This
is the second story for Bad Girls that I've written. It is the sequel
to Dead Slow and while it's not entirely
necessary that you read that first, it would probably help a great
deal. This was posted to my site on May 1st, 2005.
Slow & Steady
She closed the door quietly behind her, reaching up to twist the lock in a gesture so automatic that she didn’t even notice it. The flat was small, a rectangular room with a tiny kitchenette at one end, and a cramped living room at the other. Two doors led off to a bedroom and bathroom respectively. The bedroom contained a queen-sized bed that was too large for it, leaving barely a foot or so of space between it and the walls on either side. The battered bureau at the foot took up what little free space was left. Through the small window on one wall, the lights from the street offered enough illumination for her to see what she was doing.
Emptying her pockets onto the dresser, she placed her keys, wallet and loose change with deliberate care so as not to make any noise and disturb the compact form curled up on the right side of the bed. Then she slipped silently out of her outfit, hanging the red satin shirt, tailored jacket and dark trousers in the tiny closet. Black lace underwear was discarded into the dark corner with the rest of the dirty clothes that waited the next washday.
Naked, she turned to discover her effort to be as quiet as possible had all been for naught. The woman in her bed was wide awake, sitting up against a pile of pillows and regarding her with grayish green eyes.
“Hiya Nikki,” she greeted quietly, her words flavored with a distinctly Scottish accent. Helen Stewart was the sort of woman that warranted a second look at the worst of times. Nude body tucked up in a tangle of duvet and sheets, her lovely face blurred from sleep and framed by random strands of dark blondish hair, she was absolutely gorgeous.
Nikki smiled lazily. “Hey, you.”
“How was your night?”
“The usual,” she said as she crawled up the length of mattress on her hands and knees to join Helen who drew back the covers to welcome her in. She groaned in sheer, sensual pleasure as she settled against that warm form, smooth skin and soft curves providing a haven of delight that was almost enough to make her cry.
Slipping her arm around Nikki’s shoulders as she settled against her, Helen drew her head down to rest on her shoulder. “You look tired.”
“Hmm,” Nikki responded wearily, “Guess I’m still not used to the late nights.” She tightened the arm across Helen’s abdomen, squeezing lightly in an affectionate hug. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I am too, sweetheart.”
Nikki burrowed into her neck, kissing the soft skin, mouthing it gently as she spread her fingers across the soft swell of Helen’s stomach. Helen made a small sound, midway between pleasure and dismay.
“Don’t start anything you’re too tired to finish,” she warned lightly.
Nikki lifted her head to look at her. “Has that ever happened?”
“There’s always a first time.”
Nikki bit her earlobe gently. “I just want to make love to you, darling. I’ve thought of nothing else all night.” Her fingertips stroked Helen’s belly lightly, teasingly, dipping lower to tangle in the curled mat of hair, tugging on the wiry strands gently. “Are you objecting?”
Helen squirmed and pulled her close. “Not at all,” she said huskily.
Nikki laughed and sought out her lips, kissing her with slow pleasure. There was a time not so long ago when she never thought this would be possible. She had spent five years in prison for killing a police officer that had been trying to rape her girlfriend. While in HMP Larkhall, she’d met Helen, who worked there as a wing governor. Somehow, despite all the obstacles and strikes against them, they fell in love, and after winning her appeal, her life sentence for murder was reduced to manslaughter with provocation. Nikki was once more a free woman.
Free to hold the woman she loved in her arms, free to explore that compact body thoroughly and seek out all the sensitive spots she had come to know so well over the past few months. It still felt like a dream at times, albeit a most pleasant one. Dipping her head with a quiet gratitude, she took a soft nipple between her lips, tickling it lightly with the tip of her tongue.
Helen exhaled loudly and pressed closer as Nikki cupped the other breast in her hand. Squeezing gently, she chafed the soft protuberance into a point of sheer firmness with her thumb as she continued to use her mouth on the other.
“Nikki...”
She loved hearing her name spoken by Helen, particularly in that tone of breathless desire. Slowly, she took her hand from the breast, slipping easily down the curve of Helen's waist to her hip, then to the inside of her thigh, stroking lightly to the wetness that was like silk on her fingers. Helen’s head went back and she moaned softly into the night as Nikki kissed her throat and neck, fondling her with tender intensity.
“I love you, Helen,” she whispered. “Always.”
“Oh God, Nikki...”
Helen’s hands tightened on her lover’s shoulders, nails digging in as Nikki slipped two fingers inside her, probing deep into the heat and moisture. Pressing her thumb rhythmically on the swollen ridge, it wasn’t long before pleasure overwhelmed Helen. The sound from her lips at that moment was incoherent, not a name or a word, but simply a cry of pure and utter delight as she arched, pulsing sweetly around Nikki’s fingers buried within her.
Nikki closed her eyes as she held her, hand still incased in the liquid warmth, hearing Helen’s soft gasps as she tried to catch her breath. Flexing her fingers slightly, she made Helen twitch from the aftershocks, and she smiled, feeling more than a little satisfied with herself.
Eventually, Helen reached for Nikki, but she could only groan and withdraw gently. “Sweetie, I can’t. I’m flat-out knackered.”
Startled, Helen lifted her head, trying to see her in the darkness. “Seriously?”
“It’ll be an absolute waste of time trying. I swear I’ll fall asleep midway through.” Nikki slipped her arms around Helen and pulled her close.
“Well, you certainly know how to make a girl feel competent.” Helen’s voice was wry in the night.
Bashfully, Nikki buried her face in the soft hair. “Ah, Helen.”
Helen made an apologetic sound and stroked the back of Nikki’s neck, tangling her fingers in the short curls there. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’m just teasing. I know you’re exhausted. Thank you for making me feel so wonderful.”
“Anytime.” Nikki yawned widely and settled against the warm body. “I promise, tomorrow you can have your way with me all day, if you’d like.”
“I would,” Helen told her quietly, kissing her tenderly. “Go to sleep, and I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
But Helen wasn't there when Nikki woke up four hours later, and she sighed as she reached across the bed and grabbed a pillow to hug. Undoubtedly, Helen had slipped out to pick up some coffee at the local cafe down the street since Nikki didn't have a coffee maker in her flat, and Helen absolutely abhorred instant. Burying her nose in the pillowcase, Nikki inhaled the warm scent that still lingered, feeling a little lonely, though she knew Helen would only be gone a little while. She loved having her in her flat, particularly when she finished the late shift in the club. It was so much easier to climb the stairs to the third floor knowing that Helen waited for her.
It was just too bad that she couldn't expect to enjoy it after this weekend.
Groaning, Nikki rolled over onto her back and linked her fingers behind her head, staring up at the grimy ceiling. On Monday morning, Helen started her new job with the Home Office’s Correctional & Rehabilitation Policy Unit, and even if she might still be waiting in Nikki's bed on the occasional Saturday night, there would be no more of her cheerfully adjusting her schedule to coincide with Nikki's. Government employees worked from eight to five, Monday through Friday. Chix, London's hottest lesbian nightclub, was open evenings, Monday to Thursday, four to one, and on Fridays and Saturdays, until three in the morning. Trisha, Nikki's business partner and ex-girlfriend, had worked hard the past few years to create reasons for people to drop by the club even during the week, so it wasn't as if they had any slow nights that Nikki could skip off.
Nikki still wasn't sure what she and Helen would do about the imminent lack of free time to spend together. She didn't think she'd mind driving down to South London, where Helen's flat was located, during the week when she was finished by half one or two, though she certainly didn't want to be climbing into bed and disturbing Helen who needed to be up at six the next morning. But on the weekends, closing generally kept the staff at the club until four or five, and not only did Nikki not want to be driving over to Helen’s at that time, she was usually too tired to do so safely. Yet, she didn't feel it was fair to ask Helen to spend her weekends in the dingy flat waiting for Nikki to finish work, or in the club, subject to loud dance music and drunken lesbians who kept trying to pick her up.
If only her flat was nicer and larger. Or Helen lived closer. Or they had jobs that offered similar hours.
"You look serious."
Startled, Nikki jerked so hard the entire bed shook. She hadn't even heard the door in the outer room open, or Helen's footsteps crossing the wooden floor.
"I was just thinking," she admitted as she looked up at her lover standing in the doorway.
Helen moved carefully down the narrow space between the bed and the wall, trying not to bang her elbows as she deposited a large brown bag on the bedside table. "Dare I ask about what?"
"Us and what we’re going to do," Nikki admitted as she sat up and reached for the bag, pulling out a cup of coffee, a bagel with cream cheese and a large cherry danish. She looked at what Helen considered breakfast and tried not to cringe. "Have you ever heard of whole grain cereals?"
"Do I look like a sheep?"
“Well, you eat like a kid.”
Helen favored her with a pitying look. “City girl. Kids are baby goats. Lambs are baby sheep.”
“I know that, but it wouldn’t have been funny if I said you eat like a lamb.”
“Oh, it was supposed to be funny?”
“Smartarse.”
Helen smiled and began to undress, stepping out of her jeans, taking off her t-shirt and peeling off her undergarments while Nikki watched appreciatively. Slipping naked under the duvet, Helen reached for her breakfast as Nikki resigned herself to crumbs in the sheets.
"I presume you didn't bring anything for me."
Helen shot her a skeptical look as she sipped her coffee. "Would you eat anything I brought you from there?"
Nikki thought of the dingy café a few blocks down and wrinkled her nose. "Frankly, I don't know how you can eat anything from there. It's absolutely disgusting."
"You’re too fussy," Helen said placidly and took a big bite of her bagel.
Nikki repressed a delicate shudder and rose from the bed. Nude, she strolled out to the small kitchenette where she retrieved a box from the cupboard and filled a big bowl. After covering the cereal with skimmed milk and sliced bananas, she carried it back into the bedroom.
“Now that’s disgusting,” Helen commented as she held the dish while Nikki climbed back into bed.
“You don’t
know what’s good for you,” Nikki told her.
“I must
not,” Helen agreed amiably. “Otherwise
how’d we end up together?”
“Because
you’re tremendously fortunate.”
There was a
pause, and then Helen leaned over, kissing Nikki to end the trading of
barbs. “I am,” she muttered and kissed
her again before returning to her breakfast.
Nikki
smiled and licked a smear of cream cheese off her bottom lip. Maybe Helen was right about that little hole
in the wall, she thought. That hadn’t
tasted half bad; though it was entirely possible it was the flavor of
the woman
and not the food that made it palatable.
With any
luck, she’d be able to taste a lot more of Helen in the immediate
future.
Breakfast over, Helen took the bowl from her lover and placed it on the bedside table. Nikki glanced at her sideways, a small smile curving her lips, indicating she had a faint idea of what she had in mind. Reaching beneath the covers, Helen put her hand on Nikki’s thigh. “I believe you mentioned something about having my way with you this morning?”
Nikki pretended to think. “You know, it’s possible that I did.”
Helen didn’t let her pretend very long, rolling over to stretch out on top of that glorious length of body with a low groan of pleasure. She never grew tired of loving Nikki, of stroking the soft skin, of feeling her warmth pressed against her, of being free to touch and tease and taste her in the most intimate and gratifying of ways. As they moved against each other, she completely understood how Nikki could make love to her so thoroughly the night before, yet not require anything in return. There was a deep and abiding satisfaction in pleasing a woman, as fulfilling in its own way as being made love to.
It wasn't anything Helen had ever felt with the various men in her life. She’d enjoyed sex with them, had even enjoyed getting them off at times without reciprocation, but then it was more a display of power on her part, of having them completely under her control. With Nikki, making love to her was both glorious and humbling, offering a constant sense of wonder that she could grant such complete and utter delight to her.
Of course, the best was when they made love together, splitting focus between providing pleasure and receiving it, sharing completely that profound moment when they were able to peak simultaneously, looking deep into the other's eyes. It didn't happen often, and required a certain amount of discipline and concentration, but when they managed it, the result was absolutely marvelous. Even the failures, where one climaxed before the other, were a great bit of fun and entirely worthwhile.
"What are you thinking?" Nikki's voice was lazy as she lay in her arms some hours later, completely relaxed and sated from their encounter.
"How much I enjoy being with you," Helen murmured. She looked down at the dark head resting on her shoulder, stroking the smooth cheek lightly with her fingertips. "You really are the most amazing lover."
"Better than the men you've been with?"
Helen frowned, abruptly annoyed. "Why do you do that?"
Nikki lowered her eyes, flushing faintly. "Sorry."
"What do you think they can give me that you can't? Do you really believe I'm that hung up on co..." She paused, searching for another way of saying it that would be less confrontational. "My partner having a penis?"
"No," Nikki admitted in a low voice. "I mean, if that's all you need, I can always buy a strapon."
Helen blinked, momentarily distracted by the concept. "A strapon?"
But Nikki wasn’t listening, sadness etching her narrow features. "I know it's not about that, Helen. I guess it'll just take time before I believe that I deserve the good things in my life and stop trying to screw them up."
Feeling her heart catch at both the expression and the tone, Helen reminded herself of how many times Nikki had been hurt over the past few years ... and of how many times she had been the cause. Cupping her cheek, she drew Nikki’s face up until the big brown eyes met hers. "Then I'll just have to be patient, won't I?” she told her quietly. “And remember to tell you how much I love you every day."
Nikki regarded her gravely, the furrow in her brow smoothing out. "You're the amazing one, darling. Why do you put up with me?"
"It's a dirty job, but someone has to do it." That drew a smile from Nikki and prompted Helen to kiss her quite thoroughly.. “You said something earlier,” Helen said after they came up for air. “That you were thinking about us and what we were going to do. What did you mean?”“Our work situation.” Nikki shifted slightly in her arms so that she was lying more on top of Helen and able to look down at her, dark eyes intent. “It’s going to be difficult.”
“But not impossible,” Helen reminded her. “We’ll just have to see how it goes. Once we have the work routine down, then we can figure out how to best schedule our time.”
“Now you sound like a certain wing governor I once knew". Nikki abruptly grinned. "Will I have to make appointments to see you, Miss Stewart?”
Helen lifted her brow at the reminder of their time in Larkhall. “I don’t know why you would. Every time you were in my office, I was yelling at you because you’d done something to piss me off.”
“Not every time," Nikki countered. "You did call me there once to ask me to try Open University, remember?” Nikki nibbled lightly on her chin. “In fact, you flirted with me to get me to try it.”
Helen frowned, searching her memory. “I did not.”
Nikki offered a skeptical look. “C’mon, ‘as a favor to me’. Did you pull a lot of girls with that line?”
“Just the one, apparently.” Helen wrapped her arms around her lover’s neck and pulled her down for a kiss. “Honestly, Nikki, you really did turn my world inside out. I never knew whether I was coming or going.”
“And now?”
Helen grinned cheekily. “Now I’m mostly coming.”
“Only mostly?”
Helen lovingly drew her finger along Nikki’s bottom lip. “You know what you do to me. And keep doing to me over and over and over again.”
Nikki smiled and kissed her fingertip. “That’s the best thing about women, Helen. We just keep going and going and going...” She used her knee to nudge Helen’s thighs apart as she began to kiss her way down her body.
Exhaling, Helen put her head back, enjoying the play of lips and tongue on her skin. As desire rose like a smoldering flame, her eyes drifted and she made the supreme mistake of glancing at the clock on the bedside table. Biting off a curse, she pulled away from the skillful caresses with a decided effort. “Nikki, I can’t. I have to go home.”
Nikki lifted her head, looking ruffled, her dark hair sticking up on end. “Huh?”
Helen sighed. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she said with honest regret. “I have some things I need to go over before tomorrow, and I just can’t put them off any longer.”
“Oh. Okay.” Nikki’s brow was furrowed slightly, but she slipped back up the bed to kiss Helen gently on the lips. “You’ll do great in your new job, darling. They’re lucky to have you.”
Helen knew that, but it was nice to hear anyway. “What about you?”
“Me?” Nikki shrugged. “Might do some cleaning.” She looked around with a wry grin. “Though it requires a sledge hammer rather than a mop.”
“No, I mean I want you to come home with me.”
“Ah, Helen, you don’t need me getting under your feet.”
Helen stared at her, astonished that Nikki still thought like that, even now. “You wouldn’t be in the way,” she said with forced patience. “Please, Nikki. I want to wake up with you tomorrow morning, and have you be there while I get ready for my first day on the job.” She paused, finding it hard to say but forcing it out anyway. “I need you to be there.”
Nikki looked surprised but pleased. “All right, I’ll go home with you. You only had to ask.”
“I don’t want to have to ask. I want you to want to be there.”
Frowning slightly, Nikki looked down into her eyes. “I do want to be there, Helen. I reckon...I don’t often feel that you need me in your life…not that way. It always surprises me when you tell me.”
“Well, it shouldn’t. I need you as much as you need me.” Helen nudged her. “Now get off me before I change my mind.”
“About my coming home with you?”
“No, about my wanting you off me.”
“Well, I can always get back on you when we get to your place,” Nikki offered reasonably.
“Promise?”
Nikki grinned and kissed her, slowly, with admirable thoroughness. By the time they came up for air, Helen had changed her mind but Nikki had already rolled over and risen from the mattress in one easy motion, her flexibility an absolute delight to witness. Helen stifled a sigh and waited until the she had gathered some clothes and headed for the bathroom … there really wasn't room for more than one person to move about the bedroom at any one time …before slipping out of bed.
It wasn’t long before they were on their way to Helen’s flat in South London. Even when stopping briefly for lunch at a café along the way, it was still mid-afternoon when they arrived. After she put her satchel containing some extra clothes in the bedroom, Nikki wandered back to the living room where Helen had several of her old files spread over the large coffee table.
“So can I get on top of you now?”
Helen glanced up at the comment and offered a grin. “Later,” she said. “Why don’t you go do something in the garden? God knows, I haven’t touched it since Sean left, outside of having the boy next door cut the grass.”
“I wondered why it was such a mess.” Nikki paused. “That’s the real reason you wanted me to come home with you, isn’t it? Free gardening.”
Helen looked her up and down languidly. “Oh, you’ll be paid."
“You don’t even know what I charge yet, Miss.”
“I think I can meet any price you can come up with.”
“Hmm, we’ll
see about that.” Nikki nodded at the
files and sobered. “What exactly will
you be doing at this place, anyway?”
“I’ll be working as a prison
services coordinator,” Helen explained.
“The unit's purpose is to institute a range of programs to
assist female inmates deal with
the various problems they face, from drug addiction to domestic abuse. Sort of like what I did with the lifers’
group, only more involved. In fact, the
work I did with that group is why they gave me the job.
More
than one program is necessary because the women have their
own individual needs, and I want to create specific guidelines that
target each
particular aspect of those requirements.”
Nikki leaned against the doorframe of the bedroom, a serious expression appearing on her face. “Will you be going into the prisons to do this?”
“Probably not.” Helen shrugged as she looked over her notes from the various programs she had worked on throughout her career. “I won’t be running the programs, just coordinating them. Even if I do have to make an onsite visit, it would only be to set up the basic outline and evaluate the training procedures for the personnel.”
“Would you be going back to Larkhall?”
“Not if I can help it.” The words were out of Helen’s mouth before she realized, and when she did, she had to put down the sheet of paper because her hand had started shaking. Uncomfortably, she lifted her eyes to meet Nikki’s, and was oddly relieved to find only empathy and compassion in that intent gaze.
After a second or two, Nikki straightened. “So, you’re giving me free rein to do what I want in your garden?”
Helen took a breath, trying to regain the composure she’d lost, unsure why she had and afraid to examine it too closely. Forcing a smile, she spread out her hands. “It’s all yours. Just remember I have neighbors, so don’t bring in any heavy equipment.”
“What, you don’t want statues of naked nymphs cavorting around the fountain?”
Helen laughed, the last trace of her unease disappearing. “The only naked nymph I want is you, and the garden is not where I want you cavorting.”
Nikki
flashed her a smile and disappeared into the kitchen, on her way out
the back
door. Helen looked after her for a
moment, pleased that Nikki was so enthusiastic about tackling the job. Hopefully, it would grant her a sense of
belonging that was obviously lacking in the relationship so far.
Helen
looked back at her files. With any
luck, Nikki would even start to feel at home here, and then it would be
a
simple matter to convince her to move out of that horrid little flat
over the
club.
Nikki
surveyed the ruins of what must have been a rather spectacular little
garden at
one time. There was just enough left to
indicate how much care and time had once gone into it, but then, if she
remembered correctly, Sean had been a pretty decent gardener.
She had actually learned a thing or two when
he’d been roped into giving a talk at Larkhall. A
sort of weedy young man, she’d detected his nervousness right
away when he walked into the room, and when the other inmates started
giving
him a hard time, she brought them back into line so that he could do
his little
lecture. Of course, that was before she
discovered he was Helen’s fiancé. She
still remembered that sick feeling that had come over her when she
heard
it. Was that when she first realized
she was in love with the woman?
Nikki
shook
her head. Although it had been pretty
horrible at the time, the memory had softened over the years, and she
could even
remember it with a bit of humor now. It
was after Sean’s lecture that Helen showed up in the potting shed,
demanding to
know why Nikki had been so upset about finding out she was engaged. One self encouraged breast grope later,
leading directly into an even more awkward lecture in the office, and
Nikki had
the first inkling that perhaps Helen wasn’t as straight as she might
like to
believe. When the fateful words came
out of Helen’s mouth; “Even if I were attracted to you, which I’m not,
there’s no
way we could have a relationship,” Nikki suspected she had something. Faint, but definitely there, because of
course, no straight bird would even consider the consequences of
having a
relationship with her. It rapidly
became a matter of the lady protesting too much.
“Helen, do you have a crowbar?”
Helen glanced up from her papers, frowning slightly. “I think there’s one in the shed.”
Nikki resisted the first smartarse comment that popped into her head. “Well, that’s a problem, because it’s the shed I’m trying to get into. The door’s padlocked.”
“I’m sure there’s a key around here somewhere.”
That’s exactly what Nikki had been afraid of, but rather than go off on a futile search for something that was unlikely to be found in the next decade, she shook her head.
“Wouldn’t work,” she told her, fudging just a little. “The lock’s completely rusted over. I’m going to have to break it.”
Helen regarded her for a moment, either wondering why Nikki was bothering her with this or why she was just plain bothering in the first place since the whole garden idea was obviously nothing more than a way to keep Nikki out of her hair for the time being. Sometimes, Helen was blatantly transparent, and that was why Nikki intended to completely transform the back garden, just to aggravate her. Besides, it would significantly increase the value of the property when it came time for Helen to sell it and move to larger accommodations.
“There’s a tire iron in the boot of the car,” Helen offered after some thought.
“That’ll do.”
Helen dug
into her jacket pocket, and after handing Nikki the keys, immersed
herself once more in
her
files. Nikki stifled a grin and went
out the front door to where the little red Peugeot 306 was parked by the curb. Digging around the trunk, she first had to shift a
box of half empty windshield washer bottles and a few things that
didn’t really belong, before finally finding the tire
iron
tucked away in the corner.
Checking the sun, she determined
that she still had a few hours of daylight left and headed inside,
annoyed that
she had to walk through the house to get to the garden.
Any new place they bought would definitely
have enough room for a path and a gate leading to the back of the house.
She noticed that Helen didn’t even look
up as she went through,
and Nikki wondered if that was how it would be once they started living
together. She knew Helen’s career in the
prison
service was very important to her.
That’s what made the sacrifices she’d willingly embraced for
Nikki
all the more remarkable. But there was
no question that once she had her head into a project, it wasn’t easy
to bring
her back around to the truly important things in life.
Nikki decided that she’d probably been
spoiled in the months since leaving Larkhall.
Helen had concentrated completely on her. That
was about to change and only time would tell how big a shift
it would be, or how much adjustment they would have to make to
accommodate it.
Breaking the lock took only a minimal
effort, though when Nikki opened the door to the shed, she wondered why
anyone
had bothered to secure the interior in the first place. It
was full of broken gardening tools,
cracked plant pots, half full bags of peat that had mildewed and one
extremely
corroded crowbar. Cobwebs filled the
corners and dust glittered in the solitary sunbeam piercing the small,
grimy
window.
“Christ,” she muttered. Shaking her
head, she turned around and
headed back into the house. Pausing in
the living room arch, she watched Helen silently for a few
moments, just
because it was a pleasure to do so.
Eventually, her scrutiny became apparent
to Helen, and she looked up, puzzlement furrowing her brow. “What is it, Nikki?”
“Do you remember when you had Sean
do that lecture at the prison?”
Helen hesitated, her sudden caution so readily apparent that
Nikki had to swallow back a laugh. “Yeah.”
“Did he tell you that Dockley gave him a really hard time?”
“Yes, he did. He also told me that you intervened and kept it from becoming a complete disaster.” Helen pursed her lips. “That was obviously before you realized he was my boyfriend.”
Nikki waved that off. “Afterward, he thanked me and said that he owed me a few hours weeding once I finally had myself a garden. Do you have his number by any chance?”
Helen stared at her. “What?”
“His number. Do you have it?” Nikki offered with forced patience and a completely straight face. She wished she could take a picture of Helen’s expression at the moment and have it framed. It was absolutely priceless. “The man owes me. It’s going to take weeks to clean up that garden, and the least he can do is help me out like he promised. Besides, he’s a professional, right? I’ll hire him. He already knows the grounds, so it’s not as if I’ll have to draw up plans or anything.”
Helen stared at her a moment longer, clearly at a loss, and Nikki couldn’t hold it anymore. She started to laugh, which caused Helen to pick up the nearest cushion from the sofa and fling it at her. Nikki ducked and laughed harder.
“I can’t believe you were winding me up like that.” Helen’s tone was equal parts embarrassment and annoyance.
“I can’t believe you let me,” Nikki responded when she regained her breath. “Though I’d love to hear what he had to say if I did call him up and offered him the job to redo your garden.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Helen ordered in an irrefutable tone that made Nikki start to laugh all over again. That stubborn jaw suddenly quivered, and Nikki wasn’t sure if it was due to amusement or anger, so she decided she had better change the subject.
“Well, if you don’t have his number, do you have some gloves?”
“What kind of gloves?”
“Gloves I can get dirty. Gardening or work gloves would be best, but any old pair will do. I want to clean out the shed before it gets dark.”
Helen exhaled audibly and thought about it for a moment. “Actually, I think I bought Sean some gardening gloves for Christmas that year, and I don’t remember ever taking them back to the shop after we split up. I must have them put away somewhere.”
“Where?”
Helen shot her a look. “I’m thinking.”
“Okay.” Nikki leaned against the doorframe, crossed her arms across her chest and waited patiently. The one thing about being in prison was that it really taught a person how to wait for things, because heaven knew, nothing came easy or quickly. Time was the one commodity everyone had plenty of.
After a
minute or two of Helen cogitating furiously, her face brightened
triumphantly
and she pointed toward the bedroom.
“Try
the crap drawer. Bureau, bottom left
hand side.”
Nikki resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Apparently, Helen had a crap drawer in every room. One in the kitchen on the end of the counter under the mugs, one in the living room in the table next to the settee and now, it seemed, one in the bedroom in the dresser opposite the foot of the bed.
“Thank you.”
Moving into the bedroom, she knelt down and pulled out the bottom drawer, having some difficulty because it was heavy from all the items inside. Shaking her head, Nikki poked through the collection that included half burned candles, cheap costume jewelry years out of style, hair pins, empty CD covers and of course, a wealth of partially used pens and pencils. Nikki had never met anyone who had so many writing utensils stashed away, yet could never seem to find one when she needed it.
Down at the bottom of the drawer, there was a spanking new pair of gardening gloves. Smiling, she dug them out and was about to slide the drawer shut when the white rectangle of an envelope at the rear caught her eye. She didn’t know why it had struck something familiar inside her, but with a frown, she pulled it out from where it was tucked away in the very back of the drawer.
Her breath caught as she saw her own handwriting scrawled across the envelope. Leaning back against the foot of the bed, she opened it up and drew out the paper inside. Her hands began to tremble as she realized it was the letter she had written Helen in prison, pouring out her heart and soul in an attempt to convey everything that was impossible to say in the cold confines of Larkhall. Tears stung the back of her eyes as she read the words, so heartfelt at the time, but now seeming nothing more than the desperate ramblings of a person locked away from the woman she loved, permeated with a pathetic loneliness.
“Did you find them?” Helen abruptly appeared in the doorway, looking curiously at Nikki who was still on the floor. Her gaze lit on the paper in Nikki’s hand. “What’s that?”
“The letter I wrote you in prison.” Nikki felt a little piece of her heart shrivel up.
Helen’s face was a study in astonishment. “Where’d you find that?”
Bitterly, Nikki crumpled it up in her hands and tossed it back into the drawer that was still open. “Where it belongs, apparently,” she said scathingly as she snatched up the gloves and rose to her feet. Brushing past Helen, she discovered she couldn’t look at her, the hurt and humiliation too strong in her chest.
“With the rest of the stuff you consider crap.”
Stunned, Helen looked after Nikki, who was headed out the back door, and then at the open drawer where the ball of paper rested. Slowly, she walked across the bedroom and knelt down, retrieving the crumpled scrap that she unfolded with care, making sure she didn’t rip it.
God, how she had searched for this letter when she’d lost it. She glanced up at the top drawer of the bureau where it’d been kept; along with the rest of those things she considered treasures, including the precious few pictures she possessed of her mother. When the letter had disappeared all those months ago, she had tore the bedroom apart in a futile attempt to find it. She hadn’t thought to look in the bottom drawer, though she’d even moved the bureau at one point, thinking that perhaps it had fallen behind or even beneath it. Now she realized that it had somehow been caught in the opening and closing of the top drawer, and had slipped down into the bottom one, concealed by all the scrap.
Taking a breath, she skimmed the words she had come to know so well, each one memorized and emblazoned in her heart. It meant so much to her that Nikki had written this, an expression of devotion that kept her warm on all those cold nights when she’d been here alone, thinking of her beloved locked up in the harsh confines of Larkhall.
And Nikki thought she’d discarded it into her crap drawer? Helen’s first emotions were anger, and a deep hurt that the woman she loved thought so little of her. Then she remembered the look on Nikki’s face as she had exited, and realized how devastating it had been for her to find it there. Perhaps she even believed that Helen had tossed it in there once she’d taken up with Thomas.
“Shit.”
Retrieving the envelope lying on the floor next to the corner of the bureau, she carefully put the wrinkled paper inside it. In the top drawer, she tucked it into the wooden box containing the mementos of her mother. It was where she should have kept it in the first place, she thought regretfully, but she’d been in the habit of taking it out and reading it so often that it had just been easier to lay it on top for easy access.
Stifling a sigh, she went off to find Nikki, finally discovering her in the shed. Nikki was tossing things frenziedly out the door onto the lawn, rakes, a shovel, two or three hoes, and several battered and cracked pots, all of which had been left behind by Helen’s fiancé, Sean.
“Nikki.” She prudently stood back out of the way as an old hammock came flying out the opening. She inhaled deeply. “Nikki!”
Nikki appeared, her dark eyes stormy. “What?”
Helen thought about what she wanted to say and how she wanted to say it. Keep it simple, she decided.
“I lost it months ago,” she said in as even a tone as she could manage. “I kept it in my top drawer and it must have fallen down in behind. I nearly went crazy searching for it.”
Nikki looked at her scornfully. “What difference does it make what drawer you kept it in?”
Helen bit the inside of her cheek. God, Nikki made her want to scream at times. She couldn’t remember anyone in her life that could make her so angry with little more than a look or a word.
“Maybe you should take a look at that top drawer where it was before it was lost,” she said tightly, holding back her temper with a phenomenal effort. Turning on her heel, she stalked away. “I’m going for a walk.”
Furious, she stomped up the back stairs, flew through the house, pausing only long enough to grab her keys and her jacket before storming out the front door and onto the pavement. She didn’t even know where she was going. She just picked a direction at random and started to walk, her stride aggressive and angry, head down as she stared at the cement.
The longer she walked, the more her temper cooled until finally she realized that this was just one more misunderstanding exacerbated by having two strong-willed people involved, and that it would probably continue to happen as long as the pair of them felt so strongly for one another. She reminded herself that Nikki was still adjusting to life on the outside, and that prison kept a hold on inmates long after they had left its walls. Her friend, Claire Walker, had advised patience during these early days, and she needed to practice that whenever possible.
In the meantime, she had to accept that the traits she loved most in Nikki...her passion, her willfulness, her sense of justice and fiery nature...were the very things that combined to drive her crazy when they were directed at her. She supposed that it was the same for Nikki. Helen knew she was short tempered at times, and had a tendency of saying the wrong thing in the heat of the moment, of striking at known weak areas and using words to wound. Sometimes she thought of the things she had said to Nikki in the past, and it made her feel sick inside, horrified that she could say such terrible things to the person she loved most in her life.
Maybe that was even the reason why. Nikki had touched her in a way that no one else ever had, had reached in and claimed a piece of her heart without the slightest effort at all. It made Helen feel so vulnerable, and sometimes that was frightening, which, of course, sparked anger. It should be obvious to anyone who had taken as many psychology courses over the years as she had. Sometimes she wondered if she had learned anything at all from her studies, since she had such difficulty applying it to her own life.
She paused, realizing that she had made an entire circuit of the local roads and was now headed back in the direction of her flat. That was even more predictable, she thought with a grim sort of humor. It didn’t matter how much she wanted to get away from Nikki, a part of her always dragged her back, and sometimes in ways that made it clear how ludicrous it was she’d even thought of leaving in the first place.
Shaking her head, she trudged home, wishing she hadn’t walked so far. By the time she reached her block, her feet were aching and her stomach rumbled, indicating that she had missed dinner. The streetlights were on as she finally walked in the door to find Nikki sitting on the sofa, staring blankly across the room. Her eyes were shadowy as she turned her head to meet Helen's gaze.
"I'm sorry," she said.
Helen felt too drained from her walk to generate much of a response as she sat down beside Nikki. "We can’t keep doing this."
"I know. I was a complete arsehole."
"How do you think it makes me feel when you always assume the worst of me?” Helen's voice wasn't so much angry as tired. “Do you really believe I'm that cold and heartless? Why are you in love with me if that's the case?"
Nikki was silent for a moment. "I don’t think that. I just…I've been hurt so many times that I expect it to happen again any minute. So I jump all over things rather than wait to see what’s actually going on."
Helen absorbed the comment. "I suppose I can understand that, especially since I’ve been the one to hurt you more than once, but that was while we were in Larkhall, and you’re the one who keeps telling me we’re not there anymore. What can I say that will convince you that I’m completely in love with you?"
"I know you love me, Helen." Nikki shook her head. "All I can tell you is that from now on, I'll do my best to really think before I open my mouth. Will you give me the chance to try?"
There was a part of Helen that didn't want to, that tiny part born of pride and weariness and hurt, the part that kept trying to flee whenever things became heavy or difficult. But the larger part that included her heart easily overrode it. She loved Nikki in a way she had never loved anyone before. That was something she couldn’t deny, though she had tried more than once.
"You know I will.” She sighed softly. “You keep forgiving me for walking out, after all."
Nikki's eyes warmed perceptively. "That's because I've finally figured out that you always come back sooner or later." She reached over and touched Helen's knee lightly. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to such a conclusion. It won’t happen again, I promise." She paused. “Are we okay?”
Despite herself, Helen felt her lips curl in a small smile. "Until the next time, at any rate."
Nikki reacted to the smile and dredged up one of her own. "Come here," she said softly.
Helen closed her eyes as she felt the arm slide around her shoulders, pulling her over to the lanky body. Nuzzling into Nikki’s neck, she inhaled her scent, a mixture of shampoo and soap, and realized that she must have recently taken a shower.
"I really do love you, sweetheart," she whispered.
"I love you, too." Nikki brushed her lips over her forehead. "Believe me, Helen, this relationship will be worth all the aggravation in the end."
"I know." She lifted her face and Nikki's mouth covered hers, kissing her with such tenderness and devotion that it made her tremble. Until Nikki, Helen had never believed that a simple kiss could convey so much emotion. Once they parted, she sighed quietly and snuggled into Nikki's body, resting her head on her shoulder.
"So are those pictures of your Mum?" Nikki asked after several moments where they did their best to heal from yet another bump in their road.
For a brief second, Helen felt an incredible sense of violation, as if Nikki had intruded into where she didn't belong, before remembering that she had been the one who told her to go into the top drawer in the first place.
"Yeah," she muttered after a moment. "They're all I have left of her."
Nikki picked up on the tone in her voice and she tightened her embrace, hugging Helen comfortingly. "She was a very beautiful woman. You look a lot like her."
"You think so?"
Helen didn't necessarily believe the assessment but she felt a spurt of pleasure, nonetheless. Isobel Stewart had been all that was good in the world during the first nine years of her daughter's life. She had even made Helen's father bearable, because when he was around his wife, he was more amiable and even a little affectionate. But that ended abruptly when Isobel died, and after that, there was only the stern and unforgiving man who never approved of anything his daughter did, no matter how much she tried to please him, until finally, she just stopped trying.
"And I think,” Nikki added thoughtfully, “if she had the chance to know you now, she'd be so very, very proud."
Helen
abruptly felt
very close to
tears. Despite the fact that Nikki
couldn't know anything of the sort, she really wanted to believe the
words
spoken with such certainty. "I
hope so."
Nikki kissed
her temple with infinite
gentleness and didn't speak any further.
Somehow, she seemed to understand instinctively that Helen
didn’t want
to pursue the conversation beyond what they had. Closing
her eyes, Helen let herself drift away in the warmth of her arms,
surrendering completely to the love she had found there.
Nikki
knew she
really had to be
more careful in the future. No more
jumping to conclusions, she told herself firmly. Especially
jumping to conclusions that ascribed the worst
possible connotation to the situation. If she had to bite her tongue
and count
to ten every time she thought about opening her gob, then, by God, she
would do
it, even if it meant biting her tongue clean
off.
There was a
quiet little rumble in
the general vicinity of her stomach, but she knew it didn’t come from
her. She glanced down at Helen’s face and
saw
that she was looking vaguely embarrassed.
“Hungry?”
“Starved,” Helen muttered. “Serves me right for storming out of here so close to dinner.” She paused. “I reckon we can order some take out. It shouldn’t take that long to get here.” She looked momentarily dismayed. “Will it?”
“Or you can have some of the lasagna I made,” Nikki offered dryly. “There’s plenty.”
Sheepishly, Helen dipped her head. “God, how long was I gone?”
“Long enough for me to finish cleaning out the shed. And bake a lasagna. I haven’t eaten either. It’s still in the oven.”
“Oh.” Helen exhaled and sat up, pulling away as she looked at Nikki solemnly. “You really don’t like it when I take off, do you? Whether I come back or not.”
Nikki knew she had to be very careful with that, especially in light of everything that had already happened that day. “Sometimes it worries me while you’re gone, Helen, and that’s because I don’t know where you are or what’s happening to you. But I’m starting to realize it’s something that you need to do to get your head together, and it doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with me or our relationship.”
“It doesn’t.” Helen faltered and when she spoke again, her voice was very low. Nikki had to strain to hear her. “When I was young, sometimes it was the only way I could live. When Mum was sick…and then afterward…when it was too much, I’d just leave. I'd go for walks in the hills and through the woods. If I stayed, he’d only say mean things…hurtful things.” She glanced up, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “The way I sometimes do.”
Nikki let out the breath she just realized she’d been holding. “Oh. Okay." She hesitated, knowing she had to say something right for a change, and hoping she could find the words. Reaching up, she put her hand on Helen’s shoulder. “I love you. That means that I love you enough to let you go and I love you enough to welcome you back…every time.”
Relief flooded her when Helen closed her eyes and leaned into her once more, seeking the shelter of her embrace. For once, Nikki’s mouth hadn’t betrayed her, and she thought that if she really worked at it, maybe she'd actually become good at this soppy stuff. She squeezed Helen lightly and gave her a nudge. “C’mon, that lasagna should be done by now.”
Out in the kitchen, Nikki put on some oven gloves and pulled out the casserole dish, suddenly realizing how hungry she was when she smelled the delicious aroma of cheese and tomato sauce. A vegetarian for the most part, though she still ate animal products like eggs and cheese, there was no meat in her creation. She hoped Helen wouldn’t miss it.
The table was already set, with candles and a single rose in a vase. Helen, already seated, was regarding the preparations with an expression that Nikki couldn’t quite identify. “You did all this?”Nikki shrugged as she put the dish on a heat mat and cut the lasagna into sections. “We never really celebrated your new job. I wanted to do something special. Especially after I screwed up so badly this afternoon.”
“Nikki,” Helen began, and then paused, obviously searching for the words. “It was my fault. I should have told you that I’d lost the letter to begin with. Then you would have realized what had happened as soon as you found it.” She took a breath. “I didn’t tell you because I was embarrassed that I could have lost something so special.”
“It’s okay, Helen.” Nikki said softly as she took a seat opposite her. “I think it’s because we still don’t talk enough. We assume things and we have fun and we make jokes and we make love, but it’s not enough.” She waited until Helen had taken a portion of lasagna before taking some for herself. “The problem is that we really don’t know each other. We just think we do.” She poked at her lasagna lightly before finally taking a bite. “I know what your favorite book is, but I really don’t know why you like Sophie’s World so much. I know how you like your coffee, but I don’t know how you felt about Zandra’s dying from a brain tumor. And I know that if I kiss that spot on the right side of your neck, it turns you on, but I don’t know why I wake up sometimes in the night and find you crying.”
Helen looked down at her plate, her voice soft and almost shy. “I like Sophie’s World because the first time I read it, so many things suddenly made sense to me. When Zandra died, I was devastated. I couldn’t even go to her memorial service because I would have made a complete fool of myself. We let her down, Nikki. I let her down. If she’d had any kind of competent medical care…” She stopped and took a deep breath. “Sometimes I cry at night because I look at you lying beside me, and I love you so much that I can hardly believe that you’re really there.”
She looked up, her green eyes luminous as they met Nikki’s curious gaze. “I know you’re a vegetarian, but I don’t know if it’s a philosophical objection or just that you don’t like the taste. I know you and Trisha were together for nine years, but from gossip I hear at the club, it seems a lot of women have rather fond memories of you. And I know when you wake up in the night it’s usually because you’ve been having a bad dream, but I don’t know what it’s about because you never say. You just reach out and hold me as if you’re afraid to let go.”
Nikki took another mouthful of lasagna, granting herself time to find the words. “I have a philosophical objection to eating meat,” she said finally. “Do you know how they prepare animals for market?”
Helen lifted a brow. “I do come from a farming village, Nikki.”
“I’m not talking about the ones fresh from the farm, I’m talking about the big business abattoirs.”
“Sorry sweetheart, I just can’t give up my lamb chops no matter what horror story you want to tell me.”
Nikki eyed her with a touch of amusement, quite familiar with that stubborn tone. “Before Trisha, back when I was young and stupid,” she continued, “I was considered something of a ‘player’ in the community. When I started waking up with women and didn’t even know their name, that’s when I knew it was time to settle down. Fortunately, Trish came along at just the right moment.”
“And you were jealous of the few men I’ve had in my life?”
Nikki didn’t dignify that with a response. “As for the last, the dreams are usually about being locked up in a small space and knowing you’re being hurt but unable to do anything about it. Then I wake up, and you’re right there with tears in your eyes and all I can do is hold you because I’m scared of the answer I’d get if I asked.”
Helen was looking at her intently. “Don’t be afraid of asking me anything, Nikki. Ever.”
“Okay.” Somehow, as they talked, they managed to finish dinner. Nikki didn’t even remember what it tasted like. She glanced at the clock ticking quietly on the wall above the sink. “We should turn in. You have to be up early.”
Helen followed her gaze and frowned. “It’s half eight, Nikki. I only need seven hours, and God knows, there’ve been plenty of times I’ve gotten by on less.”
“I was thinking that even if we turn in now, you'll still might have to get by on less.” Nikki offered a lidded look.
"Oh." Helen blinked and then smiled approvingly. “Oh! Good thinking.”
“Besides, I probably won’t see you for a few days.”
That dimmed the smile somewhat, but Helen’s expression remained tender as she regarded Nikki. She returned the look, and without the need to speak any further, they set about preparing for bed. While Nikki did the washing up, which consisted primarily of storing the leftovers in the fridge and putting the dishes in the dishwasher, Helen gathered up her files from the living room and shoved them into her briefcase for the morning. She was already undressed and under the covers when Nikki switched off the light in the hall and joined her in the bedroom.
Nikki paused inside the doorway to look at Helen tucked up in the sheets. She had lit a couple of candles, and the way she looked in their golden glow was well worth taking the time to appreciate it.
“What’re
you waiting
for?” Helen’s voice was husky and a touch
impatient.
Nikki
smiled
and
leaned against the frame of the door.
“Did you know that I’d always watch for you out my cell window
when you
arrived for work. Just seeing you would
be enough to get me through the day.
You’d walk across the yard with your files and your briefcase,
and you
were always carrying a cup of coffee.
For some reason, you always managed to be a few minutes late.” She didn’t mention who
had pointed
out that last to her. The very few good
memories of Larkhall were too outnumbered by the bad to taint one more
by
adding the incidental presence of Fenner to it.
Helen returned the smile and stretched languidly, putting one arm behind her head and not-so-accidentally allowing the sheets to slip down so that her breasts were exposed. Nikki noticed that the dusky rose nipples were already erect, and felt a corresponding rush of moisture between her legs.
Helen’s tongue appeared briefly between her teeth as she looked at Nikki. “Undress for me.”
Nikki tilted her head, intrigued by the expression in Helen’s eyes, and proceeded to do so with all due consideration and care. Each article of clothing that was slowly and deliberately removed seemed to deepen the heat in that molten gaze and by the time Nikki finally slid her black lace panties down her long legs, Helen’s breath was quick and uneven.
Kicking them away, Nikki didn’t wait to see where they landed, walking over to the bed. As soon as she was within reach, Helen stretched out her hand and slipped it between Nikki’s thighs to touch her intimately. Feeling the woman’s gaze on her like a palpable force, Nikki’s legs grew weak, and she twitched helplessly as Helen's fingertips swirled over her.
“God,” she breathed, hips undulating.
“You’re so wet.” The Scottish accent thickened, as it often did when Helen was in the grip of strong emotion.
Nikki closed her eyes, putting a hand on the bedside table to brace herself against the maddening sensation. Already, she was close to coming and she hadn’t yet made it onto the bed. She almost wept when Helen withdrew, but it was only to urge her onto the duvet and down on top of her where she promptly resumed the ardent caresses with her mouth.
Knees to either side of Helen’s head, Nikki pressed against the wall at the head of the bed for support, the smooth surface cold against her stomach and breasts, making her nipples ache. The feel of Helen’s lips and tongue on her was incredible, the pleasurable demand rising in such strong waves that when it finally peaked, she inadvertently smacked her forehead against the plaster while jerking forward in her climactic spasm.
As the delight faded, the pain of the impact took precedence and putting her hands to her head, Nikki groaned and fell sideways onto the bed, sprawling over the duvet. “Ow. Fuck.”
Helen sat up between Nikki's legs, looking at her in dismay. “God, Nikki, are you all right?”
Nikki gritted her teeth. “I hit my head.”
“I wondered what that thump was. I suppose I shouldn’t have moved the tapestry to the other wall, but I didn’t realize we needed cushioning there.” Helen glanced at the wall, then back at Nikki, mouth twitching before finally, she broke down and started to laugh. “Sorry, sweetheart,” she managed between the snorts and giggles. “I’ll move it back.”
“Maybe you should.” Nikki looked at her sourly, but the absurdity of the situation made itself felt, and she started to laugh as well.
Helen’s mirth finally subsided, and she crawled up over Nikki, ruffling her hair gently. Tenderly, she pressed her lips against her forehead. “Better?” she murmured lovingly.
Nikki groaned again. “A little.”
“So, you really do have a headache?”
Helen sounded so disappointed that Nikki immediately wrapped her up in her arms and rolled them over. “Not any more,” she assured her as she looked down into those sparkling eyes. “Besides, haven’t you heard? Sex is supposedly a surefire cure for a headache.”
“Really? Then I prescribe two, and be sure to call me in the morning.”
Nikki kissed her, tasting herself on Helen’s mouth and finding it wonderfully provocative. “Only two?”
“I do have to be up early,” Helen reminded her with mock primness.
Nikki
kissed her
again, deeper this
time. “Don’t worry, darling.
I’ll let you get some sleep
tonight.”
“Eventually.”
Helen
was nervous as
she entered the big brick building that housed the Home Office’s
Correctional
& Rehabilitation Policy Unit. It
had been more difficult for her to find work than she'd anticipated in
the months after leaving Larkhall. Though her
credentials were more than adequate, she did have two incidents on her
record
of quitting without notice. First, by
leaving her position as wing governor without much of an explanation
beyond
'personal reasons' and 'stress', and even worse, this last time by
walking out
abruptly as Governor without any warning at all.
There was no
way of explaining why
she had packed up her office and left without revealing that
she’d
essentially been blackmailed by Jim Fenner into resigning.
She didn't even work out her notice, and
that reflected on her employment record in a way that made other Home
Office
departments somewhat wary of hiring her.
She was actually starting to become worried as the months went
by
and
interviews that initially seemed so promising failed to develop beyond
the
preliminary stage. She did look at a
few positions in the private sector, but she didn't feel she could make
the
same sort of difference there that she could within the government. Besides, there was a sort of security in
being a civil servant that appealed to her. She'd
never admit to it, of course, but it
still had a bearing on her decision to pursue those openings more
avidly than
she had the various security and managerial positions outside the
prison
system.
Though she never let on to Nikki how uneasy she was becoming as her bank account steadily diminished and the bills started to pile up, she was as much relieved as she was pleased when she was finally offered the position in this particular division of the Home Office.
Straightening her shoulders beneath her tailored blazer, she took a firm grip on the leather handle of her briefcase as she strode down the corridor with a confidence she didn’t necessarily feel inside. A uniformed officer was at the desk in the lobby, and he offered her a smile as she presented her identification.
“Three floors up and to the right,” he instructed as he motioned to the lift.
“Thank you.” Several people joined her in the elevator and she felt a comfort in being part of this huge organization. Others may have been disdainful of the bureaucracy contained in these walls … Nikki immediately came to mind … but Helen understood and respected it, even liked it in her own way. It made her feel like an important part of a much larger whole.
Della Hines, who headed up this particular department of the Home Office and had interviewed Helen, was in the outer reception area when she entered. A stocky woman, with graying, curly hair and deep blue eyes, she smiled widely when she spotted the newcomer. “Helen. Welcome to the Unit. Ready to get started?”
Helen returned the smile weakly. “I can’t wait."
“Let me introduce you to the rest of the team.” She nodded at the young woman behind the desk. “You’ve already met Sarah, of course.”
The bubbly blonde, who had been present during Helen’s interview process, offered a vivid and toothy grin. “Good to see you again, Miss Stewart.” She appeared much younger than her twenty-five years, like a teenager rather than the competent administrative assistant Della had assured Helen she was. “It’s great to have you on board.”
Everyone was so bright and enthusiastic in this place, Helen thought glumly. She wondered if it was because Della had made a point of surrounding herself with such people. If so, then she hadn't a clue why she’d been hired. All her youthful chirpiness had long since disappeared while working at Larkhall.
Della gestured to the first door on the left. There were four more radiating from the reception area and a short corridor leading back to the conference room, lunchroom and toilets. Della’s office, where Helen was interviewed, was in the center, directly behind the desk where Sarah reigned. “Of course, you’ll be working closely with Mr. McAllister, our other program coordinator.”
The name was the only warning Helen had, and it hadn’t quite registered before Della knocked lightly at the door and opened it to the small office. The young man behind the desk looked up, his level eyes brightening as he spotted his visitors.
“Helen!”
“Dominic?”
Helen knew her mouth had fallen open and managed to close it before Della glanced at her with a quizzical frown. “I gather you two already know each other?”
Dominic stood up, his square body looking odd in the suit and tie. Helen was far more used to seeing him in a prison officer’s uniform, or in casual clothes from the few times they had been out together socially. The suit made him look like a boy dressing up in his father’s clothes.
“I’m so pleased to hear you’re joining the unit,” he said, reaching out to take her hand, shaking it firmly.
“Uh, thank you." Aware that Della was still staring at them curiously, she took a breath. “Dominic and I worked together at Larkhall.” She looked back at him. “The last I heard, you were still in Greece.”
Dominic suddenly looked a little uncomfortable. He had tendered his resignation to Larkhall over the phone after not returning from holiday. While in Greece, he’d met a woman and apparently fell hard for her…so hard that he chose to remain on the Isle of Crete rather than return to his position on G-Wing.
“It didn’t work out,” he explained shortly, and Helen decided she didn’t want to hear the details. Fortunately, he didn’t appear to want to offer them. Instead, he smiled again and looked at her with a certain familiarity that didn’t exactly bode well. “This is going to be brilliant.”
All Helen could think was that ‘brilliant’ was the absolute last thing Nikki Wade would consider this unexpected development.
“Miss Hines?" Out in the lobby, Sarah held up the phone. "You’re wanted on line 101. It’s Mr. Walter at Correctional Services.”
“All right, I’ll take it in my office.” Della glanced back at Helen. “I’m sorry, I have to take this. Dominic can show you where you’ll be working and introduce you around.”
“No problem.” Dominic sounded thrilled with the opportunity.
Della disappeared, shutting the door behind and leaving Helen alone with him. She composed her features and met his steady gaze.
“How long have you been here?”
“About six months now. I think you’ll like it a lot here, Helen. Della makes sure things get accomplished rather than just talked about.”
“That’s part of why I accepted the position. She has a reputation for stirring things up.”
He scratched his neck and exhaled audibly. “You know, I uh, heard about Nikki Wade’s appeal.”
Well, that hadn’t taken long, she thought. “Yeah, it was really good news.”
“Are you and she still…” He trailed off uncertainly.
“We’re together.” Helen decided that the sooner she got that out of the way, the better.
“Oh.” He looked vaguely disappointed, but it was possible she was imagining it. “That’s great, Helen.”
“Thank you.”
There was a brief bit of awkwardness as they both searched for something to say. Neither had forgotten that Dominic had once fancied Helen, and it colored their relationship in a significant way, not to mention the fact that she had been his boss at Larkhall. Here, they would be on equal footing, and Helen wasn’t sure how that would work. In fact, she hadn’t been in a position without some kind of authority or autonomy for a few years, and that would also take some getting used to. She hadn’t explained to Nikki that this position was a huge step back for her professionally, not necessarily when it came to the salary, which was fairly decent, but certainly in power and prestige, if one could call it that in the prison service. Here, she would be a player, but Della Hines was the main feature.
“I guess I should show you around.” Leading her across the reception area, he knocked on the door that boasted a small plaque. It was only door in the office that had a nameplate and she wondered what that signified.
In the office, a thin, wraithlike man with thinning hair stood up and stretched out his hand as Dominic introduced them. “This is Dr. Paul Davis. He’s the onsite consulting psychologist.”
“Nice to meet you,” Helen said. Glancing around the walls, she noted several certificates and degrees. It seemed a trifle ostentatious.
“Welcome aboard, Helen,” he said somewhat pompously.
Paul’s manner was as fussy as his furnishings, and for some reason, it set Helen a little on edge. She hoped it was only first day jitters. The last thing she needed was to get on the wrong side of one of her colleagues, or for him to get on the wrong side of her. She’d had entirely enough of that at Larkhall.
The other office on this side was locked and belonged to Dr. Joan Moore, another consultant. A medical doctor, she spent only one day a week at the Policies Unit according to Dominic, offering her expertise on the health issues concerning female inmates.
“She’s really keen on improving food and the gyms in prisons,” he told her as he led her to the last office, this one empty and intended for Helen. “She says that what would be spent there would be offset by the saving in medical costs. The inmates wouldn’t get sick so often if they had a proper diet and plenty of exercise.”
Helen glanced at him. “I’d have to agree.”
“Yeah, but…” Dominic trailed off as he opened the door and showed Helen her new workspace. “Here we go. I heard a rumor that we’ll be getting some new computers soon.”
Helen looked around. The walls were painted a rather discolored gray, but they were clean, and the floor had obviously just been polished. The battered and scarred desk was a veteran of many years in Her Majesty’s service, but it had been outfitted with a keyboard tray, and the chair looked as if it had been selected with a token effort at ergonomic application.
Helen eyed the computer, trying not to appear intimidated. She hadn’t used one during her three years at Larkhall since that place still operated primarily in the Victorian era, and heaven only knew how rusty her typing skills were. That was assuming she could even figure out the software advancements in the years since she’d last worked with one. Nikki was using one at the club. Maybe she would share a few pointers.
Dominic must have caught her expression because he smiled faintly. “Don’t worry, Helen. It’s pretty simple what we’re working with. Mostly Excel and PowerPoint…just basic Office stuff and while Windows NT is obsolete now that 2000 is out, it still gets the job done.”
Helen put her briefcase on the desk and tried not to let on that most of what he’d just said was absolute gibberish. “You were about to say something about Dr. Moore’s take on where resources would best be allocated? You don’t agree that diet and exercise are important?”He looked so reluctant that Helen knew something was up. “I’m not sure I should say anything before you meet her. You need to make up your own mind about her presentation at the staff meeting.”
“C’mon, Dominic. I’m counting on you to help me through these early weeks.” She didn’t realize her tone had become somewhat playful until he blushed and looked away. She gave herself a mental rap on the knuckles and reined it in.
“It’s just that… when she talks about the benefits of good health in the inmates, it’s not like she’s talking about people or patients, Helen.”
“No?”
“No, it’s more like…like a vet talking about how best to look after a herd of cows. It’s kind of creepy sometimes.”
Helen blinked. “That’s quite an assessment, Dom.”
“I know. That’s why you should make up your own mind. I could be way off base.” He offered a tentative smile. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gotten it completely wrong.”
She knew exactly what he was referring to, that ill-fated attempt at a kiss way back when, and her subsequent confession of her true feelings for another woman. After another awkward smile, he made his goodbyes and headed back to his office. Finally alone to settle in, Helen looked around and wondered how this was going to work out.
Already, she had encountered an old friend, someone she suspected she wasn’t going to like, and a subtle warning that the fourth team member was a little off the wall. Not to mention the fact that technologically, she was starting in a big hole. And she hadn’t even been here an hour yet. Frowning, she stared at the dark screen of the computer and wondered how she was supposed to turn the bloody thing on.
Thursday
nights at
Chix were
becoming as popular as Fridays, Nikki thought as she looked over the
main floor
from the second level. She wondered if
they should start thinking about closing later on that night as well.
There was no
question that the club
was doing fine, and she knew much of it was due to
Trisha. It was Trisha who'd
had the idea to bring the pub atmosphere into the nightclub setting,
setting up two levels within the building, as well as scheduling
specific events for each night. On Monday, they
pulled out the big screen so the patrons could watch a new
television show that was surprisingly liberal in its depiction of
lesbian
relationships, making the evening a long and rather raucous fan club
meeting. Nikki didn’t know what they’d
do if the show was canceled, but hopefully, there’d be another one to
come
along, and during reruns, Chix offered viewings of lesbian films like
Desert
Hearts and Bound. Tuesday, it was dart
and pool tournaments, with the telly tuned into Sky Sports for the
competitive
minded. On Wednesdays, drinks were
offered two for one, making it a favorite night for the professional
women to
drop in, not to mention those who liked a cheap drunk.
Thursday had become Retro Night, with lots of sixties, seventies, and eighties music and an atmosphere that appealed to an older crowd of lesbians in their late thirties, forties and fifties. Nikki enjoyed talking to these women, though some of them occasionally regaled her with stories about being gay in those early decades that made her glad she was a member of a slightly younger generation.
Down on