Part Ninety Five
On the Saturday evening, John had taken Jo out for dinner. He had spent some time thinking about all that George had said yesterday, and knew that Jo did deserve better. He just wasn't in the habit of having his misdeeds pointed out to him by George. If he'd done something wrong, he liked to find that out for himself, not have it rammed down his throat by someone who was only being so angry with him to hide her own guilt in the matter. He had felt a strong desire to make up for what Jo didn't know he'd done. Once they'd returned to Jo's inconspicuous little house, it hadn't taken them long to progress to what he knew he'd never failed at, except for last Tuesday when he hadn't been able to reduce George to her usual shuddering submission, but the less thought about that the better. Jo was as eager for him tonight as he was for her. They hadn't spent a night together since the previous weekend, and they were both heartily thankful that Mark, Jo's youngest, was out for the evening. But Jo soon realised that something was different about tonight. John utterly worshipped her, giving her body every little attention she desired. He didn't let her even consider returning the favour until he'd brought her to a gasping peak more than once. when he finally joined their bodies as one, she rode the waves of pleasure with him, thinking that she just might no the reason for his total devotion to giving her pleasure. He had never ever been lax in that department, but he did occasionally surpass himself, usually after he'd had either a one-night stand or a brief fling with some other woman and he wanted to make it up to her. Afterwards, as they lay close in her large bed, the words on the CD coming from the player on her dressing-table began to register with her. This was a new singer, someone Jo had heard recently and immediately taken a liking too. She had an almost child-like voice and sang a mixture of blues, jazz and soft love songs.
"How can you let me watch you sleep, then break my dreams the way you do.
How can I have got in so deep, why did I fall in love with you."
As Jo heard these beautifully haunting words, she gazed at John who had drifted in to a light doze. She was watching him sleep, and she thought that again, he'd broken her dreams. Jo knew that when it came to bed, she wasn't half as interesting and adventurous as probably George and most of his other women had been, but she'd never thought of herself as any the less sexually attractive because of that. She just didn't like to stray too far from the norm, that was all. But still he had to do it, he just had to go and sleep with someone else. For the life of her, she'd never been able to work out why. In those desperate, early days of their affair, when both of them had still been married, John had made her feel like a woman again, not just a wife to a terminally ill man or just a mother to his children. She couldn't explain why she loved John, but she did, more than she'd ever loved anyone in her life. Even though she was used to his sporadic infidelity, it still hurt her enormously every time. It always made her feel as if she simply wasn't good enough for him. The realisation that he must have been with someone else recently brought tears to her eyes. He must have sensed her pain, because his gentle hold on her slightly tightened.
"Who is she?" Asked Jo, knowing he was awake.
"I'm lost," He replied.
"You've never been lost in your life," Responded Jo, anger creeping steadily in to her tone. "Who were you trying to exorcise from your memory this evening."
"No one," He said, the half truth giving him the ability to look her in the eye. No matter how much both he and George might regret what had happened this last week, John wouldn't ever seek to banish its sweetness from his mind.
The song once again insinuated its way in to Jo's mind.
"How can you make me fall apart, then break my fall with loving lies.
It's so easy to break a heart, it's so easy to close your eyes."
Was that what she'd been doing all this time, keeping her eyes closed to his constant betrayal of everything she felt for him.
"Don't lie to me, John," Jo said firmly. "Don't you think I know you well enough by now to know when you're feeling guilty for something that you'd rather I didn't know?"
"Was I that bad?" He asked, knowing he wasn't but trying to distract her.
"No," She said, her voice taking on the flippant edge that he was used to hearing from George. "That's the point."
"Are you saying I usually am?" He asked in mock indignation.
"No, of course not. You were different, the way you are when you are trying to make up for something or someone." Knowing that further denials were pretty futile, he simply lay and held her, not liking the way he'd hurt her any more than she did. But women were just his one blind spot. The chase, the persuasion, the feeling of being loved by some random stranger, or in this case his ex-wife, provided a sexual frisson that just didn't exist in any long-term relationship.
"I love you," He said after a while. Jo laughed mirthlessly.
"You've got a bloody funny way of showing it sometimes." Then the words of the CD again caught her attention.
"You are the tiger burning bright, deep in the forest of my night."
The twisting round of the quote from Blake struck her as ironic, especially as Blake's title had been The Songs Of Innocence, Proverbs From Hell. Was her part in their relationship a song of innocence, and his infidelity a proverb from hell? She thought so sometimes. "That's what I used to think you were," Said Jo. "You've always made me feel whole, real somehow. But I can't go on like this. Something has got to change, John. Your sleeping with total strangers hurts like hell." The urge to confess to her that this hadn't been a total stranger was incredibly strong, but he fought to bury it. "It's the not knowing that hurts the most," Continued Jo. "I'm never sure that you won't find the next one far more appealing and let's face it, far more interesting in bed than I am."
"Have I ever said I don't find you interesting? Have I ever said I don't love everything about you?" He asked. "I've loved you for the last twenty odd years."
"Then why is it not enough."
"I don't know," He said quietly.
"Well, I suggest you start thinking about it, because I really don't know how many more of your little conquests I can put up with. I'm only human, John, and there's only so much uncertainty I can take." As he gently ran his fingers through her hair to ease away some of the tension, he wondered where they would all end up, the three of them, because this wasn't just about him and Jo any more, it was about George as well.
As promised, Karen and Yvonne were looking after Roisin's children. Karen had made them all homemade pizzas which went down a treat with Michael and Niamh. Michael had been perfectly happy to go to bed and continue reading Harry Potter, but Niamh had insisted on both Karen and Yvonne reading her a story. She'd fallen asleep in the middle of Yvonne's, and they'd left her to her dreams. Across the landing, Michael looked set in for at least another hour's reading.
"I might have to read that book if it's so good," commented Karen. Yvonne laughed.
"He's been itching to get back to it all evening." They went down stairs and took a bottle of wine in to Yvonne's lounge.
"They're good kids," Said Karen, lighting a cigarette.
"I remember the time Aiden brought them to see Roisin when she was inside," Replied Yvonne. "Cassie thought it was the perfect opportunity to enlighten Aiden as to their living arrangements, and he told Roisin that he wouldn't bring them to see her again. I think she'd really have gone under if they hadn't got out."
"Are you giving Snowball credit for something then?" Asked Karen dryly.
That's a twisted bit of logic for a Saturday night."
"I know. But if that bloody fire hadn't happened, and if Cassie and Roisin hadn't rescued Grayling, they'd still be inside now." Yvonne shuddered.
"And those two beautiful kids would be with her bastard ex-husband." They stayed quiet for a while, just listening to some soft music, until Yvonne asked,
"How did George Channing get on the other day? You never told me what happened." Karen roused herself out of the content, relaxed, after dinner drowsiness and grinned.
"Well, she was offered a gin and tonic by one of the Costa cons," Yvonne laughed.
"I take it she said no?"
"Yes, and she discovered that Julie Saunders' son goes to the same public school that her father used to attend. The look on her face was priceless."
"I bet. If anything could bring that one of her high horse, that would." "She's not so bad," Said Karen quietly. "It was interesting seeing her let down her guard."
"How do you mean?"
"She was horrified at the idea that all inmates are routinely given a psychiatric assessment, and she almost had a panic attack when she was presented with the tiny size of the Julies' cell. I think it was not being able to see out of the window because she's so small that did it. But to top everything off, Fenner disobeyed my order to keep Al out of the way, and George was, but for my intervention, almost attacked."
"Shit!"
"Quite. Grayling wasn't amused to say the least, though as usual it was me and not Fenner who got the dressing down."
"Grayling has to see what Fenner's really like. He can't keep getting away with shit like that."
"Oh, you know Grayling, he's got a total blind spot where Fenner's concerned."
"Yeah, it's called his dick. They're both as bad as each other." Then, Yvonne seemed to remember something. "Oh yeah, I bought you something yesterday." Karen looked intrigued. Yvonne walked over to her desk and dug about in one of the drawers, emerging with a small Waterstones bag. Handing it to Karen, Yvonne watched as she looked inside. Karen removed a hardback copy of the new Scarpetta novel by Patricia Cornwell, entitled Blow Fly. Karen smiled.
"Thank you," She said, pulling Yvonne back down on to the sofa to give her a long kiss. "I thought this was coming out fairly soon."
"Well, I figured that as you've got all the others in your bookcase, you'd quite like this one," Said Yvonne, kissing her back. "I was walking passed Waterstones and I saw an advert for it in the window. Look inside," She prompted. Karen opened the front cover and was greeted with the following inscription: To wile away all those hours when Body Bag gets too much for you. Karen laughed.
"I'll have to make sure I don't leave it on my desk, open at the front page." Karen put the book on the coffee table.
"I don't deserve you," She said softly.
"Of course you do," murmured Yvonne. "It's me who's incredibly lucky." After a while of simply being close with each other, Yvonne said,
"there's something I want to show you." She got up, and retrieved something from the top drawer of her desk. It looked like a letter. Yvonne handed it to Karen and simply gestured her to read. Karen was greeted by the familiar sight of a prison issue envelope containing the return address of Wormwood Scrubs. Thinking she knew who this must have been from, she removed the letter, also written on prison issue notepaper. She read in silence.
"Dear Mum,
You know why I'm writing this, because I'm too much of a coward to say it in person. Dad would be thoroughly ashamed of me, wouldn't he. No Atkins is supposed to take the easy way out, and all that. But I can't do it, Mum, I can't go on day in and day out like this. It's not prison, it's being like I am. So, I guess this is the first in a long list of things I'm supposed to be sorry for. The second being that you didn't deserve what I did. I am sorry I put you and Lauren through all that, but I had to do it. Snowball was the craziest girl I've ever met, but I loved her. I don't expect you to understand that, but there it is. I know I haven't been the kind of son you really wanted, but then I never could live up to everything you and dad brought me up to believe. Sure, I inherited all the shit parts of dad's nature, and not enough of yours, but Atkins family values just weren't for me.
I've written this letter, not only to try and put the record straight once and for all, but to ask you to do something for me. You remember on the second day of the trial, when Karen Betts was in the witness box, that stupid git who was representing us, tried to question Karen about a supposedly fake rape allegation. Mum, there wasn't nothing fake about that allegation. Fenner did rape her, I'm certain of it. There's things you learn about women, like what's normal, and what isn't, and the way she was with me that first night really wasn't normal, in any sense of the word. A woman asking you to be rough with her, that's nothing new, but this was different. I asked her afterwards what it had all been about, and she said she was laying a few ghosts. Mum, she was trying to punish herself for what had happened with Fenner. I'm guessing she thought it was her fault, but he's the biggest shit going and deserves nothing but a dose of the Atkins justice. You're probably wondering why I'm telling you all this. I've got to say it now, because after tonight, I won't ever get another chance. She was sat in the public gallery with you all through the trial. Mum, please take care of her for me. She's still hurting after what that bastard Fenner did to her, and she needs looking after. I ain't asking you to finish Fenner off, because I know you won't. But I need you to keep an eye on Karen for me. I hate what I did to her and to you, and I can't ever put any of that right. But if somehow, you can see that she's all right, I'll feel like I've at least tried to put something right.
I'm sorry I wouldn't see you when you asked to see me today, but I was angry. I couldn't handle the fact that you'd stood up against one of your own. But then, you never were a true Atkins. You were always above all that. Even though you did all that stuff for dad and brought me and Lauren up to follow in his footsteps, it wasn't really you. I've been losing control of everything in my life, probably ever since I met Snowball, and I guess this was my way of having a bit of control again. I'm sorry you didn't get to say whatever it was you wanted to say, and I'm sorry for every other bad thing I've ever done to you.
I love you Mum,
Ritchie."
Karen put the letter back in the envelope and handed it back to Yvonne.
"Could do with a testimony like that now," Karen said, on a mirthless laugh.
"I just wanted to show you that no matter how hard this case gets, because it is going to get harder, that I'm not the only one who believes in you. You've got another meeting with George on Monday, and I know that every time you see either her or Jo about this, you're questioning whether or not you should be going ahead with it."
"I think Ritchie got his intuition from you," Karen said, marvelling at both Yvonne's and Ritchie's sensitivity.
"Yeah, maybe he did, probably the one good thing I gave him."
"This has to succeed," Said Karen. "I've got to put Fenner behind bars for good. Not just for me, but for every other woman he's screwed up."
"I know" Said Yvonne gently. "But don't lose sight of the fact that he's always wriggled away in the past, and with a decent barrister, it's always possible he could do it again. When you see George, ask her about anything Ritchie might have said to her about you. You know that I believe you, because I've got no reason not too. But I think you need some kind of confirmation that someone else does, or did. Apart from Mark, who was too close to the situation to notice something like that, Ritchie was the only one who knew how you were with a bloke after Fenner. Just ask her. I doubt there's anything in any statement of his that could be used, but you never know."
"You're amazing," Said Karen, pressing her cheek against Yvonne's. "You didn't have to show me that letter. It was something personal from Ritchie to you. But you did. I'm not used to someone doing almost anything for me."
"Well, get used to it," Said Yvonne gently but firmly. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and nothing or no one, and especially not Fenner, is ever going to hurt you again as long as I'm around."
On the Saturday evening, John had taken Jo out for dinner. He had spent some time thinking about all that George had said yesterday, and knew that Jo did deserve better. He just wasn't in the habit of having his misdeeds pointed out to him by George. If he'd done something wrong, he liked to find that out for himself, not have it rammed down his throat by someone who was only being so angry with him to hide her own guilt in the matter. He had felt a strong desire to make up for what Jo didn't know he'd done. Once they'd returned to Jo's inconspicuous little house, it hadn't taken them long to progress to what he knew he'd never failed at, except for last Tuesday when he hadn't been able to reduce George to her usual shuddering submission, but the less thought about that the better. Jo was as eager for him tonight as he was for her. They hadn't spent a night together since the previous weekend, and they were both heartily thankful that Mark, Jo's youngest, was out for the evening. But Jo soon realised that something was different about tonight. John utterly worshipped her, giving her body every little attention she desired. He didn't let her even consider returning the favour until he'd brought her to a gasping peak more than once. when he finally joined their bodies as one, she rode the waves of pleasure with him, thinking that she just might no the reason for his total devotion to giving her pleasure. He had never ever been lax in that department, but he did occasionally surpass himself, usually after he'd had either a one-night stand or a brief fling with some other woman and he wanted to make it up to her. Afterwards, as they lay close in her large bed, the words on the CD coming from the player on her dressing-table began to register with her. This was a new singer, someone Jo had heard recently and immediately taken a liking too. She had an almost child-like voice and sang a mixture of blues, jazz and soft love songs.
"How can you let me watch you sleep, then break my dreams the way you do.
How can I have got in so deep, why did I fall in love with you."
As Jo heard these beautifully haunting words, she gazed at John who had drifted in to a light doze. She was watching him sleep, and she thought that again, he'd broken her dreams. Jo knew that when it came to bed, she wasn't half as interesting and adventurous as probably George and most of his other women had been, but she'd never thought of herself as any the less sexually attractive because of that. She just didn't like to stray too far from the norm, that was all. But still he had to do it, he just had to go and sleep with someone else. For the life of her, she'd never been able to work out why. In those desperate, early days of their affair, when both of them had still been married, John had made her feel like a woman again, not just a wife to a terminally ill man or just a mother to his children. She couldn't explain why she loved John, but she did, more than she'd ever loved anyone in her life. Even though she was used to his sporadic infidelity, it still hurt her enormously every time. It always made her feel as if she simply wasn't good enough for him. The realisation that he must have been with someone else recently brought tears to her eyes. He must have sensed her pain, because his gentle hold on her slightly tightened.
"Who is she?" Asked Jo, knowing he was awake.
"I'm lost," He replied.
"You've never been lost in your life," Responded Jo, anger creeping steadily in to her tone. "Who were you trying to exorcise from your memory this evening."
"No one," He said, the half truth giving him the ability to look her in the eye. No matter how much both he and George might regret what had happened this last week, John wouldn't ever seek to banish its sweetness from his mind.
The song once again insinuated its way in to Jo's mind.
"How can you make me fall apart, then break my fall with loving lies.
It's so easy to break a heart, it's so easy to close your eyes."
Was that what she'd been doing all this time, keeping her eyes closed to his constant betrayal of everything she felt for him.
"Don't lie to me, John," Jo said firmly. "Don't you think I know you well enough by now to know when you're feeling guilty for something that you'd rather I didn't know?"
"Was I that bad?" He asked, knowing he wasn't but trying to distract her.
"No," She said, her voice taking on the flippant edge that he was used to hearing from George. "That's the point."
"Are you saying I usually am?" He asked in mock indignation.
"No, of course not. You were different, the way you are when you are trying to make up for something or someone." Knowing that further denials were pretty futile, he simply lay and held her, not liking the way he'd hurt her any more than she did. But women were just his one blind spot. The chase, the persuasion, the feeling of being loved by some random stranger, or in this case his ex-wife, provided a sexual frisson that just didn't exist in any long-term relationship.
"I love you," He said after a while. Jo laughed mirthlessly.
"You've got a bloody funny way of showing it sometimes." Then the words of the CD again caught her attention.
"You are the tiger burning bright, deep in the forest of my night."
The twisting round of the quote from Blake struck her as ironic, especially as Blake's title had been The Songs Of Innocence, Proverbs From Hell. Was her part in their relationship a song of innocence, and his infidelity a proverb from hell? She thought so sometimes. "That's what I used to think you were," Said Jo. "You've always made me feel whole, real somehow. But I can't go on like this. Something has got to change, John. Your sleeping with total strangers hurts like hell." The urge to confess to her that this hadn't been a total stranger was incredibly strong, but he fought to bury it. "It's the not knowing that hurts the most," Continued Jo. "I'm never sure that you won't find the next one far more appealing and let's face it, far more interesting in bed than I am."
"Have I ever said I don't find you interesting? Have I ever said I don't love everything about you?" He asked. "I've loved you for the last twenty odd years."
"Then why is it not enough."
"I don't know," He said quietly.
"Well, I suggest you start thinking about it, because I really don't know how many more of your little conquests I can put up with. I'm only human, John, and there's only so much uncertainty I can take." As he gently ran his fingers through her hair to ease away some of the tension, he wondered where they would all end up, the three of them, because this wasn't just about him and Jo any more, it was about George as well.
As promised, Karen and Yvonne were looking after Roisin's children. Karen had made them all homemade pizzas which went down a treat with Michael and Niamh. Michael had been perfectly happy to go to bed and continue reading Harry Potter, but Niamh had insisted on both Karen and Yvonne reading her a story. She'd fallen asleep in the middle of Yvonne's, and they'd left her to her dreams. Across the landing, Michael looked set in for at least another hour's reading.
"I might have to read that book if it's so good," commented Karen. Yvonne laughed.
"He's been itching to get back to it all evening." They went down stairs and took a bottle of wine in to Yvonne's lounge.
"They're good kids," Said Karen, lighting a cigarette.
"I remember the time Aiden brought them to see Roisin when she was inside," Replied Yvonne. "Cassie thought it was the perfect opportunity to enlighten Aiden as to their living arrangements, and he told Roisin that he wouldn't bring them to see her again. I think she'd really have gone under if they hadn't got out."
"Are you giving Snowball credit for something then?" Asked Karen dryly.
That's a twisted bit of logic for a Saturday night."
"I know. But if that bloody fire hadn't happened, and if Cassie and Roisin hadn't rescued Grayling, they'd still be inside now." Yvonne shuddered.
"And those two beautiful kids would be with her bastard ex-husband." They stayed quiet for a while, just listening to some soft music, until Yvonne asked,
"How did George Channing get on the other day? You never told me what happened." Karen roused herself out of the content, relaxed, after dinner drowsiness and grinned.
"Well, she was offered a gin and tonic by one of the Costa cons," Yvonne laughed.
"I take it she said no?"
"Yes, and she discovered that Julie Saunders' son goes to the same public school that her father used to attend. The look on her face was priceless."
"I bet. If anything could bring that one of her high horse, that would." "She's not so bad," Said Karen quietly. "It was interesting seeing her let down her guard."
"How do you mean?"
"She was horrified at the idea that all inmates are routinely given a psychiatric assessment, and she almost had a panic attack when she was presented with the tiny size of the Julies' cell. I think it was not being able to see out of the window because she's so small that did it. But to top everything off, Fenner disobeyed my order to keep Al out of the way, and George was, but for my intervention, almost attacked."
"Shit!"
"Quite. Grayling wasn't amused to say the least, though as usual it was me and not Fenner who got the dressing down."
"Grayling has to see what Fenner's really like. He can't keep getting away with shit like that."
"Oh, you know Grayling, he's got a total blind spot where Fenner's concerned."
"Yeah, it's called his dick. They're both as bad as each other." Then, Yvonne seemed to remember something. "Oh yeah, I bought you something yesterday." Karen looked intrigued. Yvonne walked over to her desk and dug about in one of the drawers, emerging with a small Waterstones bag. Handing it to Karen, Yvonne watched as she looked inside. Karen removed a hardback copy of the new Scarpetta novel by Patricia Cornwell, entitled Blow Fly. Karen smiled.
"Thank you," She said, pulling Yvonne back down on to the sofa to give her a long kiss. "I thought this was coming out fairly soon."
"Well, I figured that as you've got all the others in your bookcase, you'd quite like this one," Said Yvonne, kissing her back. "I was walking passed Waterstones and I saw an advert for it in the window. Look inside," She prompted. Karen opened the front cover and was greeted with the following inscription: To wile away all those hours when Body Bag gets too much for you. Karen laughed.
"I'll have to make sure I don't leave it on my desk, open at the front page." Karen put the book on the coffee table.
"I don't deserve you," She said softly.
"Of course you do," murmured Yvonne. "It's me who's incredibly lucky." After a while of simply being close with each other, Yvonne said,
"there's something I want to show you." She got up, and retrieved something from the top drawer of her desk. It looked like a letter. Yvonne handed it to Karen and simply gestured her to read. Karen was greeted by the familiar sight of a prison issue envelope containing the return address of Wormwood Scrubs. Thinking she knew who this must have been from, she removed the letter, also written on prison issue notepaper. She read in silence.
"Dear Mum,
You know why I'm writing this, because I'm too much of a coward to say it in person. Dad would be thoroughly ashamed of me, wouldn't he. No Atkins is supposed to take the easy way out, and all that. But I can't do it, Mum, I can't go on day in and day out like this. It's not prison, it's being like I am. So, I guess this is the first in a long list of things I'm supposed to be sorry for. The second being that you didn't deserve what I did. I am sorry I put you and Lauren through all that, but I had to do it. Snowball was the craziest girl I've ever met, but I loved her. I don't expect you to understand that, but there it is. I know I haven't been the kind of son you really wanted, but then I never could live up to everything you and dad brought me up to believe. Sure, I inherited all the shit parts of dad's nature, and not enough of yours, but Atkins family values just weren't for me.
I've written this letter, not only to try and put the record straight once and for all, but to ask you to do something for me. You remember on the second day of the trial, when Karen Betts was in the witness box, that stupid git who was representing us, tried to question Karen about a supposedly fake rape allegation. Mum, there wasn't nothing fake about that allegation. Fenner did rape her, I'm certain of it. There's things you learn about women, like what's normal, and what isn't, and the way she was with me that first night really wasn't normal, in any sense of the word. A woman asking you to be rough with her, that's nothing new, but this was different. I asked her afterwards what it had all been about, and she said she was laying a few ghosts. Mum, she was trying to punish herself for what had happened with Fenner. I'm guessing she thought it was her fault, but he's the biggest shit going and deserves nothing but a dose of the Atkins justice. You're probably wondering why I'm telling you all this. I've got to say it now, because after tonight, I won't ever get another chance. She was sat in the public gallery with you all through the trial. Mum, please take care of her for me. She's still hurting after what that bastard Fenner did to her, and she needs looking after. I ain't asking you to finish Fenner off, because I know you won't. But I need you to keep an eye on Karen for me. I hate what I did to her and to you, and I can't ever put any of that right. But if somehow, you can see that she's all right, I'll feel like I've at least tried to put something right.
I'm sorry I wouldn't see you when you asked to see me today, but I was angry. I couldn't handle the fact that you'd stood up against one of your own. But then, you never were a true Atkins. You were always above all that. Even though you did all that stuff for dad and brought me and Lauren up to follow in his footsteps, it wasn't really you. I've been losing control of everything in my life, probably ever since I met Snowball, and I guess this was my way of having a bit of control again. I'm sorry you didn't get to say whatever it was you wanted to say, and I'm sorry for every other bad thing I've ever done to you.
I love you Mum,
Ritchie."
Karen put the letter back in the envelope and handed it back to Yvonne.
"Could do with a testimony like that now," Karen said, on a mirthless laugh.
"I just wanted to show you that no matter how hard this case gets, because it is going to get harder, that I'm not the only one who believes in you. You've got another meeting with George on Monday, and I know that every time you see either her or Jo about this, you're questioning whether or not you should be going ahead with it."
"I think Ritchie got his intuition from you," Karen said, marvelling at both Yvonne's and Ritchie's sensitivity.
"Yeah, maybe he did, probably the one good thing I gave him."
"This has to succeed," Said Karen. "I've got to put Fenner behind bars for good. Not just for me, but for every other woman he's screwed up."
"I know" Said Yvonne gently. "But don't lose sight of the fact that he's always wriggled away in the past, and with a decent barrister, it's always possible he could do it again. When you see George, ask her about anything Ritchie might have said to her about you. You know that I believe you, because I've got no reason not too. But I think you need some kind of confirmation that someone else does, or did. Apart from Mark, who was too close to the situation to notice something like that, Ritchie was the only one who knew how you were with a bloke after Fenner. Just ask her. I doubt there's anything in any statement of his that could be used, but you never know."
"You're amazing," Said Karen, pressing her cheek against Yvonne's. "You didn't have to show me that letter. It was something personal from Ritchie to you. But you did. I'm not used to someone doing almost anything for me."
"Well, get used to it," Said Yvonne gently but firmly. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and nothing or no one, and especially not Fenner, is ever going to hurt you again as long as I'm around."