is how I will describe myself.

I would keep a small bottle of Lydia’s perfume secretly hidden, and when we had to spend time apart, I would drop a small amount of the pillows next to me, and that way I was able to close my eyes and imagine she was there, lying next to me. How I loved to hear her voice, low and husky, as she would whisper in my ear while her hands roamed my body.
I was caught up completely with her, and it changed my life utterly. I became the person I was destined to be, not what I had been forced to become and resented.

Perhaps I had become too comfortable. Maybe I even forgot to question, but I was hit hard by another blow to my emotions when I least expected it.
Lydia was drunk. I had never seen her drunk, so it was an occasion I remember vividly. She was such a dork and I savoured watching her trying to say something, only to lose track of it before sitting down heavily on our sofa, having been hauled into the sitting room of my flat. We had been celebrating her birthday, albeit a few days late because she had to work. Have I mentioned what she did? I don’t think I did… but just so you know, she was a nurse.

“You should come to my place sometime.” She slurred.
“I would if you were ever there.” I reminded her as I walked through to make us a coffee each.
“Oh…. Yeah, I forgot.” Lydia swung her feet up off the floor and spread out across the sofa.
“When was the last time someone blew you away? Totally threw you a curve ball in your life to the extent you couldn’t think anymore?” she suddenly asked.
I stopped short, frowning. I wasn’t sure if I like the way the conversation was going.
“What do you mean?” I asked, dread seeping deep down in the pit of my stomach.
“I mean…. Like you did with me. Those strong arms that wrap themselves around me, or the eyes that are like pools of diamonds that shine every time I look into them.”
“The last time was with you.” I said relaxing, and I finished making coffee, but then I saw that Lydia was fast asleep on my sofa, so I got a spare blanket and placing it over her, left her to sleep it off.

The next morning Lydia looked like hell. Her eyes were blood shot and she was complaining of a massive headache. It was made worse because she rarely drank, so the hangover was somehow even worse for her to deal with. I think that was the only time I saw Lydia truly vulnerable. She was relying on me totally, and I felt good, being shown that side of her.
I was surprised that she insisted on going so soon on considering she felt so bad. She insisted though, saying she had to work that night and needed to get home to get some sleep and then change for work. I was amazed she could even think about work after a night like she had, but that was Lydia for you – dedicated to her job, always worried about the patients she would look after.

She would often lie in bed with me, just talking about her concerns over a particular patient that she might have had. She told me that was one of the reasons she loved me so much – I would allow her to sound off about her apprehension without interruption, just listening when she needed it the most, but also able to give support and advice when she wanted it.
I tried to get her to stay at home that night, but she wouldn’t have any of it. I watched her leaving, as always wishing she would stay a little longer than she had, but happy in the knowledge she would be back in a couple of days.

My one regret was that she hadn’t yet allowed me to meet the family. She said she wasn’t out to them and couldn’t bring herself to introduce us even as friends. It hurt, but I respected her wishes. It wasn’t easy being out in the same way as it is now. I sometimes forget just how difficult it was and how we would often be harassed by people and targeted. On one occasion a few of us were even chased down a street by a group of lads – I don’t ever remember being so scared. I saw so many women hurt and abused by homophobic people, from just name calling to some even being raped in an attempt by their attacker to make them realise what they were missing. Worst still the police would often turn a blind eye to the reports and perpetrators would often swagger about rubbing in the fact they had got away with these hideous crimes.

Chapter Thirteen

“I admit I am shocked.” Claire confessed as she watched him sipping his espresso coffee. “And because of that, I am also intrigued.”
He tilted his head slightly keeping a slight grin on his face.
“That is good to hear. I would be slightly worried if your curiosity wasn’t peaked somehow.” He said slowly. “I wonder, do you know that Marion McLoughlin has been appointed in a position of some power within the Scottish Parliament Legal Directorate division?”
That news did rock Claire and she couldn’t contain her gasp of surprise.
“I gather by your reaction you didn’t know about this move.”
Claire shook her head as she took the news in.

“It does explain why I haven’t been able to get hold of her if she has been busy with interviews and sorting out the job situation.” Claire then spoke out loud with her thoughts.
“That is true, but this has been…” Daniel paused slightly as he sought the words he wanted, “a rushed appointment. Marion is as we speak, on a train bound for Edinburgh. Her firm have been substantially compensated by her departure, so they are more than happy with this turn of events. I however remain sceptical that Marion is so keen.”
The last words caught Claire’s attention and she looked at him keenly.
“Might I recommend this is taken to somewhere slightly more private?” Claire suggested, not wanting to discuss anything further in a public coffee shop.
“My car is parked just down the road. I hope you will join me?” Daniel stood up after finishing his drink.

I didn’t expect that night to become such a turning point in my life…. Not that I hadn’t already had some substantial events happening to me already, but this was also substantial. At least it was the biggest turning point in that period of my life.
I was helping some nights at a newly formed group for young gay and lesbians. It was a branch off from the local switchboard and really new its in concept for that area.
I was asked to help out by one of the founders, and since it was only once a month that usually coincided with a night off for me from the hotel and Lydia working I decided to help out.

It was a great group, even if the numbers initially were quite small. The first person we had coming through the door was someone called Chloe.
She was quite short, only about 5 foot 2 or 3 inches, but what she lacked in height she made up for in spirit. She was bubbly and bright, intelligent and always giving a hand with the meetings.
We got on really well, and slowly built up from that. I sometimes wondered if she harboured a crush on me, but it didn’t bother me if she did because she never said or did anything to make me feel uncomfortable about us.
Then, she seemed to become more and more withdrawn and although she still came along to the meetings, there was obviously something bothering her.

That evening I had spoken to Lydia briefly on the phone and she was still insistent on working that night shift. So I made my way to the small community room where the meetings were held. I was early and surprised to find Chloe already waiting on the doorstep. It was obvious she had been crying, so I quickly unlocked the door and we made our way in.
I initially thought she must have had some kind of relationship break up. After all, she was only just 15, and love is always tough at that age, whatever sexual orientation you are!
Little did I know how wrong that assumption was to prove.

Her stepfather came through the doors like a bull elephant. I had heard he had a notorious temper, but I didn’t expect to be facing it head on.
I didn’t even have time to react as he ran towards us where we were standing pulling the plastic seats that were stacked around the edge of the room down ready for the meeting.
Chloe screamed, and I just threw a chair at him, just at the moment he hit Chloe and sent her crashing to the floor.
He screamed and shouted about her being nothing more than a filthy dyke and that she was going to be sorry for this.
The chair missed its target.

I managed to open my eyes and Lydia was sitting alongside me frowning slightly.
“What?” I croaked, through swollen lips.
“Try not to talk. You’re pretty battered about, but you’ll be pleased to know that no major harm has been done. It might even have knocked some sense into you.” Lydia said sternly, even though I could tell she was grateful to see I was awake and sort of with it.
It was then it dawned on me I was on a trolley in a hospital cubicle, probably in the Accident and Emergency department.
“Chloe?” I managed to ask.
“She’ll be fine.” Lydia reassured me. “I’m going to give you a pretty strong painkiller now that’ll probably knock you out.”

Before I could say anything more, Lydia had stabbed my left thigh with a needle and I felt a slight stinging sensation as the liquid entered my system.
“Try and sleep. They’ll take you up to a ward as soon as a bed is available. I’ve got to go.”
I soon fell back to sleep and was only vaguely aware of them moving me some time later. I remember muttering when they moved me across from the trolley to a bed, but nothing more until later the next morning.
When I woke up, my mouth was dry and I was so thirsty I felt completely dehydrated, let alone like I had done a boxing round…… more than once.
I was told afterwards by Lydia the nursing staff described me as having ‘concussion, bruising, cuts and grazes, a sprained wrist and an attitude.’

“I can’t believe this crap.” I was beyond angry I was livid.
Lydia tried to calm me down. It was a futile effort.
“He gets away with it…” I stormed around my small sitting room, trying to release some of the adrenalin that was rushing through me.
“It was always going to be difficult….”
I cut Lydia off.
“No, it was impossible with an attitude like that. Oh don’t worry Mr Fielder, you were perfectly within your rights to chastise your step daughter, and why, to even think you would have raped her…. Why that’s preposterous. As for attacking that Group worker, she threw the chair at you and it was pure self defence, and your unwillingness to press charges is admirable.”

“You need to calm down.” Lydia was watching me with anxious eyes, and I knew she was right, but I just couldn’t bring myself to sit down.
“Did you know Chloe has begun to self harm?” I asked as I eventually sunk down onto a chair.
“No I didn’t.” Lydia looked shocked.
“Self harm is considered by many to be highest in the lesbian population, and do you know why that is?” I asked her.
“No.”

“Its been proven to be specifically connected to their sexual identity – and then linked in with that, if any have suffered sexual abuse it can manifest itself by them targeting areas of their bodies such as faces, breasts and genitals.”
“I had no idea it was so bad.” Lydia looked and sounded shocked by the information.
“Neither did I….” I admitted, choking slightly with emotion as I spoke. “That was until I heard about Suzanne. Another women let down by the system. Apparently she was sexually assaulted, made to feel worthless…. And then….” That was the point where I broke down and cried.

“I need to get away from here. Let’s go on holiday.” We were lying in bed, with Lydia holding me, soothing me.
“I can’t.” Lydia sounded sorry and I immediately went on the defensive again.
“Why not? Do you realise you and I have never actually had more than a few days off at a time. You’re always working or need to be somewhere with your family. We should go on a proper holiday.” I argued.
“I can’t do it.” Lydia shifted position and I moved away from the comfort of her embrace and looked at her keenly.

“Why, because your precious career is more important that us? If you took more than a couple of days off it’s hardly going to stop operating…. It can function without you.”
“It’s not because of work.”
“Oh so what is it?” I demanded to know.
“My family.” Lydia said softly, and then she got up from the bed and began to dress.
“Look, perhaps this isn’t such a good idea me being here tonight.” She said as she pulled on her sweater. I sat and watched her in amazement.
“Why are you walking out?”
“Because I can’t talk to you when your like this.” Lydia said looking at me with remorseful eyes.
I didn’t try to stop her walking out, knowing it was futile trying to talk that night. Instead I picked her up the next night from work in my car.

Chapter Fourteen

Nikki sat down without a word and stared defiantly at Helen, who despite trying, still looked bleary eyed and slightly unkempt from her bad evening and night.
“Late night with the good doctor was it?” Nikki asked, her voice full of sarcasm.
“Not like you might think.” Helen replied without thinking and then regretted it as she saw Nikki’s face harden and fill with a pure look of disgust.
“Not that what I did last night is why we are here.” Helen added quickly in what she hoped was a consolatory tone.

“Ah yes, we are here so you can analyse my behaviour to keep me from the block. Some mad capped scheme cooked up by Karen Bett’s, the good doctor and you I’ve no doubt.” Nikki bit back folding her arms defensively. “I bet you all used nice long words like ‘Executive Decision’ when talking about it to make yourselves all feel and sound important. Fine, lets get on with this rigmarole.”
Helen sighed softly before looking at Nikki with a mixture of dread and lost hope.

I loved when I would wake up on the cold winter mornings and snuggle into Lydia. Or when she and I would hug each other to get warm as we got into a chilly bed. Summer was a lovely time of year, but that winter was the best I could ever remember. Lydia and I had been together for a little under 8 months and it felt like we had been together for an eternity. I was already thinking ahead for Christmas and had already got the present I wanted to give Lydia wrapped and hidden away.
The small things were the ones I remember with the most fondness. They were also what I missed the most when Lydia wasn’t there.

It was a bitterly cold wind and so as I parked the car up and waited, I hugged the big coat I was wearing around me even tighter. My car was pretty old and so the heater wasn’t exactly efficient. Certainly it wasn’t up to the task of keeping the car warm, but it did just about manage to keep the windscreen defrosted and demisted as I drove along. It was only the occupants who had to wrap up well and wear gloves in the coldest weather.
I watched as Lydia walked across the car park towards me, and she seemed to be holding back. Or perhaps it was me being paranoid over what wasn’t said yesterday, I don’t really know. Either way, I had an uneasy feeling as she finally got in and we exchanged a quick kiss.

“Ready to go?” I asked noting she hadn’t bothered to pull her seat belt across.
“Nikki…” Lydia turned and faced me looking serious. “I think we should spend some time apart.”
I was totally stunned. I looked back at Lydia bewildered. I knew something was bothering Lydia, but I had no idea she was going to come out with something like this.
“Why?” It was all I could think of saying.
“Because I can’t keep living like this.” Lydia said, before she grasped the door handle and fled the car.

I opened my door and jumped out. Looking across the roof of the car as Lydia began to walk away quickly, I shouted at her retreating back.
“Living like this – what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Lydia stopped dead in her tracks and turned around to face me. I could see tears rolling down her cheeks and the mist that formed from her breath as it hit the frigid air.
For a second I wasn’t sure she was going to answer me, sometimes I wish she never had.

Slowly she walked back towards the car, and me although she made no attempt to get in. Nobody else was around and the cold that had been biting at me seconds earlier suddenly didn’t seem to matter. I just didn’t notice it. It was as if we were the only people in the world surrounded by a bubble.
“I can’t keep living this lie between you and my family.” Lydia was no longer crying but there was deep sorrow showing on her face.
“Then don’t.” I pleaded with her. “We can work out a way to tell them. Let’s start with someone you know will accept it. How about your sister? You are pretty close aren’t you?”

I thought she wavered for a fleeting second and my hope rose, only to see them dashed again.
“I can’t do that. They just wouldn’t understand. Neither would you.” Lydia replied in a very matter of fact voice.
For the first time, I felt some anger.
“Why don’t I understand? If you explain it properly to me I might.” I argued.

“You have always been a strong enough person to stand up and show who you are whatever the consequences. You lost your family and landed up on the streets because of it. You are an enigma to me at times. Intelligent and well educated but very street wise at the same time. I’ve never had the strength or even deep understanding of who I really am. When I met you my life suddenly went into freefall. I looked at your face and felt a rush of something I have never experienced before and doubt I will ever experience again. And still I can’t give you what you truly crave. For us to be together….. openly….. as a couple.”

“I can handle it.” I couldn’t quite get my head around what Lydia was telling me. “Whose to say you won’t feel differently later as you get more comfortable with who you are?”
“That’s the problem Nikki, my family means I can’t feel differently later.”
“Why? God please just explain this to me.” I was beginning to flounder.
“Because I can’t give them up.” Lydia began to turn as if to move away and stopped as I spoke.
“I’m not asking you to give them up.” I frowned. “I am happy with us as a couple now.”
“But it is a choice I would have to make.” Lydia replied. “At some point this won’t be enough for you and you will want more out of our relationship.

It’s funny when you look back at certain events in your life and detail just really stands out. Sometimes it can be quite surreal. This was one of those moments.
As I looked at Lydia, my eyes were drawn to a scene over her shoulder to the entrance to one of the hospital wards. Some guy had obviously been so desperate for a cigarette he was sitting in a wheelchair wearing nothing more than a hospital gown lighting up!
He must be freezing. Were the thoughts drifting through my head as an afterthought to the main event going on in front of me. Suddenly a nurse appeared, obviously telling him off for smoking and he was made to stub the cigarette out as she then wheeled him back through the doors, still giving him an earful as they went.

“I wouldn’t make you choose between you and your family.” My voice brought my thoughts right back to the situation with Lydia. I spoke with full conviction, and I knew I meant it. Would Lydia realise that?
She turned back to face me and gently placed a hand on my left forearm.
“I know you wouldn’t – at least not directly. It is about me having to make this choice because what I am doing isn’t fair on you….or him.”
My frown deepened.

“Him… who do you mean?” I was wondering what her father might have to do with this. I knew he and Lydia were close, I didn’t know she was that worried about how he might react.
“I know you and your father are close, but I would never ever expect you to choose. I can’t see what makes you think I would.
“Because apart from anything, every persons desire is to have that special someone to settle down with. Be a couple properly building up a home. I can’t offer you that Nikki.”
I shook my head and took a deep breath.

“I don’t care. Right now I want to try and sort out why you are so worried about hurting your father.”
Lydia looked embarrassed and her eyes drifted, unable to look at me properly.
“I’m not talking about my father.”
“Your not? Then who?” I asked, my confusion and pain increasing.
The next sentence pole axed me – I felt like someone had taken a baseball bat and struck me with it so hard I was winded.
“I am talking about my husband.”

Chapter Fifteen

“You don’t even know me, so I can’t see how you are going to help.” Nikki looked at Helen.
Helen was troubled with what was happening, but trying to maintain her composure she ignored Nikki’s taunts.
“Then I will get to know you Nikki, even if it destroys me and at the rate I keep messing it all up, I might as well be dead, because you have every right to want to kill me as it is.” Helen looked Nikki straight in the eye and her candour shook Nikki for a second.
“Making me a cold blooded killer once again. I don’t think so… the headlines were good enough last time. They would be even more glee with newspaper editors if I killed a home officer employee who turned out to be my ex lover no less.”

Nikki spat the last part out with pure venom.
Helen’s thoughts tumbled through her mind.
Plan A was to run, but that wasn’t going to be an option, so taking yet another deep breath she decided to go to a hastily adopted Plan B because she knew there wasn’t even a Plan C.
Go straight for the jugular. There was little to lose – no scrub that thought Helen inwardly sighing, there is the lot to lose.
Helen looked back at Nikki unflinchingly, and for a second swore she saw Nikki’s eyes showing emotion that wasn’t hatred. Then, in the time it took Helen to think it, Nikki had an impassive look back as if a mask had dropped.

“You sanctimonious bitch.” Nikki hissed as Helen shrank back in her seat.
Perhaps telling Nikki about reading her work wasn’t such a good idea after all. Helen thought filled with dread. While another part of her was telling her it was the only way to be now – totally honest with Nikki whatever the consequences.
An awkward silence descended.
As the silence between them began to grow longer and more profound, Helen decided that perhaps a more direct approach was warranted. Steeling her courage, she met Nikki's veiled expression.

“I pity you.” Nikki said before Helen could say anything.
"I suppose I should be thankful for small mercies then. After all, pity is marginally better than outright hatred and dislike, so it would appear that I am making progress.” Helen replied gently, her eyes warm as they met Nikki’s.
Seeing the warm glow in Helen’s eyes stopped Nikki from making a caustic remark back.
"Don’t tell me that you are one of those people who thinks that progress is always a good thing?" Nikki commented her serious tone belied by a sudden glint in her eyes that Helen noted with some hope
"Not generally. But, in this particular instance, I am willing to accept it as such. I mean we've managed to have a five-minute conversation without you wanting to bite my head off or wishing me dead by numerous means, each more unpleasant and painful than the last. How could I not see that as progress?"

Yvonne walked in and stopped short. Nikki looked up and shoved the paperwork quickly away, just enough not to be too conspicuous but it was hidden from eyes that might have drifted over.
“Hey, are you okay? I hear you had some kind of meeting with this new shrink area management have got in.” Yvonne pulled the door over just so that is was ajar.
“Yeah I’m fine. It was just a shock to have Helen Stewart playing shrink.” Nikki said with a rueful smile.
“Stewart?” Yvonne looked completely surprised. “I’d heard she was back in but I had no idea it would be this!”
“Yep, she is now back part time at Larkhall as the resident funny farm listener!”

Helen cried again, and Karen was in her office completely stunned by her revelation. She had reached out and passed over a box of tissues before sitting down besides Helen on the small sofa.
"Helen, what the fuck happened? Jesus, I didn’t know or even suspect there was anything going on. Yeah, I knew you and Nikki were close….” Karen sat back slightly. “But lovers? Did you break up with her or what it the other way around? How long did it last? I thought you and Thomas were together? Can you please fill in some of the blanks here.”
Helen wiped her eyes and composed herself before facing Karen.

"I ended it. I wouldn't come out of the closet, I hurt her, and I then walked out from work twice because of her. I know it was my fault."
"What? When did you end it?"
"Last year. We've been apart for almost a year."
“So Jim was right.” Karen said with a deep breath.
“Yes, on this occasion he was Karen….” Helen paused before deciding how much more she should say to Karen.
“There is one other thing you should know about.”
“Fuck.” Was all Karen said after Helen explained about Nikki’s escape.

I think I was crying, but I couldn’t be too sure. My arms wouldn’t move so I couldn’t bring my fingers up to touch my face to check.
I then crumpled against the still open car door; grateful for the support it gave me.
“I’m so sorry.”
I hear Lydia but it sounds like she is down a pit, deep and hollow.
I don’t think I said anything to her. I know I looked across the roof at where she was moving away from the car with a slow heavy walk. I then got in the car and just drove where I collapsed exhausted on the sofa and the tears ran freely again. Several times on the drive back I had fought to see through the blur of salty tears as they had fallen.

Lydia did come around the following day. It was then she had explained how she split her time between him and me. Apparently he is called Andy, not that I needed or wanted to know that, but she insisted on giving me his name anyway.
She worked it so I wouldn’t come around to her house by using her odd shift patterns as an excuse. Andy was also apparently told she was working when she came and spent some time with me. Obviously some of the time she was working, just not as much as either Andy or I suspected.
Sometimes she just said she was with girlfriends from the hospital having a girly night in.
I didn’t cry – all my tears had been spent by then.

If Lydia had asked me to give it another try there and then though, I am sure I would have said yes. I am pleased I didn’t have to make that choice. I don’t know how I would have coped with the duplicity of the situation once the emotion of the moment waned.
By the time Lydia left, I just felt numbed and my brain seemed to shut down. I hadn’t shouted or ranted at her. I just couldn’t find the energy to even call her names. The next few days were spent in a complete haze.

I was cajoled and berated by the small circle of close friends who were telling me I had to get out and not to fester in my flat.
I knew they were right, but somehow I couldn’t face going anywhere. Sure, I went to work, did what I had to do, but then get home, through some tasteless cardboard meal into the microwave and nuke it before collapsing on my sofa with the television on that I would then flick through the channels. The one friend who was there the most was Trisha. Never at anytime did either of us think of it any other way.

I changed my job during this time as well. I wanted to try and move away from reminders of Lydia, so despite the advice to the contrary from friends, I put my flat on the market and went to buy another one. It, completely by chance, was only a short distance from where Trisha was living, and so we began to see more of each other as I began to come out of hiding.
I began running a newly opened lesbian bar as their manager. Trisha was also involved in the pub and club trade as a sales representative.

The hours were long and often frustrating, but I refused advances from women. I had gone to the other extreme of not even wanting to let someone close enough to have a short relationship like I had when I was a teenager.
I slowly went out for meals and drinks with the small close-knit circle of friends I had developed. All avoided the subject of Lydia, but I knew there were times she had been discussed while I had popped away for a minute when we were out. I would come back from the toilets or getting a drink to suddenly have a hush descending over everyone for a split second. I didn’t mention it either, I was grateful they didn’t talk too much about it to me then. I am not too sure how I might have coped. Not too well I suspect.
Then again, I didn’t cope as well as I thought. A year later, I began to finally fall apart.

Chapter Sixteen

Helen ended the session quickly, seeing that she and Nikki were on some even ground for a change and the last thing she wanted was for it all to collapse and they parted on bad terms again. At least this way, Helen knew they parted without full anger and recriminations pouring out of either of them.
Nikki made her way back to her cell, and the door was closed behind her to spend some more hours locked up and alone.
She moved and opening her cupboard door, pulled out a book and opened it.
Until we meet on the outside H x

The words that Nikki had read so many times before seemed to hit her hard, and she staggered back onto her bed. Her thoughts returned to the look and smile Helen had given her when she handed the book over, a cheeky sideways glance and her warm open smile, and then how Fenner in the office had assaulted Helen later.
The memory was too much and Nikki began to weep. Softly at first, before she was sobbing, unable to stop the gulping breath as her tears fell.
Thoughts tumbled through her mind – broken as the meaning of Sophie’s World penetrated, what it had showed Nikki about Helen and how against the Helen it was you saw day in, day out.
Philosophy, free will and dreams.

Helen had opened up and shown Nikki a part of her world no one else knew about or understood. That was when Nikki had seen Helen’s inner fighting going on, how she had, like Sophie, wanted to break free as a spirit. It was more than just a book for them both, it had symbolised so much that was between them in so many subtle ways. Nikki pushed the book away, unable to look at it and be reminded of its meaning before collapsing into her pillow, the sobbing increased again.

“Nikki, what’s wrong?” Trisha had walked into the small office I used at the club I was now a manager for. I hadn’t heard her, and I felt a hand come up and rest on my shoulder.
“Your shaking.” Trisha then said with a frown and she pulled on my body, forcing me to turn around and face her.
I just shook my head and I remember leaning in for a hug.
“I know something is wrong, please tell me.”
I heard the concern in Trisha’s voice and I almost managed to hold it together, but I couldn’t any longer.
“Sue dumped me today.”
The words were whispered and the tears ran silently down my cheeks and were soaked up by the fabric of Trisha’s top.

Trisha’s eyes narrowed and she clasped me tighter. Even though I couldn’t see her face, I could tell she was livid.
“That’s no way to treat someone, especially when it’s someone who should be treated like you would your prized possession.”
I heard the underlying fury in her tone, and one part of me was grateful for her support.
“It’ll be okay.” I said, slowly bringing my tears under control.
“It will be once I’ve had a word with her.” Trisha replied angrily.
“No.” I looked at her sternly. “I don’t want any revenge or comments over this. Sue has made her feelings known, and while her timing stinks, I would rather know now and move on.”

I know I sounded a lot more secure that I felt but I wanted no retribution by anyone over the timing of her decision.
“I can’t help it Nicola. It wouldn’t take much thought to do it another time, but not just ahead of your anniversary together and she knew you had this holiday booked.”
I knew Trisha was really angry and upset for me because she only used my full name when she was being serious.
“I know, but we can’t change it.” I said, finally regaining my composure and moving away from Trisha I moved back to sit behind my desk. “I guess its another lesson I have to learn.” I then said, somewhat ruefully.
“Well, how about we plan a different trip?” Trisha suggested, “Perhaps we can arrange a group trip away, we haven’t done that in ages.”
I nodded. A group of 6 to 8 of us would often rent a cottage somewhere for a break, and the idea appealed.

A slight shiver ran through my body as a slight evening breeze whipped up, and I grabbed my jumper from the back on the chair I was sitting on and put it on.
The group had managed to book a cottage away in the West Yorkshire district, pretty well in the heart of Bronte country and it was our second night there. We had a barbeque that evening, and I was left with Trisha sitting outside on the patio as dusk fell, the others opting to go in.
I looked across at Trisha, and she smiled coyly.
“What?” I asked noting her demeanour.
Trisha shook her head slowly and that was when I felt goose bumps trail across my skin. Only this time it wasn’t the breeze causing it.
This was when I finally realised whey I felt so happy every time Trisha was around and why I felt miserable when she wasn’t.

The realisation made me hypersensitive to my surroundings and I could almost feel her touch on my skin, even though she was sitting away from me and my heart began to prance wildly in my chest.
“What?” I asked again as I saw Trisha smile widen.
“Your beautiful.” Trisha answered.
“Awww, stop, I’m blushing.” I responded, curious to see if Trisha was going adm