Part Two Hundred And Three
Ten days later, on the last day of September, Karen was due to drive up to the annual conference that the Howard League of Penal Reform was holding in Manchester. Helen and Nikki were driving up in one car, and she and John would be going up in another. They had planned to drive up in John's car, but he had phoned Karen that morning, and asked if they could take hers instead. "I'd forgotten mine was due for its MOT today," He told her. "Fine," She replied. "As long as you let me do the driving. I hate anyone else being behind the wheel of my car, and there's to be absolutely no criticism of my driving." "I will attempt not to do one of the things that drives George insane," He promised, though she didn't entirely believe him. This was John after all, and if he couldn't have direct control of a process such as driving, he would no doubt exert every ounce of stealth to obtain it in some other way.
Accordingly, Karen picked him up outside the judges' digs at around five o'clock, meaning that they would be driving to Manchester through the interminable rush hour traffic. "I suppose I must put up with your taste in music for the entire journey," He said, after putting his belongings in the boot and sinking into the passenger seat. "Of course," She told him with a smile. "Though I might allow you some Vivaldi if I get bored." "I've got to write my speech for tomorrow," John said, digging a pad and a pen out of his briefcase that he'd put on the backseat so that he could reach it. "I thought you'd just adlib," Karen said, pulling into the stream of traffic, and heading out of the city centre. "That would be dreadfully discourteous," He said with a completely straight face. "Besides, I doubt you'll be telling me that you are anywhere near as unprepared." "No, but then I'm not used to the limelight like you are." "It's just like giving a lecture to a group of students," He said contemplatively. "It doesn't matter how important some of them might think they are, because they're all just human beings, and they all have just as many quirks and hang ups as the rest of us." "And I used to think it was prison that was the great social leveler," Karen said with a laugh. "Yet now I find out that it's really all down to just one Judge."
As Karen negotiated her way onto the motorway, she set her Carolyn Johnson CD in motion, and watched as John began making some notes on his forthcoming speech. Having only ever seen John speak to a tightly packed courtroom, Karen was looking forward to seeing what he would come up with during his slot on the following day. John might have put up a mild protest at having to listen to Karen's music, but he was forced to admit that this particular singer didn't actually bother him too much. Her voice was unintrusive, even if the words were somewhat pathetically trivial. When they came to one particular song, he asked, "Did you ever lend this to George? It sounds vaguely familiar." "It was the first CD I ever lent her," Karen said fondly. "So yes, you probably have heard it from time to time. How is she? I haven't seen or heard from her since we got back from Spain." "Oh, she's all right," John said carefully, thinking that George really ought to have maintained better contact with Karen than this. "She was a little wound up for a while, but nothing out of the ordinary." "John, knowing George as well as I do," Karen said with a fond smile. "I suspect that's something of an understatement." "Perhaps," He admitted eventually. "She's just finding it a bit difficult to adjust, that's all. Don't misunderstand me, she couldn't be happier with things the way they are now, but I think she's finding it harder to get over you than she thought she would." "I'm not sure whether to be pleased or worried about her," Karen said dryly, and secretly feeling a little bit of both. "She'll sort herself out eventually," John told her, not in the least concerned by George's phase of uncertainty.
The car seemed to cruise under Karen's firm but gentle hands, the wheel requiring just as much sensitivity as she might bestow on a lover. She usually kept just below the speed limit, the needle hovering just under seventy, though it felt to John as if they were barely moving at all. One hand rested lightly on the wheel, and the other on the gear stick, with her long, very attractive legs stretched forward to the pedals. John tried to work on his speech, and he did manage to note down a few ideas for things he must mention without fail. But the graceful movement of the car, combined with the mental exhaustion at the end of a hard week's work, eventually lulled him to sleep. He was vaguely aware of the music changing at the edge of his conscience, and found himself puzzling over how Karen could change CD's whilst driving. He was only just aware of her gently removing the notepad and pen from his hand, which rested atop them on his knee, before his brain gave into the lure of sleep. Karen had become aware that his eyes were gradually closing, and had removed the writing implements from his hand before he could drop them, placing them on the dashboard. She had changed the CD, having learnt to do this with one hand some time ago. John looked so innocent as he slept, his face losing all the carefully controlled restraint of his profession, and assuming the softer countenance of the man who simply wanted to be loved. It made her smile that he could be so relaxed in her presence, to hand over the responsibility for his continuing existence so freely. His legs were stretched out in front of him, and his head leant back on the headrest, showing that just for once, he didn't have a care in the world. It was a Faith Hill CD that Karen had put on and, after casting a glance at John to make sure he was still asleep, she began to sing. She wasn't stupid enough to think she was very good, and she knew she could entirely blame the cigarettes for this, but as her deep, slightly husky voice gathered confidence, she found it easier and easier to continue. She often found herself dropping an octave to keep the melody in tune with her contralto voice, sincerely hoping that John would stay asleep until she gave up this pointless pastime.
John had slept soundly for almost an hour, but then he gradually began to emerge, slowly becoming aware of her voice. He'd never heard Karen sing before, and it softened his heart to hear her. When she came to the end of a song, he broke the silence. "I didn't know you could sing," He said, finally opening his eyes. "And I thought you, were asleep," She said sternly, wishing he hadn't heard her. "Mmm, I was," He said, lifting a hand to cover a yawn. They drove in silence for a while, listening to the music, and both submerged in their thoughts. "Jo told me she came to see you," John said eventually, slightly surprising Karen at the turn of the conversation. "Yes, she did. I don't want either Jo or George, to feel in any way guilty for this, but they both seem determined to do so." "They both care about you," He said by way of explanation. "I know, but these things happen." Then, far more earnestly, she added, "I don't want to lose either of them as a friend, John." "You won't," He tried to reassure her. "They both just need some time, to get used to the situation." "And what about you?" "Erm..." He stopped, not entirely sure how to express what he was feeling. "I suppose I'm a little afraid of becoming surplus to requirements." "In bed, or just generally?" She asked, not remotely thrown by the direction their conversation was taking. "There as much as anywhere else," He was forced to admit, relieved that her eyes were firmly fixed on the road instead of on him. "John," Karen said with a kind smile. "For some, like me and George, sleeping with a woman, could never completely replace the feeling of sleeping with a man, no matter how good the woman in question might be, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't occasionally get given equal importance. For others, like Yvonne and possibly Jo, altering their preferences could only really happen with one woman. I would be incredibly happy for Yvonne if she could find herself another woman, but I'm pretty sure it will never happen. I think Jo might be the same, in that her attraction for women will only go as far as George. You know how it is, when you first start sleeping with someone new, you can't seem to get enough of it, but that won't stop either of them from needing their time with you."
When they eventually arrived at the hotel where the conference was being held, it was just after nine o'clock. Helen and Nikki were already there, and had left a message for Karen at the desk, to let them know they would meet them in the bar. Karen's room was on the eighth floor, John's on the tenth, and when they'd dropped their bags off in their rooms, they went in search of Helen and Nikki. "Hey, you're looking better," Helen said as they arrived at their table, getting up to give Karen a hug, not having seen her since the day she'd gone up on the roof. "I'm missing Yvonne's villa already," Karen told her, glancing at the miserable rainy evening outside the windows of the bar. "Seen anyone else we know?" "Grayling's here somewhere," Nikki said as they sat down, and Helen went to get them some drinks. "And we've seen Clare in passing." "Clare who played the flute in The Creation?'" He asked, the smile of anticipation touching his lips. "The very same," Nikki said knowingly, as Helen put a glass of red wine down in front of John, and a large scotch in front of Karen. "So much for your pledge of not wanting to touch scotch for a fortnight," John said, clearly amused. "Howard League conferences clearly providing the one exception," She replied without missing a beat. "Have you told them about Clare being here too?" Helen asked, trying to catch up with the conversation. "Yeah," Nikki said, seeing that John's interest was immediately renewed. "Is she attached?" He asked, causing Nikki to break into a quiet little laugh. "Not as far as I know," Helen told him, taking sincere amusement at his expression of excitement. "Jesus," Karen said in mild disgust. "You look like a Labrador that's been let off the leash for the weekend." "Well, I have," He said without a flicker. "You're outrageous," Karen told him, and Nikki couldn't quite escape the feeling that she was observing an old married couple. "I don't suppose I can smoke in here?" Karen said, clearly not expecting such a luxury. "No, the whole place is non-smoking, apart from the balconies and the car park," Nikki said with a grimace. "Bloody clean air brigade," Karen said reproachfully, purposefully trying to wind up John, whilst giving Helen and Nikki a sly wink. "Well, some of us might appreciate the lack of carcinogens," John replied, playing along with her for the moment. "And I thought you liked taking risks," Helen said, flashing a smirk across the table at him. "Now, whatever gave you that impression?" John wanted to know, clearly enjoying the company of three delightfully attractive and intelligent women. "Well now," Nikki said grinning wickedly at him. "The things George has told us about you, really shouldn't be mentioned in polite society." After a moment's silence, both Helen and Karen burst into laughter. "You should see the look on your face," Karen said, wishing Jo and George could have seen it too. "I knew that introducing George to the idea of having female friends, was a particularly stupid thing to do," He said in resigned acceptance.
Much later that night, when Helen and Nikki were lying in bed, and on the verge of going to sleep, Helen said, "Did they look like an old married couple to you?" "Yeah," Nikki replied, turning over to face her. "Why?" "Because I don't think he'd be any good for her," Helen surprised Nikki by saying. "I haven't thought that closely about it," Nikki was forced to admit. "But yeah, it's not as if Karen would do herself much good, falling for someone who's shacked up with two other women, one being as good as her ex." "She's bored, you can see it a mile off." "Bored's a bit too simplistic," Nikki clarified. "More like miserable, and lonely, and in need of a bit of temporary, uncomplicated comfort." "What would you think, if I were to suggest that we give her some?" Helen asked into the darkness, feeling her cheeks flame with embarrassment. "Actually, no, please just forget I said that." But Nikki was smiling. "You've been working up to that all evening, haven't you," Nikki said, giving Helen a gentle kiss. "Is that completely outrageous?" Helen asked, hoping Nikki wasn't about to tell her she was weird for suggesting such a thing. "Oh yeah," Nikki replied huskily. "It's incredibly outrageous, quite sexy too though." After a few moments' silence, punctuated by some fairly languorous kissing, Helen tentatively asked, "What do you reckon though?" "Erm, interesting," Nikki said thoughtfully. "If I didn't work with her, then yeah, I'd say definitely, as a one off, because I think you and me could probably teach her a thing or two. But I do work with her, which is why she might say no, and which is why it might not be such a good idea. Let me sleep on it, and who knows."