Part Fifty Nine
On the Saturday morning, Cassie was woken by the sound of the phone from downstairs. When it looked like nobody else was going to answer it, she dragged herself out of bed and ran down to the kitchen where the cordless phone sat leering at her on the table amongst the surplus of empty glasses, ashtrays and cigarette packets of last night's vigil. When Cassie answered, she was treated to the tones of some bloke saying that he was the governor of HMP Wormwood Scrubs, and could he possibly speak to Mrs. Atkins.
"I'm sorry," Said Cassie, "But it isn't really a good time right now."
"It's about her son," Said this faceless individual. "We need a next of kin to come and identify the body."
"You don't believe in giving time for the news to settle in, do you," Said Cassie.
"I'm sorry," Said the governor, to Cassie's surprise really sounding it. "But the quicker we can get him officially identified, the quicker we can do the postmortem."
"Does it absolutely have to be a next of kin?" Asked Cassie, wanting to spare Yvonne as much as possible.
"Where we know one exists," Said Governor Bailey, "I'm afraid so."
"Okay, I'll tell her."
"It doesn't need to be immediately, it can be any time today."
Hating what she had to do, Cassie hung up and walked up the stairs. The clock in the hall was just chiming nine o'clock. She gently knocked on Yvonne's bedroom door, and on getting no answer pushed it open. Feeling for the light switch just inside the door, she turned on the dimmer to its lowest setting. As the light was still relatively soft, Karen and Yvonne remained dead to the world. Cassie took a moment to reflect on how complete, how right they looked. Walking over to the bed, she gently shook Yvonne's shoulder. As Yvonne turned over and in so doing disturbed Karen, Cassie said,
"Sorry to have to wake you, but there's just been a phone call you should know about." Yvonne rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
"Who was it?"
"The governor of Wormwood Scrubs," Said Cassie, feeling like she was about to bring all the necessities of an unexplained death down on Yvonne's head.
"He didn't hang about," commented Karen, squinting up at Cassie, sleepily realising why this phone call would have been made.
"What did he want?" Asked Yvonne, but thinking she already knew.
"He wants you to go and identify Ritchie's body, some time today." Yvonne took a couple of minutes to mull this one over.
"Okay," She simply said. Cassie perched on the side of the bed and took one of Yvonne's hands.
"I'm so sorry," Said Cassie, brief tears in her eyes.
"I know," Said Yvonne, giving her hand a squeeze, feeling like she'd cried herself out the night before. "Is Lauren all right?" She asked.
"She's still asleep," Said Cassie trying to bring her voice back under control. "She drank enough to float the QE2 last night, but she'll be okay."
"I'm sorry I left you to look after her," Said Yvonne.
"Hey, that's what mates are for. You concentrate on whatever you've got to do today, and leave Lauren to us. She'll probably spend today sleeping off the mother of all hangovers." Cassie realised she was babbling. She leaned forward and gave Yvonne a quick awkward hug. "We're all here for you, you know," Was all she said before going out of the room. Yvonne turned to Karen who simply held her, not really knowing what to say or do. After a while, she said,
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"Is that okay?" Asked Yvonne.
"I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't," Said Karen gently.
A while later, they were driving, in Karen's car, towards HMP Wormwood Scrubs. Lighting a cigarette, Yvonne asked,
"do you know the governor?"
"Only slightly," Replied Karen keeping her eyes on the road. "I've spoken to him at the odd conference here and there," She elaborated. Yvonne was quiet for a few minutes.
"What is actually involved in identifying a body?" She asked and Karen could hear the panic in her voice. She took Yvonne's hand but still kept her eyes on the road.
"You'll just see his face," Said Karen gently, trying to calm Yvonne down. "And all you'll be asked to do is to confirm that it is or isn't Ritchie." At Yvonne's continued silence, Karen asked, "Are you sure you want to do this now? We can always come back."
"No," Said Yvonne, sounding slightly more resolved to the situation, "The longer I leave it, the harder it'll be."
"Actually," Said Karen, turning in to Du Cane road, "I think seeing Ritchie is something you need to do, to verify that this is real."
"Maybe," Replied Yvonne. They pulled in to the visitor's car park and Yvonne said, "Do you mind waiting here for me?"
"Of course not," Said Karen, knowing that this was something Yvonne probably needed to do on her own.
As she was shown down the endless stream of dull, gray corridors, Yvonne barely took in anything. The brief glimpses she was given of male inmates involved in various pastimes hardly made an impression on her. Governor Bailey showed her in to the small prison mortuary. This wasn't real, she kept telling herself. Any minute now, someone would tell her this was all a mistake. But when she laid eyes on Ritchie's cold, lifeless form, she couldn't doubt it any longer. She gazed at his soft, slightly child-like face. In spite of all the bad things he had done, he still had the cheeky, winning features that had always got round her when he was little. In court, the last time she'd seen him, he'd looked cold, angry, as if he'd really expected to get off. But in death, he looked innocent again, like he'd never known any of the things his mother and father had taught him over the years. A lonely tear ran down her cheek for the loss of her first born baby. Even after everything he'd done to her, she'd have taken away every last painful word or feeling if it would have stopped him from taking that desperate way out. But feeling such a thing was futile now. Ritchie was dead, gone from her, and never again would she be able to hold him, and be the mother she ought to have been.
After formally identifying Ritchie's body, Yvonne followed the governor to his office.
"Do you have any idea how this happened?" Asked Yvonne.
"That's hopefully what the postmortem will tell us," Replied the governor. "But we think he overdosed on something." Yvonne knew better than to ask how an inmate had managed to get hold of any harmful drug inside, she knew enough about that from her time at Larkhall. The governor handed her a prison issue plastic bag clearly full of Ritchie's belongings. Yvonne briefly glanced inside to see a jumble of clothes, plus the discman she'd sent him. This had been the only thing Ritchie had ever asked her for during the last few months whilst he'd been on remand, this and a number of CD's.
"He was listening to music when he died," Said the governor gently. Yvonne picked up the Cd case that had been lying on top of the diskman. It was an album by Robbie Williams, Life Through A Lens. Flicking open the machine, Yvonne saw that the CD was still inside.
She signed all the relevant forms, thanked the governor, though she didn't really know what for, and walked out to the car. Karen was smoking, and flicked her cigarette out the window as Yvonne got in.
"Are you okay?" Asked Karen, mentally clobbering herself for saying such a thing. Yvonne gave her a watery smile.
"No," She said, "I'm not, but I will be." Yvonne went to put the bag of Ritchie's belongings on the floor by her feet, but she fished out the Robbie Williams CD case.
"The governor said he was listening to this when he died," She said, holding it up. As Karen stared transfixed at the album cover, a flood of memories seemed to overtake her. She could remember like it was yesterday, the hard muscle yet soft boyish skin of Ritchie's body. She could still smell the subtle aroma of his aftershave. But most of all, she could clearly remember the music he'd been playing on her last visit to that hotel suite.
"He was playing that CD the last night I spent with him," Karen said quietly.
They drove silently for some minutes. She could tell by Yvonne's expression that in time, she would recover from this. They were both emotionally exhausted. Yvonne, because the weight of grief and partial guilt is heavier than any other intangible feeling, and Karen, because giving the type of constant support Yvonne needed was draining reserves she never knew she had. All she was concentrating on was Yvonne, and every nuance of her silence. Observing a signpost warning of a bad car crash on one of the roads they had taken earlier, Karen automatically swung left and took a different route. Yvonne watched Karen's skillful hands on the wheel and let her mind wander. She didn't need to talk. That was the thing with Karen, simply being with her yet being silent gave her as much comfort as verbalising any of the things she was feeling. Their was a level of empathy from Karen that simply told Yvonne she was there for her. The rain that had started last night was proving everyone's assumption that the heat wave had finally given up. Yvonne felt that the weather reflected her mood. Were the skies crying for her in their own way, she wasn't sure. But it was as she was contemplating this fact, that Karen's sky fell in.
It was driving along that road that had done it. If she'd given any thought to their surroundings at all, she could possibly have avoided doing this. Karen saw it, looming up out of the rain, the true embodiment of all her worst nightmares. It was that road, that road from which she'd driven like a mad woman. That road that held the B and B where it had all happened. It felt like the realisation crept up on her in slow motion, but it took her only a matter of seconds to be plunged back in to that night of horror. Again she could hear him telling her she wanted it, again she could feel him holding her down. But the voice she heard above all wasn't Fenner's, it was Helen's.
"He's been playing you since day one, Karen. He's a misogynist bastard." And as she took in breath after deep breath to try and keep control of the situation, "You're too close Karen, you can't see it." Then, she was driving like she had done that night. The accelerator hit the floor and she roared away from the scene of her downfall. Karen's sudden increase in speed jerked Yvonne out of her musings. Looking at Karen's face to try and find out why they were suddenly tearing away like a bat out of hell, she was worried to see the glazed eyes and white face of someone reliving some horrendous torture. It seemed Karen didn't need to see where she was going, that journey had been imprinted on her memory for ever. But Yvonne soon realised that a Saturday lunchtime in the pouring rain was no time to be driving like that.
"Pull over," Yvonne said perfectly calmly. Then, on getting absolutely no response, she said, "Karen, pull over, now!" This was delivered in the voice that had shaken just about any of Charlie's lackeys in their shoes. Her tone of voice if nothing else must have penetrated Karen's frightened brain, because she turned in to the next side street and came to a stop at the side of the road. Karen leaned on the steering wheel and continued taking deep breaths. The tears were now coursing down her cheeks and her breath came in deep shuddering gasps. Yvonne took her shoulders and turned Karen to face her.
"It's okay," She said gently, still not knowing the reason for all this. "But you've got to calm down, because I don't want you hyperventilating on me." Karen's breathing soon turned in to sobs, which Yvonne could see she was trying her best to prevent. "Don't hold it back," Said Yvonne, undoing both their seatbelts and taking Karen in her arms, "Just let it all out."
They simply sat, Yvonne gently rubbing circles on Karen's back, soothing her in the same way she might a trembling dog or a frightened child.
"I'm sorry," Karen said, her sobs decreasing and her breathing returning to normal.
"That's okay," Said Yvonne still mystified. "You just scared the hell out of me, that's all."
"I think that's what's generally known as a flashback," Said Karen, reaching in to the glove compartment to find the box of tissues she always kept in there.
"What happened?" Asked Yvonne gently. Karen blew her nose.
"There was a house back there. You wouldn't know it was any different to any other house. I'd forgotten he used to live round here, so I wasn't expecting to see it." Then at Yvonne's still curious silence she went on, "It was where Fenner used to live, where he was living when..." She didn't seem able to finish the sentence. As Yvonne gently took her hand and began stroking it, something seemed to finally give way in Karen and suddenly she couldn't stop talking.
"I remember waiting till he'd fallen asleep to get dressed. Why is it men always fall asleep immediately afterwards? He woke up just as I was leaving. He really didn't know what he'd done to me. He tried to stop me getting in my car. I drove away from there then pretty much like I did today. When I told Mark what had happened the next morning, at first he was as nice as possible to me, until he realised I'd let things go as far as they had. He looked at me like I was a whore. He was the only one I thought might listen to me, and he made me feel cheaper than I already did." These last words were said with such bitterness that Yvonne winced. "When we drove passed that house," Continued Karen, all I could hear was Helen telling me he'd been playing me since day one. She was right, all along she was right and not once did I listen to her. I knew what he was like. I saw what was left of Shell dockley when he'd beaten the hell out of her, I'd read Helen's report of his sexual assault on her, but I still let the bastard kiss me. What kind of a thick slag does that make me?"
"Don't say that!" Said Yvonne vehemently, hating it when Karen referred to herself in this way. "It makes you human," She said more gently. "Don't you think I knew what Charlie was like? I was married to him for twenty-six years before I got sent to Larkhall. I knew every bad thing there was to know about Charlie, but it didn't stop a part of me loving him. There are too many things Lauren could tell you about the way he treated me occasionally, but I still stayed. It might be totally ridiculous, but it's what we do sometimes."
"I'm sorry," Karen said again, "You don't need this, today of all days."
"You didn't know that was going to happen," Said Yvonne softly, giving Karen a hug.
"but you need me to be strong for you, and I feel a total wreck."
"Listen," Said Yvonne, her cheek pressed against Karen's. "You were strong last night, and I know you will be again. I think we have to be strong for each other. Isn't that what this couple thing's supposed to be about?" Karen smiled shakily.
"Yeah, I suppose," She replied. "What do you want to do?"
"I think we should go back to yours," Said Yvonne, "And I think you should sleep for a bit. You look drained. Oh, and we're swapping right now because you're not doing any more driving today." Not being able to come up with a decent protest to this, Karen got out of the car and they changed seats. As Yvonne drove towards Karen's flat, she knew the only way Karen could begin to move on from what Fenner had done to her was to go after him with one of the best legal mind's she'd ever seen.
"Have you thought about what Jo said?" She asked casually, but nothing could fool Karen.
"We'll see," Said Karen, knowing Yvonne was right, but doubting that she could really pull it off. A while later when she was wrapped in her duvet and on following Yvonne's instructions, drifting towards sleep, she could hear the sounds of Yvonne making a cup of tea, and phoning to see how Lauren was doing. This made her feel slightly guilty, Yvonne should be with Lauren now, not her. but when she heard Yvonne quietly comment on the fact that Lauren was still sleeping off her hangover, she relaxed. She decided that she liked hearing Yvonne in her space. It felt natural somehow. She just prayed that Yvonne wouldn't quit now that she knew how much Karen needed her to stay.
On the Saturday morning, Cassie was woken by the sound of the phone from downstairs. When it looked like nobody else was going to answer it, she dragged herself out of bed and ran down to the kitchen where the cordless phone sat leering at her on the table amongst the surplus of empty glasses, ashtrays and cigarette packets of last night's vigil. When Cassie answered, she was treated to the tones of some bloke saying that he was the governor of HMP Wormwood Scrubs, and could he possibly speak to Mrs. Atkins.
"I'm sorry," Said Cassie, "But it isn't really a good time right now."
"It's about her son," Said this faceless individual. "We need a next of kin to come and identify the body."
"You don't believe in giving time for the news to settle in, do you," Said Cassie.
"I'm sorry," Said the governor, to Cassie's surprise really sounding it. "But the quicker we can get him officially identified, the quicker we can do the postmortem."
"Does it absolutely have to be a next of kin?" Asked Cassie, wanting to spare Yvonne as much as possible.
"Where we know one exists," Said Governor Bailey, "I'm afraid so."
"Okay, I'll tell her."
"It doesn't need to be immediately, it can be any time today."
Hating what she had to do, Cassie hung up and walked up the stairs. The clock in the hall was just chiming nine o'clock. She gently knocked on Yvonne's bedroom door, and on getting no answer pushed it open. Feeling for the light switch just inside the door, she turned on the dimmer to its lowest setting. As the light was still relatively soft, Karen and Yvonne remained dead to the world. Cassie took a moment to reflect on how complete, how right they looked. Walking over to the bed, she gently shook Yvonne's shoulder. As Yvonne turned over and in so doing disturbed Karen, Cassie said,
"Sorry to have to wake you, but there's just been a phone call you should know about." Yvonne rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
"Who was it?"
"The governor of Wormwood Scrubs," Said Cassie, feeling like she was about to bring all the necessities of an unexplained death down on Yvonne's head.
"He didn't hang about," commented Karen, squinting up at Cassie, sleepily realising why this phone call would have been made.
"What did he want?" Asked Yvonne, but thinking she already knew.
"He wants you to go and identify Ritchie's body, some time today." Yvonne took a couple of minutes to mull this one over.
"Okay," She simply said. Cassie perched on the side of the bed and took one of Yvonne's hands.
"I'm so sorry," Said Cassie, brief tears in her eyes.
"I know," Said Yvonne, giving her hand a squeeze, feeling like she'd cried herself out the night before. "Is Lauren all right?" She asked.
"She's still asleep," Said Cassie trying to bring her voice back under control. "She drank enough to float the QE2 last night, but she'll be okay."
"I'm sorry I left you to look after her," Said Yvonne.
"Hey, that's what mates are for. You concentrate on whatever you've got to do today, and leave Lauren to us. She'll probably spend today sleeping off the mother of all hangovers." Cassie realised she was babbling. She leaned forward and gave Yvonne a quick awkward hug. "We're all here for you, you know," Was all she said before going out of the room. Yvonne turned to Karen who simply held her, not really knowing what to say or do. After a while, she said,
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"Is that okay?" Asked Yvonne.
"I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't," Said Karen gently.
A while later, they were driving, in Karen's car, towards HMP Wormwood Scrubs. Lighting a cigarette, Yvonne asked,
"do you know the governor?"
"Only slightly," Replied Karen keeping her eyes on the road. "I've spoken to him at the odd conference here and there," She elaborated. Yvonne was quiet for a few minutes.
"What is actually involved in identifying a body?" She asked and Karen could hear the panic in her voice. She took Yvonne's hand but still kept her eyes on the road.
"You'll just see his face," Said Karen gently, trying to calm Yvonne down. "And all you'll be asked to do is to confirm that it is or isn't Ritchie." At Yvonne's continued silence, Karen asked, "Are you sure you want to do this now? We can always come back."
"No," Said Yvonne, sounding slightly more resolved to the situation, "The longer I leave it, the harder it'll be."
"Actually," Said Karen, turning in to Du Cane road, "I think seeing Ritchie is something you need to do, to verify that this is real."
"Maybe," Replied Yvonne. They pulled in to the visitor's car park and Yvonne said, "Do you mind waiting here for me?"
"Of course not," Said Karen, knowing that this was something Yvonne probably needed to do on her own.
As she was shown down the endless stream of dull, gray corridors, Yvonne barely took in anything. The brief glimpses she was given of male inmates involved in various pastimes hardly made an impression on her. Governor Bailey showed her in to the small prison mortuary. This wasn't real, she kept telling herself. Any minute now, someone would tell her this was all a mistake. But when she laid eyes on Ritchie's cold, lifeless form, she couldn't doubt it any longer. She gazed at his soft, slightly child-like face. In spite of all the bad things he had done, he still had the cheeky, winning features that had always got round her when he was little. In court, the last time she'd seen him, he'd looked cold, angry, as if he'd really expected to get off. But in death, he looked innocent again, like he'd never known any of the things his mother and father had taught him over the years. A lonely tear ran down her cheek for the loss of her first born baby. Even after everything he'd done to her, she'd have taken away every last painful word or feeling if it would have stopped him from taking that desperate way out. But feeling such a thing was futile now. Ritchie was dead, gone from her, and never again would she be able to hold him, and be the mother she ought to have been.
After formally identifying Ritchie's body, Yvonne followed the governor to his office.
"Do you have any idea how this happened?" Asked Yvonne.
"That's hopefully what the postmortem will tell us," Replied the governor. "But we think he overdosed on something." Yvonne knew better than to ask how an inmate had managed to get hold of any harmful drug inside, she knew enough about that from her time at Larkhall. The governor handed her a prison issue plastic bag clearly full of Ritchie's belongings. Yvonne briefly glanced inside to see a jumble of clothes, plus the discman she'd sent him. This had been the only thing Ritchie had ever asked her for during the last few months whilst he'd been on remand, this and a number of CD's.
"He was listening to music when he died," Said the governor gently. Yvonne picked up the Cd case that had been lying on top of the diskman. It was an album by Robbie Williams, Life Through A Lens. Flicking open the machine, Yvonne saw that the CD was still inside.
She signed all the relevant forms, thanked the governor, though she didn't really know what for, and walked out to the car. Karen was smoking, and flicked her cigarette out the window as Yvonne got in.
"Are you okay?" Asked Karen, mentally clobbering herself for saying such a thing. Yvonne gave her a watery smile.
"No," She said, "I'm not, but I will be." Yvonne went to put the bag of Ritchie's belongings on the floor by her feet, but she fished out the Robbie Williams CD case.
"The governor said he was listening to this when he died," She said, holding it up. As Karen stared transfixed at the album cover, a flood of memories seemed to overtake her. She could remember like it was yesterday, the hard muscle yet soft boyish skin of Ritchie's body. She could still smell the subtle aroma of his aftershave. But most of all, she could clearly remember the music he'd been playing on her last visit to that hotel suite.
"He was playing that CD the last night I spent with him," Karen said quietly.
They drove silently for some minutes. She could tell by Yvonne's expression that in time, she would recover from this. They were both emotionally exhausted. Yvonne, because the weight of grief and partial guilt is heavier than any other intangible feeling, and Karen, because giving the type of constant support Yvonne needed was draining reserves she never knew she had. All she was concentrating on was Yvonne, and every nuance of her silence. Observing a signpost warning of a bad car crash on one of the roads they had taken earlier, Karen automatically swung left and took a different route. Yvonne watched Karen's skillful hands on the wheel and let her mind wander. She didn't need to talk. That was the thing with Karen, simply being with her yet being silent gave her as much comfort as verbalising any of the things she was feeling. Their was a level of empathy from Karen that simply told Yvonne she was there for her. The rain that had started last night was proving everyone's assumption that the heat wave had finally given up. Yvonne felt that the weather reflected her mood. Were the skies crying for her in their own way, she wasn't sure. But it was as she was contemplating this fact, that Karen's sky fell in.
It was driving along that road that had done it. If she'd given any thought to their surroundings at all, she could possibly have avoided doing this. Karen saw it, looming up out of the rain, the true embodiment of all her worst nightmares. It was that road, that road from which she'd driven like a mad woman. That road that held the B and B where it had all happened. It felt like the realisation crept up on her in slow motion, but it took her only a matter of seconds to be plunged back in to that night of horror. Again she could hear him telling her she wanted it, again she could feel him holding her down. But the voice she heard above all wasn't Fenner's, it was Helen's.
"He's been playing you since day one, Karen. He's a misogynist bastard." And as she took in breath after deep breath to try and keep control of the situation, "You're too close Karen, you can't see it." Then, she was driving like she had done that night. The accelerator hit the floor and she roared away from the scene of her downfall. Karen's sudden increase in speed jerked Yvonne out of her musings. Looking at Karen's face to try and find out why they were suddenly tearing away like a bat out of hell, she was worried to see the glazed eyes and white face of someone reliving some horrendous torture. It seemed Karen didn't need to see where she was going, that journey had been imprinted on her memory for ever. But Yvonne soon realised that a Saturday lunchtime in the pouring rain was no time to be driving like that.
"Pull over," Yvonne said perfectly calmly. Then, on getting absolutely no response, she said, "Karen, pull over, now!" This was delivered in the voice that had shaken just about any of Charlie's lackeys in their shoes. Her tone of voice if nothing else must have penetrated Karen's frightened brain, because she turned in to the next side street and came to a stop at the side of the road. Karen leaned on the steering wheel and continued taking deep breaths. The tears were now coursing down her cheeks and her breath came in deep shuddering gasps. Yvonne took her shoulders and turned Karen to face her.
"It's okay," She said gently, still not knowing the reason for all this. "But you've got to calm down, because I don't want you hyperventilating on me." Karen's breathing soon turned in to sobs, which Yvonne could see she was trying her best to prevent. "Don't hold it back," Said Yvonne, undoing both their seatbelts and taking Karen in her arms, "Just let it all out."
They simply sat, Yvonne gently rubbing circles on Karen's back, soothing her in the same way she might a trembling dog or a frightened child.
"I'm sorry," Karen said, her sobs decreasing and her breathing returning to normal.
"That's okay," Said Yvonne still mystified. "You just scared the hell out of me, that's all."
"I think that's what's generally known as a flashback," Said Karen, reaching in to the glove compartment to find the box of tissues she always kept in there.
"What happened?" Asked Yvonne gently. Karen blew her nose.
"There was a house back there. You wouldn't know it was any different to any other house. I'd forgotten he used to live round here, so I wasn't expecting to see it." Then at Yvonne's still curious silence she went on, "It was where Fenner used to live, where he was living when..." She didn't seem able to finish the sentence. As Yvonne gently took her hand and began stroking it, something seemed to finally give way in Karen and suddenly she couldn't stop talking.
"I remember waiting till he'd fallen asleep to get dressed. Why is it men always fall asleep immediately afterwards? He woke up just as I was leaving. He really didn't know what he'd done to me. He tried to stop me getting in my car. I drove away from there then pretty much like I did today. When I told Mark what had happened the next morning, at first he was as nice as possible to me, until he realised I'd let things go as far as they had. He looked at me like I was a whore. He was the only one I thought might listen to me, and he made me feel cheaper than I already did." These last words were said with such bitterness that Yvonne winced. "When we drove passed that house," Continued Karen, all I could hear was Helen telling me he'd been playing me since day one. She was right, all along she was right and not once did I listen to her. I knew what he was like. I saw what was left of Shell dockley when he'd beaten the hell out of her, I'd read Helen's report of his sexual assault on her, but I still let the bastard kiss me. What kind of a thick slag does that make me?"
"Don't say that!" Said Yvonne vehemently, hating it when Karen referred to herself in this way. "It makes you human," She said more gently. "Don't you think I knew what Charlie was like? I was married to him for twenty-six years before I got sent to Larkhall. I knew every bad thing there was to know about Charlie, but it didn't stop a part of me loving him. There are too many things Lauren could tell you about the way he treated me occasionally, but I still stayed. It might be totally ridiculous, but it's what we do sometimes."
"I'm sorry," Karen said again, "You don't need this, today of all days."
"You didn't know that was going to happen," Said Yvonne softly, giving Karen a hug.
"but you need me to be strong for you, and I feel a total wreck."
"Listen," Said Yvonne, her cheek pressed against Karen's. "You were strong last night, and I know you will be again. I think we have to be strong for each other. Isn't that what this couple thing's supposed to be about?" Karen smiled shakily.
"Yeah, I suppose," She replied. "What do you want to do?"
"I think we should go back to yours," Said Yvonne, "And I think you should sleep for a bit. You look drained. Oh, and we're swapping right now because you're not doing any more driving today." Not being able to come up with a decent protest to this, Karen got out of the car and they changed seats. As Yvonne drove towards Karen's flat, she knew the only way Karen could begin to move on from what Fenner had done to her was to go after him with one of the best legal mind's she'd ever seen.
"Have you thought about what Jo said?" She asked casually, but nothing could fool Karen.
"We'll see," Said Karen, knowing Yvonne was right, but doubting that she could really pull it off. A while later when she was wrapped in her duvet and on following Yvonne's instructions, drifting towards sleep, she could hear the sounds of Yvonne making a cup of tea, and phoning to see how Lauren was doing. This made her feel slightly guilty, Yvonne should be with Lauren now, not her. but when she heard Yvonne quietly comment on the fact that Lauren was still sleeping off her hangover, she relaxed. She decided that she liked hearing Yvonne in her space. It felt natural somehow. She just prayed that Yvonne wouldn't quit now that she knew how much Karen needed her to stay.