Nikki and Helen's last taste of England was the lowering black clouds overhead and the way a fierce gust of cold wind blew Helen's fold-up umbrella inside out as they pushed their luggage to the check-in at Heathrow Airport.
"Shit," Helen swore loudly as she parked her suitcase upright and stopped to pull the umbrella down. The wind blew a lock of hair into her face and spattered her skin with icy cold raindrops as she glared at the elements."I only packed our umbrellas as you nagged us into packing them."
Nikki grinned cheerfully at her partner's discomfiture. Mind you, she was going to live the holiday of her dreams in flying out to San Francisco and sampling the whole west coast scene. Thinking back over her life, she'd had a bumpy ride of it, often when she had least expected trouble. She had lived her adult life in London after she'd been expelled from boarding school for 'lesbian activities' and been rejected by her family. That had toughened up her capacity for facing rejection head on and determined her to slave away at any crummy job she could lay her hands on. Only when she'd set up her lesbian club 'Chix' with Trisha did she amass some decent money though one of life's ironies was that they never really had the time to spend the money they'd accumulated over the years. The tumultuous events of just one night of a certain sick minded creepy policeman being in the wrong place at the wrong time had changed all that and Nikki was faced with coming to a screeching halt in her comfortable and hectic lifestyle. She'd been first locked up in a police cell, firstly by obvious mates of the misogynist bastard she'd taken out with a broken bottle. After that, some smarmy judge pontificating like some Victorian male archetype had sentenced her to be imprisoned and subject to the arbitrary order of a load of screws with funny badges of rank on their sleeves and the moral uprightness of Mafia gangsters. Only once had she ever verbalised her dream when Helen had prevented her wild idea of going on the run after kissing and making up at Helen's flat after a bust-up. She remembered saying once to Barbara before she'd realigned her thinking ' Christ! I could have been been swanning around San Francisco right now.' She'd buried that daydream, straightened out her thinking and let that charismatic Scot with her straight nose, soft lips and steely gaze move heaven and earth to get her sprung out of prison. She'd moved into her lover's bed, her flat, her life and called it all theirs so both had found their new role in life. Working for Women In Prison had been a niche made for them both to drop into and everything had taken off from there. After two years getting established, her old daydream had re-emerged into her surface thinking.
"You don't really mind us clearing off for a couple of weeks holiday?" Nikki had asked anxiously of the founder of the organisation for whom both she and Helen had huge respect. They had been sitting in the unpretentious office that had made Helen's old office in Larkhall look positively palatial by comparison. This was one reason why both women liked working here as the organisation worked very much by force of personal example, the only organisational morality that Nikki ever respected.
"You go and get yourselves emotionally recharged for when you return. This organisation owes you a lot for handling that Diva interview so well. I'm really pleased that you're handling the social evening on the west coast."
"I'm only worried if I'm going to be asked to recount my heroic exploits," Nikki murmured with an embarrassed look on her face. This drew a laugh in response as Nikki's modesty was well known.
"Go on, you'll enjoy it. Neither of you are indispensable. You'll both wear yourself into the ground if you don't take a break," came the affectionate reply. The two women thought as one and profusely thanked their boss in ways that came instinctively to them.
Thus it was that the two women wheeled their luggage in through the automatic doors into the antiseptic, perfect world of airport land and spotted just where to check in. Helen had the wad of documentation clutched in her hand that she'd slid out of her handbag and got them out ready to present at the checkout with her usual beaming smile. Once again, Nikki felt that tinge of pride as she that she was carrying an authentic passport which would let her travel as freely as any other citizen without hindrance. Helen intercepted the faint flush of pleasure on Nikki's cheeks and knew what her partner was thinking. At the weigh-in, Nikki breathed a sigh of relief, not that she was going to be arraigned by mysterious men in uniforms bursting from out of nowhere but for a much simpler, prosaic reason.
"Thank God my case has clocked under the limit even with the books I took,"Nikki said with heartfelt relief.
"It's nor for the want of trying," retorted Helen.
"Yes, well, I can't bear to leave some of my books behind. You know I'm lousy in making choices,"Nikki replied wryly.
"Where Nikki and her book collection have been joined together in holy matrimony, let no one put asunder," Helen declaimed loudly with a mischievous grin.
Soon enough, they went through the transition to finally finding themselves seated in the row of seats in the large airliner that would transport them halfway across the world. They weren't looking forward to the prospect of coming off the other end, totally jet-lagged and reliant on in-flight meals and the drinks trolley. They were most relieved that their portable CD players hadn't been grabbed by some heavy handed customs guy as terrorist apparatus so they were pleased that their hand luggage included a selection of CDs and books to while away the long flight. Finally, the aircraft bumped its way along the tarmac accompanied by the blasting power of jet engined until they cranked up their power and propelled them into the sky with a gigantic whoosh and a tug to their stomachs. Thanks to Nikki's subtle propaganda over the years, images of the sunny climes of California on films had been imprinted on their minds and now at last they were airborne and they would encounter the reality.
"Have you got a copy of Diva with you?"asked Helen in a coy manner that drew a knowing smile from Nikki. It was already several hours into the flight from checking by her watch and they were suspended mysteriously in space inside this large metal tube while the monotonous sounds of the jet engines made their presence felt everywhere in the aircraft.
"We're just working women, darling. We might be front page for a month but the magazine isn't mainstream media. I know we're not stars and I wouldn't want to be,"Nikki said in dry easy tones.
"That's not what I mean. All I'm aware of is gabbling away to that nice journalist and the photographer and carefully adjusting my right hand and smile for the photographer that I have absolutely no idea if we turned out right."
Nikki murmured 'sorry darling', kissed her partner's cheek and reached inside her holdall and passed the magazine to her partner. Helen positioned the magazine on the armrests that divided their space so that both of them could read it while the large aircraft sped them through the sky. It was already six o clock Nikki slyly noticed the way Helen was pleased at the way they turned out in the photograph but gave her credit for flipping the pages to get onto the article. Helen read the article intently before sighing with satisfaction that the article really did do justice to them.
"Nikki, I am so glad that what we said made actual sense. I really felt my tongue was running away with me right at the end,"Helen rattled out which made her partner smile at the memory. As always, each of them was there for each other and had thoroughly internalised the other's separate experiences as they'd talked about their past.
"Christ, the article makes us out as bloody heroines. Still I shouldn't knock it. If our boss is happy in us waving the flag a bit and taking on the 'hang them and flog them brigade', then I'm happy that our love life gets a bit of an airing."
Helen pressed Nikki's hand as these words encapsulated all the fascinating quirks of Nikki's personality. Pretty soon, after they'd eaten their in flight meal, they noticed how the sky was still light outside when theoretically speaking, the night should have been drawing in. Both women were starting to feel tired and, as far was possible, they turned into each other and their eyelids started drooping as tiredness overcame them...
…...Nikki was dressed in jeans, trainers and a white shirt, much creased. She was conscious that the quirks of the laundry room only provided the opportunity to wash her much worn clothes at most. She was feeling tense as she always did, feeling that she needed to have eyes in the back of her head to deal with traitors who might stab her in the back, metaphorically or in reality. Once again, she saw the hated black and white uniforms which served to dehumanise their wearers as she waged her daily struggle only to give the minimum ground in what they could tell her to do. The institutional regime of the eye to the keyhole, being woken up and herded to her early morning shower and then to the same institutionally prepared regime of bacon and egg for breakfast and pie and chips for lunch and that time in the day when she could take care of her garden. Only the slim shape of Miss Stewart, wearing her blue suit, white shirt and dazzling smile stood out clear and sharp in the dull haze of the building she was locked up in. That smile was surely destined for her yet she could not walk up to her, kiss her on her lips and call her 'darling.' She could not even call her 'Helen' and that was the crime of all crimes. Only Helen and her possessed that secret and they had to play it cool in case the supercilious hateful eye of their enemy, Principal Officer Fenner would use it to bring down Helen's downfall. Above all else, Nikki has listened with sorrow to Helen's please that as she was her jailor, she could not compromise her position. Part of it accepted what Helen said and the other emotional side of her angrily rejected what she was saying. It hurt her so much that she and Helen were emotionally as one yet they were separated by rules and regulations that labelled her as a con and Helen as a Wing Governor. A sense of yearning never really left her. She would do anything to make Helen's life easier as she could see that Helen was under pressure from things that had gone wrong that were sure to be used against her. She could see the stress lines in her face, the way she ran her left hand through the lock of brown hair that hung over her eyes. What scared her was there was no end to this living hell except for the faint hope that her appeal would set her free. All she knew were the harsh artificial lights above her and the tightly shut bolts and bars...
"What's happened," Nikki suddenly said as she suddenly jerked awake."Where are we."
"Sweetheart," chuckled that well known voice in her ear. The word sounded like magic and calmed her jumpy nerves as she felt her partner's hand on her arm."We are flying at twenty thousand feet over the Atlantic and shortly coming in to Kennedy Airport to refuel."
"Thank God. That's good news," mumbled Nikki, still half present in the living nightmare that was Larkhall Prison."I can live with that."
"You mean you're really up for some cheesy in-flight movie with lousy acoustics?" laughed Helen incredulously.
"Better that than what's been going on in my head while I've been asleep. I was dreaming we were back in Larkhall. It was an averagely horrible day,no bang ups or DST strip searches."
"Poor you," Helen answered her voice melting with compassion. She squeezed Nikki's hand, figuring out that a minor public display of affection would not be noticed by a zonked out group of passengers.
In the meantime, the invisible wires of communication were busy as internet sites picked up the electronic image of the Diva magazine, preserved as an image document. It had everything that appealed to both romantic imagination and political drive and all shades of opinion in between. To the website owners, the two women were irresistibly gorgeous and their public utterances had that stylish mixture of intelligence and wit. This was the electronic age which challenged the tyranny of the corporate glossy magazine and the website owners saw themselves as the pioneers of a revolutionary form of communication which gave access to ordinary lesbians sitting in front of the computer screen to post their thoughts on the subject. It traversed physical obstacles to communication, overcame the prevalent syndrome of the lonely crowd, rootless urban living and the problem of seeking out like minded people on a city street or in some nameless bar, wrapped everyone all around and fused them into one self sufficient electronic universe. While Nikki and Helen's account of their life was taken up into this accepting world, this discourse took flight across the vastness of the Atlantic Ocean and those inquisitive souls who were eager to embrace the other side of the English speaking culture and their interest was sparked. Thus it was that bolder spirits came to contact Nikki and Helen's boss and asked if they would do them a favour in being invited over to their favourite hang out spot, to chat, hold forth and generally socialise. This was put to Nikki and Helen and the whole 'hang loose' way in which it was phrased appealed to them and assuaged Nikki's work ethic.
Finally, their aircraft came down from the heights having crawled across the endless map of the Mid West States to come down to earth and screech to a halt on the tarmac so that both women were processed through the same identikit aircraft lounge they'd arrived in.
"Hey, they're all talking in American accents,"Helen said in an innocent tone of voice. Nikki laughed out loud as she clung onto the smaller woman's arm. Together they rode the endless horizontal walkway that took them in a gentle glide to customs and to check in for their luggage. After the inevitable time taken to retrieve their belongings, they arrived dazedly out into the brilliant blue sunshine and the gentle warmth of the new country they had joined. Despite the jet lag that was starting to set in,their spirits lifted through the mental fog when they recalled the squally wintry weather they had left a lifetime ago and they knew that this would be only the start of a succession of drastic changes in store for them before they acclimatised themselves to new surroundings. They hailed a taxi and the suntanned youth wearing a baseball cap and vivid T-shirt casually manhandled their luggage into the boot of this impossibly wide and low slung car with the funny steering position on the left-hand side of the road. Helen gave the address and the car wheeled and turned its way along the sleek streets with roadside drive-ins. Finally, they checked into their hotel and both women had to pull themselves together to give details to the hotel receptionist.
"Hey look at those palm trees," exclaimed a wide-eyed Nikki, her keen eye for botany kicking into gear."I never realised the climate and the vegetation would be sub-tropical. This is totally amazing."
"What did you expect darling?" laughed Helen, mischievously getting her own back."A country like Britain only they drive on the other side of the road and have Greyhound busses instead of red London double deckers?"
It was only when they arrived at the tenth floor hotel room when they collapsed on their snow white covered soft bed. Their suitcases lay in the hall and in a drawer lay an old folded up copy of the Los Angeles Tribune just waiting to be found.