Part Thirty Eight
Normally, George was not a morning person and resented any external intrusions. Left to herself, she craved the gradual process of coming to life until the moment of decision was right for her first cigarette and to climb out of bed. Unfortunately, this desire clashed with the relentless move of the clock hands round the dial and her desire to face the world only at her best, and the result was her bad temper. Today, George's eyelid opened a fraction of an inch and an intense pure white sensation dazzled her. The bed seemed strangely different and so she rolled over to investigate. Both eyes blinked open and shut several times and she found the difference. Leaning elegantly on her hand was the full-breasted shapeliness of a wondrous vision, which was Karen. It quite took her breath away.
"Tired, sweetheart?" That uniquely husky voice insinuated its way into George's appetite for sensuous pleasure in all its little ways. She had never woken up next to another woman before last weekend, and this sensation was excitingly different. She stretched out her arms to receive Karen's good morning kiss and the feel of her arms round her cotton-covered shoulders.
"I'm much worse than this as a rule. I don't know which is worse," mumbled George sleepily, "That wretched alarm clock or John being disgustingly cheerful in the morning." The irritating bleeping of the bedside alarm clock made George's point and she leaned over Karen, stretched out an arm and blindly pressed the general area at the top of the clock with an assortment of fingers. Mercifully, the sound was killed. As George's energy was spent, she lay sprawled across Karen incapable of moving but not wanting to anyway.
"Please tell me it's the weekend, Karen, and we can lie in bed?" George called out, hoping against hope but knowing that Karen was going to shake her head. She felt different today as her thoughts started to take shape, somehow cleansed after opening herself up to telling the unmentionable about Charlie, and removed by the night from that experience. "I've got to go into Larkhall, nip in to give Denny Blood a pep talk and head on to court. Still, if you get up now, you can always join me in the shower," Karen's seductive voice dispelled the last of the cotton wool in George's thoughts. That definitely made it easier to get moving out of bed.
"So you've called me in to tell me that you're coming to court as well, Miss Betts?" "Yes, Denny. You'll see me in the visitor's gallery along with a lot of familiar faces." She knew that she was due in court today but was worried by the last minute call to see Miss Betts. In her experience, such last minute messages with no apparent reasons for them meant bad news. That fear that what she really wanted out of life was suddenly going to be taken away. Instead, Karen smiled benevolently as she faced the suddenly excited girl, whose grin lit up her face with innocence. It transformed Denny's whole appearance, as much on other occasions when her scowl threatened anger and possible violence. "I'll tell it like it is for Lauren's sake, and if that wanker of a brief gives me any grief, I'll give it back twice over. He'd better watch out for me." Karen dare not let herself be swept along by Denny's fresh faced enthusiasm. By now, she had been immersed in the process of law operated, in and out of court, and didn't want to see Denny walking into the sort of trap that Neumann Mason-Alan was capable of setting for her.
"Make sure you stick to the facts, Denny. Make perfectly sure of what you know and take your time when you speak. I've been up on the stand when Snowball Merriman and Ritchie Atkins were on trial and, believe you me, it's no picnic." Denny listened to the concerned tone of the Wing Governor sitting on the opposite side of her desk. This wasn't some screw being stuck up and superior, treating her like some sort of an idiot. This was an older woman's voice of experience telling her very kindly for her own good.
"Which screws are taking me and Lauren?" she said at last.
"I've allocated Mr. McAllister and Miss Geeson to do escort duty for you and Lauren. That suit you?" "Wicked," Denny grinned. She couldn't have done better if she had a chance to pick the screws to go with her. They were dead fair and straight up. That removed the last little niggling worry from her mind. "You've not been out since I took you to Yvonne's house. Just don't let it go to your head." Karen's final advice was softened by the memory of that far off day when the handcuffs of her trade were loosely carried that day and everything was soft and golden. Her life was more complicated these days but, at least, she had her work to keep her focussed and on track.
Denny lounged in the back seat of the car, grinning widely as if she were going on a Sunday treat. It was so long ago since she had seen the other side of the high wooden gates that Denny's impressions of her visit to Yvonne's house didn't seem real. They were like a disconnected series of images out of a celebrity magazine. Only the memory of Yvonne's voice, sometimes tender, sometimes joking, stayed with her for always. Memories could fade but not that indefinable feel of Yvonne's maternal care. If it weren't for her, she would still be that vicious bitch who thought she was so hard and who delighted in hurting other women. As they set off outside the gates, she looked all around her. The world raced past her windows at a frenetic pace. Everything seemed unbearably vivid and cars rushed dangerously close to her. Everyone must be bleeding Superman or Catwoman to survive in this madhouse. Only the inside of the car seemed to stay in one place and she felt anchored down by it.
Lauren was tired out and, even waiting interminably while Karen checked them through the gatehouse security, her head lolled sideways against Dominic's shoulder. After months of relative nothingness, Lauren had endured day after day of all out mental concentration, which had ground her down. She didn't know what was worse, standing impassively as an observer while her past was laid out for all to see, or the traumatic confrontation where she fought for her idea of who she was and, therefore, her sanity. Now she was numb to everything, content to be led where others saw fit. In the cuckoon like shell of the car, the outside world moved lazily along in a disconnected way and she felt temporarily safe with those who were with her.
Denny took her place in the witness box and, flanked by Dominic, she glanced up at the gallery. A huge smile split her face. Jesus, the best of the screws and all the old lags from Larkhall were lined up in a row, Nikki, Miss Stewart, Crystal, Yvonne, Roisin, Cassie, Babs, Miss Betts as promised and that new bird of hers, George or better known to me as Posh Bitch. All of them smiled at her as if she were at a birthday treat. That was something she didn't get every day and made her feel better. She remembered the day when this nice lady who she'd seen before, talked to her about the trial. She'd introduced herself as Jo, shaken her firmly by her hand and put her at her ease. Anyone else would have pissed her off, banging on about one thing after another as if she was a liar or an idiot.
"Miss Blood, when did you first meet Mrs. Atkins, and how did you come to know her?" Jo asked her.
"Yvonne?" she questioned, momentarily puzzled. "It was soon after she first came to Larkhall….." "…..and when was this?" Denny's forehead was furrowed by a series of frown lines as she racked her memory in an environment when days, weeks, months and years all flowed into each other. Finally, she remembered all that bollocks about the millennium and could pinpoint it that Yvonne had arrived just before Halloween. That made it October 1999. Jesus, she first knew Yvonne Atkins in the last bleeding century. "I think it was October 1999, Miss," Denny said at last.
"Can you describe for the benefit of the court, exactly what your relationship with Mrs. Atkins was like?" "She was my second mother. There wasn't anyone closer to me than her when I first knew her." "Can you explain for the benefit of the jury, a bit about your background and, in particular, why you call Mrs. Atkins your second mother?" "My real mother was an alki. I got taken into care when I was eight when my mother was out somewhere, getting drunk. I ended up in a children's home. You have to be hard and tough going through all that. Larkhall is only the next stage up…….." "What sort of contact did you have with your real mother after that?" Jo asked softly. "She was too busy getting drunk for me or anything else. I never heard nothing from her till she got taken in for being drunk and disorderly and even then, she didn't recognise me. 'Too much trouble, having kids", that's what she told me once. She'd forgotten that she'd even had a kid. I had to push my face right up close and hold a knife to her throat before she remembered me….." The zigzag tattoo that ran round Denny's neck was as jagged and razor edged as the words she came out with. Nikki and Helen felt highly uncomfortable as their negative family experiences were nothing in comparison. It also hit them hard that Denny's father was this terrifying hole in her existence.
"……….She let me down time and time again while she was in prison, all big promises and doing nothing about them." "So how different was Yvonne?" Denny's face suddenly smiled openly. "Yvonne was a good laugh and dead generous from the word go. Everyone noticed her. First thing she did was to get a load of guitars shipped in and we did this thing, right, all of us singing this song called "Kumbaya". The head screw had stopped visits to all the women on G Wing, and we wanted to put pressure on them to change their minds. She didn't do this for herself, she did it for all the girls. That's Yvonne all over………… I always knew she was there to have a shoulder that I could cry on. She was someone who'd tell me things straight without telling me a load of bollocks, sorry sir. She could make me laugh and that ain't easy sometimes. She never let me down. Sounds like a mother, doesn't it?" A sudden rush of raw emotion suddenly swept through Jo, so that she took deep breaths in and out. Yes, that sounds exactly like what mothers do. "It wasn't just me, but she did the same for other women like my girlfriend, Shaz Wiley. I was the closest to her of all those in Larkhall………" "If I might be allowed to put in a word here. I am also waiting to see if the witness is going to give evidence directly about the defendant. I am also asking if my learned friend intends to subject the court to a multitude of anecdotes of good deeds that the mother of the defendant is alleged to have done? If so, I would most certainly raise a point of law, for the simple reason that such 'evidence' would be third hand and the validity of such 'evidence' would be impossible to test, apart from simply calling the witness a liar." Neumann Mason-Alan's heavy-duty sarcasm was aimed to crush what he saw as this ill educated, inarticulate, not very attractive witness, dressed in outlandish clothes. "I thank you for your advice, Mr. Mason-Alan. It does seem a reasonable point, Mrs, Mills." "I was not intending to question the witness in the way described, for the reasons my learned friend outlines. I would argue most forcibly that the witness's own direct experience of Mrs. Atkins is highly relevant, if for no other reason than the supposed bad character of Mrs. Atkins is an important plank of my learned friend's case." Jo could see Denny mouth the word 'why' and raise her eyebrows and she stared sharply at Denny to shut her up. Jo disguised her passing moment of anxiety when she answered the court in her easy relaxed manner.
"I am prepared to allow the line of questioning by Mrs. Mills, subject to the limits that I have set out, but I do expect the witness to go on to give evidence of the defendant herself." "You have explained everything very clearly, Miss Blood. I want to ask you if there was any event before the death of James Fenner, where you spent any appreciable amount of time with the defendant." "That's easy," jumped in Denny confidently. "It was the time that Miss Betts took me out for the day to Yvonne's house." Suddenly, all the memories of that glorious day came flooding vividly back so that the film unreeled before her eyes and the courtroom faded. "Miss Betts let me buy some flowers on the way for Yvonne. Her house is brilliant, out of this world, just the sort of cool place she would have and her dog, Trigger is friendly and soft as a brush………." Jo was content to let Denny carry on without guidance and smiled to herself that Denny's throwaway comments were doing her job just nicely.
"………All right, I could go on about it all day, sir, but there's one thing that I can remember about Lauren. I don't know how to say it as she's my best mate, as good as sisters like the two Julies are, but she did get a bit aggressive once when she took Yvonne away to talk to her. She and Yvonne disappeared for ages. Miss Betts kept me company so everything was cool. When she did come back, Lauren tried to be nice to me but she kept giving Yvonne the evil eye." "When did this happen?" "It was dead hot that day and well into summer. August I would say, miss." "What struck you about Lauren's manner?" Denny looked thoughtful as she mulled over the question. The court did not exist for her as she took her time to deliver her judgement. "I thought that Lauren was jealous of me and took it out on Yvonne. She was scared that I was closer to Yvonne than she was, but I didn't get it then. When Yvonne was at Larkhall, all she would talk about to do with her family was her Lauren, how proud she was of her. You could tell it in her face. Lauren's different now with me as we've shared a cell for the past year since she came to Larkhall. There's never been any trouble between the two of us. You've got to get on bloody well sharing a cell, as you're locked in night after night." Tears were streaming down Lauren's face in a totally unashamed fashion. She loved Denny for her kindness and understanding. She could not for the life of her work out why she ever thought Denny was a threat to her. There was a lot she couldn't understand about herself, why she had grown up the way she had and how disconnected her past felt from her. Above her, the women in the gallery were incredibly touched by the simple unaffected words, which told the truth. "No further questions, my lord."
Denny gulped in nervousness as she saw the black guy in his fancy clothes stand up and prepare to speak. She could tell straight away she wasn't going to like him.
"Miss Blood, have you known Mrs. Atkins to be violent?" "Objection, my lord. Surely my learned friend cannot ask the witness to tell the court what she has heard persons unnamed describe Mrs. Atkins' character any more than I stopped short of asking similar questions from the opposite perspective." "The objection is sustained for the reasons stated." Denny was hugely relieved by Jo's intervention. That wanker was really hassling her and on her own would have made her lose it. She really needed Jo's posh talk giving him a bit of legal and shutting him up. As for the judge, he was a real gent. "I apologise. Miss Blood, have you seen Mrs. Atkins act in a violent manner." "No, Sir." "What? Are you seriously telling me that in all the years both you and Mrs. Atkins have been in prison, you have never seen Mrs. Atkins so much as smack another prisoner? I find that very hard to believe." "Have you got a problem, man?" "No, Miss Blood, I have no 'problem' as you say. I don't see why a jury should believe a word you say." "I'll tell you why she didn't need to hit anyone. If she was angry, then one look from her and you didn't want to start any trouble." "So you are saying that other prisoners were so intimidated by her that they were in fear of their lives?" "Is that some kind of crime, just looking at someone? She never did anything about it. Most of us respected her too much," Denny shouted scornfully.
"Mr. Mason-Alan, this line of questioning is patently fruitless and unproductive. Unless you provide arguments to refute what the witness is saying, then your approach to cross-examination is questionable in the extreme. To me, you are seeking to wear down the witness in a war of attrition until she says what you want her to say. For this reason, I am putting a halt to this line of questioning." "I have one last question to ask the witness. Why, Miss Blood, were you let out of prison to spend the day at Mrs. Atkins house?" "That's easy," Denny beamed. "It was because of Yvonne's birthday, as a treat for both of us. I like answering questions. Do you want to ask me another one?" To the women in the gallery, Denny was priceless. Only she could transform the majesty of a court of law and the formality of giving evidence into a child's party game.
"I have no further questions, my lord," Neumann Mason-Alan spat out in a disgusted fashion.
"Do you wish to ask any questions, Mrs Mills?" "I hate to disappoint the witness but I cannot see that anything can possibly be added to what she has already said." There was a big grin on Jo Mills face. She had been secretly worried about Denny as her heart was in the right place but she had come through in her own way.
As court was adjourned for lunch, Jo gathered up her papers under her arm and caught up with them in the foyer where Dominic was escorting Denny back to Larkhall. "Did I do all right, Miss?" "Well done, Denny. You did far better than I ever dreamed you could." "You're a bloody star, Denny," Cassie called out. "You made that guy Mason-Alan look as big an arsehole as I did." "You've come a long way since I first knew you, Denny, and definitely for the better," Helen's full intensity of feeling washed over Denny and made her feel good about herself. If Miss Stewart and Miss Betts gave her the time of day, she must be worth something. A soppy feeling inside her made her feel like that bird in the film who was walking round the ballroom of the Titanic, and everyone clapped her and that guy with her in a dinner jacket. She would feel dead stupid in a dress like that and that guy wouldn't be her first choice but it felt right to her. She would never outgrow the need of that feeling of being made special. It hadn't always been that way in her life. "Why, fancy seeing you once again wearing a prison officer's uniform, Dominic. Remember me?" Yvonne's surface mockery was only a token of old times sake. "As if I could ever forget. We'll make sure Lauren gets looked after, but I hope it won't be for long." Automatic instinct made Dominic's reply sound slightly sheepish to begin with. In turn, Yvonne grinned and patted his shoulder in gratitude as he passed along.
"See you when you get out, Denny. Don't forget us whatever you do." Tears came to Denny's eyes. As if she ever could forget every last one of them.
Normally, George was not a morning person and resented any external intrusions. Left to herself, she craved the gradual process of coming to life until the moment of decision was right for her first cigarette and to climb out of bed. Unfortunately, this desire clashed with the relentless move of the clock hands round the dial and her desire to face the world only at her best, and the result was her bad temper. Today, George's eyelid opened a fraction of an inch and an intense pure white sensation dazzled her. The bed seemed strangely different and so she rolled over to investigate. Both eyes blinked open and shut several times and she found the difference. Leaning elegantly on her hand was the full-breasted shapeliness of a wondrous vision, which was Karen. It quite took her breath away.
"Tired, sweetheart?" That uniquely husky voice insinuated its way into George's appetite for sensuous pleasure in all its little ways. She had never woken up next to another woman before last weekend, and this sensation was excitingly different. She stretched out her arms to receive Karen's good morning kiss and the feel of her arms round her cotton-covered shoulders.
"I'm much worse than this as a rule. I don't know which is worse," mumbled George sleepily, "That wretched alarm clock or John being disgustingly cheerful in the morning." The irritating bleeping of the bedside alarm clock made George's point and she leaned over Karen, stretched out an arm and blindly pressed the general area at the top of the clock with an assortment of fingers. Mercifully, the sound was killed. As George's energy was spent, she lay sprawled across Karen incapable of moving but not wanting to anyway.
"Please tell me it's the weekend, Karen, and we can lie in bed?" George called out, hoping against hope but knowing that Karen was going to shake her head. She felt different today as her thoughts started to take shape, somehow cleansed after opening herself up to telling the unmentionable about Charlie, and removed by the night from that experience. "I've got to go into Larkhall, nip in to give Denny Blood a pep talk and head on to court. Still, if you get up now, you can always join me in the shower," Karen's seductive voice dispelled the last of the cotton wool in George's thoughts. That definitely made it easier to get moving out of bed.
"So you've called me in to tell me that you're coming to court as well, Miss Betts?" "Yes, Denny. You'll see me in the visitor's gallery along with a lot of familiar faces." She knew that she was due in court today but was worried by the last minute call to see Miss Betts. In her experience, such last minute messages with no apparent reasons for them meant bad news. That fear that what she really wanted out of life was suddenly going to be taken away. Instead, Karen smiled benevolently as she faced the suddenly excited girl, whose grin lit up her face with innocence. It transformed Denny's whole appearance, as much on other occasions when her scowl threatened anger and possible violence. "I'll tell it like it is for Lauren's sake, and if that wanker of a brief gives me any grief, I'll give it back twice over. He'd better watch out for me." Karen dare not let herself be swept along by Denny's fresh faced enthusiasm. By now, she had been immersed in the process of law operated, in and out of court, and didn't want to see Denny walking into the sort of trap that Neumann Mason-Alan was capable of setting for her.
"Make sure you stick to the facts, Denny. Make perfectly sure of what you know and take your time when you speak. I've been up on the stand when Snowball Merriman and Ritchie Atkins were on trial and, believe you me, it's no picnic." Denny listened to the concerned tone of the Wing Governor sitting on the opposite side of her desk. This wasn't some screw being stuck up and superior, treating her like some sort of an idiot. This was an older woman's voice of experience telling her very kindly for her own good.
"Which screws are taking me and Lauren?" she said at last.
"I've allocated Mr. McAllister and Miss Geeson to do escort duty for you and Lauren. That suit you?" "Wicked," Denny grinned. She couldn't have done better if she had a chance to pick the screws to go with her. They were dead fair and straight up. That removed the last little niggling worry from her mind. "You've not been out since I took you to Yvonne's house. Just don't let it go to your head." Karen's final advice was softened by the memory of that far off day when the handcuffs of her trade were loosely carried that day and everything was soft and golden. Her life was more complicated these days but, at least, she had her work to keep her focussed and on track.
Denny lounged in the back seat of the car, grinning widely as if she were going on a Sunday treat. It was so long ago since she had seen the other side of the high wooden gates that Denny's impressions of her visit to Yvonne's house didn't seem real. They were like a disconnected series of images out of a celebrity magazine. Only the memory of Yvonne's voice, sometimes tender, sometimes joking, stayed with her for always. Memories could fade but not that indefinable feel of Yvonne's maternal care. If it weren't for her, she would still be that vicious bitch who thought she was so hard and who delighted in hurting other women. As they set off outside the gates, she looked all around her. The world raced past her windows at a frenetic pace. Everything seemed unbearably vivid and cars rushed dangerously close to her. Everyone must be bleeding Superman or Catwoman to survive in this madhouse. Only the inside of the car seemed to stay in one place and she felt anchored down by it.
Lauren was tired out and, even waiting interminably while Karen checked them through the gatehouse security, her head lolled sideways against Dominic's shoulder. After months of relative nothingness, Lauren had endured day after day of all out mental concentration, which had ground her down. She didn't know what was worse, standing impassively as an observer while her past was laid out for all to see, or the traumatic confrontation where she fought for her idea of who she was and, therefore, her sanity. Now she was numb to everything, content to be led where others saw fit. In the cuckoon like shell of the car, the outside world moved lazily along in a disconnected way and she felt temporarily safe with those who were with her.
Denny took her place in the witness box and, flanked by Dominic, she glanced up at the gallery. A huge smile split her face. Jesus, the best of the screws and all the old lags from Larkhall were lined up in a row, Nikki, Miss Stewart, Crystal, Yvonne, Roisin, Cassie, Babs, Miss Betts as promised and that new bird of hers, George or better known to me as Posh Bitch. All of them smiled at her as if she were at a birthday treat. That was something she didn't get every day and made her feel better. She remembered the day when this nice lady who she'd seen before, talked to her about the trial. She'd introduced herself as Jo, shaken her firmly by her hand and put her at her ease. Anyone else would have pissed her off, banging on about one thing after another as if she was a liar or an idiot.
"Miss Blood, when did you first meet Mrs. Atkins, and how did you come to know her?" Jo asked her.
"Yvonne?" she questioned, momentarily puzzled. "It was soon after she first came to Larkhall….." "…..and when was this?" Denny's forehead was furrowed by a series of frown lines as she racked her memory in an environment when days, weeks, months and years all flowed into each other. Finally, she remembered all that bollocks about the millennium and could pinpoint it that Yvonne had arrived just before Halloween. That made it October 1999. Jesus, she first knew Yvonne Atkins in the last bleeding century. "I think it was October 1999, Miss," Denny said at last.
"Can you describe for the benefit of the court, exactly what your relationship with Mrs. Atkins was like?" "She was my second mother. There wasn't anyone closer to me than her when I first knew her." "Can you explain for the benefit of the jury, a bit about your background and, in particular, why you call Mrs. Atkins your second mother?" "My real mother was an alki. I got taken into care when I was eight when my mother was out somewhere, getting drunk. I ended up in a children's home. You have to be hard and tough going through all that. Larkhall is only the next stage up…….." "What sort of contact did you have with your real mother after that?" Jo asked softly. "She was too busy getting drunk for me or anything else. I never heard nothing from her till she got taken in for being drunk and disorderly and even then, she didn't recognise me. 'Too much trouble, having kids", that's what she told me once. She'd forgotten that she'd even had a kid. I had to push my face right up close and hold a knife to her throat before she remembered me….." The zigzag tattoo that ran round Denny's neck was as jagged and razor edged as the words she came out with. Nikki and Helen felt highly uncomfortable as their negative family experiences were nothing in comparison. It also hit them hard that Denny's father was this terrifying hole in her existence.
"……….She let me down time and time again while she was in prison, all big promises and doing nothing about them." "So how different was Yvonne?" Denny's face suddenly smiled openly. "Yvonne was a good laugh and dead generous from the word go. Everyone noticed her. First thing she did was to get a load of guitars shipped in and we did this thing, right, all of us singing this song called "Kumbaya". The head screw had stopped visits to all the women on G Wing, and we wanted to put pressure on them to change their minds. She didn't do this for herself, she did it for all the girls. That's Yvonne all over………… I always knew she was there to have a shoulder that I could cry on. She was someone who'd tell me things straight without telling me a load of bollocks, sorry sir. She could make me laugh and that ain't easy sometimes. She never let me down. Sounds like a mother, doesn't it?" A sudden rush of raw emotion suddenly swept through Jo, so that she took deep breaths in and out. Yes, that sounds exactly like what mothers do. "It wasn't just me, but she did the same for other women like my girlfriend, Shaz Wiley. I was the closest to her of all those in Larkhall………" "If I might be allowed to put in a word here. I am also waiting to see if the witness is going to give evidence directly about the defendant. I am also asking if my learned friend intends to subject the court to a multitude of anecdotes of good deeds that the mother of the defendant is alleged to have done? If so, I would most certainly raise a point of law, for the simple reason that such 'evidence' would be third hand and the validity of such 'evidence' would be impossible to test, apart from simply calling the witness a liar." Neumann Mason-Alan's heavy-duty sarcasm was aimed to crush what he saw as this ill educated, inarticulate, not very attractive witness, dressed in outlandish clothes. "I thank you for your advice, Mr. Mason-Alan. It does seem a reasonable point, Mrs, Mills." "I was not intending to question the witness in the way described, for the reasons my learned friend outlines. I would argue most forcibly that the witness's own direct experience of Mrs. Atkins is highly relevant, if for no other reason than the supposed bad character of Mrs. Atkins is an important plank of my learned friend's case." Jo could see Denny mouth the word 'why' and raise her eyebrows and she stared sharply at Denny to shut her up. Jo disguised her passing moment of anxiety when she answered the court in her easy relaxed manner.
"I am prepared to allow the line of questioning by Mrs. Mills, subject to the limits that I have set out, but I do expect the witness to go on to give evidence of the defendant herself." "You have explained everything very clearly, Miss Blood. I want to ask you if there was any event before the death of James Fenner, where you spent any appreciable amount of time with the defendant." "That's easy," jumped in Denny confidently. "It was the time that Miss Betts took me out for the day to Yvonne's house." Suddenly, all the memories of that glorious day came flooding vividly back so that the film unreeled before her eyes and the courtroom faded. "Miss Betts let me buy some flowers on the way for Yvonne. Her house is brilliant, out of this world, just the sort of cool place she would have and her dog, Trigger is friendly and soft as a brush………." Jo was content to let Denny carry on without guidance and smiled to herself that Denny's throwaway comments were doing her job just nicely.
"………All right, I could go on about it all day, sir, but there's one thing that I can remember about Lauren. I don't know how to say it as she's my best mate, as good as sisters like the two Julies are, but she did get a bit aggressive once when she took Yvonne away to talk to her. She and Yvonne disappeared for ages. Miss Betts kept me company so everything was cool. When she did come back, Lauren tried to be nice to me but she kept giving Yvonne the evil eye." "When did this happen?" "It was dead hot that day and well into summer. August I would say, miss." "What struck you about Lauren's manner?" Denny looked thoughtful as she mulled over the question. The court did not exist for her as she took her time to deliver her judgement. "I thought that Lauren was jealous of me and took it out on Yvonne. She was scared that I was closer to Yvonne than she was, but I didn't get it then. When Yvonne was at Larkhall, all she would talk about to do with her family was her Lauren, how proud she was of her. You could tell it in her face. Lauren's different now with me as we've shared a cell for the past year since she came to Larkhall. There's never been any trouble between the two of us. You've got to get on bloody well sharing a cell, as you're locked in night after night." Tears were streaming down Lauren's face in a totally unashamed fashion. She loved Denny for her kindness and understanding. She could not for the life of her work out why she ever thought Denny was a threat to her. There was a lot she couldn't understand about herself, why she had grown up the way she had and how disconnected her past felt from her. Above her, the women in the gallery were incredibly touched by the simple unaffected words, which told the truth. "No further questions, my lord."
Denny gulped in nervousness as she saw the black guy in his fancy clothes stand up and prepare to speak. She could tell straight away she wasn't going to like him.
"Miss Blood, have you known Mrs. Atkins to be violent?" "Objection, my lord. Surely my learned friend cannot ask the witness to tell the court what she has heard persons unnamed describe Mrs. Atkins' character any more than I stopped short of asking similar questions from the opposite perspective." "The objection is sustained for the reasons stated." Denny was hugely relieved by Jo's intervention. That wanker was really hassling her and on her own would have made her lose it. She really needed Jo's posh talk giving him a bit of legal and shutting him up. As for the judge, he was a real gent. "I apologise. Miss Blood, have you seen Mrs. Atkins act in a violent manner." "No, Sir." "What? Are you seriously telling me that in all the years both you and Mrs. Atkins have been in prison, you have never seen Mrs. Atkins so much as smack another prisoner? I find that very hard to believe." "Have you got a problem, man?" "No, Miss Blood, I have no 'problem' as you say. I don't see why a jury should believe a word you say." "I'll tell you why she didn't need to hit anyone. If she was angry, then one look from her and you didn't want to start any trouble." "So you are saying that other prisoners were so intimidated by her that they were in fear of their lives?" "Is that some kind of crime, just looking at someone? She never did anything about it. Most of us respected her too much," Denny shouted scornfully.
"Mr. Mason-Alan, this line of questioning is patently fruitless and unproductive. Unless you provide arguments to refute what the witness is saying, then your approach to cross-examination is questionable in the extreme. To me, you are seeking to wear down the witness in a war of attrition until she says what you want her to say. For this reason, I am putting a halt to this line of questioning." "I have one last question to ask the witness. Why, Miss Blood, were you let out of prison to spend the day at Mrs. Atkins house?" "That's easy," Denny beamed. "It was because of Yvonne's birthday, as a treat for both of us. I like answering questions. Do you want to ask me another one?" To the women in the gallery, Denny was priceless. Only she could transform the majesty of a court of law and the formality of giving evidence into a child's party game.
"I have no further questions, my lord," Neumann Mason-Alan spat out in a disgusted fashion.
"Do you wish to ask any questions, Mrs Mills?" "I hate to disappoint the witness but I cannot see that anything can possibly be added to what she has already said." There was a big grin on Jo Mills face. She had been secretly worried about Denny as her heart was in the right place but she had come through in her own way.
As court was adjourned for lunch, Jo gathered up her papers under her arm and caught up with them in the foyer where Dominic was escorting Denny back to Larkhall. "Did I do all right, Miss?" "Well done, Denny. You did far better than I ever dreamed you could." "You're a bloody star, Denny," Cassie called out. "You made that guy Mason-Alan look as big an arsehole as I did." "You've come a long way since I first knew you, Denny, and definitely for the better," Helen's full intensity of feeling washed over Denny and made her feel good about herself. If Miss Stewart and Miss Betts gave her the time of day, she must be worth something. A soppy feeling inside her made her feel like that bird in the film who was walking round the ballroom of the Titanic, and everyone clapped her and that guy with her in a dinner jacket. She would feel dead stupid in a dress like that and that guy wouldn't be her first choice but it felt right to her. She would never outgrow the need of that feeling of being made special. It hadn't always been that way in her life. "Why, fancy seeing you once again wearing a prison officer's uniform, Dominic. Remember me?" Yvonne's surface mockery was only a token of old times sake. "As if I could ever forget. We'll make sure Lauren gets looked after, but I hope it won't be for long." Automatic instinct made Dominic's reply sound slightly sheepish to begin with. In turn, Yvonne grinned and patted his shoulder in gratitude as he passed along.
"See you when you get out, Denny. Don't forget us whatever you do." Tears came to Denny's eyes. As if she ever could forget every last one of them.