Part One Hundred and Ninety Four
John paced round and round in his flat, summoning up the strength to say the words 'I apologise.' At each turn, the mouth opened but the words failed to materialize. He felt as uncomfortable as ever he had in his life, back to when he first went away to Oxford and the trace of the rounded Birmingham accent of his youth ran up against the languid public school accent of his peers. The one compromise he had ever made in his life was to spend hours in the quiet of the evening mimicking these accents and assuming their unhurried mannerisms. The class that he had aspired to join did not run round in circles like headless chickens but maintained that unassuming unruffled sense of assurance of a class that was born to command. Of course, from that early surrender to his environment, he had carved out his own personal space as a maverick, yet within the exclusive club of the brethren. He had never felt the need after that to apologise for anything after that, and his pride held him to that sense of resolution in his career.
Yet here his life came round in a full circle and this time, it wasn't the unspoken assumptions of his fellow students but the determined voice and clear sharp eyes of that very remarkable woman, Helen Wade who had manoeuvred him into this situation. After all, wasn't it perhaps better to concede to a well-argued line of reasoning in an arena where the power of his position held no sway? It was surely more preferable than the
mere desire for social camouflage without which he could not have risen to his present position? The one was moral and the other functional at best.
"Go on, judge," John could hear that Scottish brogue and that faint challenging smile.
"All right, Helen, I mean, Karen. I'm truly sorry for barging in and taking my fears for Jo out on you. You didn't deserve it. I've had time to think about it and I understand why you acted as you did. It was definitely for the best. I was wrong and you were right"
"Excellent, judge." He could hear Helen's slightly amused but genuinely warm-hearted praise. He needed all the praise that he could get and ,at one time received it when he had been a little boy. Was it from his mother that he had received it? Some ancient suggestion of a memory told him that it must have been so.
Two more circles round his flat as the resolution percolated through the surface layer of an intellectual proposition. Finally it sank deeper into that determined will to act, no matter how uncomfortable it might make him feel. As he sank into a cosy armchair and reached for a glass of spirits, he realised that his legs felt tired. It had been a blazing hot day today and the stress of finally arriving at this resolution had taken it out of him.
It was Friday June 30th 2006 and the full heat of summer glared down onto the street as John turned his car away from his chambers and in the direction of Larkhall Prison. At one time, he would have had to check his copy of the London A - Z map for directions but, over the past few years, his memory took him through the familiar back streets to the castle-like walls of the building. Grey grim as they looked in the depths of winter, even they were bleached and coloured by the brilliant blue sun into being halfway inviting, at least if you ignored the reality that lay behind them.
It was only when John had gone to sign in with Ken that he realised that he had assumed that Karen would be there to receive him. She might easily be working at home or at some conference as far as he was aware.
"I've come to see Karen Betts. At least I assume she is available today." John ventured in a diffident fashion.
Ken raised his eyebrows at the debonair, smartly dressed man with that air of command common to all those in high authority. The judge had always been different from the rest of them in the way that he didn't treat him as part of the furniture and in that sense of humanity. This was the first time he had ever appeared to him as shy and he couldn't understand it. He had no reason to be from what he had heard of the judge, both famous and merciful.
"You're in luck," Ken smiled broadly back at him as he put the phone down. "Nikki will come and show you the way, not that you need it, but rules is rules"
That commonplace proverb set the seal. He was very powerful in his own orbit and made the rules, the complexities of case law but gladly surrendered himself to others' demands, whether personal or institutional. There were occasions when he needed to tilt his lance at oppressive over mighty institutional power like some latter day Don Quixote but not today.
Nikki's face brightened as John came into view.
"It's really nice to see you, judge. Helen and I were thinking of you when I had a little party to celebrate my first year in office a few weeks ago"
"I would have liked to come, Nikki, but matters in my life were somewhat unstable nearer home. Things are getting clearer now," he added hastily.
Nikki's smile was as warm as if it had been exposed to a lifetime of English summers. It exposed her feelings unashamedly for all to see and bestowed her blessings on him. No wonder Helen saw so much in her to love her, he thought in a detached observational way that was not possessive. If he chose to be open, he would receive the blessings of her essential goodness.
"I'm really glad to hear it, judge. I'll take you up to see Karen." Nikki started to say in her best formal tones until she took a closer glance at John's rather edgy manner and her basic instinct to help the distressed bade her enquire in solicitous tones.
"If you don't mind me saying, you've got the manner of going to the doctor to take some unpleasant medicine."
"Something like that." John started to say, dryly. It struck him in that instance that this was his suave, well-armoured brush off and that Nikki deserved better than this.
"Do you get to hear of everything that is going on?" he added.
Nikki took one look at John's genuine bemusement and opted for directness.
"Nearly everything. You should know the Old Girls Network by now, judge. You aren't as inscrutable as you like to think you are."
John smiled wryly at her laughing eyes. He decided that there were some things in life that he might never know but so long as there was a benign force that somehow looked after him as much as it would scold him, he should simply let things be. It started to cross his mind that this powerful sisterhood had adopted him and that its strength would nurture him. It dawned on him with some satisfaction that the likes of imperious men Sir Ian and Neil Houghton would strive to achieve their dreams of power all their lives and never even conceive that such a force might exist much less appreciate its full dimension. The experience of the last months, if not years, had instilled this knowledge in him through Helen's patient efforts and spreading outward from there. If he was one eyed, he was a king in the land of the blind apparatchiks.
"John, how nice it is to see you."
"I just thought it was time for me to clear the air a bit"
"Do you want a cup of tea"
"I'd love one. Driving through London traffic doesn't get any easier and becomes insufferable on such a hot day"
As John indulged in strained polite conversation, he was highly conscious that he was coming over as hideously inexpressive. This wasn't what he wanted to do. He surprised himself that the thought of changing the course of the conversation was speedily followed by action. He opted for the shortest, simplest approach with no verbal decorations.
"You may have guessed that I didn't come round here to make polite conversation"
"I gathered that," Karen said in a perfect imitation of John's dry tones.
"Look here, I don't want to beat about the bush but…….. I wanted to say that I'm truly sorry for barging in and taking my fears for Jo out on you that time she took an overdose. You didn't deserve it. I've had time to think about it and I understand why you acted as you did to save Jo's life. It was definitely for the best. I was wrong and you were right"
Karen blinked as John shot out the words with the speed of a projectile. John felt intensely uncomfortable as if he were an adolescent out on his first date and that he had spoken charming words that he had cribbed from a book or a friend. He felt as if he were an alien.
"I think I heard what you said but would you kindly repeat it……...It's really important to both of us that I understand what you have to say"
John blinked at Karen's first impersonal tones and nearly lost his nerve. When Karen softened her tones, it gave him the reassurance that he needed. He swallowed nervously and this time deployed some of his acquired verbal tricks of slow deliberate delivery of words and all the consciousness he had gained from his therapy sessions to get out the words without him sounding as if he were hurting. He felt the sentiments as he spoke the words.
"You know that I too will occasionally go against my professional training if it is morally right to do so. It's just that in your profession, the balance of justice is so weighted that you are compelled to do it in order to stay human."
Karen answered him deliberately as her large blue eyes stared straight into his soul. In another era, it would have made him feel uncomfortable and vulnerable but now it made him feel that she was there for him on a far more profound level than all the casual pick-ups in some anonymous hotel.
"Besides, John, you make it into an art form. I am a beginner by comparison"
Karen's smile and her husky tones might have aroused John's physical desire except that intense feelings of friendship and mutual understanding stood in the way. In her turn, Karen felt that she was being wordier than she wanted to be. She got up from her chair, crossed the space between them and gave him a big hug.
"What I meant to say is that I would probably have done exactly the same in your position, John," she murmured into his shoulder.
"You mean it, Karen"
John felt Karen nod her head rather than heard her words. That was answer enough.
"I realize that I didn't get it clear in my head exactly what you did for Jo. I've no moral or legal right to ask this of you, but might I see a copy of the report on what you did to Jo. You know how the presentation of solid facts eases my mind. It is something that you are not a million miles away from you in your profession"
Karen was touched by John's humility and her hearty warmed to accede to his wish.
"But of course, John. You might find it rather technical. The report is at home so why not come with me and I'll cook you dinner"
"I'd love that"
Karen was his friend and he was going with no prior expectations or hidden agendas. What would be, would be.
As they crossed the wing, they ran into the Julies who were armed with mops and buckets and they positively beamed at him as they waylaid him. Karen smiled tolerantly, knowing that over time, John had gained understanding of women in prison.
"Why, judge, ain't we glad to see you around here. You should come here more often"
"More often. We don't get any good looking fellas like you around here"
John laughed appreciatively at the compliments and their harmless flirtation and felt that he was a welcome part of this perpetual cabaret show.
"Hey judge," Denny's voice called out from the side of John's vision. It could only be Denny Blood with that huge grin on her face. "It's great to see you. You know that you're our favourite judge"
"Thanks for the compliment, Denny"
John could see by the frown on Denny's face that she was wrestling with herself whether to say something that was playing on her mind. John smiled to encourage her and at last she spoke.
"Excuse me for saying it, judge, but you better watch out if you keep visiting or you'll become institutionalised"
A general laugh echoed round the wing, John's laugh just that bit louder than Karen's. He could see that the delicious irony of Denny's immortal one liner would not go down well with his humourless enemies.
"I'll never forget the way you looked after me when I was in the witness box at Lauren's trial. You're a real gent, don't let anyone say any different or they'll answer to me."
John was touched by Denny's sentiments. He had conducted a lot of trials since Lauren Atkins' trial and the details had got a bit blurred. He must have done better than he knew for those details to be so razor sharp in her mind.
At that moment, Tina strolled into view while Natalie scowled away in the background.
"Have a cheese straw, judge. Special recipe what I got from an old mate of mine called Noreen"
John's natural courtesy bade him pick one. It did taste good with a mature cheese base in the light texture. He chatted away contentedly with the women who clustered around him. This was another women's support group who had also adopted him. It made him feel humble and tears pricked his eyes. It was only when he remembered that Karen waited patiently on him that he was forced to make his polite exit.
When they arrived at Karen's flat, John placed himself entirely in Karen's hands. He knew himself well enough to feel safe in doing so and, after all, Karen was an old friend. Occasional disagreements and outright rows would never permanently disturb this balance. Karen immediately clicked on her laptop, searched her folders for the one word document that didn't fit into her carefully arranged categories, clicked print and the two page document whirred its way onto the table.
"Take your time to look at this while I cook something for us. Now let me see, do you fancy macaroni cheese? I can cook it quickly enough." Karen enquired, taking charge of her surroundings. The choice jumped into her mind as it would provide John with excellent comfort food as well as being quick and easy.
"That sounds fine by me. Can I help?" John asked politely enough
"Well, since you've offered, you can grate 4 oz of cheese for me." Karen called out over her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen.
I can't blame anyone taking me at my word on an offer of help, John reflected ruefully as he followed her. He remembered how he had studiously offered to be guided by Jo's good sense and friendship while all along, he had been maneuvering her into following the course of action he had wanted her to do in carrying out work for the benefit of Francesca Rochester of all people. This was a little bit of comeuppance.
He felt highly conscious of intruding into Karen's cooking space and found himself a distant corner of the kitchen to work in. He grated the cheese into a bowl and placed it wordlessly next to Karen before discreetly retiring to the living room. She nodded to acknowledge his contribution, while she effortlessly sieved plain flour into another saucepan and vigorously whisked in butter and milk to make her standard white sauce mix. With a flourish, she poured dry pasta into a saucepan to boil and gradually worked the cheese into the white sauce along with a sprinkling of salt and pepper. In expertly draining the pasta, she turned it into a serving bowl with the cheese sauce and grilled it to crisp the surface on top. Triumphantly, she served it on her dining table with green salad and a bottle of chilled Frascati straight out of the fridge.
John had started to read Karen's report and her deployment of the foreign language of medical terminology took him aback. The times recorded explained to him of the medical complexities of various tests that must have been taken. It was all an alien language to him.
"……………Jo Mills initial GCS was ten, e3v1m6. There was an initial lack of verbal response due to emotional shock. She was seriously bradycardic, pulse 48 and there were some slight arrhythmias. A search revealed a bottle of 30 tablets of Temazepam, the prescription date dated the day before yesterday. An Intra-venous line was set up and 2 syringes of Apomorphine to induce vomiting were administered while the heart rate was carefully monitored……... GCS9, E2V1M6, pulse rate maintained at 48 …..After 2MG's of Atropine were administered intravenously the pulse rate increased to 78…..…….Jo Mills regained consciousness ………As Jo Mills skin felt cold and clammy, GCS reduced to 8, E2, V2 and M4, and pulse 130, 2 half litre bags of fluid were administered, fifteen minutes apart…….. Finally she regained full consciousness and her condition stabilized sufficiently …… a blood sample was taken for LFT's and Creatinine levels…"
He had never considered that Karen had that depth of medical knowledge. He gathered what he could understand from it and lay back with pleasure to receive Karen's practical care.
"It might sound a very stupid question as my knowledge of medical matters is very limited indeed but was there a point when you became seriously worried about coping with the situation"
"You might say that again, when Jo's pulse suddenly shot up like a rocket and I couldn't understand what the hell had gone on. Dr Waugh, God bless him reminded me that Jo was simply dehydrated from the alcohol she had taken and having vomited up the contents of her stomach." Karen exclaimed, pulling a face as she drank a generous measure of her glass of wine.
"A foolish question to have asked. I am sorry"
Karen smiled slightly and leaned over the table to gently stroke his face. She had had head to head arguments with this proud, highly intelligent man but she had never seen the man apologise so much in one day. It humanized him.
"Now you know what it is to be the layman, John"
"True, very true. It has been an eye opener." John conceded gracefully before returning to take another mouthful of Karen's excellent macaroni cheese.
"Jo went to see Ric Griffin recently on Ric's request and she had been extremely lucky. There is no long term damage but she has been strictly warned that she should under no circumstances drink alcohol ever again," Karen added in conversational tones.
"As drastic as that?" John enquired, raising his eyebrows. The realms of permanent liver damage had been a closed book to him. The assumption of free choice when to drink and when not to seemed pretty fundamental, even to someone who was relatively temperate in a profession noted for the periodic alcohol lubricated socialising of the brethren. "This reinforces the feelings that I have come to consider that there is a lot that I haven't known, both about myself and the world about me"
"So did these revelations take place of their own accord, John. I am impressed"
"I can't lay claim for all the credit, Karen. If you must know, I've been having professional therapy this last year. For once in my life, I have stuck to it no matter how hard the going has been"
Karen's mouth opened wide. She had thought that she knew pretty well what went on in the lives of her friends but John had kept this one very dark from her.
"So who is this remarkable person? I don't suppose I would know him, psychologists not being in my field of acquaintances"
"She is certainly remarkable and very persistent, I can assure you"
"You haven't answered my question, John. I did ask you if I know her." Karen teased him.
"Haven't I?" John responded vaguely. "It so happens that you do know her"
A light bulb switched itself on in Karen's mind. Very smart, John Deed. As I might have predicted, you pick a female psychologist and you choose the one therapist who you know that you will never get to sleep with when it gets awkward. You really were serious when you started your therapy.
"Let's cut to the chase, John. The only possible candidate is Helen, Helen Wade. Am I not right"
John sheepishly nodded. There was no point in verbal fencing. What point was there in playing games and what would it achieve?
"Well, you certainly picked yourself a tough one but someone who I know really cares about you. She was putting herself a bit on the line in knowing you previously and in having some common history"
"So it proved."
"So what did you get out of it?
John's mind flashed back over what seemed like years of conversations.
"I finally realised what damage my mother's death did to me, in being fearful of emotional commitment and how brilliantly I misused my grasp of the English language to blind myself with words. I got to see what should have been blindingly obvious, that the highly moral, upright virtuous man struggling for justice was anything but in my private life. My nice neat compartmentalisations were shown to be irrational and totally dysfunctional. It wasn't all down to me and I learned that there are other imperfect human beings out there with their own internal demons and I simply cannot shoulder their guilt but try to help them as best as I can"
Both Karen and John knew that he was referring to Jo's alcoholism and that her life was not as perfect as George believed her, the George Channing who had been tortured by her own lack of normal maternal feeling, the same George that Karen had loved and who was still her friend.
"………I have known that I must treasure the good people I have come across but I never knew that I had been adopted by the formidable women's support group, both inside and outside prison. I know that I am grateful even though they can become fierce critics. They don't miss anything"
Karen grinned at the earlier memories. To her mind, Nikki and Denny clasped hands together.
"I have done some good in this public world and some harm to women in my private life." Added John in a choked voice.
"You can't blame yourself for everything, John," Karen added in soothing tones, laying her hand on his shoulder. "Barbara Mills has walked free and you have given her life back which another judge would have deprived her of"
"That's true," John added reflectively." I had forgotten that"
A companionable silence descended on the flat as fitting two old friends who didn't have to fill the spaces with meaningless words for the sake of it.
"So what of your life, Karen." John enquired as he finished the last morsel off his plate and finished his glass of wine.
"I get by, John." Karen replied, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. It disturbed John a little as she had assumed a little too much of his own nonchalant manner for her good. Then maybe he was wrong about that. "I have enough to occupy me and I can't see myself exactly being tied down in a relationship"
John held his tongue. Who was he to judge her? After all, if it hadn't been for Karen and what they'd done together at that conference back in October, he would never have started therapy, and if he hadn't begun having therapy, where would he, where would any of them be today?
The End