This
is the third story for Bad Girls that I've written in what I've decided
to call the After Larkhall series. It is the sequel
to Dead Slow and Slow
& Steady and while it's not entirely
necessary that you read those first, it would probably help a great
deal. This was posted to my site on May 28th, 2005.
Out in the foyer, shoes were carefully removed and stocking covered footsteps padded up the small flight of stairs and across the wooden flooring of the living room, whisper quiet, but still audible to someone who was listening closely. Crossing the hall into the bedroom, the presence paused, and for a moment, there was the rustle of clothing as it was removed, undoubtedly dropped on the chair in the corner. Moving around the foot of the bed to the side closest to the wall, the visitor carefully put down some objects on the bedside table, tiny clicks indicating a watch, a wallet and the metallic clink of keys. Drawing back the covers, a lanky body slipped between the sheets, the mattress dipping lightly as the weight settled against it.
“Hiya, Nikki.” The gentle whisper in the night was flavored liberally by a distinctive Scottish accent.
Nikki started, and then laughed softly. “Christ, I don’t know why I bother trying to be quiet. You’re always awake when I come in.” She reached out an arm and slid it around the shoulders of the woman who’d been lying in bed, drawing her close.
Sighing happily, Helen snuggled against the length of her lover, welcoming her home…though, of course, Nikki didn’t quite consider it home. Not yet, at least. For her, she was just ‘staying over’; traveling to South London from the nightclub she owned and the flat she lived in overhead. She couldn’t do it on the weekends, where managing Chix on Friday and Saturday kept her at the club until four or five in the morning. But through the week, when closing only took an hour and she was able to leave by one, she made the occasional drive down to Helen’s flat to spend the rest of the night with her.
Burrowing into the warm hollow of Nikki’s neck and shoulder, Helen inhaled her scent. Nikki must have stopped by her flat to shower and change before coming over since the thick odor of cigarette smoke and liquor was no longer present, for which Helen was suitably grateful. Kissing her soft throat lovingly, Helen nibbled gently along the pulse point, delighting in the smooth skin.
Nikki quivered at the touch and made a small groan, midway between regret and delight. “You have to be up at six, darling."
Helen didn’t need the reminder, extremely conscious of the fact that their jobs prevented them from seeing each other as much as they would like and hating it thoroughly. But she hadn’t seen Nikki since Monday morning, and she certainly wasn’t about to waste the opportunity.
It was ironic in a way. For the first three years of their relationship, they were able to see each other frequently. They just weren’t allowed to touch. Helen Stewart had worked in the correctional system as a wing governor for HMP Larkhall, a women’s prison in south London. Nikki Wade had been incarcerated for murdering a police officer who had been trying to rape her girlfriend. Despite the fact it broke all the rules, not to mention shattering Helen’s fond misassumption of heterosexuality, the two women fell in love. A great many trials and tribulations tested their commitment to each other, but in the end, Nikki was freed on an appeal that reduced her sentence to manslaughter with time served. Finally, they were able to be together.
Helen kissed a line along Nikki’s jaw before seeking out her lips and sinking into a passionate, open-mouthed kiss that sent desire raging through her. Drawing her hand up from Nikki’s belly, she cupped the small breast, feeling the nipple harden sweetly against her palm. Nikki moaned and shifted, turning more toward Helen, pressing against her as her hands traced out familiar patterns of sensation on her body.
Reaching down, Helen gripped Nikki’s thigh, pulling it up over her hip. Spreading her own legs, she moaned as she felt Nikki’s fingertips on her, stroking her wetness lightly, teasingly. She raked her fingers through the thin triangle, and then eased between puffy lips to the nodule already swollen with need.
“Hmmm, I believe you were thinking about this on the way over,” she murmured as moisture soaked her hand.
“God, I’m always thinking of this,” Nikki muttered back, “And of you.”
“Then why did you wait until tonight to come over?” Helen tried not to sound petulant, especially since Nikki was doing such wonderful things to her, making it difficult to concentrate on the conversation.
“Monday was a bitch, and the toilets backed up. I told you that on the phone. I wasn’t off until two.” Nikki explained, her voice husky in her ear. “Tuesday night, there was a fight in the pool room.” She paused briefly as Helen stroked firmly, swirling back and forth over the firm little clit with maddening pressure. Her voice was very unsteady as she added, “We had to have the police by.”
“Oh, God, Nikki!” The exclamation wasn’t so much an acknowledgment of what Nikki had said as it was approval for the long, lovely fingers that had just entered her. Nikki had respectably large hands for a woman, and there was no question she could reach deep when she wanted to.
Nikki laughed low, obviously aware of what Helen was really responding to as the rest of the conversation deteriorated into low murmurs of appreciation, whispered instructions, and progressively more vigorous sounds of enjoyment. Helen’s left hand gripped the back of Nikki’s head, tangled in the short dark hair, doing her best not to pull on it as she gasped desperately for air. Her right hand fondled with increasing firmness and intensity as Nikki responded in kind, stroking forcefully. Perspiration bathed their skin as they shuddered and trembled against each other, gripped in a mutual passion that built with what seemed like agonizing slowness. Then, with a final, quaking breath, Helen arched against Nikki as climax rippled through her, pulsating about the fingers buried deep inside. Even as she did, she was aware of Nikki’s helpless cry in her ear, of her beloved form shaking helplessly in its own release.
Slowly, slowly, they relaxed against each other, trying to catch their breaths and wrapped up in a mutual glow of pleasure and satisfaction. Withdrawing, hands offered calming caresses over inflamed skin, soothing now, comforting as they settled into a warm embrace. Helen spread her fingers over the small of Nikki’s back, pulling her close with one hand as she stroked the back of her neck lightly with the other.
“That was wonderful, sweetheart,” she whispered.
“Quite nice,” Nikki agreed readily. She nuzzled Helen’s hair, returned to its natural chestnut color after two years of flirting with blonde highlights. “I’ve missed you, darling.”
Helen swallowed back the first thing that popped into head. It would do no good to demand Nikki move in yet again, and ruin what was a perfectly lovely moment. “I’ve missed you, too,” she said instead.
Nikki nibbled her ear, and then drew back so that she could taste her. Helen lost herself in the kiss, tender and devoted, conveying a wealth of emotion in the simple touch of lips. She sighed happily as she settled into the woman’s arms, drowsiness stealing over her on kitten feet.
“I have some good news,” Nikki said.
“Yeah?”
“Our offer’s been accepted. The café’s ours.”
Jolted awake, Helen tried to see Nikki’s face in the dim illumination of the streetlight shimmering through the bedroom window. “That’s brilliant news.”
“Well, we’ll see how it goes.” But Helen could see the glint of teeth from Nikki’s smile and she knew that she was just as pleased.
For the past month, Nikki and her business partner/ex-girlfriend, Trisha, had been trying to purchase the small café just down the street from their nightclub. They wanted the building as well, and though the owner had been sticky about giving it up, it appeared he had finally given in, no doubt aided by the fact his gambling debts were steadily accumulating interest even as he negotiated. Nikki planned to turn the dingy cafe into a chic little bistro catering to the breakfast and lunch crowd from the various businesses in the area. The primary advantage to the whole deal, as far as Helen was concerned, was that Nikki would no longer be working nights.
“When will you start renovations?”
“We take possession next week.” Nikki hesitated. “It’s going to take a lot of work, darling. A lot of long hours.”
“They still won’t be as long as what you’re working now.”
Nikki made a rueful sound. “I don’t work long hours at the club, Helen. I just work incompatible hours to yours.”
Employed at the Home Office’s Correctional & Rehabilitation Policy Unit, Helen worked eight to five, Monday to Friday. ‘Incompatible’ was a somewhat insufficient assessment of a togetherness that was limited to Sundays and the occasional morning or late night.
“This will be better,” Helen insisted.
“I know.” Nikki kissed her lightly and pulled her close as they settled down against the pillows. “C’mon, you need your sleep.”
Helen laughed. “I’m too excited to sleep, now.”
She rested her hand on Nikki’s stomach, enjoying the play of smoothly defined muscle beneath the soft skin. Since her release from prison, Nikki maintained a fitness routine that included workouts at the gym every second day. Tall and slender, she ate healthy meals and had even given up smoking. Compared to her, Helen knew she was rather soft and well rounded, but fortunately, Nikki seemed to like the armful she made.
“You said you had the police over?”
“Yeah, a couple of patrons became a little forceful in demanding their turn at the table, and the ones already playing objected strenuously. Lydia was about to break them up when one of the daft cows pulled a knife. We stood back and let her wave it around while Trisha called the cops.”
“Any trouble there?” Helen asked cautiously.
Nikki was silent for a moment. “You mean, were the officers who showed up aware of the club’s history? Yeah, they were being a bit nippy, but fortunately, Claire stepped in and reminded them of the law they’re supposed to uphold.”
Nikki had tensed a little, belying the lightness of her words. Despite the provocation, the fact she’d taken a life would forever stain her soul. Helen kissed her cheek and hugged her until the stiffness in her body eased.
“What was Claire doing there?”
“I don’t know. Have you talked to her lately?”
Helen pursed her lips. “Work’s keeping us both busy. At least, I know I’m busy, and whenever I try to set up dinner or lunch, Claire begs off with the same excuse.”
Nikki’s fingertips stroked Helen’s arm lightly, making the hairs stand on end. “You think she’s avoiding you?”
“I don’t know. You see her more than I do.”
“She doesn’t really talk to me. She just shows up at the club every now and again. She speaks to Trisha, but Trisha doesn’t share with me.”
“I’ve even called Heather,” Helen admitted, referring to her friend’s long-term partner. “But I only get the machine and she never returns my calls.”
“That’s because she’s in the States. That much, I do know.”
Helen lifted her head from where it rested on Nikki’s shoulder. “What?”
“She went on holiday to California a couple of months ago.”
“Without Claire?”
“Apparently.”
“And she hasn’t come back yet?”
“Apparently not.”
“Claire’s my best friend. Why do I not know this?”
“I don’t know. What do you and Claire talk about when you do get together?”
Helen felt embarrassed. “My love life, mostly,” she admitted reluctantly. “Stuff like how much it aggravated me that you insisted on dating forever before we could sleep together.”
“Two weeks!” Nikki protested. “We dated for two whole weeks before you managed to have your way with me.”
Helen chose to overlook that. “Then we talk about how much I love you and how much I miss you because of work.” She paused, dismayed at herself. “God, what a horrid friend I am. Why wouldn’t she tell me something was going on?”
“Is she the sort to confide?”
Helen thought about it. “Not really. Maybe it’s because she’s a solicitor and used to keeping things to herself, but yeah, even in university, it was like pulling teeth to get her to say what’s on her mind. Still, I know that about her, and if I’d been paying the slightest bit of attention, I would have sussed it out.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Helen,” Nikki comforted her. “Now that you know something’s up, you can go after it with the same bulldog determination that you do everything else.”
Helen absorbed that. “Did you just call me a dog?”
“It was a compliment.”
“It didn’t sound like one.”
Nikki laughed and wrapped her up in her arms. “Do you want to fight, Miss Stewart, or do you want to make love again, since you’re obviously not going back to sleep.”
Helen pretended to consider that. Nikki squeezed her warningly and she laughed. “Make love,” she decided. “We still have some catching up to do.”
“This is your baby all the way, ‘Nik. There’s no way I’ll be able to manage the club and help you out at the same time.” Trisha looked over the dingy café they had pursued so avidly, her expression one of slight skepticism now that they had it. “Not beyond offering advice now and again.”
Nikki glanced at the woman with whom she’d shared so much in her life. They’d had nine years as a couple, and if that passionate love had faded into their current friendship, then there was still something to be said for that. Solidly built, with level blue eyes and thick blonde hair that curled slightly at her collar, Trisha had gone out of her way to help Nikki since her release from prison, to the point of purchasing half this café for no other reason than because Nikki wanted and needed daytime hours in order to maintain a healthy relationship with Helen. She was a smart businesswoman; one who’d almost single-handedly turned Chix into the hottest lesbian nightclub in London while Nikki was in Larkhall, yet she had still taken this risk. She claimed it was because she didn’t want to have to buy Nikki out, or bring in a stranger to take over the other half of the club, but Nikki sometimes wondered if it was really because she didn’t want to let go. Perhaps she thought there was still a chance for them, that Helen was only a phase and eventually, they’d have another shot at a romantic relationship. Remaining business partners was a way to keep her hand in.
“Have you been upstairs?”
Nikki made a face. That was where the previous owner had lived, and she wasn’t looking forward to seeing what was left behind. They had, of course, gone over the building with a chartered surveyor to check it structurally before buying it, but that hadn’t required them to look too closely at the flat. It was a good size, Nikki remembered, but the rest of her memory consisted of greasy furniture, dirty clothes and miscellaneous scrap that he’d been collecting.
“I’ve been avoiding it. He was a bit disgusting, wasn’t he?”
Trisha laughed. “Well, no time like the present. Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”
The building was four stories in total, with the café taking up the entire main floor. The second floor was given over to warehouse space, with canned goods and various boxes stored away amid the castoff ancient cooking equipment.
“Going to have to check through that,” Trisha said professionally. “God knows how long the stuff has been there. We’ll probably have to chuck the lot.”
“Probably.” Nikki ascended the second flight of stairs, pausing on the landing in front of the scarred oak door. “Got the key?”
“Right here.” Trisha fumbled at the lock before she finally managed to push open the door. The air inside was stale with old cigarette smoke and decades of greasy food. “Well, he took all the furniture. And everything else that wasn’t nailed down.”
“Good. I didn’t want to pay to have it carted off.”
Wrinkling her nose as she went into the emptied flat, Nikki peered at the peeling wallpaper and the water stains that remained in the kitchen. They’d checked over the pipes and found them to be acceptable, but it was clear that sometime in the past, there had been a significant leak. It was probable that the sink along with all the cabinetry would have to be ripped out and redone.
There was only one bedroom, but it was quite large, and the bathroom located right next to it wasn’t a bad size either, although the toilet, sink and bathtub looked rather small against the discolored walls. The fixtures were old and streaked with lime deposits, as well as other stains that Nikki didn’t care to examine too closely.
“The floor’s okay,” Trisha noted, kneeling as she examined it. She rapped it with her knuckles. “Solid hardwood. About fifty years of dirt on it but I bet it would clean up really well.”
Nikki returned to the living room and looked at the windows that lined one wall. They were streaked with grime but were a nice size and looked out onto the street below. It was an eastern exposure, and in the winter, the sunlight they allowed would be appealing. Forcing herself to ignore the neglect, she tried to see it for what it could be. “You know, Trish, this isn’t as bad as it looks.”
Trisha nodded soberly. “You’re right, ‘Nik. I don’t think he knew what he had here. This is really spacious. Any other building would have this cut up into two flats.”
Nikki thought of the tiny spaces she had lived in over the years. “More like three or four.”
“And there’s still the upstairs.” Trisha started up the staircase that creaked and groaned but remained solid.
The fourth floor was only half there, leaving the other half as a flat roof. The rooms up here had been used as attic storage, but Nikki could easily visualize this being turned into a rather nice loft space with a guest bedroom and bath.
Trisha forced open the door leading to the lower roof, stepping gingerly about the piles of scrap. The high, windowless walls of the connecting buildings on either side rose to close it in, but a short, half wall on the far end left it open, like a large balcony. A rusting refrigerator lay on its side, while the rotted frames of old sofas and bent bicycle wheels were scattered amid other unidentifiable debris. Nikki followed Trisha, shaking her head over the fact that anyone could live like this. The neighborhood had been pretty run down when she and Trisha first opened up their club, but they were part of the first wave of young, urban professionals who had discovered this part of the city’s relatively cheap real estate, intent on revitalizing it as had happened in other parts of London. Now it was becoming a fairly upscale district, with this building being one of the last reminders of what the area had looked like a decade before.
Trisha finally made it to the far wall, peering over it curiously. Nikki joined her, looking down at the alley below where dumpsters huddled against the walls. To her surprise, the alley bordered the back fence of a small, green park that hosted a kids' playground full of young mothers and their offspring.
“Oh, ‘Nik, we didn’t even notice this.” Trisha said in astonishment. “All we did was check to see if the roof was solid and if there was any indication of leakage below.” She turned to look at her. “This would make such an incredible rooftop garden. The sun sets right over that park.”
“I think we got a steal,” Nikki agreed soberly. “Toss a few quid into this, and it’ll be posh.” A smile slowly spread across her face. “Really posh, Trish.”
Trisha eyed Nikki narrowly. She was quite familiar with that expression. “What are you thinking?”
“Helen’s been on me constantly about moving in with her, and she’s got a good point about the flat over the club being so tiny. But if I have this place done over, this is the best place to live. She’s only ten minutes away from work here. A few mornings without having to fight traffic all the way from South London, and I’ll have her convinced.”
Trisha laughed. “Is her place that bad?”
Nikki shook her head. “It’s not about that, Trish. I like her place, mostly because of the garden, but it’s her place. No matter how welcome she makes me, I’ll always be on her territory. But if I bring her in here at the same time I move in, then it’s like we’re both starting from scratch.”
“Well, you’d best clean it up a little before you show it to her. She might be able to visualize how the downstairs will look with a little fixing up, but this area is nothing but a scrapyard at the moment.”
“Good idea. Maybe I should even wait until I have some designers in, get a few ideas on what can be done with it once the café is finished.”
“You know, you still own half the house," Trisha offered. "Did you want to do something about that?”
Nikki frowned, realizing she’d forgotten that Trisha still lived in the house they’d bought only a short time before Nikki had been arrested. She hadn’t really missed it in Larkhall because she hadn’t lived in it very long. It hadn’t quite felt like a home to her. The tiny flat where she and Trisha had lived in the early years had far fonder memories, as did the other, larger flats they had shared later.
“I’d like to buy out your half," Trisha continued. "I should have done it before now but…well, there wasn’t any reason to.”
Nikki nodded, surprised but pleased. “That’ll actually help out a lot. That way, I can put that money into the flat instead of waiting to see how much is left over after the café is done.”
“Property values in the area have increased significantly---” Trisha began.
“Pay me what I paid back then,” Nikki interrupted immediately. “I was only there six months, and frankly, if property values increased, it was because you picked out the area. You always had a better head for business than I did.”
“And you have all the charm. I nail their financial weak spot and you convince them we’re doing them a favor by exploiting it. We make a good team, ‘Nik.”
“So I’m just the pretty face?”
“Yep, and I’m the brains.” Trisha threw an elbow into her ribs. “I thought you already knew that.”
Leaning her forearms on the top of the cement wall, Nikki glanced over at her. “Can I ask you a question, Trish?”
Trisha instantly looked wary, recognizing the tone in Nikki’s voice as the one she used whenever she was about to explore an area she wasn’t sure she was supposed to go. “I might not answer.”
“Fair enough.” Nikki contemplated the tiny figures of the kids playing in the park. “Have we put Claire Walker under retainer?”
Trisha’s response was uncharacteristically reserved. “Why would you ask that?”
“Because she’s at the club two or three nights a week, and you two seem to spend a lot of time talking.” Nikki exhaled slowly. “Or are you talking about legal matters?”
“I told you, we became friends while we were working on your appeal.”
“Friends, is it?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Nikki shook her head. “Just wondering.”
“Well stop wondering,” Trisha said in an irrefutable tone. “She’s going through a bit of a rough time at the moment. I’m just offering a shoulder, you know?”
“Does this ‘rough time’ include breaking up with her girlfriend?”
Trisha glanced at her quickly, then just as quickly, looked away. “It looks like it,” she admitted reluctantly. “I don’t think Heather’s coming back from California. In fact, I think she’s met someone over there.”
“So Claire’s seriously on the rebound right now.”
Trisha fixed her with a steady look. A soft breeze sent a strand of flaxen hair across her serious features. “I’m not stupid, ‘Nik. Claire and I are close, but that’s it. I know better than to get involved with someone who’s struggling out of a long term relationship.”
“But does Claire know it?”
“Where are you going with this?”
Nikki spread out her hands. “Nowhere in particular. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Why don’t you let me worry about that? You need to concentrate on your own relationship. Or are you so sure Helen’s going to want to live here?”
Nikki looked away, unable to meet that level glare. “Shit.”
Trisha abruptly laughed. “That’s about what I thought.” She glanced at her watch. “C’mon. It’s time to get to the club. We open in an hour.”
Linking her arm in Nikki’s, she pulled her away from the wall and they picked their way back to the door. Just before she closed it and made sure it was secure, Nikki took another glance at the roof and for an instant, saw not the scrap scattered over it, but rather a profusion of plants and garden furniture, arranged to take advantage of the setting sun.
Yep, she thought, this would be the main selling point. Clean this up first, transform it into what she knew it could be, and then bring Helen up here.
She wouldn’t be able to resist.
Tired of the multitude of excuses she’d received over the past week, Helen showed up at Claire’s office at ten to five. She knew Claire wasn’t in court, and she’d left work early to make sure she would be at the solicitor’s office before she finished for the day. Taking a seat out in the waiting area, she smiled at Claire’s secretary, but didn’t ask to be announced. In fact, she put her fingers up to her lips to indicate that Claire shouldn't be warned, and after a single odd look in her direction, the receptionist complied.
The willowy Claire hesitated in her office doorway when she saw Helen waiting for her, an undecipherable look on her face before she forced a smile and walked over to her. "Helen, what are you doing here?" She bussed her cheek lightly, a mere brush of lips. If Helen hadn't seen the expression before it was covered over, she might think her friend was actually glad to see her.
"I'm here to take you to dinner," Helen said in an irrefutable tone, and when Claire opened her mouth, undoubtedly to offer another excuse, she put up her finger, forestalling it. "And I won't take no for an answer."
Claire dipped her head, evaluating Helen for a moment, and then obviously realized there was no way out. She didn't quite sigh, but it was close, nor did she speak much as they walked to a restaurant not far from her office. Helen kept her part of the conversation light, ignoring the monosyllables she recieved in response.
"I wondered when you'd corner me," Claire said finally after they'd settled at their table and the waiter had taken their order.
"I shouldn't have had to," Helen allowed, a bit shamefully. "I know I've been a little wrapped up in myself lately, but I should have realized something was going on with you."
Claire sipped her ice water. "Did Nikki tell you?"
"She said you'd been popping by the club a lot. She also said that you'd seemed upset a couple of times while you were talking to Trisha, but she didn't have any details."
Claire looked vaguely surprised. "Trisha didn't tell her what was going on?"
"Did you ask her not to?"
"I may have. I don't know. I can't remember."
Helen and Trisha weren't exactly the best of friends but they'd developed a mutual respect in the months since Nikki's release. "If you'd asked her not to say anything, then Trisha wouldn't, not even to Nikki. All Nikki knows is that Heather's in America." Helen fixed Claire with a significant look. "But that's more than I knew. What the hell is she doing there and why didn't you tell me she was going?"
Claire developed an intense fascination with the tabletop. "She wanted to explore a few options in the States. One of the options has apparently become another woman."
Saddened, Helen reached over to touch her arm. "Ah, Claire." She searched for something to say. "What happened?"
"She was tired of her job. Said she'd gone as far as she could in her firm and wanted some new challenges. When she told me she wanted to go to California, I asked her to wait a little while, until I could take some time off to go with her."
Helen frowned. "She refused?"
"Not at first, but I had cases and I couldn't put them back and, well...eventually she got tired of waiting." Claire looked up as the waiter set their meals down on the table, waiting until he was gone before continuing. "I was going to join her last month, but it was clear through our phone calls that she really didn't want me to make the effort. Then she was offered a job, and she told me she was taking it. This woman she met arranged it for her."
Claire didn't seem as upset as Helen would have expected. Perhaps she had already talked through most of it with Trisha. If that was the case, Helen wondered why Claire had chosen her rather than her friend of several years. Had she been that absorbed in what was going on with Nikki?
"I can't believe this," she said quietly. "You two have been together for so long, ever since I've known you."
"Well, it had become predicatable some time ago."
"You seem rather calm about it."
Claire managed a wan smile. "I've pretty much done my crying. There aren't any tears left."
"Not with me, you haven't."
Claire looked uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Helen, but you were so happy with Nikki...I didn't want to bring you down with my problems."
"Claire, you're my friend. I want to know what's going on with you." Helen leaned back in her chair, tucking her hair behind her right ear in an agitated gesture she didn't even know she had. "Or did you just prefer talking to Trisha?"
"What's
that
supposed to mean?" There was suddenly an edge in Claire's normally
gentle tones.
"I heard you and Trisha became pretty close while you were working on Nikki's appeal."
Claire's sandy brows drew together almost angrily. "Are you accusing me of something?"
Helen put out a placating hand, realizing she hadn't phrased that quite in manner she wanted, though it was possible that Claire was overreacting the slightest bit. Maybe Heather wasn't the only one who'd met someone new in the last little while. "I'm sorry, that's not what I meant." Helen took a couple of bites of her curry to give them both a moment to cool down. "I guess I was unhappy that you'd gone to Trisha and not to me about this. Have I let our friendship slide that much?""Maybe we both have." Claire sighed. "I'm sorry. I should have at least told you that Heather and I were having problems."
"Is there no hope at all?"
Claire shook her head. "All that's left now is dividing up fifteen years of living together. At least the marriage laws haven't come in yet. We won't have to get a divorce."
"Jesus. Well, everyone else I know from university has been divorced. I had higher hopes for you. At least, your relationship lasted the longest."
"And fortunately, there are no children to consider."
Helen didn't know if it was fortunate or not. Maybe children would have bound them together more firmly, or caused them to try harder. On the other hand, it certainly hadn't helped any of the heterosexual couples she knew, and frequently, the children became nothing more than a bone of contention, along with the house, the car and all the other assets.
"God, does no one stay together anymore?" She hadn't intended to say it out loud, but when she saw Claire flinch, she realized she had. "Sorry."
"I understand. You're still in the honeymoon phase with Nikki. To encounter something like this is scary, especially after everything you two have already been through. That's the other reason I didn't confide in you. Why shake your confidence in true love." The last was said a bit sardonically, and Helen favored her with a dark look.
"I'm not a child, Claire. I don't need to be protected from knowing the truth about grown up relationships."
"Well, maybe you and Nikki will beat the odds."
Helen suddenly felt depressed. "Yeah, what are they now? Averaging fifty percent? Shit, I need a drink."
"I do, too. Want to go to the club?"
"What, Chix?"
"At least we know if we get pissed there, it'll be completely safe."
Helen thought about it a moment. "Okay, but isn't Thursday night Retro or something?"
"Hate to break this to you, Helen, but so are we, apparently."
Helen was horrified as she dug out her credit card to pay the bill. "'Oi, don’t tell me that!"
There was a queue at the door when Helen drove past. Parking her Peugeot 306 between Nikki's Porsche Boxster and Trisha’s BMW in the private car park midway between the club and the cafe, she and Claire got out of the car. Claire paused to look at the sleek vehicles belonging to the club owners, and then at Helen’s very practical sedan. Helen caught her expression and frowned at her.
“What?”
“Well, if there’re any car thieves out tonight, we know which one will still be here in the morning.”
“Shut up.”
Claire laughed as they walked to the club. Lydia saw them approach and the large, snowy haired bouncer offered a smile and a nod. Reaching down to unhook the red barrier rope, she granted the two women immediate entrance. Helen was conscious of the envious looks from the women waiting in line, and she found it rather gratifying in an odd sort of way. She had never been offered such preferential treatment at a nightclub before. She supposed sleeping with one of the owners did have its perks.Inside, she worked her way through the crowd to the bar. One of the staff pointed toward the rear of the club. “Nikki’s in the office,” she shouted over the noise. She glanced past Helen to Claire. “So's Trisha.”
Helen shot a look at Claire, saw her face color slightly, and knew there was something more going on there than her friend was letting on. Biting back the comment that leapt to her tongue, she wound her way through the masses thronging the bar until she reached the door at the back. Helen knocked lightly on it, and without waiting, opened it.
Trisha was behind the desk, typing rapidly on the keyboard of the computer as she stared intently at the screen. Nikki was slouched in the chair opposite her, feet up on the desk, playing with a Nerf basketball that she kept sending through the hoop tacked up on the wall.
Helen shook her head. “What is it you do again to get paid all that money?”
Nikki, whose face had lit up upon seeing Helen, grinned cheekily. “I’m the ‘face’ of Chix. I charm the patrons.”
“Ah, I see.” Helen smiled and bent over, kissing her lightly. But she was not so focused on her girlfriend that she didn’t see how Trisha had immediately risen from her chair and was grinning happily at Claire, nor did she miss her pleased look in return as they exchanged murmured greetings.
Nikki tilted her head. “What brings you by?”
“A girl’s night out. Claire and I are going to get pissed.”
“Huh?”
“It’s not the sort of thing that can be planned, Nikki,” Helen explained earnestly. “It just happens when it happens.”
“And you decided to do it here?” Trisha regarded Claire with amusement.
“You’re supposed to keep us from doing anything stupid.”
Nikki glanced at them both with a certain amount of alarm. “Such as?”
“Oh, dancing on the table, taking off her shirt and waving it about her head, throwing up in her handbag, going home with someone entirely inappropriate…all of which Helen has done at one time or another.”
Helen shot Claire a hard look. “You didn’t need to share that.”
“I didn’t know you were such a wild woman, Miss Stewart.” Nikki actually looked intrigued at the thought.
“That was long ago, during my years at university.”
Claire offered a sly grin. “C’mon Nikki, you know how ministers’ daughters are when they finally cut loose.”
“Actually, I don’t, but I suppose I’ll find out tonight.” Nikki dipped her head at Trisha. “We should be able to find them a table.”
“And keep an eye on them periodically through the night." Trisha smirked. “After all, if they do anything too outrageous, Lydia can always throw them out.”To Nikki’s great astonishment, Helen hadn't been kidding when she said she and Claire were going to get pissed. She honestly thought that meant the two friends would have a couple of drinks, share a few laughs, and then head home early in preparation for work the next day. Instead, the pair of them settled at the table Nikki had commandeered for them on the upper level and started going through Vodka/Red Bulls as if they were lemonade, fueled by reminisces of their time in university and their early years in their respective jobs. Occasionally, Nikki or Trisha would stop by the table and share a drink...though they limited themselves to soda water...where they were regaled with a story or two before returning to work. And the more Claire and Helen drank, the more uninhibited they became.
By the end of the evening, Helen had grabbed Nikki’s ass twice as she passed by and groped one confused but rather gratified young woman who only resembled Nikki from the rear. Helen apologized profusely, if somewhat inarticulately, but the young woman didn’t appear to require it. She left her number written on Helen’s palm before Nikki was able to intervene.
“Jesus, Nikki, this is ridiculous,” Trisha muttered as they stood behind the small bar and regarded the pair laughing uproariously. “They look like they really know what they’re doing. I didn’t know Claire was that much of a drinker.”
“She’s
ordered here
before.”
“Yeah, but she’d only have one or two before she’d start crying.
I’d listen to her, pour some coffee down her throat, then put
her in a
cab or run her home myself.” She
glanced over.
“What about Helen?”
Nikki shrugged, somewhat at a loss. “Honestly, I’ve never seen her drink beyond a glass of wine with dinner once in a while. I knew she probably did go out drinking on occasion, but it’s not like I’ve ever been there to witness it.”
“Well, you’re witnessing it now.” Trisha shook her head, regarding the pair somberly. “There’s no way they’ll be able to go to work tomorrow. They’ll still be drunk come morning.”
“At least Helen waited a couple of months before having to call in sick. Why the hell didn’t they wait until tomorrow night?”
“Fridays are when all the baby dykes come in. Not their scene at all. And Saturday night’s insane. We’d never be able to keep an eye on them. Face it, ‘Nik, we made Thursday night perfect for them.”
“Well, they should have done it last night,” Nikki grumbled. “Then they’d be drinking for half price.”
“Christ, Nikki, you know they’re on the house. You’re not really going to make them pay their tab?”
“I should. That would teach Helen to go get pissed without me.” Her brows drew down. “Why do you suppose they’re getting drunk at all?”
Trisha’s level blue eyes assessed them dispassionately. “My guess would be that Claire finally told Helen what’s going on with Heather, and now, like any good friend, she’s commiserating with her.”
“Ah.” Nikki glanced at the clock. “And just what is the story beyond what you've already told me?”
“It’s over with Heather, and Claire is getting used to being a free woman for the first time in her adult life. I think she’s a little frightened of that.”
“So she needs her friends right now."
“I got the message the first time, ‘Nik,” Trisha said with a hint of exasperation. “You don’t have to keep harping on it.”
Nikki affected an innocent look. “Who, me?”
“Shut up.”
Nikki laughed and glanced at the clock again. “I don’t think I’ll drive Helen home. I’ll just take her upstairs and put her to bed there.”
“Do you suppose she's the sort that should be put to bed in the loo?”
Nikki winced at the thought. “God, I hope not. The last thing I need is to have her be sick in my bed.”
“Better you than me.”
“What about Claire? Going to drive her home?”
Trisha suddenly lost her smile. “And stay with her. She looks like she’s having fun now, but we both know how quick that ends when you go back to an empty flat and remember why it is you needed to be drunk in the first place.”
Nikki started to reply, stopped, and then patted her on the shoulder. “Just be careful, Trish. And not only tonight.”
Trisha looked like she was about to object, but then let out her breath slowly. “I will, ‘Nik.”
“Closing time?” Nikki crossed her arms over her chest.
“Yeah.”
“You want to tell them?”
“Nope.”
“I suppose we can clear out everyone else before we let them know.”
“Might be safer.”
“Could even do all the closing first.”
“Yeah, tell them just before we turn out the lights.”
Nikki laughed and with a final exchanged glance of amused resignation, they proceeded with the process of bringing another night at Chix to an end. After saying good-bye to the staff, they made their way back to the upper level where Helen and Claire seemed oblivious to the fact that they were the only ones left. Nikki wondered why they hadn’t noticed the music had shut off and the lights had come up. Could they really be that pissed?
“Sorry, ladies,” Nikki said loudly as she approached the table. “Last call. We’re closed.”
Bewildered, Helen straightened and looked around. “Where’d everyone go?”
“Home,” Nikki told her sternly. “Which is where you’re going. I’m taking you upstairs.”
Helen looked mildly rebellious for a moment before refocusing on Nikki and the knowledge that she was her girlfriend. A large smile spread over her face. “You’re taking me upstairs?”
At least, that’s what Nikki thought she said. Between the slurring and the accent that had shifted to a thick highland brogue, she was only making an approximation of what Helen might have tried to communicate.
Meanwhile, Trisha was urging Claire gently to her feet, and she complied without argument, apparently quite happy to be leaving with her. Nikki put her hands on Helen’s shoulders and got quite close to her face.
“Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
Helen peered owlishly at her and nodded vigorously.
After helping Trisha maneuver Claire down the stairs to the main floor and out the door, Nikki made sure it was locked securely, and then returned to the upper level. Helen was weaving her way toward the staircase, and Nikki got there just in time to prevent her from taking a header down the steps.
“Whoa, I got you,” Nikki said, catching her in her arms. Fortunately, she’d seen what was about to take place and was able to brace herself on the railing. “Let’s go out this way, darling.”
“I’m okay,” Helen muttered.
“Sure you are,” Nikki said agreeably as she managed to turn her around without major injury to either of them. Arm firmly about Helen's waist, she guided her across the empty upper level to the door at the back that led to the stairwell. Helen was fairly cooperative as these things went. She obviously wanted to go with Nikki wherever she planned to take her. The problem was that she kept trying to undress Nikki as they walked.
“Helen!”
Nikki shifted away from the groping hand that had managed to insinuate itself between her legs.
Completely unrepentant, Helen leered at her. “C’mon Nikki, make love to me all night long. Just like you promised down the block.”
“First we have to get to bed,” Nikki told her. That little bit of incentive garnered enough cooperation to get them up the stairs to the landing where the door leading to the flat was located. She propped Helen up against the wall as she used her key on the lock. Kicking the door open, she managed to get her hands under Helen’s armpits as she began to sag toward the floor.
“Up we go. Come on, Helen. Give us some help here.” For such a small woman, she was absolute deadweight when she wanted to be.
“Give you something,” Helen promised as she fell into Nikki, nuzzling her neck and reaching behind her to grab her buttocks with surprising strength.
Startled, Nikki muttered a curse and fended her off. She easily recognized this game from her early years of playing the field. Anyone who’d drunk as much as Helen only thought they wanted sex. The second she was lying down, she'd be out like a light. The real trick was to actually get her to the bed before she passed out on the couch or a chair or even the floor.
Inside the tiny bedroom, the queen-sized bed took up most of the space, and for once, Nikki was grateful for it because she was able to propel Helen onto it without too much problem. She wasn’t the slightest bit surprised when Helen started snoring scant seconds after sprawling across the mattress. Without her trying to help, it was a fairly simple matter for Nikki to strip off her clothes and toss the duvet over her.
Breathing heavily, Nikki straightened and raked her fingers through her sweat-soaked hair, leaving it standing on end. “Christ,” she muttered out loud, “I didn’t work this hard digging in the bloody garden at Larkhall.”
Stripping off her clothes, she went into the bathroom where she took a long, hot shower. Wrapped up in a robe, she dug out her mobile phone from her jacket pocket and went out to the living room where she dialed the number of Helen’s office.
She left the message on the answering machine that Helen Stewart was feeling a little ‘under the weather’ and would be unable to make it to work. If they wondered why some other woman was phoning in for her at such an odd time of night, hopefully they would take it as an indication that Helen was so ill that she was up all hours and that she’d needed someone else to take care of calling in. It was even possible that Dominic McAllister, one of Helen’s colleagues at the Policies Unit and someone who’d known Nikki at Larkhall while serving as a prison guard, might recognize her voice and identify her to the others as Helen’s ‘partner’.
Nikki wondered if that would bother him and if she should be as amused at the thought as she was.
In the kitchen area, she surveyed the meager selection and finally settled on the garbage bin, removing the trash already inside and relining it with a new bag. She placed it beside Helen’s side of the bed. Should it become necessary, she thought she’d be able to quickly maneuver Helen’s head over it before she managed to make a mess on the bed. At least, that was the plan.
Slipping into bed next to the unconscious woman, she let out a sigh of relief now that she was horizontal. She was surprised when Helen stirred and rolled over to snuggle up against her side. A little nervous, Nikki looked at her, but when Helen settled down without doing anything untoward, she was able to relax. She did have a momentary qualm about having her so close while in her condition, but in the end, she left her where she was. Helen's body felt good against her and at least, lying on her side had brought an end to the snoring.
Lips curving in a faint smile, Nikki closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Oh,
fuckin' 'ell.
Helen rolled over and immediately regretted it as the room commenced to spinning about. Swallowing hard, she stayed completely still, and after a moment, things settled down somewhat. Slowly, she began to recognize where she was and what had happened. She carefully reached out a hand, groping around to determine that she was completely alone in the bed. She tried very hard not to move her head. Every time she did, her stomach threatened to make a break for it, and it was a tossup as to which orifice it would choose as its primary escape route.
“Are you all right?”
Carefully, Helen shifted her eyes to the doorway to the bedroom.
“Nikki?”
At least that’s what she tried to say. What came out was not unlike the croak of a frog. Nikki tilted her head slightly as she observed her. “You look like shit.”“I feel like shit.”
“Well, vodka and Red Bull will do that to you. Keeps you alert as hell right up until the end.”
“Is that what I was drinking?”
Nikki laughed. Helen wanted to kill her where she stood. She would have, too, if she wasn’t already in the process of expiring.
“What time is it?” Helen didn’t particularly care at this point but she thought she needed to make the effort.
“Past lunch.”
Helen’s stomach lurched. “Please, don’t mention anything to do with…” she trailed off. She couldn’t even say it.
“Food?”
“Jesus Christ, Nikki.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, Nikki leaned against the doorframe, smiling faintly. Dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, the clothes clung to her lanky form with what would have been fascinating snugness had Helen felt the slightest bit human. “I’m not sure if you care or not, but I called you in sick for work.”
Helen shut her eyes. She hadn’t even thought about it until that moment. “This is Friday.”
“Yes, it is.” Nikki’s tone was a trifle sardonic.
“I’m supposed to be at the office.”
“Yes, you are.”
“God.”
Nikki exhaled and made an attempt to look severe but couldn’t quite manage it. “Would you like some something for your head?”
Helen’s gratitude was pathetic. “Do you have anything?”
“Darling, you’re hardly the first person with a hangover I’ve had to deal with.”
Nikki provided some painkillers and, after Helen managed to down an alka seltzer, convinced her to take some tea. The combination made her feel marginally better…better enough, at least, to sit up in the bed as Nikki arranged the pillows for her back.
“I used to be better at this,” Helen muttered as she sipped the hot liquid, grateful for the moisture. She was parched.
“At what?”
“Staying out all hours, drinking. I was always able to drag myself out of bed and go to work the next day.”
Nikki, perched on the side of the bed, offered a smile. “Well, that’s the problem, Helen, it’s like playing a sport. You have to keep in training, and you haven’t been.”
“I reckon.” She paused. “Did I do anything terribly stupid?”
“You don’t remember?”
“It’s kind of a blur,” she admitted sheepishly.
“Well, except for making one young woman’s night by grabbing her arse, you didn’t do much.”
Helen shot her a disbelieving glance. “You’re kidding!”
Nikki reached over, grasped her wrist gently and turned it over to reveal the palm of her hand. There was a smeared phone number scribbled there in blue ink. “She was quite taken with you. Not bad taste for a twenty-two year old.”
“Dear God.” Helen was appalled. “What was I thinking?”
Nikki laughed. “Well, to be honest, you thought it was me walking past, and by the time you realized it was someone who just sort of resembled me, you had your hands full. She really got off on your accent.”
“She was only twenty-two? I thought it was retro night.”
“Some baby dykes like the old disco music.” Nikki leaned over and kissed Helen gently on the temple. “I have to go, darling. I really only stopped by to see if you were still breathing. I need to get back to the café. They’re ripping out the kitchen.”
Helen didn’t want her to leave, but she couldn’t come up with a justifiable reason to keep her from work. It was bad enough that she had missed a day at her own job for a hangover. She honestly couldn’t remember why it had seemed like such a good idea to get pissed the previous night, doubting very much that it had helped Claire at all.
Which reminded her. “What happened to Claire?”
“Trisha took her home. I presume everything went all right. I haven’t seen either of them since.”
“Nikki, do you think…” Helen began, paused as she realized she wasn’t sure how to say it.
“That Trisha and Claire might be headed for something?” Nikki raked her fingers through her hair, leaving it disarrayed. “I don’t know what to tell you, Helen. Trisha says no, that they’re just friends and she’s not about to get involved with someone who’s fresh out of a long term relationship.”
“Claire got angry when I ventured anywhere near the subject.”
Nikki sighed. “They’ll be shagging each other’s brains out before long, if they're not already.”
“Matter of time,” Helen agreed. They shared a look. “We’ll have to be there to pick up the pieces.”
“Ah, maybe it’ll work out. We did, and let’s face it, we’re as odd a couple as you’ll find.”
“True.”
Nikki ran her knuckles along Helen’s cheek. “Will you be all right?”
Helen nodded gingerly, relieved when it no longer felt as if her head would fall off and roll away. “I’ll be fine.” She smiled wryly. “It’s not my first hangover either.”
Nikki stroked her hair lightly and rose from the bed. “I don’t know how long I’ll be. I might have to work the club tonight, too, depending on how busy it is. Will you stay?”
Helen took another slow swallow of tea. “Sweetheart, I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to. I’m not sure I can walk yet, let alone drive.”
“Fair enough. When you’re up for it, there’s some fodder in the fridge.”
Helen set her back teeth at the thought. “I’ll manage.”
Nikki kissed her again, on the cheek. Helen couldn’t blame her for avoiding her mouth. Despite the tea, she didn’t imagine that she would taste very good at the moment. She set the mug on the bedside table and settled back on the pillows as she listened to Nikki leave, the outer door shutting softly behind her.
Pulling up the duvet, she turned gingerly onto her side, drawing her legs up as she wrapped her arms around a pillow. It smelled of Nikki and she nuzzled into it, finding comfort in the scent. She didn’t feel like sleeping, but she still felt too fragile to move. Contemplating her actions, she wondered what had possessed her to indulge in such idiotic behavior on a weeknight. She must have been afflicted with a temporary bout of insanity. She wasn’t twenty anymore. Hell, she wasn’t even thirty any more. She couldn’t drink that way and expect to bounce back the next day.After a bit, she dozed off, and when she woke, the sun was slanting across the bedroom with that translucent light that heralded dusk. Dredging up some determination, she slipped from the bed and went into the bathroom where she took a long, relaxing shower. Wrapped up in Nikki’s robe, which was far too large for her, she tottered out to the kitchen where she toasted some bread, slapped a little butter on it, and when that stayed down, tried some fruit from the fridge.
Curling up on the battered old sofa, she turned on Nikki’s small television, her head still suffering too much to try reading. She found a movie that didn’t tax her powers of concentration, but did keep her entertained enough to stick with it. When it was over, she had some more tea and toast, took two aspirins and went back to bed.
Nikki woke her about three. Helen heard her in the bathroom, taking a quick shower to wash off the smoke and liquor smell before she came into the bedroom. She smiled when she saw Helen was awake and crawled into bed next to her.
“How are you feeling?”
“Still a bit queasy,” Helen admitted as she settled into Nikki’s warm embrace.
“Did you eat anything?”
“Bit of tea and toast. A little fruit earlier.” Helen nestled her head on Nikki’s shoulder. “How was your night?”
“Busy, but at least tonight, we didn’t have any drunken Scots molesting the girls on their way to the loo.”
“Oh, shut up.”
Nikki made a sound of amusement. “Trisha says that Claire isn’t feeling much better than you are. In fact, she may be a little worse. Spent most of the morning with her head in the bog.”
“Ugh.” Helen swallowed hard and resolved not to think about it. “Well, I don’t think either of us will be doing this again any time soon.”
“No? That’s probably wise.”
“Thank you for looking after me.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Nikki?”
“Yeah?”
“What are you like when you’re drunk?”
Nikki smiled, obviously thinking about that for a moment. “I don’t drink a lot, Helen. Probably comes from running a bar and dealing with people who do on a recurring basis, but when I let loose, I’m generally a happy drunk. I suppose I get more affectionate…I’m always hugging and kissing people, complete strangers even.”
“Yeah?” Helen tightened the arm she had wrapped around Nikki’s stomach, hugging her gently. “Well, we can’t have that, can we? No more drinking for you.”
Nikki laughed quietly. “You know, for someone who constantly complained about my being jealous, you’ve a rather generous streak of it, yourself.”
Helen couldn’t deny it, as much as she wanted to. “Back in Larkhall, I didn’t have any competition. Out here, they’re falling out of the trees to be with you. I’ve seen how the women look at you in the club.”
Nikki kissed her on the forehead. “You’re the only one I want to be with, Helen, even if you do get pissed on occasion and feel up the birds.”
“God, you’re not going to let that go, are you?”
“Not for a while. In fact, that one will get hauled out whenever you decide to get a little bossy.”
Helen wasn't exactly pleased at the prospect.
“So…” Nikki nuzzled her lightly. “You wanna shag?”
“You want me to be sick on you?”
“I’ll take that as a no. Odd, you were a lot more romantic last night…at least, until you passed out.”
“I
reckon I’ll have to owe you.”
Helen snuggled closer and kissed her neck. “Both
for last night, and tonight.” She tangled
her leg with Nikki’s, exhaling gustily. “Goodnight,
sweetheart.”
“G’night,
darling.”
She stopped when she saw Nikki, a huge smile lighting up her face. “What are you doing here?”
“Had some things to do this morning,” Nikki said casually. “Dropped by to see if you wanted to come.”
Helen padded over to the sofa and put her hands on Nikki’s shoulders, pushing her back against the cushions as she straddled her. “I always want to come,” she murmured as she kissed her, tasting sourly of sleep. “You know that.”
Nikki ignored both the pun and the flavor of her girlfriend, neither of which were particularly charming this time of the morning. “Steady on, lass,” she told her with a smile as Helen settled her body onto hers, arms wrapped around her neck. “If there was time for that, I would have gone in and woke you as soon as I got here.”
Helen sighed and rested her forehead against Nikki’s. “When was that?”
“About twenty minutes ago. I haven’t been to bed yet.”
“No time like the present,” Helen muttered happily, unbuttoning Nikki’s shirt and slipping her hand beneath to fondle her breast through her bra.
Nikki inhaled deeply, sorely tempted but eventually remembered her priorities. “Not before I run my errands,” she told her firmly as she grasped her wrist, pulling away from the delightful caress “Do you want to come with me or not?
Apparently realizing Nikki was serious about not spending Saturday morning in bed, Helen didn’t exactly pout, but she wasn’t especially enthusiastic about it either. “What errands?”
“I have to go to a garden center. I plan to have a lot of plants in the café and I want to get the list in so that they’re ready for the opening.” What she didn’t add was that she also had to arrange for several large potted bushes and plants to be delivered for the rooftop garden. And while she was there, she figured she’d take care of ordering some bushes she wanted to add to Helen’s back garden as well. She squeezed Helen lightly. “Do you want to get dressed, or shall I go without you?”
Helen sighed loudly. “Give me a few minutes. Do I have time for breakfast?”
“We’ll stop on the way.”
Helen made a sound indicating her lack of enjoyment over all this early morning activity, but she kissed Nikki once more and slid off her lap, shuffling off to the bedroom. Nikki smiled and picked up her tube as the she heard the sound of the shower. Going outside to the front pavement where her car was parked, she tossed the tube in behind the seat and slipped on her sunglasses, enjoying the sunshine as she leaned against the fender and waited for Helen. A little silver Boxster convertible, Nikki’s car was completely impractical, but she loved it anyway. Her old Porsche had been sitting in storage for five years and after her appeal; she had immediately traded it in for the newest model.
Helen paused briefly on the top landing when she saw Nikki, almost as if she didn’t recognize her standing there. When she finished descending the stairs, she offered Nikki a smile that seemed almost shy.
“You’re too sophisticated for this street.”
Nikki laughed. “Not considering where I’ve spent the past five years.” She slipped behind the wheel, waited until Helen was settled, and pulled away from the curb. “So tell me, darling, you were shagging a gardener. You must know where the largest garden center is between here and the club.”
Helen shot her a look but apparently decided not to prickle at the comment, which was a bit of a miracle considering she hadn’t had either coffee or breakfast yet. Her tone was a bit clipped when she gave directions though, after first pointedly reminding Nikki that she had promised to stop for food.
After a bite at the local café, Nikki parked her car outside the local garden center. She went immediately to the manager with her list of requirements, bypassing the staff that consisted mostly of teenagers, and once he saw the amount she was looking to spend, immediately welcomed her into the office to go over it with her. Helen declined the offer to join the discussion, announced she was going to buy a plant for her office at work and wandered off in search of just the right one.
After Nikki had concluded business to her satisfaction, including establishing solid delivery dates, she left the manager’s office and paused briefly by the display of bulbs. As she looked over the selection, she became aware of a body behind her browsing the opposite display, the way one took in their surroundings while shopping. Unfortunately, it appeared that the other customer wasn't particularly aware of her and stepped back into her. Annoyed, she turned around as he did. Both paused in surprise when they recognized the other.
"Uh, hi there." Nikki lifted a brow. She should have expected this, she told herself. After all, the only reason Helen knew about the garden center was because of him.
Sean Parr, Helen's ex-fiancé, appeared at a loss for words. "Uh, sorry," he managed. "I wasn't watching." A tall, thin man with boyish features, a lock of unruly hair falling over his forehead, he looked very uncomfortable. "I heard you got out."
Nikki forced a smile. She suspected it was rather pained. "Yeah, a few months ago."
"Good news for you."
"It was."
His features abruptly darkened. "I wonder if they took everything into account when they let you go."
"Huh?"
He took a step closer, lowering his voice. "Helen told me how you dragged her into her cell and tried to kiss her. If you were a man, you'd have been charged with sexual assault."
Nikki was stunned. "She told you what?"
At that moment, the woman in question came around the end of the counter. "Sweetheart, have you fin..." She was carrying a plant and stopped dead when she saw who was standing with her lover. Obviously, while she had spotted Nikki, the tall display had prevented her from seeing someone else was there.
Sean looked back and forth between the two women, understanding slowly dawning in his dark eyes. "Bloody hell."
Nikki smiled ferociously. "Reckon I didn't have to drag her in there more than once."
He just looked disgusted and without another word, walked away. Helen looked after him a moment, a concerned expression on her face, before focusing on Nikki. "Are you all right? What did he want?"
Nikki was biting the inside of her cheek and counting very slowly to ten. Don't jump on this, she repeated to herself like a mantra. "I'll be out in the car."
Without looking at her, Nikki put down the bulbs and walked away in the opposite direction that Sean had taken. Out in the Boxster, she stared through the windshield and gritted her teeth. Sometimes she simply couldn't believe the behavior of Helen. She set her jaw as the passenger door opened and Helen slipped inside, setting her newly purchased plant on her lap.
"What did he say to upset you?"
"Oh, he mentioned something about how the appeals court wouldn't have let me go if they had taken everything into account.”
Helen's eyes narrowed, growing dark. "Bastard."
Nikki made a sound, not quite like a growl. "Don’t blame him. Apparently he's under the impression that during my incarceration, I had an unfortunate habit of dragging wing governors into my cell and trying to kiss them. Said if I were a man, I'd be charged with sexual assault."
A profound silence greeted this remark and Nikki took a sideways glance. There was an expression on Helen's face, midway between shame and embarrassment.
"Did you tell him I assaulted you?" She was incredulous.
"I may have," Helen admitted reluctantly after a moment.
"Great. He thinks I’m no better than Jim Fenner. Not that I give a bloody toss what he thinks." She slammed her hands on the steering wheel and looked away, out the side window, feeling tears sting her eyes.
"Nikki, you have to understand, after you kissed me that first time, I was confused and upset..."
“So you lied to him!”
“It wasn’t a lie exactly…”
"Let's review, shall we?" Nikki's tone was scathing. "I was sitting alone in my cell after lockup, reading a book and minding my own business, when you came in and plunked your arse down on the bed beside me. Not down at the other end of the bed, not a couple of feet away, but right down beside me so that we’re side by side, actually touching. Never mind that there was a chair in the cell, not to mention a toilet if you were really pressed for someplace to sit other than right next to me..."
"Nikki..."
"You proceed to give me this huge sob story about your job, snuggle up when I put my arm around you, look for support and comfort from me, someone who's made no secret that she fancies you in every way, and then, when I take what is a perfectly natural opportunity to kiss you…
“Nikki…”
“You play the wounded heterosexual. Okay, I admit that maybe my timing was a little off, but it wasn't just the one kiss, Helen, it was three and let's set the record straight, you were bloody well kissing me back for at least two and a half of them, and if I hadn’t started pulling you closer for something else, we might have enjoyed two or three more. I actually let you get away with the accusation that I took advantage of you at the time, but if you think I'll accept being tarred as a sexual predator because..."
"Nikki!"
Fuming, Nikki shut up. Despite her best effort, she'd gone off again, but hell, she felt she had valid reason this time.
Helen looked sincerely contrite. "You're right. It was unacceptable. I shouldn't have told him about it at all, but when I did, I shouldn't have misrepresented what happened."
"So why did you?"
"I don't know."
Nikki lifted her brows. "If you don’t, who the hell does?"
"Can you just accept it was a stupid thing to do at a rather chaotic time in my life?"
"Fine."
Though she
didn't think it was fine at all.
"Do you want me to go find Sean and tell him I lied?"
Nikki laughed without humor. "I think he figured it out when you came around the corner calling me sweetheart. That or he thinks you like being assaulted by female inmates."
"Shit."
For a moment, the two women sat in the car in silence. Helen broke it first, reaching over to put her hand on Nikki's leg. "Do you forgive me?"
Nikki hesitated a moment before putting her hand over Helen's, entwining her fingers in hers. "You know I do."
"Are we okay?"
"I reckon."
"Do we need to go back in and finish shopping?"
Nikki glanced at her. "No, I’ve taken care of everything. With any luck, any future business can be dealt with over the phone and I won’t have to worry about running into Sean very often.”
“I’m sorry, Nikki.”
“It’s okay.” Nikki shook her head. “But when I think of how much you tried to deny what was staring you right in the face…”
“Well, you know how much I hate surprises.” Helen sighed. “Finding myself attracted to a woman was a hell of a surprise. Having her kiss me in her cell and liking it was an even bigger surprise. It just got worse from there, with one thing after another that I was forced to acknowledge, no matter how much I didn’t want to.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Well, it could have been a little less traumatic,” Helen said softly as she squeezed Nikki’s fingers, “but no, I don’t regret any of it. It brought me you.”
Helen shut the front door and ascended the short flight of stairs leading to the living room. Dropping her briefcase on the coffee table, she slipped out of her shoes and wriggled her toes before padding toward the kitchen. It had been a long day and she wanted nothing more than to grab a quick bite, curl up on the sofa with some wine, a good book and some music before she went off to bed. Or rather, that’s what she’d settle for. What she really wanted was to see Nikki, snuggle into her arms and stay there for as long as she could.
She blinked as she stepped into the kitchen. There was a warm odor of something savory in the oven, and the small table by the window had been set for two, complete with a single rose in a vase. Bewildered, she glanced around, and then peered through the glass of the back door, spotting a figure moving about the potting shed in the garden.
A wide smile spread across her face and she started for the door, paused, went back for her shoes, and then headed outside. Dressed in blue jeans and a pink golfshirt that left her arms bare, Nikki was working at the bench, doing something with the pots and assorted bulbs. She glanced over her shoulder as Helen’s shadow blocked the light coming in through the door.
“Hiya,” she greeted, smiling.
“What are you doing here?”
“Potting some plants.”
&