A/N: Betaed by Jen.
Part Seventy-One
When Nikki had received Karen's call on the Wednesday, inviting them over for dinner at George's on the Saturday, she had been pleasantly surprised. "This a special occasion, is it?" Nikki asked. "I've got something to tell Helen, and I'm not entirely sure how she's going to take it," Karen admitted. "That sounds ominous," Nikki replied, not wanting to hear anything that might put any strain on Helen and Karen's friendship again. They had managed to repair the damage that Fenner's interference had caused, but Nikki knew that her part in that was still there in Karen's mind. "I'm hoping she'll be happy for me, but I'd like to be in friendly surroundings when I tell her." "Well, I'm working every night this week, so Trisha shouldn't get funny about me taking Saturday off," Nikki said decisively. "You're really not enjoying working with her, are you?" Karen said sympathetically. "No, but until I get any bright ideas about what to do next, it's all I've got."
George was looking forward to Saturday. She liked the challenge of cooking for people, showing off one of her skills that wasn't remotely connected to the legal profession. This would also give her ample opportunity to get to know a couple of Karen's friends a lot better than she did. She'd liked Nikki instantly, feeling a certain gratitude at the way Nikki had tried to include her with the rest of them on that first day of Lauren's trial, which now seemed a lifetime ago, and she knew that it would do her good to be in the company of people from whom she wouldn't have to hide her relationship with Karen. On the Saturday afternoon, she put some happy music on, something she could sing to, and began making the pudding, because it required a few hours in the fridge to set. As she washed and de-stalked strawberries, halved grapes and sliced kiwi fruit, she sang to the CD she'd put on in the lounge, feeling lighter of heart than she had done in a while. She knew that at this point in her life, she was happy. She had John, on a leash so to speak, giving her as much or as little attention as she wanted. She had Karen, who was introducing her to a side of her personality that she'd been dying to explore for years. She had Jo, who was becoming the closest friend she'd ever had, helping to keep her on the straight and narrow if she looked in danger of straying off the rails. She hadn't had a row with Charlie in ages, and she was still seeing a lot of and getting on very well with her father. In her eyes, things couldn't possibly be better. The fruit would be placed decoratively in a meringue base, then to be topped with homemade chocolate mousse and cream, and to be further decorated with chocolate leaves. She hadn't made this pudding for ages, but the occasion seemed to demand something special. The only thing Karen had told her to steer clear of was avocado, because Helen loathed it, but otherwise she had a free rein. She knew that Karen was worried about telling Helen about her new job, but George personally didn't think Helen would be anything other than pleased for her. Karen was almost desperate to maintain her friendship with Helen, to avoid doing anything that might send it back into the rocky waters it had been in when Karen lived with Fenner. As she arranged the fruit inside the meringue, her thoughts turned to John. There had been something a little different about him this week, not exactly distant, maybe just preoccupied. He had certainly had something on his mind, though for the life of her she couldn't imagine what it was. It hadn't stopped him from being his usual, amorous self though. She couldn't help but to smirk at the strawberries as she thought of this. She must be the luckiest woman in the world, with a male and a female lover, both satisfying her every sexual need. She wasn't sure how long it would last, this contented equilibrium, but right now that didn't matter. She was happy, Karen was happy, and John and Jo were happy. Retrieving the chocolate mousse she'd made earlier, she began folding it over the fruit, not leaving any gaps, but creating a suggestion of the juicy delicacies underneath. Rather like clothes, she thought. Next came the cream, which she piped around the edges and in little zigzag spirals over the top. Finally, she got out the packet of pre-prepared chocolate leaves. Not even she was going to spend hours creating those. Placing them here and there over the top of the pudding, she stood back to admire her handy work. "Not bad, even if I do say so myself," She said out loud, thinking that it had been far too long since she'd had reason to make something so erotically sumptuous. When she'd cleared away the debris from the pudding, and put her glorious creation in the fridge, she began to make the apricot and cashew nut stuffing for the chicken. George loved this stuffing, it making an ordinary roast chicken just that little bit special. Once the stuffing was made, she began cramming it inside the plump breast of the chicken, eventually putting a tiny skewer through the skin to keep it in place. Putting the bird in the oven on a low heat to start with, she peeled the potatoes, which would only need to be sautéed at the last minute with some thyme and parsley. Whilst she was in the middle of chopping the parsnips for the parsnip puree, the doorbell rang. Wiping her hands on a dishcloth, she went to answer it. Standing on the doorstep, holding a bag that looked like it contained several bottles of wine, was Karen. "I thought I'd come and see if you wanted a hand with anything," Karen said as she moved into the hall. "Not so far," George said as they went into the kitchen. "Though a glass of wine would go down a treat, and then I must have a bath." Whilst George threw the chunks of parsnip into the blender, with cream, lemon juice and black pepper, Karen opened a bottle of chilled Chablis that had been resting in the fridge, and poured them both a glass. They didn't talk whilst the blender did its work, and when George had transferred the contents to a bowl, she dipped in a finger and tasted it. "Even raw that tastes divine," She said, after licking her finger. Putting this in the fridge until it was needed, she went upstairs for a bath, leaving Karen to set the table. About an hour later, when George reappeared, she looked sensational. "I don't know which looks more delectable," Karen said with a smile. "You or that pudding." "Well, as long as that pudding doesn't start to separate, I don't mind," George replied, for once knowing that she looked infinitely more beautiful than the food she had created. A pleasant aroma of roasting chicken was beginning to fill the house, briefly reminding George of the days when she cooked for more than herself on a regular basis.
When Helen and Nikki arrived, Nikki's words as she locked the car made Helen smile. "Jesus, it certainly looks like she's landed on her feet." "Nikki, Karen is not a gold digger," Helen said with a laugh, knowing Nikki didn't really mean it. "Oh, I know, but with Yvonne and now George, she's somehow managed to find the rich ones." "And look how her relationship with Yvonne ended," Helen reminded her soberly. When George let them in, Helen handed her some wine and some flowers. "I wasn't sure if you were a chocolate person," Helen said with a smile. "They're lovely," George replied, thinking that yes, flowers were always more preferable than things she would feel guilty for eating. "Nice place you have here," Nikki commented, as they moved into the lounge. "I've lived here for over twenty seven years now." "Hey, you," Helen said fondly to Karen, as George went to get them drinks. "What's this piece of news you've got to tell me?" "I'll tell you later," Karen said, and Helen could see that though she appeared to be relaxed on the surface, there was an underlying nervous tension in her, as if she was anticipating an earthquake. "Something smells good," Nikki said, as George handed her a glass of wine. "Roast chicken with apricot and cashew nut stuffing," George replied. "Sounds gorgeous," Nikki said, clearly looking forward to it. "Was Trisha all right about you having the night off?" Karen asked. "I expect she whinged about it," Nikki replied nonchalantly. "But to be honest, it goes in one ear and out the other these days. I'm so bored, that I'd even consider applying for a job at Larkhall if there was one going." Karen couldn't prevent a broad smile crossing her face. Jesus, Nikki Wade might be the answer to all her problems. But she'd have to bide her time a little, and do a lot of spade work with area before it could even be considered. "Tell me I'm being nosy," Nikki said, looking over at the painting above the piano. "But is that a Stubs?" George smiled. "Yes. Daddy gave it to me for my twenty-first. He knew I was probably going to marry John, and I think he thought that if it didn't work out, I could sell it. But no way was I going to part with it." Nikki heard the depth of fondness in George's voice for her father, and it made her briefly wish she'd had something remotely as close with her own parents.
A little while later when George went into the kitchen to do the last minute cooking of the parsnip puree, the spinach, and the sautéing of the potatoes, both Karen and Nikki asked her if she wanted them to do anything. "No, really, it's fine," George replied. "I get quite territorial when I'm cooking." "I would offer," Said Helen with a grin. "But Nikki will tell you, that if it doesn't involve a microwave, I'm absolutely no use in the kitchen." Smiling at Helen over her shoulder, George left them to it. "You just like having someone to do all the cooking," Nikki said with a fond smile. "I can't help it if both Sean and Thomas were far better with a bread knife than I was," Helen insisted. When they eventually sat round the mahogany dining table that could comfortably seat eight, and Karen had helped to carry in the dishes, Nikki positively groaned at the sight of the plump-breasted chicken, which was emitting a combination of wonderful aromas. "After three years of the Julies' cooking," She said with a self-deprecating smile. "You get a bit obsessed with good food." "They're not that bad," Karen tried to defend the two most reliable cooks and cleaners she'd ever had on G wing. "How're they getting on?" Helen asked. "Still five years to do, and that's as long as they don't get into any more trouble," Karen said resignedly. As George began to carve the chicken, they could se just how succulent the meat was, as tender as the best fillet steak, and as juicy as an orange. When Karen had handed round the potatoes, garnished with a scattering of parsley, the parsnip puree and the spinach, both she and George sat down, and George filled up their glasses. "So, are you going to finally put me out of my misery?" Helen asked, quite unable to wait any longer. After taking a swig of her wine to give her courage, Karen cleared her throat. "I've been made Governing Governor of Larkhall." Instantly, a broad smile spread over Helen's face. "Oh, well done," She said, immediately getting to her feet, and walking round the table to give Karen a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "You soft sod," She said affectionately. "Did you think I'd be jealous or something?" "No, I don't know, I just wasn't sure how you would react." "Honestly," Helen said as she sat down and picked up her knife and fork. "And you didn't even tell me you had a promotion board." "She hardly told anyone," George filled in with a soft smile. "Only I and Grayling knew she'd gone for the interview." "Was it hell?" Helen asked, remembering her various promotion boards whilst she'd been at Larkhall. "Alison Warner tried to use her size fives on me, but I gave her pretty short shrift." "Only way to treat that brainless cow," Helen replied, after swallowing a mouthful of chicken. "George, this is beautiful," She said, now thoroughly relaxed by Karen having got what she'd wanted to say out in the open. "George knows Alison Warner," Karen put in, watching in amusement as Helen's face went scarlet. "Oh, don't worry," Said George with a laugh. "She's no friend of mine, and brainless cow is probably the best description anyone could come up with for her." "How do you know her?" Nikki asked around a mouthful of stuffing. "I managed to get her off paying an enormous fine, for violation of the Data Protection Act some years ago, before she started working for the prison service." "The only way to deal with her," Helen said decisively. "Which as number one, you will have to from time to time, is to stay as rigidly calm as possible." "I couldn't agree with you more," George said, taking a swig of her wine. "Remain totally aloof and detached, and she'll always be the one to crack first." "When she accused me of being responsible for Shell and Denny's escape," Helen continued. "She was the one who got all stressed about it. She was desperate to pin it on me, and when she couldn't, it was as if it was her own personal tragedy." George laughed. "She was just like that, when I used that particular incident as blackmail on her during the trial." "During Lauren's trial?" Nikki asked in slight astonishment. "Well, after what you two told Jo about Di Barker, it seemed the only way to get hold of her personnel file. So, I carefully reminded Mrs. Warner, that I had a staggering amount of evidence to prove that she hadn't done her job after the three escapes, which had come into my hands when Jo and I were putting the case together against Fenner. She wasn't very pleased to say the least." "What I wouldn't give to have heard that," Helen said, clearly impressed. "I wondered where Jo had managed to lay her hands on all that stuff," Nikki put in. "Now it makes sense." After they'd finished eating, and all had a cigarette break, George returned with the pudding, now looking glossy, firm, and extremely erotic. "Did Karen tell you," Helen said slowly. "That I'm a bit of a closet chocoholic?" "No, she didn't," George said with a broad smile. "In that case, I definitely hope the chocolate mousse is still as good as when I made it earlier." The combination of the crisp meringue base, the juicy tang of the fruit, and the bittersweet mixture of chocolate mousse and cream, made that pudding a thing to remember. As George reached to fill their glasses, Nikki said to Helen, "Am I driving, or are you?" "Go on then," Helen said, putting a hand over her glass. "It's your night off, so I'll drive." "I don't think I'll move for a week now," Nikki said as she put down her spoon. "That was lovely." "Shall you and me do the washing up?" Helen asked, looking over at Karen, and the other two could see that Helen wanted the excuse to talk to Karen alone.
When they were half way through the washing up, Helen said, "You're really happy with George, aren't you?" "Yes," Karen said with a warm smile. "It's hard to explain, but at the moment, she doesn't want anything very committed from me, which is exactly how I like it." "To be honest," Helen said carefully. "It's probably for the best. I found it hard enough with Sean and with Nikki when I was at Larkhall. They don't tell you, but the prison service doesn't allow for that much of a private life." "It's odd, but George, she's just so, I don't know, beautiful, sensitive, incredibly complicated, and doesn't mind me cracking up every so often, all in one." "Sounds pretty bloody perfect to me," Helen replied, thinking that the sheer happiness in Karen's voice was the best thing she'd heard in a long time. "Yeah, at the moment, it is. I'm not sure quite how long it will last, but for now, I don't care." "Why?" Helen was curious now. "I shouldn't really tell you, and it sounds completely mad, but the reason she doesn't want anything heavy from me, is because she's still involved to a certain extent with John." "With the judge? But I thought he was her ex." "Oh, he is. He is sleeping with both Jo and George, who are both aware of the situation, and George is sleeping with me as well. I said it was complicated, didn't I." "Well, as long as it works, each to their own, I suppose." "Believe it or not, it does work. Before he started sleeping with George again, John had a different woman every week. So, Jo came up with the idea of restricting him to George and only George." "Good God, talk about a grip of steel," Helen said, sincerely impressed. "And so far, he hasn't gone back on the arrangement, which means that Jo is a lot happier, and George has back what she never entirely got over." "Karen, I know you said that you're happy with the way things are, but just be careful," Helen said quietly. "I'm not going to get hurt, at least not by George," Karen said with utter certainty. After a moment's silence, Helen finally approached what she'd really wanted to say. "Did you really think I wouldn't be pleased for you?" She asked, as Karen put the plates away in the cupboard. "I wasn't sure," Karen admitted. "When you were Governing Governor, I was a complete cow, and whilst I know that shouldn't have any bearing on me being Governing Governor, I just didn't want it to bring back any awkward memories." "Listen," Helen said, feeling a rush of emotion at Karen's words. "I know how strong Fenner's influence was, and whilst I might have been angry and frustrated with you at the time, I know it wasn't your fault. At least you never let him force you out of a job." "He might not have been able to, if I'd listened to you," Karen found herself saying. "You don't know that," Helen said quietly. "Just do one thing for me, just make sure you do a better job of it than I did."
As George and Nikki happily left the others to it, sitting down in the lounge and immediately lighting cigarettes, Nikki's eyes again strayed to the paintings, the Stubs above the piano, and the Monet above the fireplace. "Are you into paintings?" George asked, after taking a grateful drag of her cigarette. "Sort of," Nikki replied, forcing her attention back to George. "I nearly got involved with someone who was, while I was inside. I learnt a lot from her, one way and another, only then she turned out to be a sex offender." "Oh, dear," George said in sympathy. "Yeah, I had it pointed out to me by Maxi bloody Purvis of all people." "Ouch. What happened?" "Helen had Caroline transferred. Good thing really, or I might have ended up doing a stretch for GBH alongside the Julies." "A couple of years ago, I defended a company who, in the name of success at any cost, managed to put child pornography on John's computer, because they knew he wasn't open to bribery and corruption. I had absolutely no idea they would even consider doing such a thing, so I know that finding out something like that can be quite a shock." Nikki was touched at the feeling in George's words, and knew that Karen would be happy with this woman. "Did Karen really think Helen wouldn't be pleased for her?" Nikki asked, trying to take them away from anything dark. "Karen still feels incredibly guilty for how she was with Helen, when Helen was Governing Governor. I doubt she'll ever stop feeling guilty about that. I think she just wants to avoid anything that might put her and Helen back to the way they were then. It's totally irrational, because Karen being made Governing Governor, doesn't mean anything of the sort will happen, but who ever said that fears were rational." "Karen shouldn't still feel guilty about that," Nikki said gently. "Helen knows just how much of an influence Fenner had over her. Jesus, I saw him do exactly the same to Rachel Hicks." "Was she the young girl who hanged herself in her cell?" "Yeah, that's the one. I lost count of the times I warned her off Fenner, but once he had his claws in, that was it." George then saw Nikki stare at something by George's feet, and then immediately move her eyes away. "What?" George asked, seeing Nikki's eyes moving back as if drawn, to whatever she'd seen. Nikki began to laugh quietly. "What?" George persisted, wondering just what was about to embarrass her. "From here," Nikki said, still laughing. "It looks like a bra strap." Bending down, George retrieved her black bra that had been so unceremoniously shoved under the sofa on Tuesday night. "Oh," She said, a faint blush staining her cheeks. "I wondered where that had got to." "I don't know why," Nikki said, clearly talking from experience. "But it's always bras that turn up in the most unexpected places." "Do you two want coffee?" Karen asked, coming into the lounge. "Where did that spring from?" She asked, glancing at the small black bra in George's hand. "It was sticking out from under the sofa," George replied, now seeing the funny side. "Oh, that must have been from Tuesday," Karen replied, thinking that the shy little blush made George look incredibly sweet. Quickly running upstairs to dispose of her wayward underwear, George thought that she'd not had such a relaxing, amusing, and above all, normal evening for quite a long time. She wasn't at all used to an abundance of female company, but she knew she could come to like Helen and Nikki enormously. It made her feel younger somehow, doing something as perfectly ordinary as cooking a meal, and having a few too many with a couple of friends. A good while later, as they stood on the doorstep and watched Helen and Nikki drive away, George felt thoroughly content. When she'd closed and locked the front door, Karen put her arms round her and kissed her. "Thank you for tonight," She said into George's hair. "I enjoyed it," George replied, kissing her back, knowing that this new area of her life, this being in love with a woman, and getting to know other women in a way she wouldn't previously have contemplated, was exactly what she wanted. If it was making her happy, which for now it appeared to be, then this was how she wanted it to stay.
Part Seventy-One
When Nikki had received Karen's call on the Wednesday, inviting them over for dinner at George's on the Saturday, she had been pleasantly surprised. "This a special occasion, is it?" Nikki asked. "I've got something to tell Helen, and I'm not entirely sure how she's going to take it," Karen admitted. "That sounds ominous," Nikki replied, not wanting to hear anything that might put any strain on Helen and Karen's friendship again. They had managed to repair the damage that Fenner's interference had caused, but Nikki knew that her part in that was still there in Karen's mind. "I'm hoping she'll be happy for me, but I'd like to be in friendly surroundings when I tell her." "Well, I'm working every night this week, so Trisha shouldn't get funny about me taking Saturday off," Nikki said decisively. "You're really not enjoying working with her, are you?" Karen said sympathetically. "No, but until I get any bright ideas about what to do next, it's all I've got."
George was looking forward to Saturday. She liked the challenge of cooking for people, showing off one of her skills that wasn't remotely connected to the legal profession. This would also give her ample opportunity to get to know a couple of Karen's friends a lot better than she did. She'd liked Nikki instantly, feeling a certain gratitude at the way Nikki had tried to include her with the rest of them on that first day of Lauren's trial, which now seemed a lifetime ago, and she knew that it would do her good to be in the company of people from whom she wouldn't have to hide her relationship with Karen. On the Saturday afternoon, she put some happy music on, something she could sing to, and began making the pudding, because it required a few hours in the fridge to set. As she washed and de-stalked strawberries, halved grapes and sliced kiwi fruit, she sang to the CD she'd put on in the lounge, feeling lighter of heart than she had done in a while. She knew that at this point in her life, she was happy. She had John, on a leash so to speak, giving her as much or as little attention as she wanted. She had Karen, who was introducing her to a side of her personality that she'd been dying to explore for years. She had Jo, who was becoming the closest friend she'd ever had, helping to keep her on the straight and narrow if she looked in danger of straying off the rails. She hadn't had a row with Charlie in ages, and she was still seeing a lot of and getting on very well with her father. In her eyes, things couldn't possibly be better. The fruit would be placed decoratively in a meringue base, then to be topped with homemade chocolate mousse and cream, and to be further decorated with chocolate leaves. She hadn't made this pudding for ages, but the occasion seemed to demand something special. The only thing Karen had told her to steer clear of was avocado, because Helen loathed it, but otherwise she had a free rein. She knew that Karen was worried about telling Helen about her new job, but George personally didn't think Helen would be anything other than pleased for her. Karen was almost desperate to maintain her friendship with Helen, to avoid doing anything that might send it back into the rocky waters it had been in when Karen lived with Fenner. As she arranged the fruit inside the meringue, her thoughts turned to John. There had been something a little different about him this week, not exactly distant, maybe just preoccupied. He had certainly had something on his mind, though for the life of her she couldn't imagine what it was. It hadn't stopped him from being his usual, amorous self though. She couldn't help but to smirk at the strawberries as she thought of this. She must be the luckiest woman in the world, with a male and a female lover, both satisfying her every sexual need. She wasn't sure how long it would last, this contented equilibrium, but right now that didn't matter. She was happy, Karen was happy, and John and Jo were happy. Retrieving the chocolate mousse she'd made earlier, she began folding it over the fruit, not leaving any gaps, but creating a suggestion of the juicy delicacies underneath. Rather like clothes, she thought. Next came the cream, which she piped around the edges and in little zigzag spirals over the top. Finally, she got out the packet of pre-prepared chocolate leaves. Not even she was going to spend hours creating those. Placing them here and there over the top of the pudding, she stood back to admire her handy work. "Not bad, even if I do say so myself," She said out loud, thinking that it had been far too long since she'd had reason to make something so erotically sumptuous. When she'd cleared away the debris from the pudding, and put her glorious creation in the fridge, she began to make the apricot and cashew nut stuffing for the chicken. George loved this stuffing, it making an ordinary roast chicken just that little bit special. Once the stuffing was made, she began cramming it inside the plump breast of the chicken, eventually putting a tiny skewer through the skin to keep it in place. Putting the bird in the oven on a low heat to start with, she peeled the potatoes, which would only need to be sautéed at the last minute with some thyme and parsley. Whilst she was in the middle of chopping the parsnips for the parsnip puree, the doorbell rang. Wiping her hands on a dishcloth, she went to answer it. Standing on the doorstep, holding a bag that looked like it contained several bottles of wine, was Karen. "I thought I'd come and see if you wanted a hand with anything," Karen said as she moved into the hall. "Not so far," George said as they went into the kitchen. "Though a glass of wine would go down a treat, and then I must have a bath." Whilst George threw the chunks of parsnip into the blender, with cream, lemon juice and black pepper, Karen opened a bottle of chilled Chablis that had been resting in the fridge, and poured them both a glass. They didn't talk whilst the blender did its work, and when George had transferred the contents to a bowl, she dipped in a finger and tasted it. "Even raw that tastes divine," She said, after licking her finger. Putting this in the fridge until it was needed, she went upstairs for a bath, leaving Karen to set the table. About an hour later, when George reappeared, she looked sensational. "I don't know which looks more delectable," Karen said with a smile. "You or that pudding." "Well, as long as that pudding doesn't start to separate, I don't mind," George replied, for once knowing that she looked infinitely more beautiful than the food she had created. A pleasant aroma of roasting chicken was beginning to fill the house, briefly reminding George of the days when she cooked for more than herself on a regular basis.
When Helen and Nikki arrived, Nikki's words as she locked the car made Helen smile. "Jesus, it certainly looks like she's landed on her feet." "Nikki, Karen is not a gold digger," Helen said with a laugh, knowing Nikki didn't really mean it. "Oh, I know, but with Yvonne and now George, she's somehow managed to find the rich ones." "And look how her relationship with Yvonne ended," Helen reminded her soberly. When George let them in, Helen handed her some wine and some flowers. "I wasn't sure if you were a chocolate person," Helen said with a smile. "They're lovely," George replied, thinking that yes, flowers were always more preferable than things she would feel guilty for eating. "Nice place you have here," Nikki commented, as they moved into the lounge. "I've lived here for over twenty seven years now." "Hey, you," Helen said fondly to Karen, as George went to get them drinks. "What's this piece of news you've got to tell me?" "I'll tell you later," Karen said, and Helen could see that though she appeared to be relaxed on the surface, there was an underlying nervous tension in her, as if she was anticipating an earthquake. "Something smells good," Nikki said, as George handed her a glass of wine. "Roast chicken with apricot and cashew nut stuffing," George replied. "Sounds gorgeous," Nikki said, clearly looking forward to it. "Was Trisha all right about you having the night off?" Karen asked. "I expect she whinged about it," Nikki replied nonchalantly. "But to be honest, it goes in one ear and out the other these days. I'm so bored, that I'd even consider applying for a job at Larkhall if there was one going." Karen couldn't prevent a broad smile crossing her face. Jesus, Nikki Wade might be the answer to all her problems. But she'd have to bide her time a little, and do a lot of spade work with area before it could even be considered. "Tell me I'm being nosy," Nikki said, looking over at the painting above the piano. "But is that a Stubs?" George smiled. "Yes. Daddy gave it to me for my twenty-first. He knew I was probably going to marry John, and I think he thought that if it didn't work out, I could sell it. But no way was I going to part with it." Nikki heard the depth of fondness in George's voice for her father, and it made her briefly wish she'd had something remotely as close with her own parents.
A little while later when George went into the kitchen to do the last minute cooking of the parsnip puree, the spinach, and the sautéing of the potatoes, both Karen and Nikki asked her if she wanted them to do anything. "No, really, it's fine," George replied. "I get quite territorial when I'm cooking." "I would offer," Said Helen with a grin. "But Nikki will tell you, that if it doesn't involve a microwave, I'm absolutely no use in the kitchen." Smiling at Helen over her shoulder, George left them to it. "You just like having someone to do all the cooking," Nikki said with a fond smile. "I can't help it if both Sean and Thomas were far better with a bread knife than I was," Helen insisted. When they eventually sat round the mahogany dining table that could comfortably seat eight, and Karen had helped to carry in the dishes, Nikki positively groaned at the sight of the plump-breasted chicken, which was emitting a combination of wonderful aromas. "After three years of the Julies' cooking," She said with a self-deprecating smile. "You get a bit obsessed with good food." "They're not that bad," Karen tried to defend the two most reliable cooks and cleaners she'd ever had on G wing. "How're they getting on?" Helen asked. "Still five years to do, and that's as long as they don't get into any more trouble," Karen said resignedly. As George began to carve the chicken, they could se just how succulent the meat was, as tender as the best fillet steak, and as juicy as an orange. When Karen had handed round the potatoes, garnished with a scattering of parsley, the parsnip puree and the spinach, both she and George sat down, and George filled up their glasses. "So, are you going to finally put me out of my misery?" Helen asked, quite unable to wait any longer. After taking a swig of her wine to give her courage, Karen cleared her throat. "I've been made Governing Governor of Larkhall." Instantly, a broad smile spread over Helen's face. "Oh, well done," She said, immediately getting to her feet, and walking round the table to give Karen a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "You soft sod," She said affectionately. "Did you think I'd be jealous or something?" "No, I don't know, I just wasn't sure how you would react." "Honestly," Helen said as she sat down and picked up her knife and fork. "And you didn't even tell me you had a promotion board." "She hardly told anyone," George filled in with a soft smile. "Only I and Grayling knew she'd gone for the interview." "Was it hell?" Helen asked, remembering her various promotion boards whilst she'd been at Larkhall. "Alison Warner tried to use her size fives on me, but I gave her pretty short shrift." "Only way to treat that brainless cow," Helen replied, after swallowing a mouthful of chicken. "George, this is beautiful," She said, now thoroughly relaxed by Karen having got what she'd wanted to say out in the open. "George knows Alison Warner," Karen put in, watching in amusement as Helen's face went scarlet. "Oh, don't worry," Said George with a laugh. "She's no friend of mine, and brainless cow is probably the best description anyone could come up with for her." "How do you know her?" Nikki asked around a mouthful of stuffing. "I managed to get her off paying an enormous fine, for violation of the Data Protection Act some years ago, before she started working for the prison service." "The only way to deal with her," Helen said decisively. "Which as number one, you will have to from time to time, is to stay as rigidly calm as possible." "I couldn't agree with you more," George said, taking a swig of her wine. "Remain totally aloof and detached, and she'll always be the one to crack first." "When she accused me of being responsible for Shell and Denny's escape," Helen continued. "She was the one who got all stressed about it. She was desperate to pin it on me, and when she couldn't, it was as if it was her own personal tragedy." George laughed. "She was just like that, when I used that particular incident as blackmail on her during the trial." "During Lauren's trial?" Nikki asked in slight astonishment. "Well, after what you two told Jo about Di Barker, it seemed the only way to get hold of her personnel file. So, I carefully reminded Mrs. Warner, that I had a staggering amount of evidence to prove that she hadn't done her job after the three escapes, which had come into my hands when Jo and I were putting the case together against Fenner. She wasn't very pleased to say the least." "What I wouldn't give to have heard that," Helen said, clearly impressed. "I wondered where Jo had managed to lay her hands on all that stuff," Nikki put in. "Now it makes sense." After they'd finished eating, and all had a cigarette break, George returned with the pudding, now looking glossy, firm, and extremely erotic. "Did Karen tell you," Helen said slowly. "That I'm a bit of a closet chocoholic?" "No, she didn't," George said with a broad smile. "In that case, I definitely hope the chocolate mousse is still as good as when I made it earlier." The combination of the crisp meringue base, the juicy tang of the fruit, and the bittersweet mixture of chocolate mousse and cream, made that pudding a thing to remember. As George reached to fill their glasses, Nikki said to Helen, "Am I driving, or are you?" "Go on then," Helen said, putting a hand over her glass. "It's your night off, so I'll drive." "I don't think I'll move for a week now," Nikki said as she put down her spoon. "That was lovely." "Shall you and me do the washing up?" Helen asked, looking over at Karen, and the other two could see that Helen wanted the excuse to talk to Karen alone.
When they were half way through the washing up, Helen said, "You're really happy with George, aren't you?" "Yes," Karen said with a warm smile. "It's hard to explain, but at the moment, she doesn't want anything very committed from me, which is exactly how I like it." "To be honest," Helen said carefully. "It's probably for the best. I found it hard enough with Sean and with Nikki when I was at Larkhall. They don't tell you, but the prison service doesn't allow for that much of a private life." "It's odd, but George, she's just so, I don't know, beautiful, sensitive, incredibly complicated, and doesn't mind me cracking up every so often, all in one." "Sounds pretty bloody perfect to me," Helen replied, thinking that the sheer happiness in Karen's voice was the best thing she'd heard in a long time. "Yeah, at the moment, it is. I'm not sure quite how long it will last, but for now, I don't care." "Why?" Helen was curious now. "I shouldn't really tell you, and it sounds completely mad, but the reason she doesn't want anything heavy from me, is because she's still involved to a certain extent with John." "With the judge? But I thought he was her ex." "Oh, he is. He is sleeping with both Jo and George, who are both aware of the situation, and George is sleeping with me as well. I said it was complicated, didn't I." "Well, as long as it works, each to their own, I suppose." "Believe it or not, it does work. Before he started sleeping with George again, John had a different woman every week. So, Jo came up with the idea of restricting him to George and only George." "Good God, talk about a grip of steel," Helen said, sincerely impressed. "And so far, he hasn't gone back on the arrangement, which means that Jo is a lot happier, and George has back what she never entirely got over." "Karen, I know you said that you're happy with the way things are, but just be careful," Helen said quietly. "I'm not going to get hurt, at least not by George," Karen said with utter certainty. After a moment's silence, Helen finally approached what she'd really wanted to say. "Did you really think I wouldn't be pleased for you?" She asked, as Karen put the plates away in the cupboard. "I wasn't sure," Karen admitted. "When you were Governing Governor, I was a complete cow, and whilst I know that shouldn't have any bearing on me being Governing Governor, I just didn't want it to bring back any awkward memories." "Listen," Helen said, feeling a rush of emotion at Karen's words. "I know how strong Fenner's influence was, and whilst I might have been angry and frustrated with you at the time, I know it wasn't your fault. At least you never let him force you out of a job." "He might not have been able to, if I'd listened to you," Karen found herself saying. "You don't know that," Helen said quietly. "Just do one thing for me, just make sure you do a better job of it than I did."
As George and Nikki happily left the others to it, sitting down in the lounge and immediately lighting cigarettes, Nikki's eyes again strayed to the paintings, the Stubs above the piano, and the Monet above the fireplace. "Are you into paintings?" George asked, after taking a grateful drag of her cigarette. "Sort of," Nikki replied, forcing her attention back to George. "I nearly got involved with someone who was, while I was inside. I learnt a lot from her, one way and another, only then she turned out to be a sex offender." "Oh, dear," George said in sympathy. "Yeah, I had it pointed out to me by Maxi bloody Purvis of all people." "Ouch. What happened?" "Helen had Caroline transferred. Good thing really, or I might have ended up doing a stretch for GBH alongside the Julies." "A couple of years ago, I defended a company who, in the name of success at any cost, managed to put child pornography on John's computer, because they knew he wasn't open to bribery and corruption. I had absolutely no idea they would even consider doing such a thing, so I know that finding out something like that can be quite a shock." Nikki was touched at the feeling in George's words, and knew that Karen would be happy with this woman. "Did Karen really think Helen wouldn't be pleased for her?" Nikki asked, trying to take them away from anything dark. "Karen still feels incredibly guilty for how she was with Helen, when Helen was Governing Governor. I doubt she'll ever stop feeling guilty about that. I think she just wants to avoid anything that might put her and Helen back to the way they were then. It's totally irrational, because Karen being made Governing Governor, doesn't mean anything of the sort will happen, but who ever said that fears were rational." "Karen shouldn't still feel guilty about that," Nikki said gently. "Helen knows just how much of an influence Fenner had over her. Jesus, I saw him do exactly the same to Rachel Hicks." "Was she the young girl who hanged herself in her cell?" "Yeah, that's the one. I lost count of the times I warned her off Fenner, but once he had his claws in, that was it." George then saw Nikki stare at something by George's feet, and then immediately move her eyes away. "What?" George asked, seeing Nikki's eyes moving back as if drawn, to whatever she'd seen. Nikki began to laugh quietly. "What?" George persisted, wondering just what was about to embarrass her. "From here," Nikki said, still laughing. "It looks like a bra strap." Bending down, George retrieved her black bra that had been so unceremoniously shoved under the sofa on Tuesday night. "Oh," She said, a faint blush staining her cheeks. "I wondered where that had got to." "I don't know why," Nikki said, clearly talking from experience. "But it's always bras that turn up in the most unexpected places." "Do you two want coffee?" Karen asked, coming into the lounge. "Where did that spring from?" She asked, glancing at the small black bra in George's hand. "It was sticking out from under the sofa," George replied, now seeing the funny side. "Oh, that must have been from Tuesday," Karen replied, thinking that the shy little blush made George look incredibly sweet. Quickly running upstairs to dispose of her wayward underwear, George thought that she'd not had such a relaxing, amusing, and above all, normal evening for quite a long time. She wasn't at all used to an abundance of female company, but she knew she could come to like Helen and Nikki enormously. It made her feel younger somehow, doing something as perfectly ordinary as cooking a meal, and having a few too many with a couple of friends. A good while later, as they stood on the doorstep and watched Helen and Nikki drive away, George felt thoroughly content. When she'd closed and locked the front door, Karen put her arms round her and kissed her. "Thank you for tonight," She said into George's hair. "I enjoyed it," George replied, kissing her back, knowing that this new area of her life, this being in love with a woman, and getting to know other women in a way she wouldn't previously have contemplated, was exactly what she wanted. If it was making her happy, which for now it appeared to be, then this was how she wanted it to stay.