"Simone," the younger woman said in a feebly complaining tone of voice as the fair-haired woman radiated unwanted enthusiasm comparatively early in the morning."You know how I love to wake up gently."
"Never you mind," the other woman said in a relentlessly enthusiastic tone that made her feel correspondingly woeful."We were going to read this article in bed together. You promised, OK."
"But I can't get my eyes to see straight," wailed the younger woman.
"So the solution's obvious. I'll get us a coffee and we'll be ready," Simone answered, relentlessly cheerfully. The younger woman sank back into the pillow and missed the delightful rear end shot of Simone as she headed for the kitchen. God, how does that woman of hers get all that energy, Annabelle thought to herself as she lay back, feeling utterly wasted. As she lay in a vegetative state halfway between sleeping and wakefulness, Simone returned, her naked feet lightly pacing her way towards their bed. They lay together, side by side as the younger woman's half-focussed eyes tried their best to conjure up sharp defined images she could relate her world to and, failing that method of waking up, she persuaded her lips to sip coffee, a bit at a time, out of her mug. Finally, her eyes became more obedient and, lying snuggled against Simone's gratifyingly shapely body, she let her hold the magazine and her brain took in firstly the tasteful photograph of two very attractive women and finally the article in question on Pages 4 and 5.
…...
"Helen Stewart and her partner of three years, Nikki Wade gave an acerbic commentary of the prison system from both sides of the prison bars and reminisce fondly on how they came to fall in love.
"So why now have you come out with your memoirs?"I asked.
"A very good mutual friend Barbara Hunt was blocked from publishing her diaries of the deficiencies of the British prison system so we thought we'd try instead,"was Nikki's laconic reply in her educated Home Counties accent.
"OK, I was a young, crusading, idealistic Wing Governor in a crumbling Victorian prison whose very texture and Old Boy's network was a darkly authoritarian regime riddled through and through by favouritism and corruption," Helen Stewart led off in her expressive Scottish accent, as shapely as her figure."For instance, the official zero tolerance on drugs was enforced in reality by randomly testing for drugs women they know to be clean to keep the figures low as all prisons were at it. As it was put to me very cynically by James Fenner, Principal Officer and corrupter of everything he came into contact with, 'Prison makes them feel bad, drugs make them feel good. They'll get hold of 'em, no matter what we do.' Privileges like single cells with a higher weekly goods allowance from the prison shop, duvet cover, curtains didn't necessarily go to prisoners who most merited but..."
"...which screw liked you," interjected Nikki cynically.
"Its culture couldn't have been better designed to drag down inmates self esteem once they passed through its gates. One of them, my partner Nikki Wade had done 2 years before I came on the scene and was understandably wary and defensive of anyone wearing a uniform."
"Yeah," laughed Nikki Wade, her alert brown eyes flashing with laughter."My girlfriend at the time, Trisha Williams told me 'you didn't tell me she was such a babe." I was faced with what I thought was a ten year stretch for taking out a policeman with a broken bottle who was trying to rape her. Understandably, she couldn't put her life on hold while I was locked up inside. I was in the depths of despair when Helen sought my help when her plans to make obvious improvements in the system were being systematically wrecked by the screws who saw prisons as about locking prisoners up and throwing away the key. They are so stupidly reactionary that they made any halfway reasonable inmate want to kick off and act like rebellious schoolkids.".
"It wasn't allowed for me, a prison officer to fall in love with Nikki, an inmate when I was supposed to be her jailer. It was, I suppose, like a teacher falling in love with one of her students however mature she was in her emotional and intellectual makeup,"Helen said in reflective tones, taking up the thread of their story.
"Surely not?" I exclaimed somewhat naively. I am, of course, reacting to two women who are so obviously an item in the way they catch a passing thought and lob it back and forth between themselves. Somehow, I couldn't imagine them in the roles they'd once been trapped in.
"What's moral isn't necessarily legal just the same as what's legal isn't necessarily moral. Readers must see plenty of that for yourselves in the outside world," Nikki's deep brown sombre eyes told me forcibly."In any case, I have never met anyone like Helen who is least likely to show unfair favouritism, least of all in her love for me."
"I suffered from a background of Presbyterian guilt and very real rules I was there to uphold and exemplify,"Helen Stewart said, her green laughing eyes temporarily shaded over by dark memories."I'd never fallen in love with a woman before. It turned my life upside down in finding out what the love of a good woman could do for me," Helen said slowly.
"And vice versa,"cut in Nikki."I'd been out since I was sixteen."
"I took on her appeal against what transpired to be a life sentence, something Nikki wasn't aware of. The law and order brigade have much to blame indirectly for that sentence- 'lesbian cop killer' was a tag that came far too easily to their Neanderthal minds. One of the present crimes in this society is that they have far too much of a hold on the popular press. The reality was way, way different. We found out that the policeman who tried to rape her had a history of physical and mental abuse against his wife. We also discovered an ex-colleague of DC Gossard, Sally Anne Howe who'd been raped by Gossard, had gone to make a complaint against him but withdrew it under pressure by her colleagues who then forced her out of the police force. This information was withheld from Nikki's defence barrister at her original trial. The grounds of the appeal that set Nikki free was of provocation, both by Gossard and the extreme situation she'd been placed in. It doesn't paint a pretty picture of the justice system and we both got a farewell drubbing from the reactionary press," Helen concluded with a look of distaste on her expressive features.
"So what are you now both doing with your time," I asked.
"We both work with Women In Prison, a prison reform organisation headed by our very powerful and dynamic boss Chris Tchaikovsky – named after the famous composer – and we're going to take a holiday in San Francisco, a place where Nikki has always dreamed of visiting as it is traditionally gay friendly. This will be like a second honeymoon." Helen concluded with a sidelong look of approval from Nikki.t update
All the time I interviewed these two strikingly well defined women who had endured much, I was struck by their incredible sense of empathy and that two women who truly loved each other and meshed perfectly with their uniquely equal love of justice.
A silence hung in the air as both women were struggling for the right words to express their feelings.
"Wow," Annabelle said at last, as she fumbled around for a way of expressing her feelings."These two ladies are quite something. No, scratch that one, they're amazing. Two women in like some Alcatraz environment actually falling in love with each other and coming out the other side? That's unbelievable."
"I feel they're talking to us without even knowing it," Simone said dreamily, half to herself."I can tell they had a tough time of it, not being able to speak openly how they felt about each other because the rules forbade it and they've come out the other side so well. They sound so loving and well-adjusted, so clear in their thinking. You can see it in the photograph."
"They're even coming over to the west coast. I wonder if we could get to see them but hey, California is a big state," Annabelle said in a meditative tone of voice.
The younger woman's distracted manner made it obvious to Simone that the article was profoundly affecting her, the way she held it in her hands and she wasn't articulating a quarter of what she felt. Simone felt the same way.
"Hey, we really could get to meet them. You never know what might turn up," Simone said in an appealing tone of voice that made her sound teenage innocent. The dark haired woman laughed and nudged the side of her leg with her own. The one time Miss Bradley sounded so cute. It was only when Annabelle's thoughts started to focus on the present that the smile faded from her face.
"I don't suppose the mailbox will be overflowing with birthday cards from my folks," Annabelle said in a disconsolate tone of voice before very obviously trying to pull her spirits together."Still, I'd better check out to see if anything's waiting for me."
Simone passed her the key and let the younger woman trudge out towards the front door, a distinct slouch in her gait. Very casually, she reached for her guitar leaning against the corner and gently strummed a series of chord progressions that crossed her mind while the sunlight shone down on her. She focussed in tight on her guitar playing to distract from what might be happening outside and was pleased to be starting to fiddling around with variations on the chords and they sounded good.
Suddenly, the front door slid back and this fresh-faced woman came bursting in, clutching a bunch of envelopes in her hand and utterly transformed. Her face was glowing and her long hair streamed back behind her. She threw her arms round Simone's neck and kissed her.
"I love you, Simone. Your card is so romantic and beautiful," the younger woman said so excitedly when their lips were finally separated. The card had held nothing back in Simone's feelings as a large pink ornate heart occupied the front and, in Simone's neat writing she'd written 'To my soulmate all my love and devotion forever. Simone.'
"But that isn't everything, Simone. Just look," Annabelle added. On studying the writing on the envelope, the fair-haired woman's mental archives started getting into gear as she studied the rather cute looking card and mentally thought 'Aha' as she spotted the signature.
"To Annabelle, wishing you a very special birthday (with Miss Bradley). You and Simone have always been so kind to me and you look right together. Regards. Colins.".
A glorious, tender smile spread across the faces of both women. The card wasn't anything special in itself but both women couldn't believe that the very nervous Colins had tracked down their address and sent them this very special birthday card. They grasped immediately that this was her kind-hearted way of accepting them as a couple. Their spirits to hold this card in their hands after their run of unpleasant encounters with the hot dog salesman, Catherine and finally Senator Tillman.
"She's such a diffident being, wrestling with her own demons that it's so sweet of her to think of someone else apart from her own problems,"Simone said dreamily.
"Which means we'll have one friend when we go to the graduation," Annabelle pronounced in decisive tones. Simone perked up considerably at the thought which hadn't crossed her mind.
"So what other junk mail have we?"she asked softly
"Oh, just the usual junk mail,"Annabelle grinned happily in response as she laid the
opened envelopes on the duvet. "Oh, I forgot, a birthday card from my parents."
On first sight, the card was tasteful until Simone inspected it and a certain blankness of expression came to mind. Inside there was florid script written by the manufacturer which was airily empty expression of standardised feeling directed towards an idealised daughter. The personal inscription was brief and to the point.
"It's not very personal," observed Simone.
"You've said it," the other woman said in cryptic tones.
"You don't put your hair up any more like you used to do at St Theresa's," observed Annabelle after they'd got up and were drinking a morning cup of coffee."Don't get me wrong, I like the way you let it hang free."
"So do I," Simone said with absolutely no barriers in her mind between thoughts and words."So why did I used to do it? I felt my hair would fly all over the place being naturally curly. A bun would keep everything in its place, all in control. Believe me when I say it but I never thought I was following in Mother Immaculata's footsteps. That's what mind control does to you. You never see the chains that bind you."
"So you reckon you've got to where you want in life?"questioned Annabelle with a lifted eyebrow.
"Yes," Simone said, lightly laughing, her eyes dancing."I once had a discussion with Father Harris about it. I told him that I had no direction in my life when I thought I'd have life figured out. He advised me that maybe the best thing is to not try and figure it all out."
"Smart guy," commented the dark-haired woman approvingly."I guess he's saying that you should be open to experience life as it comes to you."
"That's about it," Simone said slowly and thoughtfully, still wondering if she and Annabelle would get to meet Nikki and Helen best by accident or by making plans. She wasn't sure enough of herself to place her faith in blind chance so she would sooner cover both options. The expression on her face was dreamy and abstracted until a thought popped into her mind. "In that case, we'll head over to the bank to open a joint account."
Annabelle blinked. It was her job to suddenly make crazy shifts in the conversation.