Part Sixty-Eight
By the time Yvonne had popped home briefly and was off in her car to Larkhall, ugly grey clouds churned their way rapidly across the sky. In no time at all, squally gusts of wind threw sheets of rain directly at her car, steaming up the windows and, even going full blast, the windscreen wipers were barely keeping up with the assault on them from the elements. Despite all this, she was happy, the hard driving gutsy singing coming from her Heart CD matched her spirits, even with the tricky prospect of seeing Denny at Larkhall.
"Back again so soon?" Ken at the gatehouse greeted her amiably enough. "I've come to visit Denny Blood this time. Mrs. Hollamby told me herself, personally that she couldn't wait to see me again soon. What else could I do when she put it that way?" "I bet," Laughed Ken. "You'll get made an official prison visitor at this rate." "Yeah and I'd show off my nice new shiny badge to her. She'd love that." A few laughs and jokes with Yvonne brightened up his day. On an endlessly weary Sunday shift, he was tired all the way to his bones and dying to get back to home cooking, his armchair and the sports on the television. He was staying in his draughty gatehouse window, which was better than the rain lashed square, which the visitors had to cross.
"It's nearly visiting time, Denny," Lauren called out anxiously. "You know you've got to look your best." Instantly, Lauren heard her mother down the years saying those very same words. Big mistake. Denny's way of facing the day was that uncertain mixture of doubts, sudden blind instinct in any direction, irrational fear, the after effects of whatever chemicals were in her system and periods when chance placed her into the role of Big Sister. Most of all, whoever was strong for her and could influence her, either good or bad. Lauren knew enough that her ability to be that influence for good was very hit and miss.
"I don't give a fuck what I look like, Lauren. You should know that by now." "Look here, Denny," Lauren reasoned patiently. "Think, what's your best way of facing the day?" "A fist full of jellies," Denny answered morosely.
"Well, you're not bloody well going to do that. You're going to see mum and you're not backing out of this." "What's wrong with jellies. They calm you down." "Yeah, right. So calm that you're out of it and depressed so you end up taking whizz to cheer you up so you don't eat, you can't sleep and it makes you paranoid. I've seen some of the other girls go that way." Denny scowled at Lauren's ruthlessly precise description of the drugs cycle, which she had fallen into ever since the trial. It was far easier to resort to this physical crutch than face the fear, which had paralysed her ever since the trial. The longer time went on, the more she had tried to block out that fear and the more impossible it felt to face it. She knew she was acting badly and it wasn't just the picture of Yvonne's silent reproach that drove her into a hole. Lauren was beginning to behave more and more like Yvonne and had the same sort of glamorous looks that she thought she was painfully lacking.
"Your family made all its money by selling stuff to people on the street like me," Denny glared.
Lauren turned white as the verbal knife thrust went home. She couldn't deny the fact that far too many women around her had bought their drugs from dealers before they ever came to Larkhall. Somewhere out there, the suppliers for the dealers were the likes of Charlie Atkins who were rich and prosperous and safely cuckooned from the consequences of their actions. It had provided the luxury lifestyle in which she, Ritchie and, yes Mum, had grown up in and had taken for granted.
"All right, Denny," Lauren exhaled the words at last, breathing out deeply as she spoke as if trying to get rid of the feelings of guilt from her body at the same time. "A few days at Larkhall rammed that home. It didn't take rocket science to work that one out when it surrounds us, day in day out in this dump. That's one reason why I was so down for so long, something I could never tell you. I finally realised that I can't do anything about my past, much though I would love to. That's what I finally learnt from all the shit I dumped on everyone around me from killing Fenner. I couldn't undo all that but I could stand in court, day in, day out, while my guilt was being fought on around me. That's what got me out into the witness box which was the most horrible experience of my life, at least one of them. Don't ever think for one minute, Denny Blood, that I was just trying to save my own skin." Lauren's reply built up into a passionate, heartfelt crescendo that opened up the first crack in Denny's numb shell behind which she had walled herself off. She had grabbed Denny by the scruff of her neck and also her full attention.
"Go on, Lauren." "That's why as soon as Charlie, that's my dad, was banged up, I got rid of all that shit and stuck to the car hire business. It was just as well that he was killed on the day he was let off all the charges, by bribing the jury I might add, as he wouldn't have liked what his protege had done with the business……..." At that point, Lauren's voice faltered and her eyes looked downwards in fear of having betrayed the one event in her past which she wanted to remain as surely buried as was Charlie. Fortunately, Denny didn't spot that one. Quickly, Lauren picked up the thread of what she was saying and plunged on.
"The day Charlie went inside was the first time that I began to get some control over my life. I thought stupidly that I could put all that shit behind me in one go but I couldn't be further wrong. That Meg Richards who came to see me that day who I talked to for ages got it absolutely right. The other guy only got half the picture." "OK so you're cured or getting that way. What about me?" Denny asked impatiently. What Lauren told her about herself was fine but she really wanted Lauren to talk about herself.
"You're not going to tell me that you were an innocent child that some evil drug dealer forced you to take stuff. Yeah, the guy was evil, or stupid or drugged up or all three but you can't blame him for everything. From what mum told me, you weren't exactly the woman you'd want to meet down a dark alley." "That's because Shell made me that way," Denny cut in self defensively.
"It's more likely you wanted her attention," Lauren added shrewdly to Denny's discomfort. "Wanting attention isn't wrong," Lauren added kindly after a couple of seconds, which were painfully long to Denny.
"You have to know that there's a lot you have to come to terms with same as I have to do, right. But the Denny Blood who kept me going all those months is the Denny Blood that matters, the one who acted as Big Sister, who is a sister of mine. You can't get away from it, when I get out of Larkhall, I'll be waiting for the day when you get out but you're with us already. It's that there are prison walls in the way, only that. Now are you going to get yourself ready, Denny?" "All right, but don't hassle me, sis." Impulsively, Lauren slipped her arms round Denny's thin shoulders. For one instant, she flinched, as it was a long time that she had that sort of physical contact. She wasn't used to being held, except long ago by Shaz. Instinctively, she felt that this was Lauren's warm-hearted sisterly way and it tipped the balance inside her to give way to this good feeling. She hadn't grown up feeling good about herself. "If I send you out to see mum looking like that, I'm going to carry the can and I'll get a right ear bending when she gets home. You know what she's like so please help me out." For the first time in ages Denny laughed and a big smile lit up her face revealing the big kid she still was. Shaz would have been proud to have seen that.
In the split seconds before the door to the visiting room opened, a rush of ideas for what she might say to Denny churned around inside Yvonne's head with feelings of uncertainty as to what she would find. What was Denny like since she had heard about her from Karen, correction, what Denny had said to Karen before that and how right was Lauren when she had talked to her? At one time, her instinctive feelers knew unquestioningly what was going on around her, prisoners and screws alike. Everything was stored in that faultless memory of hers and was bang up to date. Now it was brought home to her that what she remembered was fading into history. It made her painfully aware of how really distant she was from Larkhall and frustrated her that she was dependent of other people's eyes and ears, not her own. Her stomach lurched as the door opened, not that anyone could see into her mind.
Once the doors were flung open, the usual frantic sense of movement and echoing voices in a confined space spelt out the rush of mothers and daughters and boyfriends and girlfriends to find each other. A few little children, wide eyed with fear, tagged on to the grownups. This time at least, Colin and Selena were on visiting duty and proved that talking nicely and politely could achieve as much order as Bodybag's loud, hectoring style. A rapid glance through the room picked out a rather nervous Denny with at least a faint smile on her face, which her downturned eyes told Yvonne that she was making a tentative peace offering. Yvonne acted in the way that came naturally to her and gave Denny a quick hug before even Dominic and Selena might pick up on what they were doing. Yvonne wasn't their problem but they would feel compelled to observe a universal rule designed to stop drugs getting into Larkhall. Denny's smile was slightly wider but she was still reluctant to speak.
"You know that if I had time, I would give you my typical mum type lecture about using drugs. You have been, haven't you." Yvonne cut to the chase in her best tough/tender, no bullshit fashion. Their privacy was tenuously secured by the background chatter of others trying to cram as much of the pent up conversations in one stream before visiting time ended.
"Lauren has beaten you to it in straightening me out. She doesn't leave anything out, does she?" A big grin split Yvonne's face from ear to ear at the picture it conveyed to her and a huge sense of relief that part of her task had already been completed.
"I mean, she can bang on a bit though I suppose she's right." "I don't need to grill you as to exactly what you've done but I want to know why you did it. You're my daughter, ain't you and I love you as much as Lauren. There ain't any difference between the two of you.
There was something in the hoarse melting tones in Yvonne's voice which soothed the upset child inside Denny but another side of her felt defensive and edgy for letting down the people that she loved, herself most of all. It made it far too easy for her to hate herself. When she got that way, she was apt to try and sound tough and hard to cover up the way she was hurting inside. "I know all this stuff you're telling me but you know what it's like when you're stuck on your own in some poxy cell at night and you've got something under your pillow to take all the pain away." Instant warning bells rang in Yvonne's mind as Denny had conveniently left Lauren out of the picture. She also left out the fact that she would have had to trade her spends with whoever was the local dealer like Al McKenzie. Drugs don't grow under pillows like bleeding mushrooms.
"Anyway, I'll knock all that on the head. There's no chance anyway now Lauren's on the case." Yvonne let that go. It wasn't perfect but it was something. "You're looking really good, Denny. You becoming a makeup expert as well?" Denny shrugged her shoulders far too self deprecatingly for Yvonne's liking.
"Ain't much. Just a bit of Lauren's makeup and her choosing something that was stuffed at the back of her wardrobe." "It really suits you, Denny." "Like the way I normally look doesn't?" Denny snapped back with sudden aggression. A light of sudden understanding dawned on the one little puzzle, the one thing right under her nose, which she'd never spotted.
"So that's the problem." "Problem, what problem?" Denny's edginess and conspicuous self-denial was becoming more and more painfully obvious to Yvonne. In Denny's mind, fear rose up and blotted everything out around her. To make it worse, she was trapped in her seat, trapped under Yvonne's all knowing gaze and trapped by the screws and everyone else round her.
"You don't have to be afraid. Not of me." Yvonne spoke these words with all the gentleness in her nature that she could summon up. Denny was hers and she would look after her. She knew what she wanted to say but she didn't know exactly how to say it. The only problem was that time was running out with seconds to go.
"I've seen you try and make out how hard and tough you are, and I always knew it was an act to cover up how hurt you are inside. Remember that time when I got you to punch your mattress and really let it out before you could cry, yeah……." Denny could not help but nod her head and squeeze back the tears and let Yvonne continue. Yvonne knew that she was holding Denny's attention and starting to feel confident that she was doing fine as long as she didn't stumble in her words. "……. So when Karen and I got you that day out at my house, I could tell that it was a real eye opener and looked like fairyland. You knew that I had a few pounds stashed away but not as much as I have. I'm not bragging about it, I never have done but I'm trying to explain how you might have seen it. The truth is that you've always felt that Lauren and I have the glamour and the money and where do you fit in? I know by the way you dress and those tattoos of yours that you somehow don't love yourself the way you should, and the way Lauren and I do. It's about looks, isn't it." Denny's emotions were pouring out of her, making her breathe in and out and tears started to run down her face. It brought home how little she thought of herself and how kind and understanding Yvonne was. Nobody else had tried so hard for her. Something in her was afraid that she was so emotionally naked, that everything was on display but she clung to her refuge in front of her even though she was the other side of the formica table, which, like the chairs was fastened down. Nothing existed in the crowded smoky room but the two of them.
"So how do I compete with Lauren? I mean, she's great and all that stuff and she's been looking after me since the trial but I can't tell her that I want to be like her and never will be." "So what about when she got jealous and hauled me away? Can you believe it, she was scared that you were closer to me than she was. Don't think that she hasn't got her own scars, the sort that you keep inside. That's why the judge decided this was right for her." Denny's face was a picture. Her face was frowning in deep concentration as she tried to make real in her mind what Yvonne was saying.
"I don't get it. I mean, I'm hearing what you're saying but it doesn't seem real." "I didn't expect it to, Denny. You and Lauren have a long way to go but you'll make it. I know 'cos I'm your mum. Mums know." A foolish smile spread over Denny's face. She didn't get everything Yvonne was saying but this much she did. She would have to try and remember Yvonne's words, to picture her face and imagine her words and she wouldn't mess up for the future.
"One thing I owe you and that is that you looked after Lauren when she was facing the trial. She would never have faced court if you hadn't been there. I couldn't do it from outside but you did. I'll never forget that and Lauren won't. Not in a million years." "Did I really do that?" Denny asked questioningly.
"Who else?" Yvonne smiled with all the tenderness there was in her heart.
"I'll straighten up. I promise. Or at least I'll try to." "That's what I want to hear from you. No fancy promises but something I know you'll do." There was a thoughtful pause between the two of them as a realistic picture of the future started to unfold, one they would all have to struggle for.
"You're taking on a lot with looking after the two of us," Denny added with a grin of the prospect of all three strong-minded women under the same roof. For once, she allowed herself to look to the future knowing that the everyday grind of Larkhall would soon bury it but it would not be forgotten. This was a big step for a woman like Denny, who life had taught her to be eternally distrustful since she was born. She had found it better not to expect too much of life, of other people so that when she was let down, she didn't feel the pain so much.
"That's what I'm here for." Yvonne's simple, softly spoken words hung in the air just long enough before there came the inevitable call of "Times up."
As Yvonne drove away from Larkhall, she was drained from the sheer mental concentration but it left her thinking tenderly of the two women in her care, even if it was at a long distance. She was getting ready to settle down to a satisfying drive back home and put her feet up for a well deserved rest when it hit her totally by surprise that John was coming round for dinner. It was time to slip into carefree single woman mode especially in view of what she was sure was in store for her. She grinned at the thought of her choice of company, a high Court judge, and hoped that it would make that bastard Charlie Atkins choke on the thought. It raised two fingers to his memory.
At that precise moment, John laid aside the court papers that he had diligently ploughed through. He fondly thought that after such devotion to duty, he had earned the right to indulge himself. Surely a little pleasure was in order?
He stared into his mirror as he finished shaving and studied the face which looked back at him. He had always been handsome and age and experience had only added to his attractiveness to the female species. Not for him, the undignified overcompensating of some vulgar application of anti greying treatment to his hair that others of his generation desperately resorted to. He knew that age added a certain something to his finely chiselled features and, added to his natural charm, the combination had never let him down. At moments like these, he was a man and not a judge.
It was extraordinary what happened when he set out to have a perfectly innocent walk in the park and had a chance encounter. Somehow, the woman that he had somehow overlooked all this time jumped out at him. Everything logically followed from there. What was intriguing was that she was not his usual type of woman. He usually favoured the younger blonde waitress who aped his sort of accent. There was something exotically different about Yvonne with her Eastend accent and her very challenging personality. As they say, as he finally approved of himself, variety is the spice of life.
By the time Yvonne had popped home briefly and was off in her car to Larkhall, ugly grey clouds churned their way rapidly across the sky. In no time at all, squally gusts of wind threw sheets of rain directly at her car, steaming up the windows and, even going full blast, the windscreen wipers were barely keeping up with the assault on them from the elements. Despite all this, she was happy, the hard driving gutsy singing coming from her Heart CD matched her spirits, even with the tricky prospect of seeing Denny at Larkhall.
"Back again so soon?" Ken at the gatehouse greeted her amiably enough. "I've come to visit Denny Blood this time. Mrs. Hollamby told me herself, personally that she couldn't wait to see me again soon. What else could I do when she put it that way?" "I bet," Laughed Ken. "You'll get made an official prison visitor at this rate." "Yeah and I'd show off my nice new shiny badge to her. She'd love that." A few laughs and jokes with Yvonne brightened up his day. On an endlessly weary Sunday shift, he was tired all the way to his bones and dying to get back to home cooking, his armchair and the sports on the television. He was staying in his draughty gatehouse window, which was better than the rain lashed square, which the visitors had to cross.
"It's nearly visiting time, Denny," Lauren called out anxiously. "You know you've got to look your best." Instantly, Lauren heard her mother down the years saying those very same words. Big mistake. Denny's way of facing the day was that uncertain mixture of doubts, sudden blind instinct in any direction, irrational fear, the after effects of whatever chemicals were in her system and periods when chance placed her into the role of Big Sister. Most of all, whoever was strong for her and could influence her, either good or bad. Lauren knew enough that her ability to be that influence for good was very hit and miss.
"I don't give a fuck what I look like, Lauren. You should know that by now." "Look here, Denny," Lauren reasoned patiently. "Think, what's your best way of facing the day?" "A fist full of jellies," Denny answered morosely.
"Well, you're not bloody well going to do that. You're going to see mum and you're not backing out of this." "What's wrong with jellies. They calm you down." "Yeah, right. So calm that you're out of it and depressed so you end up taking whizz to cheer you up so you don't eat, you can't sleep and it makes you paranoid. I've seen some of the other girls go that way." Denny scowled at Lauren's ruthlessly precise description of the drugs cycle, which she had fallen into ever since the trial. It was far easier to resort to this physical crutch than face the fear, which had paralysed her ever since the trial. The longer time went on, the more she had tried to block out that fear and the more impossible it felt to face it. She knew she was acting badly and it wasn't just the picture of Yvonne's silent reproach that drove her into a hole. Lauren was beginning to behave more and more like Yvonne and had the same sort of glamorous looks that she thought she was painfully lacking.
"Your family made all its money by selling stuff to people on the street like me," Denny glared.
Lauren turned white as the verbal knife thrust went home. She couldn't deny the fact that far too many women around her had bought their drugs from dealers before they ever came to Larkhall. Somewhere out there, the suppliers for the dealers were the likes of Charlie Atkins who were rich and prosperous and safely cuckooned from the consequences of their actions. It had provided the luxury lifestyle in which she, Ritchie and, yes Mum, had grown up in and had taken for granted.
"All right, Denny," Lauren exhaled the words at last, breathing out deeply as she spoke as if trying to get rid of the feelings of guilt from her body at the same time. "A few days at Larkhall rammed that home. It didn't take rocket science to work that one out when it surrounds us, day in day out in this dump. That's one reason why I was so down for so long, something I could never tell you. I finally realised that I can't do anything about my past, much though I would love to. That's what I finally learnt from all the shit I dumped on everyone around me from killing Fenner. I couldn't undo all that but I could stand in court, day in, day out, while my guilt was being fought on around me. That's what got me out into the witness box which was the most horrible experience of my life, at least one of them. Don't ever think for one minute, Denny Blood, that I was just trying to save my own skin." Lauren's reply built up into a passionate, heartfelt crescendo that opened up the first crack in Denny's numb shell behind which she had walled herself off. She had grabbed Denny by the scruff of her neck and also her full attention.
"Go on, Lauren." "That's why as soon as Charlie, that's my dad, was banged up, I got rid of all that shit and stuck to the car hire business. It was just as well that he was killed on the day he was let off all the charges, by bribing the jury I might add, as he wouldn't have liked what his protege had done with the business……..." At that point, Lauren's voice faltered and her eyes looked downwards in fear of having betrayed the one event in her past which she wanted to remain as surely buried as was Charlie. Fortunately, Denny didn't spot that one. Quickly, Lauren picked up the thread of what she was saying and plunged on.
"The day Charlie went inside was the first time that I began to get some control over my life. I thought stupidly that I could put all that shit behind me in one go but I couldn't be further wrong. That Meg Richards who came to see me that day who I talked to for ages got it absolutely right. The other guy only got half the picture." "OK so you're cured or getting that way. What about me?" Denny asked impatiently. What Lauren told her about herself was fine but she really wanted Lauren to talk about herself.
"You're not going to tell me that you were an innocent child that some evil drug dealer forced you to take stuff. Yeah, the guy was evil, or stupid or drugged up or all three but you can't blame him for everything. From what mum told me, you weren't exactly the woman you'd want to meet down a dark alley." "That's because Shell made me that way," Denny cut in self defensively.
"It's more likely you wanted her attention," Lauren added shrewdly to Denny's discomfort. "Wanting attention isn't wrong," Lauren added kindly after a couple of seconds, which were painfully long to Denny.
"You have to know that there's a lot you have to come to terms with same as I have to do, right. But the Denny Blood who kept me going all those months is the Denny Blood that matters, the one who acted as Big Sister, who is a sister of mine. You can't get away from it, when I get out of Larkhall, I'll be waiting for the day when you get out but you're with us already. It's that there are prison walls in the way, only that. Now are you going to get yourself ready, Denny?" "All right, but don't hassle me, sis." Impulsively, Lauren slipped her arms round Denny's thin shoulders. For one instant, she flinched, as it was a long time that she had that sort of physical contact. She wasn't used to being held, except long ago by Shaz. Instinctively, she felt that this was Lauren's warm-hearted sisterly way and it tipped the balance inside her to give way to this good feeling. She hadn't grown up feeling good about herself. "If I send you out to see mum looking like that, I'm going to carry the can and I'll get a right ear bending when she gets home. You know what she's like so please help me out." For the first time in ages Denny laughed and a big smile lit up her face revealing the big kid she still was. Shaz would have been proud to have seen that.
In the split seconds before the door to the visiting room opened, a rush of ideas for what she might say to Denny churned around inside Yvonne's head with feelings of uncertainty as to what she would find. What was Denny like since she had heard about her from Karen, correction, what Denny had said to Karen before that and how right was Lauren when she had talked to her? At one time, her instinctive feelers knew unquestioningly what was going on around her, prisoners and screws alike. Everything was stored in that faultless memory of hers and was bang up to date. Now it was brought home to her that what she remembered was fading into history. It made her painfully aware of how really distant she was from Larkhall and frustrated her that she was dependent of other people's eyes and ears, not her own. Her stomach lurched as the door opened, not that anyone could see into her mind.
Once the doors were flung open, the usual frantic sense of movement and echoing voices in a confined space spelt out the rush of mothers and daughters and boyfriends and girlfriends to find each other. A few little children, wide eyed with fear, tagged on to the grownups. This time at least, Colin and Selena were on visiting duty and proved that talking nicely and politely could achieve as much order as Bodybag's loud, hectoring style. A rapid glance through the room picked out a rather nervous Denny with at least a faint smile on her face, which her downturned eyes told Yvonne that she was making a tentative peace offering. Yvonne acted in the way that came naturally to her and gave Denny a quick hug before even Dominic and Selena might pick up on what they were doing. Yvonne wasn't their problem but they would feel compelled to observe a universal rule designed to stop drugs getting into Larkhall. Denny's smile was slightly wider but she was still reluctant to speak.
"You know that if I had time, I would give you my typical mum type lecture about using drugs. You have been, haven't you." Yvonne cut to the chase in her best tough/tender, no bullshit fashion. Their privacy was tenuously secured by the background chatter of others trying to cram as much of the pent up conversations in one stream before visiting time ended.
"Lauren has beaten you to it in straightening me out. She doesn't leave anything out, does she?" A big grin split Yvonne's face from ear to ear at the picture it conveyed to her and a huge sense of relief that part of her task had already been completed.
"I mean, she can bang on a bit though I suppose she's right." "I don't need to grill you as to exactly what you've done but I want to know why you did it. You're my daughter, ain't you and I love you as much as Lauren. There ain't any difference between the two of you.
There was something in the hoarse melting tones in Yvonne's voice which soothed the upset child inside Denny but another side of her felt defensive and edgy for letting down the people that she loved, herself most of all. It made it far too easy for her to hate herself. When she got that way, she was apt to try and sound tough and hard to cover up the way she was hurting inside. "I know all this stuff you're telling me but you know what it's like when you're stuck on your own in some poxy cell at night and you've got something under your pillow to take all the pain away." Instant warning bells rang in Yvonne's mind as Denny had conveniently left Lauren out of the picture. She also left out the fact that she would have had to trade her spends with whoever was the local dealer like Al McKenzie. Drugs don't grow under pillows like bleeding mushrooms.
"Anyway, I'll knock all that on the head. There's no chance anyway now Lauren's on the case." Yvonne let that go. It wasn't perfect but it was something. "You're looking really good, Denny. You becoming a makeup expert as well?" Denny shrugged her shoulders far too self deprecatingly for Yvonne's liking.
"Ain't much. Just a bit of Lauren's makeup and her choosing something that was stuffed at the back of her wardrobe." "It really suits you, Denny." "Like the way I normally look doesn't?" Denny snapped back with sudden aggression. A light of sudden understanding dawned on the one little puzzle, the one thing right under her nose, which she'd never spotted.
"So that's the problem." "Problem, what problem?" Denny's edginess and conspicuous self-denial was becoming more and more painfully obvious to Yvonne. In Denny's mind, fear rose up and blotted everything out around her. To make it worse, she was trapped in her seat, trapped under Yvonne's all knowing gaze and trapped by the screws and everyone else round her.
"You don't have to be afraid. Not of me." Yvonne spoke these words with all the gentleness in her nature that she could summon up. Denny was hers and she would look after her. She knew what she wanted to say but she didn't know exactly how to say it. The only problem was that time was running out with seconds to go.
"I've seen you try and make out how hard and tough you are, and I always knew it was an act to cover up how hurt you are inside. Remember that time when I got you to punch your mattress and really let it out before you could cry, yeah……." Denny could not help but nod her head and squeeze back the tears and let Yvonne continue. Yvonne knew that she was holding Denny's attention and starting to feel confident that she was doing fine as long as she didn't stumble in her words. "……. So when Karen and I got you that day out at my house, I could tell that it was a real eye opener and looked like fairyland. You knew that I had a few pounds stashed away but not as much as I have. I'm not bragging about it, I never have done but I'm trying to explain how you might have seen it. The truth is that you've always felt that Lauren and I have the glamour and the money and where do you fit in? I know by the way you dress and those tattoos of yours that you somehow don't love yourself the way you should, and the way Lauren and I do. It's about looks, isn't it." Denny's emotions were pouring out of her, making her breathe in and out and tears started to run down her face. It brought home how little she thought of herself and how kind and understanding Yvonne was. Nobody else had tried so hard for her. Something in her was afraid that she was so emotionally naked, that everything was on display but she clung to her refuge in front of her even though she was the other side of the formica table, which, like the chairs was fastened down. Nothing existed in the crowded smoky room but the two of them.
"So how do I compete with Lauren? I mean, she's great and all that stuff and she's been looking after me since the trial but I can't tell her that I want to be like her and never will be." "So what about when she got jealous and hauled me away? Can you believe it, she was scared that you were closer to me than she was. Don't think that she hasn't got her own scars, the sort that you keep inside. That's why the judge decided this was right for her." Denny's face was a picture. Her face was frowning in deep concentration as she tried to make real in her mind what Yvonne was saying.
"I don't get it. I mean, I'm hearing what you're saying but it doesn't seem real." "I didn't expect it to, Denny. You and Lauren have a long way to go but you'll make it. I know 'cos I'm your mum. Mums know." A foolish smile spread over Denny's face. She didn't get everything Yvonne was saying but this much she did. She would have to try and remember Yvonne's words, to picture her face and imagine her words and she wouldn't mess up for the future.
"One thing I owe you and that is that you looked after Lauren when she was facing the trial. She would never have faced court if you hadn't been there. I couldn't do it from outside but you did. I'll never forget that and Lauren won't. Not in a million years." "Did I really do that?" Denny asked questioningly.
"Who else?" Yvonne smiled with all the tenderness there was in her heart.
"I'll straighten up. I promise. Or at least I'll try to." "That's what I want to hear from you. No fancy promises but something I know you'll do." There was a thoughtful pause between the two of them as a realistic picture of the future started to unfold, one they would all have to struggle for.
"You're taking on a lot with looking after the two of us," Denny added with a grin of the prospect of all three strong-minded women under the same roof. For once, she allowed herself to look to the future knowing that the everyday grind of Larkhall would soon bury it but it would not be forgotten. This was a big step for a woman like Denny, who life had taught her to be eternally distrustful since she was born. She had found it better not to expect too much of life, of other people so that when she was let down, she didn't feel the pain so much.
"That's what I'm here for." Yvonne's simple, softly spoken words hung in the air just long enough before there came the inevitable call of "Times up."
As Yvonne drove away from Larkhall, she was drained from the sheer mental concentration but it left her thinking tenderly of the two women in her care, even if it was at a long distance. She was getting ready to settle down to a satisfying drive back home and put her feet up for a well deserved rest when it hit her totally by surprise that John was coming round for dinner. It was time to slip into carefree single woman mode especially in view of what she was sure was in store for her. She grinned at the thought of her choice of company, a high Court judge, and hoped that it would make that bastard Charlie Atkins choke on the thought. It raised two fingers to his memory.
At that precise moment, John laid aside the court papers that he had diligently ploughed through. He fondly thought that after such devotion to duty, he had earned the right to indulge himself. Surely a little pleasure was in order?
He stared into his mirror as he finished shaving and studied the face which looked back at him. He had always been handsome and age and experience had only added to his attractiveness to the female species. Not for him, the undignified overcompensating of some vulgar application of anti greying treatment to his hair that others of his generation desperately resorted to. He knew that age added a certain something to his finely chiselled features and, added to his natural charm, the combination had never let him down. At moments like these, he was a man and not a judge.
It was extraordinary what happened when he set out to have a perfectly innocent walk in the park and had a chance encounter. Somehow, the woman that he had somehow overlooked all this time jumped out at him. Everything logically followed from there. What was intriguing was that she was not his usual type of woman. He usually favoured the younger blonde waitress who aped his sort of accent. There was something exotically different about Yvonne with her Eastend accent and her very challenging personality. As they say, as he finally approved of himself, variety is the spice of life.