Part Three
After watching her daughter being removed from court, Yvonne drove home without really knowing how she'd got there. She'd paced round the house, smoking too much and thinking, closely followed by Trigger's baleful gaze until three in the morning. For the life of her, Yvonne couldn't see how Lauren could possibly escape with anything les than the mandatory life sentence for murder. Lauren had killed Fenner, there was no getting away from that. A cold sweat ran over Yvonne every time she thought of that day, that Sunday afternoon when Lauren had come home carrying the tool of her trade, and with the earth from Fenner's grave all over her. She'd had that wild look of exultation in her eyes, the same look Charlie had always had after ending the life of some new enemy. Yvonne had drifted in and out of sleep for the last few hours that were left of Monday night, and had been up and out of the house in time to see her daughter plead not guilty. But now, back in the house they'd lived in since Lauren was three years old, Yvonne knew what she had to do.
"Jo Mills?" Came the husky confident voice on the end of the phone. "Jo, it's Yvonne Atkins." "Yvonne," Said Jo, not entirely surprised. "I wondered if I might be hearing from you." "Jesus," Said Yvonne in disgust, "Bad news really does travel fast." "Have you taken five minutes to read a newspaper this morning?" Jo asked gently. "No, because they'll all be saying the same thing. Jo, I need your help." "Do you want to come and see me so we can talk about this?" "If you've got time," Said Yvonne, and Jo could hear the pain that Yvonne was clearly doing her damnedest to cover up. "I had a client cancel for eleven this morning. Will that do?" "Thank you," Yvonne replied with heartfelt gratitude, knowing that Jo would do everything she could to help them.
Jo hadn't been in the least surprised to hear from Yvonne. It might have been three months since she and George had questioned Karen about Fenner's murder, but to Jo that all seemed like yesterday. It had taken a lot for Karen to tell her that Lauren had killed Fenner, and now here they all were, once again about to be turned inside out by the wheels of justice. but so much had happened since then. Jo had been brought face to face with the fact that George suffered from Anorexia, which admittedly Jo had taken in her stride, persuading George to unburden some of her innermost feelings. Jo had then come up with the idea that even now, even after quite a short time, was changing all three of their lives, hers, George's and John's. She knew John had taken advantage of their new arrangement, not because he'd specifically told her, she just knew. Jo was also forced to admit that not only was her uncertainty over John gradually beginning to recede, but that she and George were slowly forming a close friendship, something that, this time last year, Jo would have thought quite impossible. When she'd opened the newspaper on arriving at work this morning, Jo had been hit full in the face with the headline: "Lauren Atkins charged with the death of murdered prison officer James Fenner." She, like Karen, had also known this day would come, it had simply been a matter of time before she received the call from Yvonne Atkins.
When Yvonne brought the Ferrari to a stop outside Jo's office with a little less of her usual style, she was reminded of when she'd last been here. It had been on the day that Karen had first talked to Jo about mounting a case against Fenner. The irony wasn't lost on her that now she was here because of Fenner's murder. Yvonne had driven here in the Ferrari almost to give herself courage. The Ferrari had always been hers, never Charlie's. She couldn't bring herself to go near his silver Jag right now, and she doubted she ever would again after this. Charlie Atkins had a lot to answer for, even from beyond the grave.
As Jo stood at the end of the corridor in the doorway of her office, and watched as Yvonne followed the receptionist upstairs, she was presented with two immediate realisations. The first being that Yvonne had clearly just returned from somewhere far warmer and dryer than England, and that she looked utterly exhausted, dark circles under her eyes and lines of worry marring her usually attractive face. "Yvonne, come in," Jo said as they approached. She had been going to say that it was good to see her, but she bit her tongue just in time, realising that this certainly wasn't an appropriate form of greeting. "thanks for seeing me so quickly," Yvonne said as Jo closed the door behind her. "How are you?" Jo asked as they sat down, Yvonne in one of the chairs by the window and Jo in the one at her desk, turning it round to face Yvonne. "You look like you've been somewhere warm." "I was giving my villa in Spain a bit of company till I got Lauren's phone call yesterday lunchtime. Ritchie hadn't been at home for Christmas for years before he died, but this one just felt wrong without him. Sorry," She said, as if just catching up with what she was saying, "It's Lauren I'm hear to talk about, not Ritchie." "don't be," Jo said gently, realising just how thrown off course Yvonne must be feeling for her to talk about Ritchie, something Jo suspected Yvonne rarely did. "Is that this morning's paper?" Yvonne asked, seeing it face down on Jo's desk and wanting a change of subject. "Yes," Replied Jo carefully, "But I'm not sure you'll want to see it." "I might as well know the worst," Yvonne said matter-of-factly. Jo handed it over. After making a quick scan of the article on the front page, details to be found on further pages inside, she said, "Why are all journalists bastards?" "I think it comes with the job description," Jo said with a rye smile, remembering that time, not so long ago, when John had used the media to force the Lord Chancellor in to appealing against an obscenely light sentence in a case that had been bribed away from him. "But they've made out like she's already been convicted." "And you should know better than I do," Said Jo seriously, "That they'll have done that more because of who Lauren is rather than because of what she is accused of." "I'm kind of used to seeing my name in the papers," Said Yvonne, "But not Lauren's." "Tell me what happened yesterday," Prompted Jo, being reminded anew that she had to be extremely careful here not to betray the fact that she'd known for close on three months who Fenner's killer had been. Yvonne didn't know that Karen had given them Lauren's name, and Jo had to keep it that way. "Lauren got a visit from two particularly thick members of the law yesterday lunchtime. As it happens, I know both of them from the time they came round Larkhall trying to pin a death by nut allergy on me. That's probably why Detective Inspector Sullivan," She laid an emphasis of sheer disgust on Sullivan's title, "Took on this case. Lauren phoned me before they took her to the station, and as far as I'm aware, she didn't say anything to incriminate her. I stood in court this morning and watched her plead not guilty before being put on remand." "Yvonne, did she do it?" Jo asked, paying particular care to sound genuine. "Yeah, she did," Replied Yvonne regretfully. "I can't defend her knowing that." "Jo, I'm never going to say she didn't kill Fenner, I don't even think Lauren would seriously try to do that, but what I need you to understand is that I don't think she was entirely sane when she did it. I'll never forget that Sunday for the rest of my life. She strolled in to the house, casual as you like, with one of Charlie's favourite guns in her hand. There was this weird look in her eye, like she was high on something." "Was she?" "No, but I'd know that look anywhere. It scared the living daylights out of me because she looked exactly like Charlie used to when he'd done something like that. She was proud of it. She even told me that if I was a real Atkins, I'd be proud of her. It hurts like hell to have to say it, but sometimes Lauren's her father through and through." Yvonne stopped, suddenly thinking that she was saying too much. Jo stood up and began pacing, eventually ending up standing before the window, looking down on to the rain washed street. She knew that she was being given a view of a kind of life she knew absolutely nothing about. Jo knew little of Charlie Atkins, except that he had met his end on the steps of the Old Bailey, supposedly after a trial in which his wife, the woman sitting before her, had given evidence against her husband, not for him. "Yvonne," Jo said contemplatively. "Can you satisfy a point of curiosity for me. When you gave evidence in your husband's trial, why did you suddenly change your story at the last minute?" Jo had turned to face Yvonne when she said this, and now Yvonne just sat staring up at her. "He deserved it," She said simply. "I don't guess you know what it's like being married to one of the mob since the age of eighteen, but that was my way of breaking free of everything he'd put me through over the years. Now tell me why you asked," She said, swiftly skirting round what she'd done to Renee Williams. "Because I'm getting the distinct feeling that even though he's dead, Charlie Atkins has a lot to do with this." "You're probably right," Yvonne conceded. "I just wish I'd had more of an influence over my own kids," She said bitterly. "Maybe if I had, Lauren wouldn't be in this mess." Sitting down in the other visitor's chair, Jo lit a cigarette and offered one to Yvonne. "You're right," Jo said after taking a long drag. "I know absolutely nothing about being married to someone like Charlie Atkins, or what kind of an influence he probably had over you, as well as your children. So, enlighten me." "Before I do, how come you know so much about Charlie's trial?" "That trial prompted almost as much publicity as the Nikki Wade appeal, though for different reasons." "I was only eighteen when I married Charlie. I had Ritchie when I was twenty, and Lauren when I was twenty four. Charlie wanted more, but it didn't happen. I walked in to that marriage as starry-eyed and gullible as a twelve-year-old might have done. It didn't take me long to find out what Charlie was really like." Jo didn't miss the closed expression that came over Yvonne's face as she said this, a look to lock out any unwanted observer. "But, when you marry someone like Charlie, you're in for life. The only way you get out is in a coffin." Jo winced at these last words. "I'm sorry," Said Yvonne, "But that's how it was. Lauren must have been twelve when Charlie started teaching her to shoot, and Ritchie the same." Jo's eyes widened at this. "Yeah, I know," Yvonne said, interpreting her expression. "And you're probably wondering why I allowed my kids to be brought up like that. I probably ask myself that question at least once every day, even now, even now that Charlie's dead and I've kept to the straight and narrow ever since I got out of prison. But disagreeing with Charlie Atkins, especially when it came to the raising of his children, wasn't something I was ever going to do twice." At these words, and at the raising of every barrier behind Yvonne's eyes, Jo found herself wondering just how much torment Yvonne had gone through over the years, watching her children being taught the rudimentary skills of committing serious crime. Then Jo gasped as a memory struck her. Getting up from her chair, she walked over to the filing cabinets in the corner and began rummaging through a drawer, eventually emerging with the transcript of the Merriman/Atkins trial. Flipping through the initial pages, she said, "When you were on the stand last year, Brian Cantwell said something about Ritchie having once been threatened with being nailed to the warehouse floor." "There you are," Replied Yvonne, "That was Charlie Atkins for you. When Ritchie came to visit me in prison, we were talking about Charlie, and Ritchie said that his dad could charm the birds off the trees and then wring their necks. Just a shame that was a pretty good description of Ritchie as well." Dropping the transcript back in the drawer, Jo returned to her chair. "Once Ritchie left," Jo continued, "Did Charlie begin to treat Lauren as the son he no longer had?" "Right in one," Said Yvonne, clearly impressed. "When Ritchie died, he left two letters, one for me and one for Lauren. In the one he wrote to Lauren, he referred to her as Charlie Atkins protégé, and much as I'm ashamed to admit it, that's exactly what she was. Also in that letter, Ritchie left Lauren his one dying wish. He asked his sister to get rid of Fenner, because of what Fenner had done to Karen. It was Ritchie's way of trying to put right some of the bad things he'd done, but especially what he'd done to Karen in using her as a way of getting the gun in to Larkhall." Jo sat, utterly gob smacked, finally beginning to see the pieces of this very complicated jigsaw fitting together. "Jesus Christ," She slowly said, not a usual utterance for her. "I know," Said Yvonne in appreciation of the magnitude of the situation. "He asked me to take care of Karen, and he asked Lauren to kill Fenner. Ritchie even went as far as to tell Lauren that he didn't ask me to do it because he knew I wouldn't, and because I'd never been what he called a real Atkins." "I think you might consider that something to be proud of rather than something to regret." "I know, and I do. I just wish she'd told me. Maybe then I might have been able to stop her doing it and landing herself in the one place I never wanted her to go." "Yvonne, by the sounds of it, Lauren was determined to do this, and nothing you could have done would have stopped her." "Oh, and you'd think that if it was one of yours, would you?" "No, I wouldn't," Jo said quietly. "And I'd be doing everything in my power to help them." "That's why I'm here," Said Yvonne, "Because even if you decide that you don't want to touch this case with a barge pole, you'll still be able to give me some idea of where to go next." this seemed to bring Jo back to just why they were there. "Before I go any further," She said carefully. "Just how much are you implicated in this? Because the last thing Lauren needs is for you to be put on remand right next to her for destroying evidence and perverting the course of justice." "My fingerprints aren't anywhere near the gun she used, but then neither are Lauren's. When she came home that Sunday afternoon, I made her put everything she was wearing in the washing machine. Then I cleaned the gun before I got rid of it. So yes, if they catch up with me, I'm as up to my neck in it as she is, but there is absolutely nothing to tie me to anything she used that day, not the gun, the car, or the spade she used to bury him." Yvonne shuddered at the mention of the spade and Jo began to entertain the suspicion that there was something about Lauren's crime that went far beyond what Yvonne might once have been used to dealing with, something that frightened her to her core. "You said that you didn't think Lauren was entirely sane when she did this. Why?" "You'll know exactly why I think that if you talk to her. Only she can tell you what she did to Fenner. I made her tell me, but I can no more sit here and tell you that than I can get Lauren out of Larkhall. I might have been more angry with Ritchie than I've ever been in my life for what he did last year, but everything I know about him will never give me the kind of nightmares that this has." "Okay," Jo replied gently, thinking that this must be a first for Yvonne Atkins to admit she was afraid of something. "I'll go and see her. But I can't promise anything. If she really wasn't in her right mind when she killed Fenner, then the most I can do for you is to construct a defence of diminished responsibility, and that will take time and a very good psychiatrist." "Thank you," Yvonne said sincerely. "But if after talking to Lauren you can't continue with this case, I will totally understand. I'm not sure I'd want to take it on." "I've never yet been frightened away from a case, no matter how difficult it looked."
On the Tuesday afternoon, Yvonne drove in through the gates of Larkhall. All remand and unsentenced prisoners are entitled to a visit every day, unlike convicted and sentenced prisoners who are lucky if they get one a week. It wasn't ever supposed to be like this, Yvonne thought as she made her way to the visitor's centre. Lauren had always come to see her, and it should never have been the other way round. "I see you've been in the papers again, Atkins," Said Sylvia in greeting. "One word like that to my daughter and you'll be out on your arse," Yvonne said in an undertone, as Sylvia patted her down. "Is that clear?" "You want to watch your step, Atkins," Sylvia replied, "Or you'll end up banged up alongside your daughter." "Sylvia, cut it out, now," Came Karen's firm, not to be messed with voice, clearly having had quite enough of Sylvia's antics for one day. When Yvonne's old nemesis had moved on to someone else, Yvonne said dryly, "I see she's taken over where Fenner left off." "She's been itching to put the boot in all day," Said Karen as they walked over to the visiting room. "Has Lauren been acting up?" "You know how it is," Said Karen, trying to make light of it. "Everyone regresses slightly for the first few days." "If I thought it would make any difference, I'd apologise for her, but I don't think that's the last time I'll be apologizing for my daughter." "She's twenty four, Yvonne," Said Karen matter-of-factly. "Whatever Lauren's done is one hundred percent her responsibility, not yours."
When Yvonne sat down across the table from Lauren, she couldn't quite believe they were here like this, Lauren sitting in the chair usually reserved for the con. Lauren looked tired and out of sorts. "Hi Mum," She said as Yvonne leaned over to kiss her cheek. "When did you get back?" "Last night. Karen picked me up from the airport and I saw you in court this morning." "I did what you said. I didn't tell that wanker anything." "Good. Listen, I went to see a barrister about you this morning, Jo Mills. Do you remember her?" "The barrister who got Ritchie sent down?" "Yes, and if anyone can get you off, she can. She knows the basics, but you've got to fill her in on the details because I can't do that for you. She's going to come and see you some time this week, and you've got to tell her everything, and I mean everything. The only way to get the right help from someone like her is to co-operate. Are you listening to me, Lauren?" "Mum, I'm not fifteen, of course I'm listening. But if she knows I did it, how the hell is she going to get me off?" "Jo reckons that the only defence you might have is one of diminished responsibility." "Make out I'm soft in the head? You must be the one who's barking if you think I'm doing that." "Just grow up for five minutes," Yvonne said fiercely but quietly. "You are on remand for the most serious crime possible. If you don't co-operate with Jo Mills and do exactly as she says, you're going down for a very long time. There is absolutely no denying that you did this, Lauren, so you're only hope is to plead diminished responsibility. What you did, Lauren, it's not normal, it's mad stuff. If you wake up and smell the coffee, you'll know that as well as I do. Do you really want to go down for life? Is that what you want?" "No, of course not," Said Lauren in disgust. "Then start acting your age and for god's sake realise what a bloody mess you're in. You're on remand for murder, which means there isn't a hope in hell of getting you out on bail. If I know anything, it'll take something like a year before you get back in to court, so you're going to have to knuckle down and behave while you're in here." "Jesus," Said Lauren in quiet outrage, "That's rich coming from you." "You're not me, Lauren. You're a hurt, angry and confused young woman who right this minute is acting like she's twelve years old again. I mean it, just keep your nose clean and stay out of Bodybag's way. Who've they put you in with?" "I'm in a double cell on basic with Denny," Said Lauren miserably. "Well, that's good," Said Yvonne, sending up a silent word of thanks to Karen for doing this. "Denny will look after you." "As I told her this morning," Lauren hissed, "I don't need looking after." "Lauren, you might be an Atkins, and I wish with all my heart that you weren't, and you might be more capable than most of looking after yourself, but one thing you don't do in here is to throw an offer of help back in someone's face. You'll need every bit of support you can get." "All right," Said Lauren in adolescent defeat. "So, when's this barrister coming to see me?" "She said it would probably be in a couple of days. Lauren, when she does come to see you, you will be nice to her, won't you." "I don't believe I'm hearing this, Mum." "I mean it," Yvonne insisted. "Jo is going to do everything she can to help you, and I don't want you ruining the only opportunity you might have."
After watching her daughter being removed from court, Yvonne drove home without really knowing how she'd got there. She'd paced round the house, smoking too much and thinking, closely followed by Trigger's baleful gaze until three in the morning. For the life of her, Yvonne couldn't see how Lauren could possibly escape with anything les than the mandatory life sentence for murder. Lauren had killed Fenner, there was no getting away from that. A cold sweat ran over Yvonne every time she thought of that day, that Sunday afternoon when Lauren had come home carrying the tool of her trade, and with the earth from Fenner's grave all over her. She'd had that wild look of exultation in her eyes, the same look Charlie had always had after ending the life of some new enemy. Yvonne had drifted in and out of sleep for the last few hours that were left of Monday night, and had been up and out of the house in time to see her daughter plead not guilty. But now, back in the house they'd lived in since Lauren was three years old, Yvonne knew what she had to do.
"Jo Mills?" Came the husky confident voice on the end of the phone. "Jo, it's Yvonne Atkins." "Yvonne," Said Jo, not entirely surprised. "I wondered if I might be hearing from you." "Jesus," Said Yvonne in disgust, "Bad news really does travel fast." "Have you taken five minutes to read a newspaper this morning?" Jo asked gently. "No, because they'll all be saying the same thing. Jo, I need your help." "Do you want to come and see me so we can talk about this?" "If you've got time," Said Yvonne, and Jo could hear the pain that Yvonne was clearly doing her damnedest to cover up. "I had a client cancel for eleven this morning. Will that do?" "Thank you," Yvonne replied with heartfelt gratitude, knowing that Jo would do everything she could to help them.
Jo hadn't been in the least surprised to hear from Yvonne. It might have been three months since she and George had questioned Karen about Fenner's murder, but to Jo that all seemed like yesterday. It had taken a lot for Karen to tell her that Lauren had killed Fenner, and now here they all were, once again about to be turned inside out by the wheels of justice. but so much had happened since then. Jo had been brought face to face with the fact that George suffered from Anorexia, which admittedly Jo had taken in her stride, persuading George to unburden some of her innermost feelings. Jo had then come up with the idea that even now, even after quite a short time, was changing all three of their lives, hers, George's and John's. She knew John had taken advantage of their new arrangement, not because he'd specifically told her, she just knew. Jo was also forced to admit that not only was her uncertainty over John gradually beginning to recede, but that she and George were slowly forming a close friendship, something that, this time last year, Jo would have thought quite impossible. When she'd opened the newspaper on arriving at work this morning, Jo had been hit full in the face with the headline: "Lauren Atkins charged with the death of murdered prison officer James Fenner." She, like Karen, had also known this day would come, it had simply been a matter of time before she received the call from Yvonne Atkins.
When Yvonne brought the Ferrari to a stop outside Jo's office with a little less of her usual style, she was reminded of when she'd last been here. It had been on the day that Karen had first talked to Jo about mounting a case against Fenner. The irony wasn't lost on her that now she was here because of Fenner's murder. Yvonne had driven here in the Ferrari almost to give herself courage. The Ferrari had always been hers, never Charlie's. She couldn't bring herself to go near his silver Jag right now, and she doubted she ever would again after this. Charlie Atkins had a lot to answer for, even from beyond the grave.
As Jo stood at the end of the corridor in the doorway of her office, and watched as Yvonne followed the receptionist upstairs, she was presented with two immediate realisations. The first being that Yvonne had clearly just returned from somewhere far warmer and dryer than England, and that she looked utterly exhausted, dark circles under her eyes and lines of worry marring her usually attractive face. "Yvonne, come in," Jo said as they approached. She had been going to say that it was good to see her, but she bit her tongue just in time, realising that this certainly wasn't an appropriate form of greeting. "thanks for seeing me so quickly," Yvonne said as Jo closed the door behind her. "How are you?" Jo asked as they sat down, Yvonne in one of the chairs by the window and Jo in the one at her desk, turning it round to face Yvonne. "You look like you've been somewhere warm." "I was giving my villa in Spain a bit of company till I got Lauren's phone call yesterday lunchtime. Ritchie hadn't been at home for Christmas for years before he died, but this one just felt wrong without him. Sorry," She said, as if just catching up with what she was saying, "It's Lauren I'm hear to talk about, not Ritchie." "don't be," Jo said gently, realising just how thrown off course Yvonne must be feeling for her to talk about Ritchie, something Jo suspected Yvonne rarely did. "Is that this morning's paper?" Yvonne asked, seeing it face down on Jo's desk and wanting a change of subject. "Yes," Replied Jo carefully, "But I'm not sure you'll want to see it." "I might as well know the worst," Yvonne said matter-of-factly. Jo handed it over. After making a quick scan of the article on the front page, details to be found on further pages inside, she said, "Why are all journalists bastards?" "I think it comes with the job description," Jo said with a rye smile, remembering that time, not so long ago, when John had used the media to force the Lord Chancellor in to appealing against an obscenely light sentence in a case that had been bribed away from him. "But they've made out like she's already been convicted." "And you should know better than I do," Said Jo seriously, "That they'll have done that more because of who Lauren is rather than because of what she is accused of." "I'm kind of used to seeing my name in the papers," Said Yvonne, "But not Lauren's." "Tell me what happened yesterday," Prompted Jo, being reminded anew that she had to be extremely careful here not to betray the fact that she'd known for close on three months who Fenner's killer had been. Yvonne didn't know that Karen had given them Lauren's name, and Jo had to keep it that way. "Lauren got a visit from two particularly thick members of the law yesterday lunchtime. As it happens, I know both of them from the time they came round Larkhall trying to pin a death by nut allergy on me. That's probably why Detective Inspector Sullivan," She laid an emphasis of sheer disgust on Sullivan's title, "Took on this case. Lauren phoned me before they took her to the station, and as far as I'm aware, she didn't say anything to incriminate her. I stood in court this morning and watched her plead not guilty before being put on remand." "Yvonne, did she do it?" Jo asked, paying particular care to sound genuine. "Yeah, she did," Replied Yvonne regretfully. "I can't defend her knowing that." "Jo, I'm never going to say she didn't kill Fenner, I don't even think Lauren would seriously try to do that, but what I need you to understand is that I don't think she was entirely sane when she did it. I'll never forget that Sunday for the rest of my life. She strolled in to the house, casual as you like, with one of Charlie's favourite guns in her hand. There was this weird look in her eye, like she was high on something." "Was she?" "No, but I'd know that look anywhere. It scared the living daylights out of me because she looked exactly like Charlie used to when he'd done something like that. She was proud of it. She even told me that if I was a real Atkins, I'd be proud of her. It hurts like hell to have to say it, but sometimes Lauren's her father through and through." Yvonne stopped, suddenly thinking that she was saying too much. Jo stood up and began pacing, eventually ending up standing before the window, looking down on to the rain washed street. She knew that she was being given a view of a kind of life she knew absolutely nothing about. Jo knew little of Charlie Atkins, except that he had met his end on the steps of the Old Bailey, supposedly after a trial in which his wife, the woman sitting before her, had given evidence against her husband, not for him. "Yvonne," Jo said contemplatively. "Can you satisfy a point of curiosity for me. When you gave evidence in your husband's trial, why did you suddenly change your story at the last minute?" Jo had turned to face Yvonne when she said this, and now Yvonne just sat staring up at her. "He deserved it," She said simply. "I don't guess you know what it's like being married to one of the mob since the age of eighteen, but that was my way of breaking free of everything he'd put me through over the years. Now tell me why you asked," She said, swiftly skirting round what she'd done to Renee Williams. "Because I'm getting the distinct feeling that even though he's dead, Charlie Atkins has a lot to do with this." "You're probably right," Yvonne conceded. "I just wish I'd had more of an influence over my own kids," She said bitterly. "Maybe if I had, Lauren wouldn't be in this mess." Sitting down in the other visitor's chair, Jo lit a cigarette and offered one to Yvonne. "You're right," Jo said after taking a long drag. "I know absolutely nothing about being married to someone like Charlie Atkins, or what kind of an influence he probably had over you, as well as your children. So, enlighten me." "Before I do, how come you know so much about Charlie's trial?" "That trial prompted almost as much publicity as the Nikki Wade appeal, though for different reasons." "I was only eighteen when I married Charlie. I had Ritchie when I was twenty, and Lauren when I was twenty four. Charlie wanted more, but it didn't happen. I walked in to that marriage as starry-eyed and gullible as a twelve-year-old might have done. It didn't take me long to find out what Charlie was really like." Jo didn't miss the closed expression that came over Yvonne's face as she said this, a look to lock out any unwanted observer. "But, when you marry someone like Charlie, you're in for life. The only way you get out is in a coffin." Jo winced at these last words. "I'm sorry," Said Yvonne, "But that's how it was. Lauren must have been twelve when Charlie started teaching her to shoot, and Ritchie the same." Jo's eyes widened at this. "Yeah, I know," Yvonne said, interpreting her expression. "And you're probably wondering why I allowed my kids to be brought up like that. I probably ask myself that question at least once every day, even now, even now that Charlie's dead and I've kept to the straight and narrow ever since I got out of prison. But disagreeing with Charlie Atkins, especially when it came to the raising of his children, wasn't something I was ever going to do twice." At these words, and at the raising of every barrier behind Yvonne's eyes, Jo found herself wondering just how much torment Yvonne had gone through over the years, watching her children being taught the rudimentary skills of committing serious crime. Then Jo gasped as a memory struck her. Getting up from her chair, she walked over to the filing cabinets in the corner and began rummaging through a drawer, eventually emerging with the transcript of the Merriman/Atkins trial. Flipping through the initial pages, she said, "When you were on the stand last year, Brian Cantwell said something about Ritchie having once been threatened with being nailed to the warehouse floor." "There you are," Replied Yvonne, "That was Charlie Atkins for you. When Ritchie came to visit me in prison, we were talking about Charlie, and Ritchie said that his dad could charm the birds off the trees and then wring their necks. Just a shame that was a pretty good description of Ritchie as well." Dropping the transcript back in the drawer, Jo returned to her chair. "Once Ritchie left," Jo continued, "Did Charlie begin to treat Lauren as the son he no longer had?" "Right in one," Said Yvonne, clearly impressed. "When Ritchie died, he left two letters, one for me and one for Lauren. In the one he wrote to Lauren, he referred to her as Charlie Atkins protégé, and much as I'm ashamed to admit it, that's exactly what she was. Also in that letter, Ritchie left Lauren his one dying wish. He asked his sister to get rid of Fenner, because of what Fenner had done to Karen. It was Ritchie's way of trying to put right some of the bad things he'd done, but especially what he'd done to Karen in using her as a way of getting the gun in to Larkhall." Jo sat, utterly gob smacked, finally beginning to see the pieces of this very complicated jigsaw fitting together. "Jesus Christ," She slowly said, not a usual utterance for her. "I know," Said Yvonne in appreciation of the magnitude of the situation. "He asked me to take care of Karen, and he asked Lauren to kill Fenner. Ritchie even went as far as to tell Lauren that he didn't ask me to do it because he knew I wouldn't, and because I'd never been what he called a real Atkins." "I think you might consider that something to be proud of rather than something to regret." "I know, and I do. I just wish she'd told me. Maybe then I might have been able to stop her doing it and landing herself in the one place I never wanted her to go." "Yvonne, by the sounds of it, Lauren was determined to do this, and nothing you could have done would have stopped her." "Oh, and you'd think that if it was one of yours, would you?" "No, I wouldn't," Jo said quietly. "And I'd be doing everything in my power to help them." "That's why I'm here," Said Yvonne, "Because even if you decide that you don't want to touch this case with a barge pole, you'll still be able to give me some idea of where to go next." this seemed to bring Jo back to just why they were there. "Before I go any further," She said carefully. "Just how much are you implicated in this? Because the last thing Lauren needs is for you to be put on remand right next to her for destroying evidence and perverting the course of justice." "My fingerprints aren't anywhere near the gun she used, but then neither are Lauren's. When she came home that Sunday afternoon, I made her put everything she was wearing in the washing machine. Then I cleaned the gun before I got rid of it. So yes, if they catch up with me, I'm as up to my neck in it as she is, but there is absolutely nothing to tie me to anything she used that day, not the gun, the car, or the spade she used to bury him." Yvonne shuddered at the mention of the spade and Jo began to entertain the suspicion that there was something about Lauren's crime that went far beyond what Yvonne might once have been used to dealing with, something that frightened her to her core. "You said that you didn't think Lauren was entirely sane when she did this. Why?" "You'll know exactly why I think that if you talk to her. Only she can tell you what she did to Fenner. I made her tell me, but I can no more sit here and tell you that than I can get Lauren out of Larkhall. I might have been more angry with Ritchie than I've ever been in my life for what he did last year, but everything I know about him will never give me the kind of nightmares that this has." "Okay," Jo replied gently, thinking that this must be a first for Yvonne Atkins to admit she was afraid of something. "I'll go and see her. But I can't promise anything. If she really wasn't in her right mind when she killed Fenner, then the most I can do for you is to construct a defence of diminished responsibility, and that will take time and a very good psychiatrist." "Thank you," Yvonne said sincerely. "But if after talking to Lauren you can't continue with this case, I will totally understand. I'm not sure I'd want to take it on." "I've never yet been frightened away from a case, no matter how difficult it looked."
On the Tuesday afternoon, Yvonne drove in through the gates of Larkhall. All remand and unsentenced prisoners are entitled to a visit every day, unlike convicted and sentenced prisoners who are lucky if they get one a week. It wasn't ever supposed to be like this, Yvonne thought as she made her way to the visitor's centre. Lauren had always come to see her, and it should never have been the other way round. "I see you've been in the papers again, Atkins," Said Sylvia in greeting. "One word like that to my daughter and you'll be out on your arse," Yvonne said in an undertone, as Sylvia patted her down. "Is that clear?" "You want to watch your step, Atkins," Sylvia replied, "Or you'll end up banged up alongside your daughter." "Sylvia, cut it out, now," Came Karen's firm, not to be messed with voice, clearly having had quite enough of Sylvia's antics for one day. When Yvonne's old nemesis had moved on to someone else, Yvonne said dryly, "I see she's taken over where Fenner left off." "She's been itching to put the boot in all day," Said Karen as they walked over to the visiting room. "Has Lauren been acting up?" "You know how it is," Said Karen, trying to make light of it. "Everyone regresses slightly for the first few days." "If I thought it would make any difference, I'd apologise for her, but I don't think that's the last time I'll be apologizing for my daughter." "She's twenty four, Yvonne," Said Karen matter-of-factly. "Whatever Lauren's done is one hundred percent her responsibility, not yours."
When Yvonne sat down across the table from Lauren, she couldn't quite believe they were here like this, Lauren sitting in the chair usually reserved for the con. Lauren looked tired and out of sorts. "Hi Mum," She said as Yvonne leaned over to kiss her cheek. "When did you get back?" "Last night. Karen picked me up from the airport and I saw you in court this morning." "I did what you said. I didn't tell that wanker anything." "Good. Listen, I went to see a barrister about you this morning, Jo Mills. Do you remember her?" "The barrister who got Ritchie sent down?" "Yes, and if anyone can get you off, she can. She knows the basics, but you've got to fill her in on the details because I can't do that for you. She's going to come and see you some time this week, and you've got to tell her everything, and I mean everything. The only way to get the right help from someone like her is to co-operate. Are you listening to me, Lauren?" "Mum, I'm not fifteen, of course I'm listening. But if she knows I did it, how the hell is she going to get me off?" "Jo reckons that the only defence you might have is one of diminished responsibility." "Make out I'm soft in the head? You must be the one who's barking if you think I'm doing that." "Just grow up for five minutes," Yvonne said fiercely but quietly. "You are on remand for the most serious crime possible. If you don't co-operate with Jo Mills and do exactly as she says, you're going down for a very long time. There is absolutely no denying that you did this, Lauren, so you're only hope is to plead diminished responsibility. What you did, Lauren, it's not normal, it's mad stuff. If you wake up and smell the coffee, you'll know that as well as I do. Do you really want to go down for life? Is that what you want?" "No, of course not," Said Lauren in disgust. "Then start acting your age and for god's sake realise what a bloody mess you're in. You're on remand for murder, which means there isn't a hope in hell of getting you out on bail. If I know anything, it'll take something like a year before you get back in to court, so you're going to have to knuckle down and behave while you're in here." "Jesus," Said Lauren in quiet outrage, "That's rich coming from you." "You're not me, Lauren. You're a hurt, angry and confused young woman who right this minute is acting like she's twelve years old again. I mean it, just keep your nose clean and stay out of Bodybag's way. Who've they put you in with?" "I'm in a double cell on basic with Denny," Said Lauren miserably. "Well, that's good," Said Yvonne, sending up a silent word of thanks to Karen for doing this. "Denny will look after you." "As I told her this morning," Lauren hissed, "I don't need looking after." "Lauren, you might be an Atkins, and I wish with all my heart that you weren't, and you might be more capable than most of looking after yourself, but one thing you don't do in here is to throw an offer of help back in someone's face. You'll need every bit of support you can get." "All right," Said Lauren in adolescent defeat. "So, when's this barrister coming to see me?" "She said it would probably be in a couple of days. Lauren, when she does come to see you, you will be nice to her, won't you." "I don't believe I'm hearing this, Mum." "I mean it," Yvonne insisted. "Jo is going to do everything she can to help you, and I don't want you ruining the only opportunity you might have."