OK then. Brief catch up… Cook AWOL but almost certainly in custody, Naomi ditto and in the local police station being questioned about her significant other's activities. Apartment wrecked by those wonderful considerate peace officers and oh...Emily back in the arms (maybe?) of Effy, who seems to know a lot more about the shocking raid than she really ought do. Dramatic enough for you? Hello…? Is there anyone out there who cares? :)

Naomi

I'm cold. Bloody cold. It's not even winter, but sitting on this wafer thin blue plastic mattress, which itself is resting on an ugly concrete bloody bed in just my joggers and sweatshirt, I'm freezing.

I know most of it is just delayed shock, but lets be honest, H.M. Constabulary are not too bothered about the welfare of a suspected drug dealer's partner between interviews. I say interviews, but since I got here, I've spent most of the time in this small rectangular grey box, watching the sky gradually pale and lighten through a tiny, barred window six feet up the wall. The sounds of activity outside in the dim;ly lit corridor have increased in the last few minutes, so I'm hopeful something will happen soon at least. I'm caught between terror at what that something actually turns out to be and hope, that as I wasn't in possession of anything worse than cheap holiday brandy, they might let me go soon.

The name 'Emily' crops up now and again in my feverish mind of course...OK, about every ten seconds actually. But its pointless trying to work out if she even cares about what happens to me now. I'm sure Effy has filled her in on what Cook really does for a living (it shouldn't have come as too much of a shock...Cook was the source of most of our youthful happy powder at Roundview after all)...but I suppose she had a right to expect that was just teenage over exuberance? Anyway, I have more pressing matters to deal with...like I'm busting for a pee and the stained metal loo in the corner is filled to the brim with a mixture of toilet paper and something so disgusting, I've avoided looking directly at it. I might be desperate, but I'm not planting the naked Campbell rear end over that.

So I got up, hugging myself to keep some sort of body warmth going and pressed the recessed bell by the door. I heard it go off somewhere distant but it was over five minutes before I heard the jangle of keys and footsteps in the corridor. I hoped it wasn't Irma Grese, as I've christened her. Last night, she was the delightful female officer who got the lucky ticket, searching my, err ...cavities... for hidden pharmaceuticals. Lets just say she was very diligent in her work. I can still smell those surgical gloves and feel her rough fingers probing about inside me. Standing against a wall, with my knickers on the floor, her right behind me breathing way too heavily for someone who was just going through the motions (stop it) was very embarrassing and uncomfortable. Worse because I knew there was nothing to find there. Much worse, because the last person to explore me so minutely was a certain small brunette who was quite a bit gentler, if equally thorough about it.

Anyway, pointless intimate search over, 'Irma' let me dress and accompanied me to this delightful hotel room. All facilities laid on, if you count concrete beds, blocked toilets and a window I can't see out of unless I lay on my back. Oh, and the added extra of a steel door with no handle on the inside. Just a square hatch that a grudging cup of tea was pushed through sometime after midnight. I drank it, even if it was just to get rid of the awful brandy aftertaste. Stewed it might be, but better than the godawful spirit I'd drunk too much of last night.

Anyway, enough about last night, the footsteps had got closer.

The plod outside didn't even open the hatch, just spoke through the shiny door.

"What?"

Charmed I'm sure I thought, but didn't say out loud. My priority was getting out of here and unlike with the delightful Andy last night, I saw no point in aggravating the other uniformed state servants. So I suppressed my natural inclination to rip him a new one and stepped over to the door.

"Excuse me officer...but the toilet in here was blocked by your last 'guest'...could I ask if I can use an outside loo please?"

Every word pained me. I wasn't used to being so polite to authority. A lifetime of my mums anti establishment conditioning was hard to overcome. But I needed a pee and the person outside held the key to that...literally.

"The detectives will be coming to interview you in about an hour Campbell...can't it wait?" the male voice said curtly.

I felt a bit of relief that Irma had gone off to other concentration camp duties, but I still needed to go...badly.

"Sorry..."I tried again "I've been holding it in for ages...I really need to go"

I heard the annoyed sigh, even through the thick door.

"You'll have to wait until I get a female officer Campbell...I'll be back in a few minutes" he answered, then I heard his footsteps going away, keys clinking as he did.

I sighed heavily this time. Fuck, I really needed to pee. Crossing my legs and sitting carefully back on the grim plastic mattress I picked up a thin grey blanket that smelled of something earthily dank and wrapped gingerly it round my shoulders. Better smelly than frozen, I thought bleakly, as my bladder complained some more.

It was more like ten minutes before footsteps finally returned. The lock grated as the key was inserted and then the door swung open. A female cop stared in at me. Younger than Irma, a lot younger and praise be, she actually smiled at me. After all the shit I had been through this past few hours, it was like a ray of sunshine and I found myself automatically smiling back. I saw her nose wrinkle at the smell coming from the toilet by the door and she frowned.

"Jesus...have you been in here all night, Naomi?"

I nodded. First name terms, that had to be good, right?

"Fucking night shift" she made a face of disgust..."...this cell should have been closed until the cleaners come in. Right, come with me to the toilets and after you've been, I'll put you in number 5...its for juveniles normally, so not quite so grim and definitely not as smelly?"

I could have cried right there. Someone being kind to me was almost too much to bear.

"Thanks?" I managed, choking on the word. She smiled again, a bit less warmly maybe, but still a smile. She must have been my age, maybe a year or two older. Shortish black hair and a face way too kind for her job.

"Come on then...before I change my mind" she said gruffly. Going back into institutional mode then, I thought wryly.

I followed her silently down the corridor, through a locked steel gate, which she opened and closed as we passed, then along another grey corridor. There were two toilets at the very end and I went straight into the one marked 'women' while she waited just outside. After I'd relieved myself, which was like fucking heaven, by the way, I used a small sink to wash my hands and face in hot water, suing the soap dispenser to lather up my hands. I felt better just for that. No chance of cleaning my teeth of course, but at least I could rinse my mouth out with cold water afterwards. I had the chance to look at myself in the faded mirror before I went back outside. Jesus I looked a mess. The only saving grace was the fact that I hadn't been wearing make up yesterday, so the astonished panda look was out. But my hair was tangled and all over the place. I just ran my fingers through it as best I could as I walked back to the corridor.

"Right" the woman police officer said "Number five then...CID will be in to see you at nine, which is less than an hour from now. Do you want some breakfast Naomi?"

My stomach grumbled at the mere mention of food...I'd not eaten anything for over 16 hours, but I was a bit wary about what I was likely to be given to eat in this rat hole, so I shook my head.

"Just toast and tea would be fine...errr?.." I said shakily. I didn't know her name and she didn't seem too keen to give it. Just the number on the blue epaulette on her white shirt identified her. 5676 then...

She raised her eyebrows and her mouth twisted.

"We don't go much for a la carte menu's here Campbell...but I'll see what I can do...Now, back to the cells, I'm afraid...oh...and there's a lawyer on her way here...one of the duty legal aid team I reckon. I take it you'll be happy to speak to her before you're interviewed?"

I nodded vigorously. A lawyer was very much what I wanted. I'd asked for one last night, but all I got was a five minute conversation with some duty drone on the phone. He just told me to sit tight (as if I had any option on that choice) and that one of his colleagues would be along in the morning when I was being interviewed.

Number five cell turned out to be much better,. No window, but bigger and with a proper metal bed with an actual human sized mattress and clean linen. Plus a chair and small table. The room was lit by a proper recessed light above, not the glaring fluorescent my last one had enjoyed. I thanked the copper, who just nodded as if her previous good nature had been a bit of a mistake, then left me. Still no handle on the inside of the door, but at least she propped the flap open so I could look out into the corridor. It felt a bit less claustrophobic and I began to feel marginally better than I had ten minutes ago.

Tea and toast was duly delivered inside five minutes by yet another woman policeman through the flap and as she left, she informed me that my solicitor was in the building. The buttered toast was cold, but the tea was hot and strong, with what tasted like half a dozen sugars in it. For once, I forgot my principles and drank it thirstily. Naomi Campbell could risk obesity for once, I thought as the tea did its job refreshing me no end.

It only seemed like a minute or too after I finished the tea and swallowed the last piece of semi burned toast before there were footsteps again and the sound of keys in the lock.

The door opened and a woman in her late twenties maybe, very smart in what looked like an expensive blue suit over a crisp white top, came in. She wore stylish glasses and had her blonde hair up in a neat bun. I returned her bland smile with one of my own. I had a second to spare, which my brain stupidly used to tell me she was quite fit, in a buttoned up way, before I reminded myself that just because I'd recently returned to fancying girls, this was no time to practice my rusty gaydar.

""Naomi?" she said, her cornflower blue eyes looking curiously round the cell, before walking over to the single chair and sitting down without asking. I suppressed my natural instinct for sarcasm, just nodding instead of asking her who the fuck else she expected to meet in this police cell with my name on the door. There was a lot of anger inside me waiting to burst out at someone...at Cook for being a dickhead getting caught dealing, at Effy for having something to do with me being here (not that I knew what she'd done yet) and lastly the brutes who had systematically wrecked my home, but that could all wait. Right now I needed friends, not more enemies.

"My name is Rebecca Wright. I'm going to be with you this morning when the police interview you. I understand that you were arrested last night on suspicion of possessing and or supplying quantity of class A drugs?" she said calmly.

I nodded quickly. It sounded worse somehow, coming from her "But I don't take...I mean I don't sell..." I began to protest, but she waved at me to stop talking, gesturing over her shoulder with her eyes towards the slightly ajar door.

"No need for denials at this stage Naomi...I'm here to get you out of here" she said in a voice so low I had to lean forwards to catch the words "...the purpose of the first police interview is to try to get you to confess to the charge...which won't be happening...right?"

"Err...no, definitely not" I said uncertainly "But like I said I don't..."

"Yes, yes...I understand" she interrupted, meaning forwards herself, "but the police will try to engage you in innocent conversation first, which will quickly turn to actual interrogation if you respond. We don't play that game. As I understand it, they have your...partner...James...Cook?" she looked up at me from her manilla file for confirmation "...in custody at another police station. He was arrested trying to sell cocaine to an undercover police officer. I'm afraid his situation is a lot worse than yours this morning Naomi. But anyway...I also understand that no drugs, or drug dealing paraphernalia was found at your apartment...or on your person...is that correct too?"

I nodded again.

"And they took a blood sample from me...and a DNA swab...they won't find anything in my body other than cheap Greek brandy..." I said firmly "I don't take drugs"

That wasn't exactly true...but it had been a while since I'd even had a toke, so I was confident my blood test would be clear.

Rebecca nodded.

"OK then...I think thats all we need for now. I have the details of your arrest and your personal ones here. When you're interviewed, it will be 'no comment' to every question, no matter how hard or easy they go at you...got it?" Her eyes flashed fire at me as she emphasised the point. Fuck that was an attractive expression I thought, then dismissed it angrily. Since when did I start fancying anything in a skirt?

"But...but I'm innocent..shouldn't I just...err say that?..."

"No...absolutely not. First we get this over with. They'll try to get you to incriminate yourself, but they have absolutely nothing to tie you to James apart from your relationship. It's just a fishing expedition, trying to flush out more about his background and the whereabouts of his supplier. Frankly, if you're right about the test, you have absolutely nothing to worry about at all. But let me deal with them, its my job. Leave the talking to me, and you can be back home in fresh clothes by lunchtime, OK?"

Relief flooded through me at her words. Home….that sounded great. Apart from the fact, of course, that home was a train wreck and the only person I cared about (OK apart from Cook, who I still had enough affection left for to worry a little about his welfare) was one Emily Fitch, who was probably being 'consoled' by Elizabeth Stonem right now. And I knew just how diligently Effy took her consoling. I didn't think Emily would be so easy to drag back into her partners bed this time, but three years is a long time. Long enough for Effy to get her claws dug in really deep. Specially if Emily now thinks I'm a big time drug dealer.

I heard a cough and realised I hadn't actually answered Rebecca, so I blushed at my daydreaming and just nodded in agreement. The little smirk she allowed herself made me pause. How much of my personal life did this attractive suit know anyway?

I was about to find out.

She got up and put the beige file she had been scanning back into her expensive briefcase. Gucci leather, I think. I wondered for a second how a solicitor on legal aid fees managed to buy a briefcase worth a grand before she snapped it closed and gave me a professional smile.

"Right then...I'm going to get a cup of drinkable coffee from somewhere, then I'll see you in the interview room., The drug squad are in the building I'm told, so it shouldn't be long. Try not to worry Naomi, its just procedure from here onwards?"

I gave her a weak smile and sat back on the mattress. Easy for her to say.

The door closed behind her and I reconciled myself to another long wait.

XXX

But Rebecca was as good as her word. I was brought to the interview room where two plain clothes cops in shirt sleeves were waiting. I was told to sit as my solicitor walked in behind me and sat down next to me. The tape machine was started up and after the long harsh tone of the machine ended, they started. Easy stuff at first, you know, name and address, the reason I was in custody etc. I just nodded at their first questions, but Rebecca whispered in my ear that it was OK to confirm who I was and where I lived at least, so I did.

Then they moved on to the meat in the sandwich. How long had I known Cook, what was the nature of our relationship (just as well that wasn't something I had to answer) and how much did I know about his employment (too fucking much, unfortunately). I waited until my solicitor nudged me before answering "no comment" to every one. It felt like I had been in there hours but in reality it was probably only 40 minutes. Once they knew I had been well instructed, they just kept asking the same things over and over. Finally, Rebecca interrupted.

"OK D.S. Gower, D C Morgan. My client has been advised to answer no comment because she has absolutely no involvement with drugs or narcotic dealing. We both know there is no evidence whatsoever to support her continued detention. My client has been in custody for 18 hours now. You could...if you were being particularly pedantic...hold her here for another 6 hours. But we both know you would not be allowed to extend her detention past that 24 hour period. So I suggest you release Miss Campbell on police bail, pending further enquiries. She is of course willing to return as required, should you have any new matters to put to her. So...can we terminate the interview now? I have here a prepared statement, which reiterates Miss Campbell's position in regard to the matters you have put to her"

My mouth opened and closed without sound as she passed over a sheet of paper to me. I scanned it and wondered when she had the time to get it all down so succinctly. But I guess that was her job. She passed me an expensive black Parker Duofold fountain pen, which I took with trembling hands and signed where she had indicated at the bottom of the single yellow legal sheet.

The next ten minutes or so were a blur. The tape was stopped and I was escorted back to cell five for a minute or so. Just long enough for me to wince at the clang of the door behind me. Then, seconds later it seemed, it opened again and I got my scruffy blue Sketchers back. I was walked to the front desk where I had been brought in last night. This time the desk sergeant was a bit more pleasant. I was processed rapidly, my purse and bag returned, then I was whisked out of the door.

I stood in the car park alone for a moment, just breathing in the free morning air. Something we take for granted in our everyday lives, but something I was determined to enjoy now. I heard footsteps and looked round half expecting a grim faced copper to tell me being released was just a mistake and handcuffing me all over again.

But it was Rebecca, clutching that upmarket briefcase and smiling brightly.

"Want a lift home Naomi?" she said and I could have kissed her...well maybe not. There was someone closer to home I wanted to kiss a whole lot more.

The journey home in Rebecca's compact Audi, was quick and comfortable. Very different to the way I had been transported to the police station. No cuffs digging painfully into my wrists. No grim faced uniforms glaring at me. No...this was much more like it.

I thought she would just drop me at the door of my block. I'd started to worry about what I would find when I got there. A smashed in front door and a whole bunch of nosy neighbours peering out at me. And thats without the small fact that I would have to buzz one of them to let me in the communal door. My keys were still on the bedside table, where I left them yesterday.

But Rebecca parked up and got out when I did. She reached into her case and produced some familiar keys from it. I goggled at that.

"How the fu..." I asked.

She just smiled sweetly and jiggled them in her hand.

"I couldn't say back there Naomi, but you have friends...or at least Cook has, and being his partner, you sort of inherit some of his nicer privileges?"

It all started to make sense now. The expensive suit, briefcase and ultra professionalism. This wasn't just some low paid legal aid brief. This was a retained solicitor. I'd never actually met Cook's boss, but I had a good idea who Rebecca worked for now…

Letting us in, she walked in front of me and called the lift. We went up to my floor in silence. Me mainly because I really couldn't think of anything useful to say.

Getting to my floor, we walked along the corridor. I expected to see a yawning gap where my front door had been. But instead there was a brand new and obviously expensive hardwood door, complete with shiny brass fittings. Better than our old one by far. Unlocking it, we went inside. Again, I was expecting Armageddon. But the whole place had been cleaned and tidied. No clothing on the floor, no broken furniture and no upturned drawers. It was as if last night had been a terrible nightmare. Even the windows had been opened slightly to let in some fresh air. Not a trace of what had been a war zone recently.

I turned to Rebecca with wide eyes. She grinned.

"I said you have friends Naomi, and I meant it" she smiled, "Max says hi and if you feel up to it...he'd like to call round for a chat at lunchtime?"

Something told me that wasn't an invitation I could refuse. The little I knew about Max Zimmer weren't the sort of things that make you sleep easy. I'd met him a couple of times, when Cook took me to one of his West End clubs, but I have an aversion to gangsters, even the friendly type. I had to put up with Cook's chosen profession, but associating with his flint eyed boss wasn't something I wanted to do that often. Too many memories of the nasty Johnny White back in Bristol.

So much for that, I thought miserably. The guy has just paid for a fancy lawyer and had my apartment sorted in the middle of the night. That sort of clout and favour needs repaying somehow. I had a nasty feeling I wouldn't like the invoice when it came in.

But Rebecca was suddenly all smiles. Gone was the hard shell she had shown in the police station.

"Dunno about you Naomi...but I could do with a proper coffee? The brew at the police station is foul. Why don't you have a hot shower and change into something less...smelly?" her nose wrinkled for dramatic effect and my initial reluctance to view her as anything but a paid stooge faded. I did need a shower to wash the stink of custody off me. So I forced a return smile and started to walk to the bathroom. Then I remembered...Emily.

"Uhh shit..there's someone I need to tell I'm back?" I said as Rebecca started to walk to the kitchen. She turned and stared at me expectantly.

I don't know why I thought I needed to explain, but I did anyway.

"Look Rebecca...I think you should know this. Me and Cook...well, we were on the outs, even before last night. The reason he was out there, getting trashed and being stupid, trying to deal coke to an off duty copper...well, its probably because I told him we were done?"

"So there's another guy?" she asked calmly..."does he live in this building too?"

I took a deep breath. I could lie, but I had the feeling anything I tried to fool her with wasn't likely to work. She had already proved how professional she was.

"Not a guy exactly..." I said haltingly

I saw the light go on in her brain.

"Uhh, right...a woman then?" she asked

I flushed..this was not exactly how I planned on coming out.

"Yes...but its not just a new thing. Me and Emily...well we have history, going way back. She just moved into the block and...well, we bumped into each other...then one thing..."

"Led to another...I get the picture Naomi" Rebecca smiled "...its 2017...nothing too shocking about having feelings about another woman..."

I stared at her...was she saying?

She grinned again and nodded.

"Right first time. I'm gay too Naomi. But that has nothing to do with anything right now, has it? Right now...you still need that hot bath. Do yourself a favour. Clean up and put on something a bit smarter...remember Max is coming to lunch?...Emily will still be home when you knock later...and you'll make a better impression dressed up a bit?"

I shrugged. Although I wanted nothing more than to march straight round, I had no idea what I would find when I got there. It was almost mid day and she might be at work anyway. I decided to take Rebecca's advice and clean up.

"OK...are you alright to make coffee?" I said

"Sure...in fact I'm sticking around to update Max on the whole arrest thing. He has another brief trying to get Cook out on bail...but I have to be honest, he won't have it as easy as we did. Cook has form...not for drugs, but a bit of GBH when he was 17...and the law is certain there is still a big stash out there to find. He'll probably end up in Brixton on remand for a bit. But Cook knows the score. Now he's sobered up, he's bright enough to keep his mouth shut. Better all round, yeah?"

I didn't miss the implied threat in that sentence. Max Zimmer might have put his lawyers onto helping us and his minions to making the apartment habitable again, but there was a large dose of self preservation in his assistance. Keeping me and Cook happy and looked after was just good business. I was in his debt and that was an uncomfortable sensation.

But I let myself be guided into the bathroom. Once inside, I stripped quickly and dumped all my clothes into the wicker basket next to the sink. I was tempted to have a long bath, but I had no idea when this Max guy was going to show, so I settled for a very hot shower.

Getting out clean and smelling a lot sweeter, I took a few minutes with the electric toothbrush and some minty toothpaste. My mouth felt instantly better. A gargle with mouthwash, then I wrapped a big fluffy towel round myself before unlocking the door and padding barefoot to the bedroom. I caught a glimpse of Rebecca in the hall mirror as I passed the kitchen. She was humming to herself and pouring coffee from the Gaggia. The aroma of the freshly made Colombian made my nose twitch. A small thing, a cup of good coffee, but something I'd been deprived of for what seemed a lot longer than 24 hours.

I changed into a simple, short black skirt over my new cream bra and knickers. A yellow and white top with a small scalloped lace collar, then my favourite jade necklace. Somehow, just wearing familiar things made tears well up in my eyes. I might have been ready to move on from Cook (and heterosexual relationships in general), but I got a definite twinge then, thinking about all the times I had changed in this room before going out with my boyfriend. He was an idiot most of the time...a loud, cheeky, occasionally obnoxious idiot...but he was my idiot. Now he was locked up in a bleak cell because I'd broken his heart. Broken it for something that might already be gone.

I mopped my eyes with a handkerchief then applied some smoky eye make up. A touch of pale pink lippie and I was ready to face the world. Well, Rebecca and Max anyway. Emily would just have to wait. I just hoped she would be happy to see me.

When I got back into the lounge, Rebecca was standing by the window, a cup of coffee steaming beside her on the sill. Another full cup was on the coffee table. She was just ending a call on her mobile, so I hung back until she saw my reflection in the glass. She spun round and smiled at me.

"Wow...you scrub up pretty well Miss Campbell" she chuckled, looking me up and down, which made me blush "...you look amazingly better than you did a couple of hours ago?"

I grinned back. Its amazing how a shower and change of clothes can brighten you up. And I might be newly out, but a compliment from an attractive lesbian wasn't exactly hard to take either. I might be (OK am) besotted with a certain tiny brunette, but a girl likes to get the odd compliment?

"Not difficult...I looked like a scarecrows girlfriend" I said sarcastically and we shared a chuckle this time.

"Right, well coffee is on the table...don't worry about lunch, Max is bringing some pastries from the deli?"

Sounded good to me. Although I could have murdered something more substantial, I sort of knew the pastries would do fine for now. The deli across the street was famous for just being fabulous. I knew Max would know that too.

After we'd drunk two cups of coffee and I was feeling a whole lot better inside and out, there was a knock at the door. I started to get up, but Rebecca waved me back into my seat.

"Let me" she said with a serious expression "...just in case its a curious neighbour or worse, the press?"

I subsided with a sigh. Maybe she was right...but.

"B..but, it might be Emily?" I said hopefully.

"If it is, I'll bring her straight in...but you know we have to have a proper chat with Max about where we go from here first, don't you Naomi?"

I knew that...I knew that Max was about to deliver his invoice for services rendered and I didn't want Emily involved any more than she already was, so I nodded weakly.

"Yeah...I suppose you're right. But if it IS Emily…?"

Rebecca smiled again.

"Then in she comes!" she laughed "...can't keep the love of your life out in the cold, can we?"

I wish I could say that made me feel better. Love of my life? Well, I certainly think Emily qualifies for that title, but things could hardly be shakier on that front, now could they?

It wasn't Emily, but a letter from a courier. I wrinkled my brow in puzzlement. Who would be sending me couriered notes? I opened the thick envelope with fingers that fumbled in their haste to see inside.

Just a single sheet of expensive paper with a couple of lines of flowing script.

Naomi

Have taken Emily to France for a few days. Yes, really France this time. Sorry about Cook, but he always was a bad boy, wasn't he? Just a matter of time really. Anyway, I'm sure you'll be out by now and back at home. I'll take care of Emily from now on. But thanks anyway?

Effy

PS: She's mine Naomi.

The note dropped from my fingers as cold numbness spread through me. Dumped again, I thought miserably. Life shits on me from a great height as per.

Rebecca picked up the letter from the floor and scanned it quickly as I stared into space, paralysed by my misery.

"Oh" she said sympathetically

I suppose there wasn't much more to say, was there?

XXX

OK, longer chapter with a fair bit of angst for you to 'enjoy'

If I get reviews (hint) I might even get another chapter up early this week...just saying like?

Thanks for popping by.