Part Two Hundred And Eight
When Karen woke on the Monday morning, John was still sleeping soundly beside her. As it was still quite early, she got out of bed without waking him, wrapped herself in a thin dressing gown, and went out onto the balcony. The third of October was a little cold for being outside and wearing so little, but she didn't notice it. She lit a cigarette, gradually accounting for all the bruises she could feel this morning. Her spirit felt unbearably heavy today, even heavier than it had done recently. She should never have done that with John last night, because it had hurt him immeasurably to know that he was capable of doing something like that to her. The fact that she'd enabled him to cheat yet again on Jo and George barely registered with her, as it bore far less significance than what she'd put him through.
When John emerged into consciousness, he realised that it was the aroma of Karen's cigarette smoke that had woken him. The door to the balcony wasn't entirely shut, and he could hear the occasional passing car, down in the otherwise deserted street. Getting out of bed, he pulled on his clothes from the day before, and went to join her. "You're up early," He said quietly, bringing her slightly startled gaze on him. "I didn't mean to wake you," She said, taking a last drag from her cigarette and ditching the glowing end over the side of the balcony. They were silent for a while, neither quite knowing what to say. "John, I..." She said eventually, but he lifted a hand to stop her. "Don't try and apologise for something, that was both our responsibility," He said gently, brushing a tousled strand of hair back from her face. "I don't think any less of you, so don't think any less of yourself." She stared at him, feeling a rush of combined affection and regret that made her speechless. Leaving her with her thoughts, John went back to his own room to take a shower, knowing deep inside himself that this hadn't been dealt with, not by a long way.
They got through the last morning of the conference, with both John and Karen studiously avoiding each other, though this wasn't remotely difficult. After eating a lunch that Karen really didn't feel in the mood for, they began on the long drive back to London, both of them managing to maintain a thoughtful silence for the first part of the journey. Karen had put on Tori Amos this time, the mournful, haunting melodies fitting her mood entirely. John badly wanted to reach out to her in some way, to try to assuage the guilt he could feel coming off her in waves. But this would have meant breeching her personal space, either by actions or by words, neither of which he had any desire to do. Every single one of her barriers was up, as firmly in place as the walls and battlements that surrounded a castle, and it would have taken an army to break through them, not one solitary general without a hope in hell of succeeding. But as they were driving through Manchester city centre, Karen spied a chemist, and remembered something she ought to take care of before it escaped her memory. Pulling into the curb, she told John she would only be a minute, quickly returning and dropping a small packet on the dashboard. As she moved back into the stream of traffic, John picked up the packet, and read the label, which told him it contained the morning after pill. Catching sight of some of the thoughts that were spinning behind his eyes, Karen took the packet from him and put it in the glove compartment, removing it from their immediate vicinity. John felt a myriad of conflicting feelings, from an urge to persuade her not to take it, to an overwhelming relief that she would. "Don't look like that," She told him gently. "It won't be the first time I've taken it." "And was the last time also because of me?" He felt it necessary to ask, receiving a slight nod from her in return. "John, I thought about that last night just as much as you did, in other words, not in the slightest." "I guess that doesn't make me all bad then," He said, trying to lighten the mood a little, and finally getting a small smile of agreement from her.
In the other car, Helen and Nikki were also fairly quiet. "She slept with him, didn't she," Helen said after a while, as she watched Nikki navigate her way through the traffic. "Yeah, I think so," Nikki agreed. "Why does she always do this?" Helen said in resigned disgust. "Karen always gets involved with men who give her nothing but complications." "From the looks of it," Nikki replied as they approached the motorway, "They both regret whatever happened, so as long as they can stay friends, it shouldn't be too much of a problem." "Let's hope so," Helen said thoughtfully, though privately thinking that there was more to it than that.
Karen and John had lapsed into an almost contented silence, the music the only thing to break the quiet. He could see that she was submerged in her thoughts, her eyes remaining rigidly on the road ahead of her, almost as if she was staring into space. When her mobile rang at about half past three, she came out of her reverie long enough to answer it, leaving it on hands free because she was driving. "Karen Betts," She said tonelessly, with barely any emotion in her voice. "Karen, it's Yvonne," Came the voice they both knew so well. "Have you got me on hands free?" "Yvonne, I'm driving with a high court judge in the car, so no, I'm not about to break the law if at all possible," Karen replied, a lot more sharply than she'd really intended, Yvonne's question seeming pretty stupid. "Don't talk to me like I'm still one of your bloody inmates," Yvonne responded hotly, in no mood for one of Karen's displays of distain. "Sorry," Karen said, feeling completely mollified. "What's happened?" "I don't really think you should be behind the wheel for this," Yvonne said carefully. "And that's precisely what Helen said to me, the night Ross died," Karen said bleakly. "So please, just get on with it." "Did you know that Henry was ill?" Yvonne asked, feeling a mental kick at what Karen had said. "Yes, I did," Karen told her, getting a horribly familiar feeling that she knew what was coming. "He died, yesterday." There was a long, awful silence in the car, as both John and Karen took in the news. John watched as Karen's hands reflexively gripped the wheel even tighter, and as her face contorted itself into a whole host of expressions, eventually settling on sadness. "How's Barbara?" Karen finally asked, her voice a little unsteady with the effort it was taking her to stay in control. "Not good," Yvonne replied, hearing just how difficult Karen was finding this. "The thing is, that's not the only problem. The bastards in uniform, in their oh so infinite wisdom, think she did what she did with her previous husband." "Oh, for god's sake!" Karen said in rising anger. "Do they have even so much as a shred of evidence?" "Evidence or not," Yvonne said bitterly. "They arrested her this afternoon. She's due up in court tomorrow morning, and because of her previous conviction, will probably be exiled to Larkhall, until they get their heads out of their arses long enough to realise she's innocent." "This really shouldn't be happening," Karen said disgustedly. "Tell me about it," Yvonne said, and they could hear her lighting a cigarette. "But you know the law, they'd sooner bang someone up before their feet hit the ground, rather than admit they might just be wrong. Far better to let the CPS make a complete tit of itself." Karen couldn't prevent her lips from twitching into the faintest of smiles at Yvonne's blunt assessment of the situation, thinking that it wouldn't do John any harm whatsoever to hear it. "Do you think she did it?" Karen asked after a moment's silence. "I doubt it," Yvonne said glibly. "But you never know, do you." "That's it," John's voice broke in on their conversation. "Drop this pointless speculation right now, the pair of you." "Why?" Yvonne asked him without taking any heed of his tone. "The topic under discussion just a little bit too unsavory for you, is it?" "Yvonne," Karen warned, not wanting them to get into an argument, and use her as an umpire. "Because if this goes as far as a trial," John tried to explain, as if they both should have realised this. "I may have to be on the bench." There was another short pause, where they all tried to calm down. "Have you told Helen and Nikki?" Karen asked, wanting to prevent Yvonne from making matters worse. "Yeah, and I think you're going to have a hard time trying to persuade Nikki to stay on the screws' side of the wire."
Not long after she'd finished talking to Yvonne, Karen pulled off the motorway into the car park of a conveniently placed service station. "Sorry," She said by way of explanation. "But I need a cigarette." "Are you all right?" He asked as she lit up, Yvonne's news having somehow put them back onto their former friendly footing. "I'm singing with nervous tension," She admitted ruefully. "And I need to talk to Nikki, because if Barbara gets transferred to Larkhall, we need to sort out what we're going to do. As for whether she did or didn't do what they've accused her of, that's not something I can think about at the moment." "If it wouldn't be unduly inquisitive," John asked carefully. "What was Barbara convicted of last time?" "I forget that you, and Jo and George, don't automatically know everything there is to know about most of us. Barbara did three years for manslaughter, because she helped her terminally ill husband to die. On the day we performed 'The Creation', she told me that Henry had lung cancer. So, you can almost see the police's point." "Do you really think she would do that again?" He asked, seeing the problem clearly enough. "I don't know her well enough to say yes or no," Karen said matter-of-factly. "But for her sake, I hope not." When she'd finished her cigarette, she asked, "Can you drive, while I talk to Nikki?" "Sure," He replied, feeling the heady relief at finding at least one thing he could do to help her.
Once back on the motorway, Karen called Nikki in the car somewhere on the road ahead of her, still leaving it on hands free. "Helen Stewart," Came the authoritative Scottish burgh. "Are you still saying that instead of Wade?" Karen asked in lieu of a greeting. "Yeah," Came Nikki's voice. "It's amazing how often she forgets." "Force of habit," Helen said by way of apology, though knowing that Nikki wasn't in the least offended. "Can you talk, Nikki, or are you driving?" Karen asked, getting back to the issue in hand. "No, I'm all yours," Nikki replied. "I take it you've heard about Barbara." "Nikki, I know you know her better than I do, and I also know that you'll want to do everything you can for her, but we must try to stay vaguely professional about this." "Fine," Nikki said a little belligerently. "But I am not going to let her go to any other prison, where I can't keep an eye on her. I owe Barbara better than that. It's not everyone who could put up with me banging on about me and Helen night after night." "Jesus," Karen said with a wry smile. "She must have written an entire book about it. Fenner didn't call her Barbara Cartland for nothing." "She did," Helen put in with a smile. "That's partly what got Di and Fenner on our case before I left." "The point is," Nikki put in. "She didn't cope very well with prison last time, so if it's going to happen again, she needs looking after." "Well, having Sylvia mistake you for Tessa Spall, isn't exactly a good start for anyone," Karen said ruefully. "Can you pull any strings," Nikki asked carefully. "To at least make sure she ends up at Larkhall? Because I'm assuming that with her record, they'll definitely put her on remand." "It's not a certainty," John added into the conversation. "Though it is the most likely outcome." "I do know Holloway's Governor," Karen said thoughtfully. "So yes, if necessary, I probably could, but we have to be careful, Nikki. Pulling the odd string here or there is fine, but it needs to be accomplished with at least a modicum of finesse." "I do hope," John said firmly. "That I'm not about to witness, another Sir Ian Rochester in the making. Doing things without being seen to do them, is precisely his style." "I'll forget I heard that," Karen told him seriously, not appreciating his words one bit. "That's hardly fair, Judge," Helen told him without hesitation. "Karen's just trying to do her job, and help to take care of a friend, two things that aren't usually simultaneously possible. I bet even you've pulled the odd string in your time, and not always for someone else's benefit." "Perhaps," John admitted quietly, thinking of the time he'd been caught on camera, screwing the life out of Francesca, on his desk in chambers for all the security staff to see. "Hey, do you mind not speeding while you're driving my car," Karen suddenly said, catching a glimpse of the speedometer, and vowing to make him pay the fine if she was caught. "There aren't any cameras along this stretch," He said, trying to mollify her, and looking far too innocent about it. "Tut, tut," Helen said disapprovingly. "And I thought Judges were supposed to stick to the rules." "George would no doubt tell you, that I was declared irredeemable years ago," John replied dryly.
"The best thing we can do," Karen said, trying to get the conversation back onto slightly safer ground. "Is to wait and see what happens tomorrow. If Barbara is remanded in custody, then I'll try to make sure she ends up at Larkhall. I don't want her going anywhere else any more than you do, Nikki. However, if she does end up with us, and if she does end up on G wing, you must, must, must, remain professional. There will be a pretty major conflict of interest, but we dealt with it with Lauren, so we can do it again. You've managed to keep the required distance so far, so I fully expect that you can keep on doing it. Sylvia and Di etc might be a different matter." "Jesus, Sylvia's going to love this," Nikki said bitterly. "Yeah, well, just keep reminding her of her year's probation, and that ought to keep her in line," Karen said firmly, entirely ready to rap Sylvia over the knuckles if she gave Barbara any more hell than usual.
When at last they drew up outside the Judge's digs, they both sat there in silence, both knowing that there was still an awful lot that had been left unsaid, yet neither knowing how to rectify this. Undoing his seat belt, John turned his body towards her. "I don't want what happened last night to come between us," He said, taking her hands in his. "Neither do I," She said regretfully. "But I'm not entirely sure how it can't." "Are you cross with me?" He asked, though thinking he would have known about it if she really was. "With myself, John, not you," She said quietly. "I shouldn't have asked you to do that, and I shouldn't have accepted your assurances that you knew what you were doing. I loathe myself for making you feel the way you did, but I don't know how to put it right. All I can do is to tell you how sorry I am, something that I don't seem to be able to find the right words to do." He didn't want her to be sorry, but he could see in her eyes just how sorry she was, the pain of what she thought she'd done to him cutting her soul. Tentatively putting his arms out, he drew her unresisting body against him, feeling the tension in every muscle as she strove to maintain control. "Just promise me one thing," He said into her hair as she returned his embrace. "Don't stay away from me, not because of this. I do not want to lose you, just because of something we will both in time get over. What we did last night took the two of us, which means that the blame, if there really needs to be any, is equally shared." "What would I do without you?" She said, brief tears of mental and emotional exhaustion rising to her eyes. "Probably have a very quiet and a very boring life," He said with a smile, dropping a quick kiss on her cheek. But as he got out of the car, retrieved his belongings and walked towards the door of the digs, Karen watched him through her tears, wondering just how much guilt one person could hold. She'd thought her guilt had somewhat diminished with Lauren's release, but here was another type just waiting to take its place. As she walked round to the driver's seat, and put the car in gear and slowly drove away, she couldn't help but wonder whose guilt or innocence would be called into question next. Would it be Barbara's, or would it be hers.