A/N: Betaed by Jen, Little Dorritt and Kaatje. Thank you!
Part Fifty-Six
When they arrived at court on the Monday morning, they had been rejoined by George and Crystal, all nine of them waiting for the verdict. Tempers were frayed, with Yvonne and Cassie continuously bickering, sniping at each other because it gave them something else to focus on. They knew that the jury would reconvene at ten o'clock, so from that time onwards, one or another of them kept glancing at their watch. They took over a couple of tables in the corner of the cafeteria, but often slipping outside for a nicotine top up. When Jo appeared, George rose and went to meet her. "Do you have a minute?" She asked. "As many as you like, until the jury come back," She said, thinking that this was as good a time as any for the conversation they needed to have. George scanned their surroundings, looking for the slightest modicum of privacy, and finding none. "Let's try the barristers' lounge upstairs," Jo suggested. "Everyone else should be in court at this time of the morning."
The lounge only ever frequented by barristers and other court personnel, was on the second floor of the Old Bailey, and was absolutely out of bounds to anyone who wasn't part of the old boys' network of the legal profession. It was a long, high-ceilinged room, with a long mahogany sideboard, and groups of comfortable armchairs and low coffee tables. The entire back wall of the lounge was made up of windows, and a sliding door that led out onto a spacious balcony. Jo had been right, they were entirely alone, with everyone else either in court or dealing with clients. She poured them both a coffee from the elegant pot on the sideboard, and they moved as if of one mind out onto the balcony. "This is the only place we can smoke these days," Grumbled George. "If John had his way, we wouldn't even have this luxury," Jo commented dryly. "How was your weekend?" She added, after lighting a cigarette and taking a grateful drag. "I told John on Saturday," George replied, lighting her own cigarette. "Ah," Jo simply said, thinking she might just know what was coming, but she couldn't have been more wrong. "Jo, I'm so sorry that I put you in such a difficult position," George eventually said, feeling very uncomfortable. "I shouldn't have expected you to keep something like that from him." "George," Jo said slowly but firmly. "When to tell him, or when not to tell him, had to be your decision. Neither of us could have predicted that he would work it out in the way he did. How was he?" "Oh, all right, after a substantial amount of his favourite form of persuasion, and a lot of reassurance that I wasn't about to leave him altogether." Jo smirked. "Oh, you know what he's like," George said affectionately. "That's his answer to everything." "He was quite hurt that I'd known and not told him. But he'll get over it. He'll have to, at least that's what I told him. I tried to make him understand that all you're doing, is exactly what he's been doing for the last year and a bit." "Jo," George said carefully, trying to find the right way to phrase what she wanted to say. "I think you might find that John is a little more, assertive than usual." "Oh, you mean that to reclaim his position as leader of the pack as it were, he'll probably want to sleep with both of us more than usual." George laughed. "Yes, something like that. It's funny, but the main difference about sleeping with a woman, apart from the obvious, is that it's totally equal. Maybe that's why I like it." Jo smiled. "Did you see Karen this weekend?" "Yes, on Friday," George replied, wholly unable to prevent the soft, sultry smile spreading over her face. But remembering what had happened early on the Saturday morning, she became serious again. "Have you ever seen anyone in the throws of an extremely vivid nightmare?" "John, once or twice. Why?" "Karen dreamt about Fenner, about what he did to her." "That's hardly surprising, after the last couple of weeks." "Oh, I know. It just scared the bloody life out of me, that's all." "It probably did her, too." "And she's so bloody, infuriatingly stubborn!" George said in sheer exasperation. "George," Jo said with a laugh. "You are the last person who can accuse anyone of being stubborn." "Yes, I suppose I had that coming. But she just won't talk, not really talk, without an enormous amount of cajoling. It's as though she's terrified of admitting to what's going on in her head. She said that she didn't want me to see her like that, because she didn't want to frighten me off." "Do you remember the day you fainted in court?" Jo asked quietly. "As if I'll ever forget it," George replied bitterly. "Once you started talking, you couldn't stop, but it took a good deal of encouragement to persuade you to open up. The only reason it didn't take as long as I thought it would, is because you were physically weak and emotionally vulnerable." George recoiled from this far too accurate description. "I know. I just wish she would let me help her." "Give her time," Jo said gently, seeing in this simple, little remark that George had altered immeasurably over the last year and finding the change in her, perhaps the most positive thing to come out of everything that had happened between them all.
Not long after George and Jo left the others, they were approached by Coope. "Miss Betts, the judge would like to see you in chambers." "Thank you," Karen said politely, though her distinct lack of enthusiasm for the upcoming conversation wasn't lost on Coope. "Tell him I'm on my way." When Coope had gone, Yvonne said, "Is he going to slap your wrist for sleeping with his ex?" "More than likely," Said Karen, getting to her feet. "If you don't see me by the end of the day, send up a search party." As she walked away, she felt as nervous as if she was being called up before the headmaster. But this wasn't some authority figure who just happened to have a connection with the woman Karen was sleeping with, this was John, one of her dearest friends. Hurting him was the last thing in the world she wanted to do, but she had a feeling that this was what she'd already done. Before knocking on the door of his chambers, she took a deep breath, and steeled herself for what was coming. She'd known John long enough to realise that if he did feel any anger about this, it would be saved for her and her alone. When bidden to enter, she held her head high, showing the world that she'd done nothing wrong.
When the door closed behind her, they stood and looked at each other. "It's not often I see you stuck for words," Karen said into the silence when he didn't appear to be forthcoming. "And it isn't often that I discover I'm the last to know something," He replied stonily. "John," Karen said gently. "When to put you in the picture, had to be George's decision. It would have been extremely wrong of me to ask her to do it before she was ready." "And I used to think that it was wrong, to keep something so important from a friend." "You know me better than that," Karen replied, stung by his words. "If it had been entirely up to me, then I probably would have talked to you about it, before even making any kind of an approach with George. But this is all new to her, so it has to work at her pace. Not mine, not yours, but hers," She finished firmly. "So why do it?" He demanded. "If our friendship means as much to you as you say it does, why make things ten times as complicated, by moving in on someone who means far more to me than she ever could to you?" "Do you have any objection, to not making me out to be some sort of predatory dyke?" Karen asked tartly, realising that both their voices was slowly rising. "It's really about time you bloody grew up, John Deed, because everything will not always remain exactly the way you want it. Oh, I get it, it's perfectly acceptable for you to divide your sex life between two people, but not all right for Jo or George to do the same?" "What relationships I do or don't have, are absolutely none of your business." "That's where you're quite wrong. Your relationship with George is my business. I'm not going away, John, for as long as George wants me around, I'm staying. So you'd better get off your high horse and get used to it." "Just one thing," John said almost casually. "I don't want to have to pick up the pieces, when you get bored of playing instructor. Is that clear?" Karen was stunned, well and truly speechless. This, coming from the man whose cast-offs must have hit triple figures by the time he was forty. It hurt her enormously to hear him say such a thing to her. Never usually being one to give up a fight, she was ashamed to feel a prickling behind her eyelids. Turning on her heel, she flung open the door and stalked down the corridor.
As soon as he'd said that, he'd known he'd gone too far. He didn't want to hurt Karen any more than she wanted to hurt him, but the immense jealousy and deep insecurity he felt about the situation, had made him act abominably towards her. Swiftly making to catch her up, he called after her. "Karen, come back, I'm sorry." Turning to face him, she held up a hand. "Don't," She said bitterly. "Don't you dare assume that just because you've had more women than you've had hot dinners, that I'm the same." Walking up to him so that she could lower her voice, she continued. "Let's not forget, that with your track record, you are far more likely to hurt George, or Jo, or any other woman you care to lay your hands on, than I am. For now, George likes what she has with me, because it's different. She will never, ever leave you for anyone, no matter how much I may in future want her to. So will you please, put the hackles down, and let her spread her wings for a while." It was now John's turn to be speechless. Karen was right, he knew it, but never would she get him to admit it. "I'm sorry," He said again, quietly this time. "I hope so," She said coolly, not quite able to forgive the harsh words he'd thrown at her with so little thought. "Where do you think they might be?" She asked with half a smile, trying to find anything remotely innocuous to say. "Aren't they downstairs?" "No, they disappeared off somewhere before you summoned me." "Ah, that'll be the barristers' prerogative kicking in," He said as he led the way down the corridor. "You're not strictly permitted up here," He said as they mounted the stairs to the second floor. "But if anyone saw the argument we've just had, they'll be in no doubt that you're a barrister." Smiling at the tentative stab at humour, Karen followed him along yet another corridor, and through a pair of elegant double doors.
When George and Jo heard the doors of the lounge opening, they turned to see John and Karen. But as they were going inside, John heard his name being called from further down the corridor. "I'll be with you in a minute," He said as he left her to it. "Have you two kissed and made up?" George asked, as Karen came out onto the balcony, immediately kicking herself when she saw the briefly closed expression on Jo's face. "We've shouted at each other, if that's what you mean," Karen said dryly, digging for her cigarettes. "What did he say?" George asked, not liking the sound of this. "Oh, nothing I didn't expect," Karen said lightly, not fooling either of them. "Well, at least nothing I won't get over." "He's probably just being overprotective," Jo said quietly. "Yeah," Karen replied with a shrug, and they could both see that whatever he'd said had hurt. George put an arm round Karen's waist and gave her a quick, affectionate squeeze. "He'll calm down soon enough," She said, just praying that he really would. Karen put an arm around her shoulders, taking brief comfort in having George close to her. Jo broke into a soft smile. "You look good together," She said, which brought a warm smile to Karen's face. "Try convincing John of that," Karen said dismissively, not really knowing how to take such a compliment. "Darling, what did he say to you?" George asked again, looking up into Karen's face. "Forget it," Karen said bitterly, and when George took a breath to persist, she said, "Believe me, it's best left forgotten. I just wish he could get it into his head, that I didn't intend to rock the boat." "Karen," Jo said firmly. "You know as well as I do, that John is the last person who should criticise anyone for sleeping with someone else. He'll get over it. Just give him time." Just then, Coope put her head through the lounge door and called to Jo. "Mrs. Mills, the jury's back with a verdict." "Thanks, Coope," Jo called back. "Well, this is the moment we've all been waiting for," George said, as they made their way towards the courtroom. "I almost don't want to know," Karen admitted. When they arrived in the gallery, everyone was there waiting for them, and Karen slipped in beside Yvonne, wanting to be able to give her some moral support, now that the moment had come.
When the jury filed back in, Yvonne's hand slipped into Karen's. She couldn't help it, she needed to know that someone was there with her. Karen gave Yvonne's hand a squeeze. The clerk of the court asked the foreman of the jury to stand. The atmosphere was electric, the silence heavy with the weight of the tension in every muscle. "On the charge of murder, do you find Miss Lauren Atkins, guilty or not guilty?" "Not, guilty," The foreman's words were clearly spaced. Karen felt her hand being forcefully gripped, with the moment of truth finally here. "On the reduced charge of manslaughter, by virtue of diminished responsibility, do you find Miss Lauren Atkins, guilty or not guilty?" The foreman seemed to hold his breath, as if not wanting to pass the verdict. "Guilty." The word echoed round the courtroom like a pistol shot. A murmuring of voices ran round the gallery, but Yvonne stayed deadly silent, not an ounce of colour in her face. She knew only too well that for manslaughter, any sentence up to and including life could be given. "Miss Atkins," John's voice resonated round the court. "Would you please stand up?" When she did so, he fixed his gaze on her. "Throughout this trial, I have heard many reasons why you chose to commit the act you did, of brutally killing another human being. Now, whilst you are undoubtedly a very mentally troubled young woman, I cannot condone your actions, and must therefore pass a sentence which befits both the crime, and your particular situation. It is incumbent upon me to impose a sentence that the general public can take seriously, yet at the same time, to ensure that you are provided with the psychiatric treatment that you clearly need. You have been in custody on remand for just over a year now, and I sentence you to one further year in custody. Your custodial sentence is as light as this, because I do not believe that you will receive adequate psychiatric care whilst you are serving your sentence, Her Majesty's prisons being as over-populated as they are. Once you are released from prison, I am ordering that you must receive whatever psychiatric treatment that may be recommended for you. However, to ensure that you sufficiently learn your lesson, the day of your release, will be the start of a five year suspended sentence. This means, that if, at any point during the ensuing five years, you commit any crime, you can be recalled to prison immediately, and this will be non-negotiable. This is in an attempt to first of all, punish you in a satisfactory manner, to secondly, ensure that you receive the psychiatric treatment you require, and to thirdly, guarantee that you do not appear in court again. In committing this crime, you have caused your mother, and those others who deeply care for you, an inestimable amount of pain and suffering, and I hope that your custodial sentence will give you ample opportunity to reflect on this. Miss Atkins, I do not expect to see you appear before me again. Take her down."
There was a brief, stunned silence from the gallery as Lauren was led away. They stood automatically when the clerk called out "All rise," and like preprogrammed robots, began to make their way downstairs. Nobody said a word, none of them knowing what to say. But when they reached the foyer, Yvonne turned to George. "Why did he do that?" She asked, her face still expressionless. "Yvonne, I gave up trying to fathom the workings of John's mind years ago," George said gently. "So please don't ask me to start now." When Jo came up to them, she looked sad, guilty, and worn out all in one. "Yvonne, I'm so sorry," She said, really feeling as though she'd lost, no matter how much she'd thought this might be the outcome all along. "Hey, don't be," Yvonne said, touched by the feeling in Jo's face. "You did your best for Lauren, and we both know it could have turned out a hell of a lot worse. So don't beat yourself up about it. You worked a bloody miracle in there, and don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise." Jo was incredibly touched by Yvonne's words, but it didn't stop her feeling as though she'd failed. Yvonne's eyes shifted away from her suddenly, to take in the form of John, slowly walking towards them. Before any of them could stop her, Yvonne had broken free of them, and was striding purposefully towards him. When she stood in front of him, they simply looked at each other. "Thank you," Yvonne said quietly, as the tears began streaming down her face. "Thank you so much for what you did." John was speechless. If he'd expected any personal reaction from Yvonne Atkins, it wasn't this. Acting instinctively, he put out his arms and drew her firmly to him. He held Yvonne as she sobbed into his shoulder, feeling all the tension that had been building up in her, ever since Lauren had plunged her into a mixture of fear and despair. "I can't ever thank you enough, for not writing off my daughter's life." "All I want you to do," He said, his own voice a little unsteady with the emotion he could feel pouring over him. "Is to make sure that your daughter is never in my court, or any court again. When she comes out of prison, make sure she gets the care and treatment she needs. You are perhaps, one of the most loyal, caring, utterly devoted mothers I have ever had the pleasure to meet, so I know you can do that. Now, go home, gather all your friends around you, and get on with your life."
Part Fifty-Six
When they arrived at court on the Monday morning, they had been rejoined by George and Crystal, all nine of them waiting for the verdict. Tempers were frayed, with Yvonne and Cassie continuously bickering, sniping at each other because it gave them something else to focus on. They knew that the jury would reconvene at ten o'clock, so from that time onwards, one or another of them kept glancing at their watch. They took over a couple of tables in the corner of the cafeteria, but often slipping outside for a nicotine top up. When Jo appeared, George rose and went to meet her. "Do you have a minute?" She asked. "As many as you like, until the jury come back," She said, thinking that this was as good a time as any for the conversation they needed to have. George scanned their surroundings, looking for the slightest modicum of privacy, and finding none. "Let's try the barristers' lounge upstairs," Jo suggested. "Everyone else should be in court at this time of the morning."
The lounge only ever frequented by barristers and other court personnel, was on the second floor of the Old Bailey, and was absolutely out of bounds to anyone who wasn't part of the old boys' network of the legal profession. It was a long, high-ceilinged room, with a long mahogany sideboard, and groups of comfortable armchairs and low coffee tables. The entire back wall of the lounge was made up of windows, and a sliding door that led out onto a spacious balcony. Jo had been right, they were entirely alone, with everyone else either in court or dealing with clients. She poured them both a coffee from the elegant pot on the sideboard, and they moved as if of one mind out onto the balcony. "This is the only place we can smoke these days," Grumbled George. "If John had his way, we wouldn't even have this luxury," Jo commented dryly. "How was your weekend?" She added, after lighting a cigarette and taking a grateful drag. "I told John on Saturday," George replied, lighting her own cigarette. "Ah," Jo simply said, thinking she might just know what was coming, but she couldn't have been more wrong. "Jo, I'm so sorry that I put you in such a difficult position," George eventually said, feeling very uncomfortable. "I shouldn't have expected you to keep something like that from him." "George," Jo said slowly but firmly. "When to tell him, or when not to tell him, had to be your decision. Neither of us could have predicted that he would work it out in the way he did. How was he?" "Oh, all right, after a substantial amount of his favourite form of persuasion, and a lot of reassurance that I wasn't about to leave him altogether." Jo smirked. "Oh, you know what he's like," George said affectionately. "That's his answer to everything." "He was quite hurt that I'd known and not told him. But he'll get over it. He'll have to, at least that's what I told him. I tried to make him understand that all you're doing, is exactly what he's been doing for the last year and a bit." "Jo," George said carefully, trying to find the right way to phrase what she wanted to say. "I think you might find that John is a little more, assertive than usual." "Oh, you mean that to reclaim his position as leader of the pack as it were, he'll probably want to sleep with both of us more than usual." George laughed. "Yes, something like that. It's funny, but the main difference about sleeping with a woman, apart from the obvious, is that it's totally equal. Maybe that's why I like it." Jo smiled. "Did you see Karen this weekend?" "Yes, on Friday," George replied, wholly unable to prevent the soft, sultry smile spreading over her face. But remembering what had happened early on the Saturday morning, she became serious again. "Have you ever seen anyone in the throws of an extremely vivid nightmare?" "John, once or twice. Why?" "Karen dreamt about Fenner, about what he did to her." "That's hardly surprising, after the last couple of weeks." "Oh, I know. It just scared the bloody life out of me, that's all." "It probably did her, too." "And she's so bloody, infuriatingly stubborn!" George said in sheer exasperation. "George," Jo said with a laugh. "You are the last person who can accuse anyone of being stubborn." "Yes, I suppose I had that coming. But she just won't talk, not really talk, without an enormous amount of cajoling. It's as though she's terrified of admitting to what's going on in her head. She said that she didn't want me to see her like that, because she didn't want to frighten me off." "Do you remember the day you fainted in court?" Jo asked quietly. "As if I'll ever forget it," George replied bitterly. "Once you started talking, you couldn't stop, but it took a good deal of encouragement to persuade you to open up. The only reason it didn't take as long as I thought it would, is because you were physically weak and emotionally vulnerable." George recoiled from this far too accurate description. "I know. I just wish she would let me help her." "Give her time," Jo said gently, seeing in this simple, little remark that George had altered immeasurably over the last year and finding the change in her, perhaps the most positive thing to come out of everything that had happened between them all.
Not long after George and Jo left the others, they were approached by Coope. "Miss Betts, the judge would like to see you in chambers." "Thank you," Karen said politely, though her distinct lack of enthusiasm for the upcoming conversation wasn't lost on Coope. "Tell him I'm on my way." When Coope had gone, Yvonne said, "Is he going to slap your wrist for sleeping with his ex?" "More than likely," Said Karen, getting to her feet. "If you don't see me by the end of the day, send up a search party." As she walked away, she felt as nervous as if she was being called up before the headmaster. But this wasn't some authority figure who just happened to have a connection with the woman Karen was sleeping with, this was John, one of her dearest friends. Hurting him was the last thing in the world she wanted to do, but she had a feeling that this was what she'd already done. Before knocking on the door of his chambers, she took a deep breath, and steeled herself for what was coming. She'd known John long enough to realise that if he did feel any anger about this, it would be saved for her and her alone. When bidden to enter, she held her head high, showing the world that she'd done nothing wrong.
When the door closed behind her, they stood and looked at each other. "It's not often I see you stuck for words," Karen said into the silence when he didn't appear to be forthcoming. "And it isn't often that I discover I'm the last to know something," He replied stonily. "John," Karen said gently. "When to put you in the picture, had to be George's decision. It would have been extremely wrong of me to ask her to do it before she was ready." "And I used to think that it was wrong, to keep something so important from a friend." "You know me better than that," Karen replied, stung by his words. "If it had been entirely up to me, then I probably would have talked to you about it, before even making any kind of an approach with George. But this is all new to her, so it has to work at her pace. Not mine, not yours, but hers," She finished firmly. "So why do it?" He demanded. "If our friendship means as much to you as you say it does, why make things ten times as complicated, by moving in on someone who means far more to me than she ever could to you?" "Do you have any objection, to not making me out to be some sort of predatory dyke?" Karen asked tartly, realising that both their voices was slowly rising. "It's really about time you bloody grew up, John Deed, because everything will not always remain exactly the way you want it. Oh, I get it, it's perfectly acceptable for you to divide your sex life between two people, but not all right for Jo or George to do the same?" "What relationships I do or don't have, are absolutely none of your business." "That's where you're quite wrong. Your relationship with George is my business. I'm not going away, John, for as long as George wants me around, I'm staying. So you'd better get off your high horse and get used to it." "Just one thing," John said almost casually. "I don't want to have to pick up the pieces, when you get bored of playing instructor. Is that clear?" Karen was stunned, well and truly speechless. This, coming from the man whose cast-offs must have hit triple figures by the time he was forty. It hurt her enormously to hear him say such a thing to her. Never usually being one to give up a fight, she was ashamed to feel a prickling behind her eyelids. Turning on her heel, she flung open the door and stalked down the corridor.
As soon as he'd said that, he'd known he'd gone too far. He didn't want to hurt Karen any more than she wanted to hurt him, but the immense jealousy and deep insecurity he felt about the situation, had made him act abominably towards her. Swiftly making to catch her up, he called after her. "Karen, come back, I'm sorry." Turning to face him, she held up a hand. "Don't," She said bitterly. "Don't you dare assume that just because you've had more women than you've had hot dinners, that I'm the same." Walking up to him so that she could lower her voice, she continued. "Let's not forget, that with your track record, you are far more likely to hurt George, or Jo, or any other woman you care to lay your hands on, than I am. For now, George likes what she has with me, because it's different. She will never, ever leave you for anyone, no matter how much I may in future want her to. So will you please, put the hackles down, and let her spread her wings for a while." It was now John's turn to be speechless. Karen was right, he knew it, but never would she get him to admit it. "I'm sorry," He said again, quietly this time. "I hope so," She said coolly, not quite able to forgive the harsh words he'd thrown at her with so little thought. "Where do you think they might be?" She asked with half a smile, trying to find anything remotely innocuous to say. "Aren't they downstairs?" "No, they disappeared off somewhere before you summoned me." "Ah, that'll be the barristers' prerogative kicking in," He said as he led the way down the corridor. "You're not strictly permitted up here," He said as they mounted the stairs to the second floor. "But if anyone saw the argument we've just had, they'll be in no doubt that you're a barrister." Smiling at the tentative stab at humour, Karen followed him along yet another corridor, and through a pair of elegant double doors.
When George and Jo heard the doors of the lounge opening, they turned to see John and Karen. But as they were going inside, John heard his name being called from further down the corridor. "I'll be with you in a minute," He said as he left her to it. "Have you two kissed and made up?" George asked, as Karen came out onto the balcony, immediately kicking herself when she saw the briefly closed expression on Jo's face. "We've shouted at each other, if that's what you mean," Karen said dryly, digging for her cigarettes. "What did he say?" George asked, not liking the sound of this. "Oh, nothing I didn't expect," Karen said lightly, not fooling either of them. "Well, at least nothing I won't get over." "He's probably just being overprotective," Jo said quietly. "Yeah," Karen replied with a shrug, and they could both see that whatever he'd said had hurt. George put an arm round Karen's waist and gave her a quick, affectionate squeeze. "He'll calm down soon enough," She said, just praying that he really would. Karen put an arm around her shoulders, taking brief comfort in having George close to her. Jo broke into a soft smile. "You look good together," She said, which brought a warm smile to Karen's face. "Try convincing John of that," Karen said dismissively, not really knowing how to take such a compliment. "Darling, what did he say to you?" George asked again, looking up into Karen's face. "Forget it," Karen said bitterly, and when George took a breath to persist, she said, "Believe me, it's best left forgotten. I just wish he could get it into his head, that I didn't intend to rock the boat." "Karen," Jo said firmly. "You know as well as I do, that John is the last person who should criticise anyone for sleeping with someone else. He'll get over it. Just give him time." Just then, Coope put her head through the lounge door and called to Jo. "Mrs. Mills, the jury's back with a verdict." "Thanks, Coope," Jo called back. "Well, this is the moment we've all been waiting for," George said, as they made their way towards the courtroom. "I almost don't want to know," Karen admitted. When they arrived in the gallery, everyone was there waiting for them, and Karen slipped in beside Yvonne, wanting to be able to give her some moral support, now that the moment had come.
When the jury filed back in, Yvonne's hand slipped into Karen's. She couldn't help it, she needed to know that someone was there with her. Karen gave Yvonne's hand a squeeze. The clerk of the court asked the foreman of the jury to stand. The atmosphere was electric, the silence heavy with the weight of the tension in every muscle. "On the charge of murder, do you find Miss Lauren Atkins, guilty or not guilty?" "Not, guilty," The foreman's words were clearly spaced. Karen felt her hand being forcefully gripped, with the moment of truth finally here. "On the reduced charge of manslaughter, by virtue of diminished responsibility, do you find Miss Lauren Atkins, guilty or not guilty?" The foreman seemed to hold his breath, as if not wanting to pass the verdict. "Guilty." The word echoed round the courtroom like a pistol shot. A murmuring of voices ran round the gallery, but Yvonne stayed deadly silent, not an ounce of colour in her face. She knew only too well that for manslaughter, any sentence up to and including life could be given. "Miss Atkins," John's voice resonated round the court. "Would you please stand up?" When she did so, he fixed his gaze on her. "Throughout this trial, I have heard many reasons why you chose to commit the act you did, of brutally killing another human being. Now, whilst you are undoubtedly a very mentally troubled young woman, I cannot condone your actions, and must therefore pass a sentence which befits both the crime, and your particular situation. It is incumbent upon me to impose a sentence that the general public can take seriously, yet at the same time, to ensure that you are provided with the psychiatric treatment that you clearly need. You have been in custody on remand for just over a year now, and I sentence you to one further year in custody. Your custodial sentence is as light as this, because I do not believe that you will receive adequate psychiatric care whilst you are serving your sentence, Her Majesty's prisons being as over-populated as they are. Once you are released from prison, I am ordering that you must receive whatever psychiatric treatment that may be recommended for you. However, to ensure that you sufficiently learn your lesson, the day of your release, will be the start of a five year suspended sentence. This means, that if, at any point during the ensuing five years, you commit any crime, you can be recalled to prison immediately, and this will be non-negotiable. This is in an attempt to first of all, punish you in a satisfactory manner, to secondly, ensure that you receive the psychiatric treatment you require, and to thirdly, guarantee that you do not appear in court again. In committing this crime, you have caused your mother, and those others who deeply care for you, an inestimable amount of pain and suffering, and I hope that your custodial sentence will give you ample opportunity to reflect on this. Miss Atkins, I do not expect to see you appear before me again. Take her down."
There was a brief, stunned silence from the gallery as Lauren was led away. They stood automatically when the clerk called out "All rise," and like preprogrammed robots, began to make their way downstairs. Nobody said a word, none of them knowing what to say. But when they reached the foyer, Yvonne turned to George. "Why did he do that?" She asked, her face still expressionless. "Yvonne, I gave up trying to fathom the workings of John's mind years ago," George said gently. "So please don't ask me to start now." When Jo came up to them, she looked sad, guilty, and worn out all in one. "Yvonne, I'm so sorry," She said, really feeling as though she'd lost, no matter how much she'd thought this might be the outcome all along. "Hey, don't be," Yvonne said, touched by the feeling in Jo's face. "You did your best for Lauren, and we both know it could have turned out a hell of a lot worse. So don't beat yourself up about it. You worked a bloody miracle in there, and don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise." Jo was incredibly touched by Yvonne's words, but it didn't stop her feeling as though she'd failed. Yvonne's eyes shifted away from her suddenly, to take in the form of John, slowly walking towards them. Before any of them could stop her, Yvonne had broken free of them, and was striding purposefully towards him. When she stood in front of him, they simply looked at each other. "Thank you," Yvonne said quietly, as the tears began streaming down her face. "Thank you so much for what you did." John was speechless. If he'd expected any personal reaction from Yvonne Atkins, it wasn't this. Acting instinctively, he put out his arms and drew her firmly to him. He held Yvonne as she sobbed into his shoulder, feeling all the tension that had been building up in her, ever since Lauren had plunged her into a mixture of fear and despair. "I can't ever thank you enough, for not writing off my daughter's life." "All I want you to do," He said, his own voice a little unsteady with the emotion he could feel pouring over him. "Is to make sure that your daughter is never in my court, or any court again. When she comes out of prison, make sure she gets the care and treatment she needs. You are perhaps, one of the most loyal, caring, utterly devoted mothers I have ever had the pleasure to meet, so I know you can do that. Now, go home, gather all your friends around you, and get on with your life."