Chapter Three-

"Mr Channing. Thank you for your phone call. I look forward to serving this prison well with the knowledge that I've gained from Blackmoor," said Joan formally, shaking Derek's hand.

"Congratulations on receiving the position. I can't wait to see this prison back up and running the way Meg Jackson used to," replied Derek.

"Guaranteed. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to see where this prison is at, see where I can start," replied Joan smoothly.

"Not a problem. Keep me posted," said Derek. He headed out, leaving Joan to look around her new office. She'd soon change the stark interior, decorate it more in her own tastes, but for now, it would suffice. Vera knocked on the door.

"May I come in Governor?" She asked.

"Of course Vera. You're always welcome in my office. How have you been? Haven't seen you for a few years since last time I visited," said Joan, taking a seat.

"I've been well. Mother isn't as fit as she used to be, and requires more attention, but we'll get there," replied Vera.

"That's good to hear. Can you update me on what's been happening here?" Asked Joan pulling a sheaf of papers toward herself.

"Well, last month Jacs Holt was murdered by a fellow inmate, we've had a double intake just yesterday, and there's been a little unrest amongst the women," said Vera uneasily.

"So Franky Doyle still here?" Asked Joan.

"Still hanging on," replied Vera.

"She still dating that wench, Kim?"

"I... I think so, I'm not really sure," replied Vera.

"I think she's due for parole, wouldn't you say? She's been in here for a few years, been on good behaviour. Give her parole officer a call, would you?" Asked Joan.

"Of course. Would you like to me to inform her?" Asked Vera.

"No. I don't want these woman thinking that they can play me just yet. I want them to feel the fear of God first," decided Joan.

"Yes Governor." Vera nodded before stepping out of the office.

Life was good.

Will started his afternoon shift, walking through the locked down compound. He walked past H1, doing a quick visual count, then moved on to H2.

"Mr Jackson? Mr Jackson, how's Franky?" Asked Kim.

"I don't know yet. As soon as we know something, I'll make sure someone comes down to tell you," Will replied.

"Thanks Mr Jackson," answered Kim. She returned to the couch, knees drawn up to her chest, rocking slightly. Will watched her for a moment, then returned to his rounds.

Some things never changed.

"Francesca Doyle. It's been two years since I met you in processing. How are you?" Asked Joan, menacingly.

"Thought I had a little more time before you came in here. How's Blackmoor? Still standing, or did it come crashing down around your ears?" Asked Franky.

"Blackmoor is doing so efficiently that they decided to post me here. I see things haven't changed with you; what did you do this time?" Asked Joan.

"Bashed in my own cell; scored myself a punctured lung, broken wrist, bruising over most of my chest and back, and a laceration on my forehead that required six stitches. Think I did pretty well; doc wants me to spend another night in here before he releases me back to the compound, make sure I'm getting better," said Franky.

"I think that's an excellent idea, but perhaps better spent with you in restraints. Wouldn't want you to get any ideas now, would we?" Stated Joan. She pulled out the set of Velcro restraints and strapped Franky to the bed, before stepping back.

"I can't see you being a danger to yourself now," said Joan.

"What the bloody hell are you doing? Let me go!" Growled Franky.

"Ensuring your safety Francesca. Don't struggle too much, you don't want your lung to collapse again, do you?" Joan left, and Franky found herself alone.

"Freak."

Joan marched through the corridors, flanked by two menacing male guards. She was heading to her office for an officers meeting.

One that could change history.

She flung open the door, announcing her arrival.

"Governor," said Vera, standing near Joan's desk.

"Vera. I'd like to welcome you all; for those who haven't met me either today or when I was working here two years ago, my name is Joan Ferguson. Mr Channing has brought me in to bring reforms to is prison, as he felt Governor Davidson was not succeeding," said Joan.

"So what happens now?" Asked Fletch.

"Things are going to change from here on in. Prison is a hard life, intended to serve as a punishment for crimes committed. Right now, they have too much freedom. Televisions, gym privileges, educational opportunities, tea and coffee in their units. It's like a resort," scoffed Joan.

"So what do you propose Governor?" Asked Will.

"Each prisoner will be coded. They can keep their precious tea and coffee for now, but everything else will be secured. Mr Channing will be employing eight new guards to help with rotations. Prisoners will be graded on behaviour, not on sentencing. Ratings will start from black, with no privileges, up to white, with full privileges," stated Joan. She passed out sheets of paper with the new code system on it.

"This is insane! Wentworth has always worked on the traditions of opportunities, so women can further their education, stay in shape and have some form of contact with the outside world. You can't go changing it up," exclaimed James Manning.

"I can, and I will," said Joan firmly.

"Actually Governor, you can't do that without Mr Channing's signature," said Vera, her voice weak.

"God Vera, I hoped you wouldn't notice that. Fine. In the absence of Mr Channing's signature, we will instead complete spot checks at random intervals during the day, as well as random drug testing. You'll take care of that, won't you Vera?" Asked Joan, taking a seat at her desk.

"Of course Governor," replied Vera.

"Excellent. I want curfew to be tightened; instead of seven o'clock, I want them locked in by six thirty, with mealtimes at six. Five o'clock will be bathroom privileges, and all women will be supervised heavily. Since Miss Davidson Hansen in charge, the women have been showing their dominant sides, taking over the prison. I need that to stop, and to stop now. Fletch, Will, you two will take night rounds with Manning and Lee. C Block has been a little bit rowdy as well according to Miss Davidson's logs. H was her biggest problem though," said Joan.

"So crackdown on them like we normally do," muttered Linda.

"Body searches too," ordered Joan.

"Yes Governor," replied Linda.

"You're dismissed," said Joan, waving her hand. She started shifting through paperwork again.

"Vera, please wait," called Joan. Vera paused and faced her superior.

"Yes Governor?" She responded.

"Parole hearing. Don't forget," she reminded, not glancing up from the paperwork.

"Of course not." Vera turned heel and walked out. Dr Ward met her in the hall.

"Someone restrained Francesca," he said uneasily.

"What do you mean?" Asked Vera, confused.

"Someone restrained her to the bed. None of the women have been up there, and she won't tell me who did it. She's strained herself trying to escape, and we've given her some panadol to ease the symptoms, but I'm reluctant to give her anymore unless necessary," he replied.

"Did Elise see anything?" She asked.

"Nothing. It's strange. I just though you should know," replied Dr Ward.

"Not a problem. When is she fit to return to the compound?" Asked Vera.

"Tomorrow, after a night of observation. She should be supervised where possible, and no strenuous activity, but otherwise, she will be physically fine to return. Mentally, I'm not as positive in my answer. She appears depressed, over what, I'm not sure," he replied.

"We send her back, the women will look out for her, and it'll balance itself back out again. If it's an issue, put it in your report and follow it up every few weeks," said Vera decisively.

"Understood. Ten tomorrow, she can be returned. I'd like to keep her here overnight, just for observation. I'm not sure if she received a head injury, so better to be safe than sorry," answered Dr Ward.

"Not a problem. I'll make sure that there is a guard to escort her back, and we'll keep an eye on her where possible. Thanks Ward." Vera walked on, heading to the officers lounge.

She needed a strong coffee, and fast.

"You must be Emily." Emily glanced up from her magazine to see Bea at her door.

"Bea, right?" She responded.

"Yeah, that's me," she replied.

"Nice to finally meet the woman who killed my aunt," answered Emily blandly.

"Jacs was your aunt?" She asked.

"Yeah. She married into the crime family, and it was perfect for her. Fit every need she had. Mum nearly blew her top when she found out what Aunty Jac was up to," said Emily, flipping to the next page.

"So what did you do to end up in here?" Asked Bea.

"On remand. There's an investigation going on into an accident that Charlie and I were both involved in; they weren't sure if we were at fault or not, so we were sent here courtesy of Uncle Vin. Always said 'if it was a good enough prison for his Jacqueline, then it would be perfect for his nieces while they sort this bungle out'," said Emily.

"So what happened in the accident?" Asked Bea, curious.

"Lost control of the car, killed two boys. They're not sure if they boys were mucking around in their car before we hit them, or if it was our fault," replied Emily.

"Oh, sounds serious," said Bea.

"Not really. What about you?" Asked Emily.

"Tried to kill my husband, drug smuggling, and then Maurer of another prisoner. I'll be living here for a long time," replied Bea.

"What did Aunty Jac do to you?" Asked Emily.

"What do you mean?"

"For you to have lost your cool and killed her, she had to have done something serious. We knew she was losing her power in here; Uncle Vin was going to marry that slut from the lawyers company and divorce Aunty Jac," stated Emily.

"She killed my daughter Debbie. Well, she didn't, but her son Brayden was dating her..."

"Oh my God. You're Debbie's mum," said Emily, eyes wide.

"Yeah. Did you know Debbie?" Asked Bea.

"We... Charlie and I were Brayden's suppliers for a little while; his other supplier was bust, and he needed some, so we took over for a while. He spoke about Debbie frequently; we thought it w as pretty serious. Then he stopped coming around and stopped talking," said Emily, shrugging her shoulders.

"So you supplied him with the heroin he needed to kill my baby girl?" Asked Bea, her voice becoming dangerously quiet.

"Maybe," answered Emily cautiously. Bea didn't answer, instead storming off. Emily watched her leave, then headed straight to H4, looking for Charlie.

"Charls, you in here?" She called.

"Yeah, come on," she responded.

"Thanks for sticking up for me with Franky yesterday, but I wish you hadn't," said Emily, sitting on her sisters bed.

"She was beating the crap out of you. What did you want me to do?" Replied Charlie.

"I wanted you to pull her off, but not to go at her like a bull at a gate. She's got power Charls, and I'd hate to see you get hurt," pleaded Emily.

"She's been top dog long enough. Time for fresh blood, and who better than one of Jacqueline Holt's nieces?" Replied Charlie cockily.

"About that. Do you remember Brayden talking about Debbie?" Asked Emily.

"She was hot. Wished she swung the other way though. What about her?" Asked Charlie.

"Her mother is in here," said Emily softly.

"What of it?" Asked Charlie, leaning back on her bed.

"Her mother is Bea Smith."

"Fuck. You serious?" Swore Charlie.

"Damn straight. Found out from the source herself. We are in so much trouble Charls. She knows that we supplied to Brayden," said Emily.

"How does she know that?" Snarled Charlie.

"I... may have accidentally told her..." Said Emily softly.

"You fuckwit. Oh my God, she's gonna come after us, and we'll be screwed! What were you thinking? What happened to 'not telling secrets on the inside'?" She yelled.

"The cops are going to work out what happened, and then we'll be stuck here! How long did you think we could keep this quiet?" Retorted Emily.

"Long enough for Uncle Vin to get us out of here, but clearly not anymore thanks to you 'Miss Fuck-It-Up'," growled Charlie.

"This was ever going to work anyway! Let me just go out into the yard and announce to the entire yard what we did, hey Charlie?" Emily stormed out of the room and into the exercise yard. She climbed atop a table.

"Oi! Listen up!" She called. The women turned to face her.

"Please Em, not now," pleaded Charlie.

"I know all of you want to know how we got in here and what we did. Well, here goes nothing. Charlie and I were in a car that killed two boys, then we ran over my ex boyfriend because he slept with the wrong fucking twin! You want to know what landed us here though, in little old Wentworth. Can't be the food, cause that's pretty crap, right?" A few of the women laughed a little.

"See Charlie, they think I'm hilarious. We haven't even gotten to the best part yet! No, we were sent to Wentworth because our Uncle Vin's wife was here before she was murdered nearly four months ago," said Emily. The power of that statement settled over the crowd, and silence fell.

"Are you saying that you're related to Jacs?" Asked Simmo.

"You should know Sims; Spitz used to drive us when we came to visit. Jacqueline Holt is our aunt," stated Emily.

"No way," breathed Liz. The similarities were there, but she hadn't been looking for them before, and now they were so obvious.

"So you can stop talking behind our backs and talk to us. We'll decide whether we want tot all to you or not," said Emily bluntly. Charlie shook her head, then fled the yard.

"It's always the quiet ones," whispered Doreen.

"I'll check on Charlie, you take Emily," replied Liz, stepping away before Doreen could answer.

The power in H block had just changed dramatically, swinging like a pendulum.

Only one could come out victorious.

Question was, who would win?