Part One Hundred And Eighty Three
As John drove away from the prison, seeing Karen's car turning in the other direction, he wondered what on earth had just happened. Why, after almost two years, had he kissed her? What in god's name had made him do such a thing? Perhaps she was right, he thought, maybe it had been the sheer adrenalin of the situation that had made them both temporarily abandon their usual restraint. But that didn't answer his question about what was going on between Karen and George. Her answer had been very cryptic, because she clearly only suspected most of it, and didn't want to give him something to worry about, unless it was absolutely necessary. But hang on, Karen hadn't said it would worry him, she'd said that she didn't want to give him any false hope. That just made him feel even more confused than he already did. But one thing she had asked him to do, and that was to let George know that she was perfectly safe. Remembering how George had reacted, on the day they'd briefly thought that Charlie might be dead, he couldn't blame Karen for wanting to avoid George's immediate expression of relief.
When he drew up outside George's house, he briefly wondered if he would be granted the answer he sought. Probably not, he mused to himself, as he waited for her to answer the door. George had been waiting for a call, anything, to let her know that Karen was safe, because she'd realised precisely what Karen was going to do. So, when she saw John standing on her doorstep, a thousand questions seemed to emerge from her at once. "Hey, calm down," He told her gently, as he moved into the hall, seeing the lines of worry etched across her brow. "She's fine, I promise." "How could you let her do it, John, how?" She demanded, quite ready to take her relief out on him as Karen wasn't there. "George, this is Karen we're talking about," John said with a slight smile. "I couldn't have stopped her if I'd tried, you know that." "Did she do what I thought she would do?" George asked, leading the way into the lounge, and immediately lighting herself a cigarette. "If you mean, did Karen go up on the roof, to talk Denny down, yes, she did, and except for your occasional phases of self-destruct, I don't think I've ever been more frightened in my life." Finally taking notice of the tension in his entire body, she took his hand, and pulled him down onto the sofa next to her. "Tell me what happened," She said a lot more quietly, giving his hand a squeeze. "She was so blasé about it," John began. "She must have been four floors up, with nothing to protect her from falling so far, yet she looked like she was perfectly at home up there. You've met Denny, so you know how volatile she can be, but Karen didn't seem to be bothered by it. She sat down on that ledge next to Denny, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Denny was cutting herself, which I know got to Karen far more than she is prepared to say. At one point, Karen tried to take the razor blade away from her, and they struggled. I don't think I've ever heard such angry words from anyone. Karen was furious, which is probably what kept her from being pushed over the edge. She told Denny that she wasn't going to sit there, and watch her throw away everything Yvonne had ever done for her. That's why she did it, you know, for Yvonne. When Nikki was trying to persuade her not to go up there, Karen said that if she didn't get Denny down in one piece, Yvonne would never forgive her. You know why, don't you?" "Karen still feels guilty for giving us Lauren's name, doesn't she," George said in realisation. "It doesn't make any sense," John clarified. "But I think she feels an enormous responsibility for Lauren being behind bars, and I think Denny did this today, because Lauren was released this afternoon. Karen was repaying her debt by doing what she did today, no matter how little sense we might think that makes." "I'm assuming she did get Denny down in one piece," George said, knowing that John wouldn't have been there with her if Karen had needed him. "Yes, after a lot of straight talking. But that's not all. She had a pretty intensive row with Neil Grayling." "Ah," George said in understanding. "He was incredibly cross with her, because she went against every health and safety policy that exists in a place like that. I used to think I was the only one who held such blatant disregard for their superiors, but Karen really gave him as good as she got." "But maybe that's the point," George said regretfully. "Under normal circumstances, Karen simply wouldn't behave like that." "Quite. Anyway, the long and short of it is, that Grayling has suspended her, for a fortnight at the very least, for her own good, to give her some time to sort herself out." "That's hardly a surprise," George astonished him by saying. "John, Karen hasn't been her usual, highly professional self since Ross died. If an enforced absence makes her take some time out to simply rest, then that's all to the good." "She looked so betrayed," John told her. "That's because she thinks that work is all she's good for at the moment. She's coming apart at the seams, John, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do to help her." "Do you know what really frightened me about her being up there? She didn't give a damn, which way she came down. She wanted to make sure that Denny was safe, but she really didn't care whether or not she stayed in one piece." "Which is precisely why some time away from everything is absolutely vital," George told him. "There was something else she said, before taking such a stupid risk," John said carefully, wondering just what sort of reaction he was going to get. "Nikki was trying to persuade her not to do it, and Karen reminded Nikki that Helen had once done something similar. Nikki asked Karen if she knew just how scared she, Nikki, had been for Helen that day. Karen's response, was to say that she didn't have an unrequited lover, or a lover of any kind, waiting for her to come down safely." As he watched, all the colour drained from George's face. "Did, erm, did you ask her what she meant by that?" George asked a little shakily, not having realised that Karen knew so much. Yes, she knew that Karen had suspicions, but she'd had no idea that Karen knew anything concrete about her defection. "I asked her afterwards, and she said that she couldn't tell me. She said that a couple of lights had been switched on today, but that as she wasn't certain, it wouldn't be fair on anyone for her to tell me. I was referred unerringly to you." "John, this is somewhat difficult," George said, getting up from the sofa and beginning to pace. "I can see that," John said dryly. "I can't tell you about this, not yet," She said evasively, refusing to meet his eyes. "Why?" He wanted to know, the look of sheer guilt on her face thoroughly confusing him. "Because this doesn't just involve me," George told him. "Give me a couple of days, till the weekend at the most, and then I will tell you, but not before." Seeing that he wasn't going to get any more out of her, he agreed. But when he left, a good while later, his thoughts were still centring on the guilty expression that she didn't quite seem able to eradicate from her face.
Karen spent the rest of the afternoon tidying her flat, something she didn't seem to have done in far too long. But at around six, she received a call from Helen. "Nikki told me what happened," Helen said succinctly. "I've got one more appointment, but after that, I wondered if you felt like some company." "Yeah, that'd be good," Karen said, surprising herself by agreeing to it. "Shall I bring a takeaway?" Helen asked. "Probably a good idea," Karen replied, quickly glancing at the slightly decrepit contents of her fridge. When Helen arrived at about half past seven, bearing a bag from the Chinese and a bottle of wine, Karen found that it really was nice to see her. Helen's company was usually undemanding, as Helen always knew when to try and persuade her to talk, and simply when to back off.
"So, does it still feel as though you're in the middle of nowhere up there?" Helen asked, when they were sitting at the table, digging into the food Helen had brought. "Up on the roof you mean?" Karen asked, winding some noodles around her fork. "Oh, yeah, and it's far too easy to see why they go up there." "I think Zandra went up there, because it was the only place she could feel in control of her own and her baby's destiny," Helen said thoughtfully. "Everyone else was trying to take the baby away from her, so she went up there to regain the reins so to speak." "Denny said she felt free up there, as if it was the only way she could escape the bars. I learnt an awful lot about her mother up on that roof, most of it I wish I didn't know." "That was before your time, wasn't it, when all that blew up," Helen said, stabbing a deliciously plump king prawn. "The first we knew that Jessie Devlin was Denny's mother, was when Denny tried to attack her with one of those plastic knives." "It's a terrible thing to say, but after hearing what I heard this afternoon, I can hardly blame Denny for doing something like that." "What did Grayling say to you, when you brought her down?" "Didn't Nikki tell you?" Karen asked in surprise. "She told me that he'd suspended you, but she didn't say much else." "He was furious. He said that I clearly didn't give a damn about my own safety, and that he couldn't have me around making life threatening decisions, and that he was giving me some time away, so that I could come back the Karen Betts he was used to seeing." "And was he right?" Helen asked quietly, fixing Karen with her hypnotic gaze. "Possibly," Karen admitted defeatedly. "It wasn't that I didn't care about my own safety, I just didn't think about it. The only consideration I had, was that of getting Denny down in one piece. I owed it to Yvonne to do that." "Why do you owe Yvonne, something so enormous?" Helen asked, though with today being what it was, she found some of the pieces beginning to slip into place. Chewing a mouthful of pork in black bean sauce, Karen wondered how to answer this, and finally decided on the truth. "I don't especially want Nikki to know about this," She said eventually. "Because I don't think she would entirely understand it." "We don't tell each other everything," Helen said with a soft smile. Putting her fork down and reaching for her glass of wine, Karen took a swig and then told her. "The day after Fenner's body was found, I was given a pretty ruthless going over by George and Jo, with John there acting as witness. George thought I had killed Fenner, John knew I hadn't, and Jo wasn't sure. If the situation hadn't been so dire, that verbal scrap with George would have been incredibly erotic. They all three of them knew I knew far too much about Fenner's death, even if I hadn't actually been part of it. When John eventually called them off, and Jo escorted me back to my car, I gave her Lauren's name. I made her swear that Yvonne would never know it was me, because at the time, I didn't know how she would react. That's why Jo defended Lauren, because if a total stranger became involved with the case, he or she might have done way too much digging, to find out just how the police had come into the knowledge they did. So, Lauren has spent the last twenty months behind bars, because of me, which is why I had to do what I did today."
Helen had sat in silence as Karen had told her story, slowly chewing on the odd mouthful of food, yet barely recognising its taste. "You're right in one respect," She said when Karen had finished. "Nikki wouldn't understand it, not in a million years. But having almost done a similar thing to Nikki, I entirely get why you did it." "Do you?" Karen asked, utterly gob smacked. "Sure," Helen told her, taking a sip from her own glass. "The night Nikki got out, and ended up on my doorstep, I thought about phoning the police, afterwards, while she was getting dressed. I even went as far as dialling 999, but when the operator answered, I hung up. If I hadn't slept with Nikki, if I hadn't had the most fantastic night of my life, it would have been much easier to do it. But because I'd exchanged so many feelings, so many promises with her, I couldn't go through with it. But it was different for you. No matter why Lauren says she killed Fenner, no matter how much you think you played a part in her doing that, when it came down to it, you didn't have any choice. Lauren chose to do what she did, Lauren. Not you, not Yvonne, not anyone but her. If you hadn't given Jo Lauren's name, you'd very likely have been investigated along with Yvonne, possibly putting your job at risk, and in the worst case scenario, landing you a stretch in Larkhall, for perverting the course of justice. Karen, you protected your freedom and your livelihood, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that." "But at what cost?" Karen asked her. "Any cost Lauren might have found herself paying because of your actions, are because of her own actions. I understand why you feel as you do, but I wish you didn't. You carry far too much guilt around with you, Karen, not just about Lauren, but about Shell Dockley, Shaz Wiley, even me, and you need to let go of every single bit of it." "You left out Ross," Karen said quietly. "Because you're not the only one who feels incredibly guilty about that," Helen replied sadly. "Helen, you tried to help him," Karen insisted. "You of all people shouldn't feel any guilt about my son." "The night it happened," Helen told her, neither accepting nor denying Karen's assertion. "I asked the Judge if he felt any guilt, because it seemed to me that this time, the law didn't know best. He said that yes, he did feel guilty, because he knew precisely what you were going through." "He does," Karen told her, knowing it wouldn't go any further. "His mother killed herself when he was ten." Helen's fork clattered to the plate. "Shit," She said with feeling. Then, at Karen's raised eyebrow, she added, "I'm just remembering some of the things I said to him that night, not one of the most tactful moments I've ever had." "You couldn't have known," Karen tried to reassure her. "John, is one of the most complicated men I've ever known, because no matter how many layers you think you've peeled away, there are always many more in reserve. He finds it extremely hard to really express how he feels, which is why he usually tries to fall back on actions rather than words."
A little while later when they were clearing up, Helen asked, "What are you going to do for the next couple of weeks?" "God knows," Karen said ruefully. "I thought I might go on holiday for some of it though." "You should," Helen replied, putting the last plate in the drainer. "I went abroad for three weeks, after Sean made a complete fool of me, by setting fire to his wedding suit in the exercise yard." "Talk about a public disgrace," Karen said in sympathy. "The point is, that the only people to really give a damn about it by the time I got back, were Fenner and Stubberfield. Everyone else had forgotten. You need the time to sleep by the look of you." Karen opened her mouth to tell Helen of the dreams she'd been having, but something, some instinct of preservation, made her stay silent.
After John had left, George waited until Jo could reasonably be expected to be home from work, and dialled her number. "Jo, we've got a problem," She said in utter certainty. "We need to tell him."