Shed Productions made the original Bad Girl element of the characters, wrote the stories, and have full copyright to them. I am using these characters simply for non-profit, entertainment value. Likewise I am giving credits to G F Newman who wrote the Judge John Deed copyrighted characters and storylines via BBC Productions in this cross over fiction and similarly to Patricia Cornwall for borrowing characters from her Kay Scarpetta. I am also grateful to ekny for taking time to beta reading one of my chapters.
I am happy to accept comment, but am not looking for any criticism (negative or positive) either publicly or privately--only general encouragement
Scene OneThe bright spring weather cast sharp shadows on the stiff armed trees and the budding daffodils on that special April morning. It blew gentle breezes that didn't have that bitter chill of winter but carried that suggestion of life that was later to blossom. Just a few fluffy white clouds were carried along high overhead, slowly moving their way across the sky like slow moving galleons. The sun shone down on the world bestowing perfect equality of favours. It glanced in through the large side window of Helen's flat, through the trim lace curtains of the digs where John and Monty slept the alcohol fuelled sleep of the righteous and illuminated the modest modern semi detached house where Claire and Peter slept. It did not need to wake up the Julies in their narrow garret window in their cell in G Wing cell as the clang of the opening door woke them up already. It worked in vain to rouse the alcohol sodden Fenner, crashed out asleep in his cheap boarding house, having obliterated his consciousness at Wade putting one over him. Only little children had that innocent desire to explore outside and see what the bright new morning had to offer. Those who had laboured hard during the week sympathized in spirit but needed that time to recuperate, to let rest heal the system. Those who wished to opt out of the world missed the spirit that was offered to their disadvantage and no remission for good behaviour. It was highly fitting weather when life had renewed itself and could start out afresh.
By contrast, Nikki laboured in dark spaces, hidden from the world. The only light that was above her was a scanty row of very dim bulbs that seemed designed to show the futility of illumination. It was only just enough to show her where to place her feet. Presently, she could see a line of grim, contrasting rough painted vertical parallel bars block her way forward. Automatically, she felt inside her jeans pocket but it dismayed her to reach for her keys and they weren't there. There was something obviously wrong, wasn't there. Surely that wasn't just? Nikki sighed and told herself to be practical about things. The place was totally deserted with no one in sight. In a bored fashion, she leant against the wall and her eyes peered in both directions but there wasn't a sign of anyone around, especially as the more distant view receded into fuzzy obscurity. She shook the bars to test them but, as expected, they were solid. About the only thing working in this dump, she sniffed sardonically.
It's typical, she reasoned, when you actually want a screw, there's no one in sight. She resolved take matters in her own hands as she normally did and to walk back to where she had come from, wherever that was. At least the lights, such as they were, gave as much illumination traveling this way. She was out on her own but hadn't she been on her own all her life. At least she wasn't lonely, her nature being inclined that way.
As she strolled casually along, she saw the shape of a payphone that was clamped to the wall. She smiled at the sight of it and, as she drew closer to it, she automatically felt for her jeans back pocket for the usual phone card. She wasn't really sure just whom she was going to call but she needed contact with the outside world. She ruminated on just who would be trusted to provide the good sense that would be welcome to her. Helen was an obvious choice, her friend and lover but if she was engaged, she reflected that she was on good terms with Claire Walker, who wasn't just Helen's friend. If that didn't work, Jo's warm smile, unpretentious friendliness and solid knowledge of the territory that was foreign for ability to see through
She could even go to the top and phone John Deed. He belonged to the profession that she's once dismissed as 'pricks in wigs' but that was long ago. She had established communication with him and even that spark of intimate friendship. Surely one of them would give her the directions to get out of this hole. It was only when she picked up the phone when discovered that the numbers that should have shown up even in this lousy light weren't there. There was no dialing tone either.
"Bloody phone," Nikki swore shortly and carried on her way. The corridor seemed endless and the interminable gloom was starting to strain her eyes. On and on, her trainers took her ever onwards. The suspicion was starting to gather in her mind, which solidified as the view became clearer of a second set of bars ahead. As she got to them, she gave way to a flash of anger and shook the bars impotently. The reverberating sound of clanking metal echoed and reechoed down the corridor and into nothingness. It was only a few minutes later that the faint shouting could be heard, immeasurably far away.
She surprised herself in becoming almost unnaturally calm, as if this creepy gothic landscape could have no sway over her moods or her reasoning. She spotted a narrow side alley and decided to pursue this line of escape and see where it took her. She could see that the dim line of lights suddenly stopped dead after a while. Her heart started to sink as the way forward faded into darkness as she got to what must be the end. However, when she edged her feet forwards to what must be a dead end, she spotted a pinhole of bright light. This gave her some illusion that she should not lose hope but the almost total blackness made it more and more impossible. The possibility of freedom and her present state of helpless imprisonment put an unbearable strain on her. It was only out of sheer desperate inspiration that she fumbled inside her jeans pocket and fished out a cigarette lighter. It made her smile ironically that she had the lighter but no cigarettes. She struck at the flint and the glow from it was positive illumination to her light starved eyes. However, it was enough to show her what looked like a light switch and that at the end of the tunnel was an ordinary looking door fastened by a padlock through the hasp. What she did notice was what looked like a light switch right in the corner so it wouldn't be noticed. Sighing with faint hope, her left hand idly flicked the switch. Nothing else worked in this dump so why shouldn't this, she thought with cynical lack of faith. To her total surprise, illumination dawned over her head, nothing substantial by ordinary standards but riches from heaven by comparison. What delighted her even more was the fact that the door didn't look particularly sturdy and, best of all, a heavy sledgehammer was leaning against the corner. It invited her to lay her hands on it, which she did, and felt the weight of it.
"You can't go in there, Wade. This is government authorized property, only for the use of its employees," hailed that hated voice from Bodybag out of nowhere. The dim lighting outside the illuminated area of the lamp over her head was thrown into total blackness by contrast so that Bodybag's voice called to her from out of the void. Only the clomping sounds of her footsteps announced that she was getting closer.
"Oh, can't I, Bodybag? Just you wait and see."
She picked up the thick shaft of wood and the heavy weight on the end of it and swung it in a perfect arc. It hit the lock with a crash and the metal bent under the blow.
"You're damaging government property, Wade. You'll be down the block as soon as I catch up with you."
Nikki could swear that Frobisher and Fenner were also shouting at her. She laughed contemptuously. After all, they had no hold over her anymore.
"That's tough luck as I'm breaking my way out .You have no hold over me."
With that, she aimed a second blow right on the spot that she landed the first and the padlock flew off the hasp with a metallic clang. All the time, the hurrying footsteps grew louder as did the gasps of breath from the out of breath and frantic prison warder. Nikki put her shoulder to the door and with a grating sound it gradually gave way with comparative ease. At once, the blinding daylight streamed into Nikki's eyes and she put her hands to her eyes as she stumbled forward as her feet took her. It was only after a couple of minutes when she became aware of voices and felt hands pat her on the shoulders when her eyes came back into focus, whited out faces appeared as finally, she was starting to see again. She realized that Helen was hugging her closely while Claire, Jo, Trisha, Sally Anne, Nikki's father, John Deed, Monty Everard and Joseph Channing smiled on approvingly.
"Helen, I can't believe I'm finally out of here"
"Wild horses wouldn't have kept us apart, sweetheart," Helen whispered with fierce devotion. The strange thing was that her voice sounded strangely muffled.
"We got you out of an unjust sentence before, Nikki. This time, we felt helpless that we couldn't offer any practical help. The least we can do is to welcome you to the first day of your life, completely reborn."
John's words of kindness melted Nikki's heart and brought tears to her eyes even though his normally carrying voice didn't have the resonance that she remembered so well. Everyone smiled on her so approvingly.
"This feels so fantastic. I never knew I had so many friends. I can be anyone, go anywhere, do anything," she breathed.
"An Englishwoman's home is her castle," put in Nikki's father with approving smiles from Trisha and Sally Anne who were surprised at the depth of understanding shown by this die-hard Conservative male.
"So what do I do now?" Nikki asked, rhetorically.
"As soon as you wake up, we're going to have a lie in today, sweetheart, and the weekend is ours to decide," Helen's voice sounded in her ear, much sharper and clearer than before.
Nikki opened her eyes at the contrast …….and……and……she blinked her eyes to stare upwards at the angles of the clean white ceiling and the lampshade hanging over her head. She gradually realized that she was lying flat on her back, her nightie twisted round her and a piled up quilt all around her. This wasn't the view she could remember. Helen's face hovered overhead with an expression of concern on her face, her hair hanging down. Nikki breathed a sigh of relief. At least what was before her eyes looked relatively normal.
"What......where the hell am I, Helen?"
"In our bed. Where you should you be on a sunny Saturday morning after the trial? Everything's just fine but it's a bit early as it's half past seven in the morning."
"So there's nothing to worry about?" mumbled Nikki weakly.
"Only that you've been having some sort of nightmare, twisting and turning about. I didn't want to wake you except that you started to call out to me so here I am."
"Hey it wasn't that bad. I was in this underground jail with Bodybag and Fenner after me so I smashed down the door and everyone was there to congratulate me, even my dad and all the judges. I'm safe now."
Helen's face was a picture. She could tell how real the dream had been for Nikki as she slurred out the words through the fog of sleep. She looked happy enough with a faint smile on her face having achieved victory in her dreams. Nikki was luckier than she had been in her choice of subconscious wide screen entertainment.
"You get all the luck, Nikki. Look what happened to be a few months back. I got cornered in Larkhall and Fenner was threatening to rape me."
"As if I could ever forget all the shit you ever took from him, darling," Nikki murmured, her voice dripping with sympathy and she reached upwards to brush Helen's cheek before continuing on a sharper note of concern." Hey, you are talking about that horrible dream aren't you?"
"As much as you are talking about yours," came Helen's straight-faced reply. Nikki moved her head wearily from side to side. This conundrum-ridden conversation could carry on forever and she was tired.
"Hey, I'll come down and lie next to you, darling," sweetly urged that ever so softly spoken Scottish brogue that made Nikki feel weak at the knees. She crossed the short distance back to Nikki and her arms reached out for the taller woman. Gently, they drew each other close and planted little kisses on each other's lips, cheeks and necks. The gentle pressure of each other's arms told each other, in its quiet way, how profoundly they loved each other. The sunlight streamed through the gaps in the blinds and bathed them in a gentle glow. This was paradise.
"We can be anyone, go anywhere, do anything."
"That's what I said earlier on, Helen," put in Nikki which caused Helen's expressive face to reveal her astonishment. She could remember no such thing except Nikki mumbling in her sleep.
"In your dreams, sweetheart."
"Oh that explains everything," Nikki responded brightly.
Helen laughed softly at her very remarkable partner. Even in her dreams, she could beat the powers of darkness. This was their new morning.
Claire lay spread out on her double bed, dead to the world until late on Saturday morning. She had slept the sleep of the righteous and utterly exhausted. While the soft early morning daylight permeated the bedroom, Claire was sunk into a state of total dreamless oblivion. The driving sense of purpose that had propelled her these last few months had been disconnected. It was right that she should recharge her batteries in the most natural way possible.
This was what Peter thought when he woke up moderately early and looked round at his wife with gentle affection and tremendous pride. She was increasingly taking on high profile cases, which engaged her emotionally and practically. When she was totally engrossed in them, that continued into the evening but Peter was an amenable human being. For a start, all solicitors tended to let work intrude into evening time and this was par for the course. For another, he was unambitious and was content to handle the run of the mill cases and his wife's success did not make him feel threatened. It wasn't the case that he had made a big public declaration of being a 'new man.' It was more the case that it came natural to him. He recalled how last night, he'd come home from the normal conveyancing work to find her stretched out on the sofa, the lids on her eyes lowered. He kissed her on her cheek, passed her a small glass of sherry and she gently smiled and murmured at him. He'd virtually had to carry her up to bed and forget any ideas of staying up late because the next day needn't wake them up on time. The weekend was theirs to enjoy last night just as it was on this brand new morning.
When her eyelids blinked open, split second impressions of the high white bedroom comforted her and gave her that lazy contented feeling. She was given context in place and time by split second images of her sliding away back home leaving the others to head off to Trisha's club to carry on the party. She wasn't bothered then any more than she was now. She wasn't a particularly dedicated party creature, forever worrying in case she was missing out on the fun. Being desperately tired made that decision for her. As the others had chatted away earlier on, she had slipped in and out of a waking dreaming state not much different than now. The big advantage she had now was lying full length where she lay, rather than prop herself up in a hard wooden chair. She let those memories slide through her fingers. Now was not the time for purposeful self orienteering. The time would come later.