Chapter Nine

"Where the bloody hell is she!" Nikki slammed her mobile down onto the breakfast table with an intended violence that scared her, and in turn her daughter, who broke into hysterical crying caused by her mothers noisy outburst.

"Shh…don't cry darling." Lifting little Ellidah from her chair to cradle her in her arms, she rocked the 23-month old in her arms until the tears subsided. It amazed her how quickly the tiny girl was soothed into silence and comfort from one loving hug, and it made her wonder if such a small gesture would solve all her problems too. She knew the answer was no; it would take a hell of a lot more than a warm embrace to end the nightmare upon which she was about to embark…but it didn't matter anyway. There was no one around to give her that longed for cuddle. Trisha hadn't come near in her months; not even in bed did their bodies accidentally touch. Both blamed their overlapping work schedules for the lull in their sex life, but Nikki knew there were more serious problems in their relationship. No more making love, no more fun, no more communication - added together it equated to no more Nikki and Trisha - though neither were willing to admit it. Each were comfortable in their self-made bubble, so why burst it?

Initially Nikki had believed the arrival of their daughter would be the magnet that would pull them back together again and be the gel that set the foundations of their 9 year partnership, but in all honesty it had had the opposite affect. Nikki was left holding the baby while Trisha gallivanted about like the single business women she loved to be - not the responsible mother she had agreed on being.

Settling Ellidah down in the living room to play with the copious number of toys that were scattered around the floor gave Nikki the chance to pick up the phone once more and redial her girlfriend's mobile number. After several rings it clicked straight onto the automated answer-service, and without leaving a further message Nikki slammed the phone back into its cradle. Seething; she paced the floor by the window.

Four messages and two hours later and there was still no reply from Trisha. Surely if she had only been out shopping like she had proclaimed then she would have picked up her messages and replied by now, Nikki thought to herself before laughing mirthlessly at her own stupidity. Like a bolt of lightening the realisation hit her. All those times Trisha was supposed to be at work, but never quite managed to make it there - and the excuses that followed. "Caroline's boyfriend upset her and she needed a shoulder to cry on…" "Caroline needed help choosing wallpaper…" Caroline. Caroline. Bloody Caroline!

"The two-faced little tart! I know exactly what she's up to and it sure as hell isn't maxing out my credit cards!" Anger invaded her senses until the phone ringing snapped her out of it.

"Trish?!" Immediately on the defensive she screamed down the phone ready to fight - only to be sorely disappointed. "No, I don't want a bloody fitted kitchen, now piss off!" Again the poor telephone took a bashing as it came banging back down into its holder for the umpteenth time that day.

Nikki's nerves were now pulled tighter than a plastic surgery addicts face. Her body trembled in a mixture of anger and fear. This morning when she woke up she had everything - a good job, a partner, and a baby girl whom she adored, and in the space of a few hours it seemed like everything was slipping away from her grasp.

There was only one person she could talk to now, and that was her best friend, Yvonne Atkins.

***********

"Thomas, I think there is something you should know," Helen took a large gulp from her glass as Dutch courage, giving her time to try and formulate in her mind the words she wanted say. She knew no matter how she put it, the end result would not be good. However, she had to at least try and soften the blow Thomas would feel when he found out he was a Father, and that she had kept it hidden from him all this time.

"Yes? Are you okay, Helen?" Thomas sat forward in his chair, his hand reaching across the polished wooden table to grasp Helen's in support. She watched him intently as he did so, and wondered how after everything that had happened he could still look genuinely concerned for her well being. She didn't want it - she didn't deserve it. As she stared into his face the past came flooding back, drowning her in its intensity.

"Helen come away from that window, you're making the house look untidy, just standing there staring into space. Make yourself useful and put the dinner on." Reverend Stewart sat in his usual armchair in the corner of the room, his nose stuck in "The Herald" newspaper and his nightly pre-dinner glass of whiskey by his side.

"I'm going for a walk." Helen ignored his comments and grabbed her jacket from its hanger. She needed to get out of the house as quickly as possible, before the four walls finally came in on her, trapping her their concrete cocoon.

"Where do you plan to go? We are in the middle of nowhere, Lass. Now, don't be silly."

"Firstly, it's none of your business where I am going, and secondly, I'm not a "Lass" or silly for that matter!" She slammed the door behind her before her Dad had a chance to chastise her for her outburst. She had had enough of his sermonizing these last few weeks to last a life time, and the days of holding her tongue while he belittled her were coming to an end. Her Mother may have let him speak to her in such a way, but Helen wasn't standing for it. She was an adult, and she was going to demand she was treated like one.

The heavy grey clouds in the sky above her opened up suddenly, releasing torrents of rain that ran quickly down the gravel walkway, creating tiny rivers that carried away any debris that lay in its path.

Realising that she had two very unpleasant options to choose from - one to walk for miles in the rain to get to her desired destination, or two, go back inside and face the wrath of her Father, Helen choose option three - to dig her car keys out of her jacket pocket and get into the warmth of the economical and reliable red Peugeot 206 that she loved.

The drive normally wouldn't take long, fifteen minutes tops, but the journey seemed to take an eternity as she circled the words she would chose to speak when she finally formulated them in her brain. But no matter how hard she tried she just couldn't find an easy way to say the two little words she feared the most - "I'm pregnant."

The rain lashed forcefully against her windscreen as she drove a sensible twenty miles per hour towards the tiny riverside cottage that was almost identical to her fathers, and where she had shared many a night wrapped in her lovers arms.

The black plastic wipers darting back and forth obscured her view, but through the little raindrops that littered the glass she saw something that was unmistakable.

Bringing the vehicle to an abrupt halt at the top of the hill she got out to have a better view and to reassure herself she wasn't seeing things. But there it was. Sitting less than a hundred feet away; a large white, Pickfords removal fan, with Thomas and his perfect wife Katherine getting into it and driving off into the sunset without even as much as a goodbye.

Helen slowly lifted her glistening eyes from the table. It was no easier to speak now than when she had first planned to reveal her secret; if anything it was harder. Back then she thought Thomas would resent her, but now she knew he really would.

"Thomas…" Helen took and deep breath and prepared herself to finally blurt out the truth that was a tightening noose around her neck.

"Yes? Oh wait a second," Quickly retrieving the hand that held hers, Thomas reached into his pocket and pulled free a small black prison issue mobile phone. "Damn, Helen can this wait? Two of the women on G Wing have managed to get themselves onto the roof and are waging a protest about the injustice of male officers working so closely with female inmates. Stubberfield's requested I go in immediately to give them strategies to talk them down. I'm really sorry." Thomas clasped his hand back over Helen's and gave it a tight squeeze.

"Don't be; shit happens, especially in Larkhall. I'm just glad I don't have to work there for a while." Helen forced a smile that hid an immense amount of relief. The way she felt right now she could kiss Simon Stubberfield for causing a diversion that would put a temporary grate over the hole she had dug for herself. It would buy her precious time in spilling all to her one-time boyfriend - if she ever chose to divulge at all. This was fates way of telling her to keep her mouth shut.

"You won't be working at Larkhall? Was that what you were about to tell me? What's happened?" Thomas quickly flung on his jacket and made his way to the exit as Helen followed behind.

"Long story that one you don't have time to wait around and hear; but I'm sure you will find out at some point." But just how much Thomas Waugh would get to find out, Helen hadn't yet decided.