Part Nine

Once the jury had been sworn in and the charges read out to the defendants, Jo rose from the prosecution bench and turned to face the jury. 

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I will present before you a catalogue of evidence against the defendants which will prove their involvement in the explosion and hostage incident which took place at Larkhall prison last year.  I will prove to you beyond all reasonable doubt that Ritchie Atkins and Tracy Pilkinton, also known as Snowball Merriman, conspired to commit the act of arson, which resulted in the death of one inmate, Sharon Wiley.  I will also prove to you that the defendent Ritchie Atkins planted a gun on a wing governor of Larkhall prison, a miss Karen Betts, and that the defendent Tracy Pilkinton used this gun to take Karen Betts hostage in order to achieve her escape from custody, and that on escape she further used this firearm to cause the act of grievous bodily harm to her co-defendent, Ritchie Atkins.  Ladies and gentlemen, this case is an extremely complex one, and you will be asked to take in an enormous amount of facts and to decide, on your analysis of these facts, whether the defendants before you are guilty or not guilty.  to take at first glance the defendent Tracy Pilkinton.  She was first brought in to Larkhall prison on a drugs charge.  It can be anyone's personal opinion whether or not this crime was committed in order to obtain a place at Larkhall.  On entering the prison, this woman befriended one of the prison officers, one James Fenner, and used her influence on him in order to procure herself a job in the prison library, and to enable herself to be given the privilege of receiving interlibrary loans from an outside source.  Evidence will be presented to you which will show that the books which were received as part of her interlibrary loans, contained, in their spines no less, a quantity of plastic explosives.  Tracy Pilkinton had continuous and on occasions solitary access to the prison library, enabling her to create and plant the bomb which has been proved to be the direct cause of the fire which took place at Larkhall prison in June 2002.  As a result of this fire, one inmate, Sharon Wiley, was killed.  It will be your task to decide whether or not this death makes Tracy Pilkinton guilty of the charge of man slaughter.  Following this explosion, Tracy Pilkinton was kept in segregation, during which time she somehow obtained the possession of the firearm.  An investigation took place at Larkhall prison, though it has never been established how the gun was returned to her.  On her release from segregation, Tracy Pilkinton was overheard making a phone call, quite obviously contacting her co-defendent, Ritchie Atkins.  Subsequent to this phone call, Tracy Pilkinton took the wing governor, Miss Karen Betts, hostage.  At gun point, she forced Karen Betts to leave the prison, and to drive to a rendezvous with Ritchie Atkins.  During the subsequent struggle, Tracy Pilkinton shot Ritchie Atkins, causing him to lose all power in his legs.  To summarise the charges against the other defendent, Ritchie Atkins, it simply remains to say that it will be proved beyond all reasonable doubt that it was he who planted the explosives inside the spines of the books which were sent to Larkhall prison as a part of the interlibrary loan scheme.  Evidence will also be brought before you to show that it was Ritchie Atkins who had unlawful possession of the firearm which he then planted in the handbag of the wing governor Miss Karen Betts.  It will also be proved to you during the course of this trial, that the defendent, Ritchie Atkins, persistently and continuously aided and abetted Tracy Pilkinton in her various endeavours to escape custody from Larkhall prison.  Ladies and gentlemen, throughout this trial, you will be introduced to a man and a woman who have maintained a total disregard for not only the damage they have caused, but for the death of Sharon Wiley.  I will bring before you eight witnesses, one of them the governor of Larkhall prison and one of them the prison Chaplin, who will testify to the unequivocal guilt of the two defendants before you.  You will hear from three women who were fellow inmates of Tracy Pilkinton, women who were either taken in by this woman, or who had their own suspicions and who could not give voice to their concerns.  You will discover just how clever this woman is and that her vocation as an actress put her in very good stead for the guise of innocent bystander.  I ask you, ladies and gentlemen, to listen to the evidence I will place before you, and to find the defendants guilty of the crimes with which they are charged." 

As Jo moved back to the prosecution bench, in the public gallery, Cassie turned to Roisin and said,

"Jesus, we should have employed her for our defence." 

"I just hope she can keep it up," Said Roisin.  "Someone's got to make her," She gestured at where Snowball was handcuffed to two police officers in the dock, "pay for Shaz's death.  That's what matters now, not what happened to us and to everyone else, just Shaz's death.  She snuffed out that young life, and she has to be made to pay." 

Part Ten

Brian Cantwell could remember that the one thing that persuaded him, as a well paid top silk, to take on the defence of Tracy Pilkinton and Ritchie Atkins, was the evidence of the £50 grand that would cover his fees. Otherwise, they made an initially unprepossessing pair of dubious characters with more surface charm than substance. The whole business, as described to him, was a confused tangle that it would take an exceptionally astute barrister to convince the average jury of 12 people plucked from their ordinary lives to make head or tail of the business far less convict . On the whole he thought he’d take this one on. Of the two witnesses, Ritchie Atkins came over to him as a lightweight male gigolo type and would have to be well coached in his lines. He then carefully considered Tracy Pilkinton as a credible witness and that gave him more hope. The woman was a natural actress and totally convinced of her lines and this would hold up well in court. She was his ace in the pack, his highest card to play. He had noticed, of course, Tracy Pilkinton’s exceptionally short  dress which was obviously low cut at the front though that, in no way, influenced his professional judgement, nor the seductive tones of her American accent.

Brian Cantwell listened to Jo’s opening statement with outward languid unconcern but with keen interest.

“Gentlemen .. and ladies … of the jury,” he commenced in lower key than his usual booming voice, always stumbling over the introduction in these deplorably PC conscious times.” You have indeed before you a most complicated set of circumstances to unravel in your minds. In defence of the accused, Miss Tracy Pilkinton and Ritchie Atkins, I do not need to prove that some other person, or persons in combination, conspired to execute the act of arson that led to the unfortunate death of one Sharon Wiley.” Here Brian Cantwell’s voice dropped to the respectful tones of not wishing ill of the dead, however anonymous that person was.” The case of the defence is that the accused did not perform the acts. I shall call no other witnesses than the accused for the very good reason that the witnesses called for the prosecution comprise the characters that had the most interactions with the accused. I shall, however, seek to establish that the witnesses comprise a somewhat ill assorted collection of people, all with different private agendas and with something to hide and their sheer numbers need not altogether add to the strength of the case for the prosecution. I shall also be demonstrating that one of the accused, Tracy Pilkinton, in the short period of time between admission to Larkhall and the explosion in question was entrusted with the highest level of prisoner privileges in comparison with other prisoners on the wing and will seek to establish the basis of the authority for these privileges especially as the witnesses for the prosecution includes the entire chain of command in G wing that is responsible for Tracy Pilkinton’s sentence plan  It will be part of the defence to rigorously test the so called evidence put forward by my learned friend and to winnow out what is hearsay or conjectural evidence and to demonstrate that what is left does not amount to a case proven beyond all reasonable doubt against the accused, Tracy Pilkinton. Turning to the other defendant, Ritchie Atkins, I shall seek to show that his contact with Larkhall prison was purely minimal as an occasional visitor to his mother, Yvonne Atkins, curiously speaking one of the witnesses for the prosecution and that he could not possibly be implicated in the arson and unfortunate death of Shaz Wiley. Otherwise, my defence of the accused will arise as evidence is given by the witnesses for the prosecution.”

Jo Mills was a shade surprised by Brian Cantwell’s comparative lack of bombast until she reflected on the fact that he had carefully omitted references to the weaker side of his case, the forced abduction of Karen Betts at gunpoint and the shooting of Ritchie Atkins. A defence of this charge could very easily show in open court that the bullet was really intended for Karen Betts. This was akin to jolting a precariously perched frying pan full of hot fat into the burning fire, She made a careful note of this point for later on.

“………..and Snowball Knobbing Merriman really is a saint. It’s just that I need glasses so I can see the halo round her neck.” Cassie swore contemptuously under her breath.

Part Eleven

Yvonne hardly ate a thing when her and Karen went to meet Cassie, Roisin and Lauren in the canteen.  Fenner followed them but as soon as he saw who was there, he said,

"Jesus! Not the dyke duo out on a pardon?" 

"Nice to see you too, Fenner," Was Cassie's equally uncivil reply.  He simply glared at the five of them en masse and moved to go somewhere else.  Only those not directly involved in the trial were able to eat.  Both Karen's and Yvonne's nerves were strung as taut as possible.  Yvonne because she kept going over and over the things the defence barrister might ask her, and Karen because she been forced to spend the last three hours in Fenner's company and would be doing the same this afternoon. 

"Sod this," Said Yvonne after a while.  "I'm going outside for a fag."  Karen decided to join her and they stood leaning against the wall, feeling like errant adolescents sneaking out for a secret smoke behind the bike shed.  Yvonne suddenly asked,

"How the hell did it all come to this?"  Karen took a deep drag and asked,

"How do you mean?" 

"I mean, did he do all this and help her to do everything she did because I was such a crap mother?" 

"Yvonne, we've had this conversation before.  We've both made huge mistakes as mothers, but that gives neither of our sons the excuse to do anything they've either done or might do in the future.  I've got absolutely no idea what Ross might end up doing now he hasn't got college to keep him on the straight and narrow." 

"I stood there and watched while Charlie threatened to nail him to the warehouse floor!" Said Yvonne, as if only just realising her part in that whole nightmare. 

"Oh and what exactly were you supposed to do?" Asked Karen.  "Because though you'll hate me for saying it, not even you could have been expected to disagree with Charlie Atkins and still be living to tell the tale." 

"I really don't want to go in there this afternoon," Yvonne continued.  "I don't want to have to look in to his eyes and see everything I've done wrong over the years."  Karen ditched her cigarette and put her arms round Yvonne and gave her a tight squeeze. 

"One day," She said her face very close to Yvonne's, "I'll tell you the story of one of the biggest mistakes I've ever made, a mistake that almost cost me my sanity."  They stood there in companionable silence, simply taking strength from each other's proximity, until Jo Mills appeared.  At first she didn't like to disturb them.  They looked so right, so complete that the sight of them tugged at something deep inside her.  But time was moving on and justice would wait for no man, or woman come to that. 

"Yvonne," She said gently.  "It's time to go in."  Yvonne found herself not wanting to relinquish her hold on Karen, not wanting to leave this safe haven of brief tranquillity. 

"You'll be fine," Karen said giving her a last squeeze.  As Yvonne moved with Jo towards the inside of the court, Karen called out to Jo, 

"Look after her."  Jo turned and smiled. 

"I'll do my best," She replied. 

When Yvonne took the bible in her right hand and intoned the oath, she wondered just what she was doing here, about to testify against one of her own. 

"Mrs. Atkins," Jo began.  "Please would you tell the court about the two visits you received from your son, Ritchie Atkins, at the end of May and the beginning of June last year?"  Yvonne took a deep breath. 

"Some time in the middle of May, Ritchie sent me a letter, saying that he wanted to see me and asking me to send him a visiting order.  This was quite a surprise, because I hadn't spoken to him for over four years." 

"And why was that?" Asked Jo gently. 

"He had a row with his dad." 

"I doubt the godfather of the east London version of the Mafia would be in favour of just a simple row," Muttered Brian Cantwell from the defence bench.  Jo was furious.  She wasn't two minutes in to Yvonne's evidence and Cantwell had already started. 

"My Lord," She said approaching the Judge's bench.  "such a remark from the defence barrister is surely prejudicial."  John was inclined to agree with Brian Cantwell, but he couldn't let his remark go unnoticed. 

"I agree Mrs. Mills," He said calmly.  "The jury will disregard Mr. Cantwell's remark, and you, Mr. Cantwell, will refrain from making such remarks."  Jo returned to stand in front of Yvonne. 

"How were things between you and your son when he visited you?" 

"He wanted to make up for lost time.  He said he'd missed me.  He reminded me that I used to call him my little angel when he was a child." 

"And when did he first ask you for money?" 

"On his second visit.  He pointed out that his sister was sitting pretty at home with decent cars in the drive standing idle.  He said he needed some money to set up an upmarket taxi business." 

"And you believed him?" 

"At the time, I had no reason not to.  He sounded so plausible."  Yvonne refused to let herself look over at the two people who had so successfully conned her out of fifty grand, and worst of all, her pride and self-esteem.  "So, I told him I'd fix it with his sister, Lauren, to release fifty grand from the business." 

"And during this time, Tracy Pilkinton, known to you as Snowball Merriman, had entered Larkhall.  What was your immediate impression of her?" 

"She was a trashy American movie star who we later found out had a line in porn films.  She was given a cell on enhanced, without any real reason, probably because the PO's thought of her as a minor celebrity.  She got very pally with her personal officer, Jim Fenner.  She hadn't been in five minutes when she got made up to a red band and given a job in the library." 

"And when was it you received the bouquet of flowers from your son?" 

"Not long before the open day."  Jo walked to the evidence bench and picked up something in a clear, sealed evidence bag.  Holding it up in front of Yvonne she said,

"And is this the card you received with the flowers?" 

"Yes, but when I received it, only the words at the bottom were on it." 

"Please could you be more specific?" Prompted Jo. 

"Only the words, "I love you mum", were on the card when I got the flowers." 

"And could you read the rest of the words on the card, for the benefit of the jury." 

"don't place your bets till the rod's in K's bag." 

"And these words definitely weren't on the card the last time you saw it?" 

"No."  Returning the card to the evidence bench, Jo returned to the attack. 

"If you might cast your mind back to June the fifteenth of last year, could you describe to the jury, the substance of the phone call you exchanged with your son in the prison Chaplain’s office." 

"I was in there with one of the visitors, Ajit Kahn.  The phone rang, and when Ajit Kahn answered it, it was Ritchie.  He was asking for Snowball Merriman." 

"Can I just make it clear to the jury that before this phone call, you had no knowledge whatsoever that your son was in any way acquainted with Snowball Merriman." 

"None at all.  I had no idea that he knew her.  When he figured out it wasn't Snowball on the phone, he ended the call.  I'd heard his voice only too clearly.  I did 1471 to get the number, it was Ritchie's mobile number.  When I rang it, he answered the phone with the word Snowball.  He was expecting it to be her." 

"And how did this make you feel?" 

"Bleedin angry," Answered Yvonne without a second thought.  "It all began to fit in to place.  Ritchie hadn't contacted me because he wanted to put the past behind us, he just wanted to get his hands on fifty grand, which knowing my luck is probably paying for his defence."  Even John winced at the thought of this.  Brian Cantwell began to look a little uncomfortable. 

"Did the phone call from your son make you wonder what Snowball was up to?" Asked Jo. 

"I guessed she was probably trying to escape, to meet up with Ritchie and go abroad with my money.  Oh he was clever," She said, finally making herself look over at the dock, where Snowball sat cuffed to Di Barker on one side, and Ritchie sat in his wheelchair, cuffed to a male officer with officers in between them.  "But he wasn't quite clever enough," Yvonne finished, giving Ritchie the kind of stare that let him know she'd won. 

"I have no more questions my Lord," Said Jo, dreading what was coming from Cantwell. 

Cantwell moved forward with too much of a spring in his step for Jo's liking. 

"Mrs. Atkins," He began.  "Exactly why were you in the prison chaplain’s office with Ajit Kahn?"  For once, John found himself wholeheartedly agreeing with Brian Cantwell, though he didn't think Jo would see it that way. 

"Is that really relevant?" Asked Yvonne, saying the words Jo was about to utter. 

"I think you should allow me to decide that," Quipped Cantwell, and when Yvonne wasn't forthcoming, he said,

"Mrs. Atkins, I must ask you to answer my question.  Why were you alone, in a deserted office with one of the visitors for the open day."  Yvonne was swiftly trying to think of an excuse that sounded vaguely authentic, but her seemingly endless supply of smart comments had deserted her. 

"You must answer the question," Put in John, who definitely wanted to know the answer to this one, if only to satisfy his curiosity.  Knowing she couldn't avoid it, Yvonne turned to face the judge and locked eyes with him. 

"We were shagging," She said, as if they were two friends out for a drink, not judge and witness facing each other across a crowded courtroom.  It seemed that almost everyone was trying to avoid breaking the silence.  Everyone that is, except Cassie.  Her comment of

"Typical," sent most of the public gallery in to fits of half smothered laughter.  Giving Yvonne a little wink, John simply answered,

"I see."  Cantwell, feeling thoroughly as if his limelight had been unceremoniously stolen, returned to his cross-examination. 

"And will Ajit Kahn confirm your story?" 

"He'll be hard put not to," Said Yvonne giving Cantwell a little smirk. 

"Now that we have that piece of scurrilous gossip cleared up," Continued Cantwell, "Are you absolutely sure it was your son who was attempting to contact Snowball Merriman?"  Yvonne looked at him in disgust. 

"Of course I'm sure it was Ritchie.  I am his mother for god's sake.  I'd know that voice anywhere, full of charm, just like his father's." 

"I'm not so sure you would know your son's voice anywhere, as you put it," Went on Cantwell, silkily.  "You were estranged from him for over four years, were you not." 

"No mother forgets her son's voice, no matter how long they don't speak," replied Yvonne. 

"And just why were you so quick and eager to hand over fifty thousand pounds, to a son you hadn't seen for such a long time.  Was it not perhaps because you felt guilty? Guilty for the way you and your husband had treated him?"  Cursing him to hell and back, yet knowing he was right, Yvonne said,

"Are you going in for a plea of diminished responsibility or what.  The reason I chose to give him fifty grand, has absolutely nothing to do with why he chose to help that murdering cow!"  At the hint of verbal support from the public gallery, John cleared his throat. 

"Mrs. Atkins, might I remind you that you are in court."  Cantwell moved in again, but this time for the slaughter. 

"You can hardly call yourself a good role model, can you.  A mother who allows her son to be threatened, with being nailed to the warehouse floor, among other things? No wonder you felt guilty, and well you might.  Is it really any wonder that your son found it so easy to become ensnared in such a disastrous scheme for revenge?"  Jo was about to move forward to launch in to her long list of objections, but Yvonne got there before her. 

"How dare you," She said, all the anger and hurt clearly showing in her face.  "Don't even think about laying the responsibility for Ritchie becoming involved with that evil tart at my door.  He chose to do everything he's ever done, including screwing me out of fifty grand and trying to fit up Karen Betts for the bomb."  Cantwell changed tack to try and fluster her. 

"And how do we know that it wasn't you who wrote the extra words on that card?" 

"Because I bleedin said so," Shouted Yvonne, losing any hint of decorum she might have had. 

"And just how trust worthy is the word of an Atkins?" Cantwell said. 

"You should know," Came back Yvonne.  "After all, you're defending one."  There was utter silence when she said this.  As if going for damage limitation, Brian Cantwell moved back to the defence bench. 

"No more questions, Mr. Cantwell?" Asked Deed calmly. 

"No, My lord," Came Cantwell's subdued reply. 

John concluded the afternoon's proceedings by saying,

"Court is adjourned till ten tomorrow morning." 

Yvonne's anger had dissipated by the time she left the courtroom.  Jo caught up with her outside. 

"I'm sorry about that," Jo said. 

"Not your fault," Replied Yvonne matter-of-factly.  "It ain't your fault that Ritchie's barrister's a wanker of the highest order.  He didn't sound like he was trying to defend Snowball all that much though." 

"I think he might be going for damage limitation," Said Jo.  "Let's face it, Ritchie is looking at a far shorter sentence, if he's convicted, and Ritchie also probably has the right contacts to make Brian Cantwell afraid of him if he doesn't get the right result." 

"You're on the ball," Said Yvonne, which was probably the best complement Jo had ever had from someone like Yvonne Atkins.  "You want to be careful of him, though," She went on.  "don't forget I probably know most of the other witnesses better than you do.  He'll make mincemeat of Grayling, not that he doesn't deserve it, but it might not do much for your case." 

"I'll bare it in mind," Said Jo entirely grateful for a warning of this kind.  Then catching sight of John, Jo excused herself from Yvonne and moved towards him with the speed and aim of a cat following its prey. 

"How could you," Was her opening rejoinder.  John looked at her slightly surprised. 

"How could I what?" He said to her. 

"You just let Cantwell tare Yvonne Atkins to shreds.  That wasn't on, John, and you know it." 

"For a start," He said, his own anger beginning to rise.  "It looked to me like she was doing perfectly well on her own, and second, you are completely out of order approaching me like this." 

"Oh, when should I approach you, in bed?" 

"There are worse places," He said with a little smile. 

"this is no joke, John," She said, clearly still riled. 

"Jo, listen.  It hasn't damaged your evidence, and Yvonne Atkins needs no looking after from me.  She's quite capable of fighting her own battles." 

"That's hardly the point," Said Jo, beginning to calm down. 

"She managed to ruffle Cantwell's feathers and question his judgement in acting for their defence in the process.  That isn't going to make either him or his clients look good in the eyes of the jury.  She did you a favour, Jo.  Stop worrying." 

Having heard most of Jo's side of this argument, as it had been given in a fairly loud voice, Yvonne grinned.  So, the judge and the prosecuting barrister had more in common than their profession did they.  She filed it away as a little fact to be used later if it should ever come in handy.  Moving towards where Cassie, Roisin, Lauren and Karen were waiting for her, Yvonne almost stopped in her tracks when she saw Karen's face.  She was extremely pale and looked like a scared rabbit about to flee at the slightest provocation.  Lauren came forward to hug her. 

"Mum, you did brilliantly.  Really gave that barrister what for."  Yvonne gave her daughter a quick squeeze and looked at Karen.  Disentangling herself from Lauren, she moved towards her. 

"Are you all right?" She asked Karen. 

"No," Was Karen's only reply.  "I need to get out of here.  I just wanted to know how you got on." 

"I had a bit of a fight with the defence barrister, and I think I made Jo Mills feel a bit superfluous, but yeah, not too bad.  You look terrible, what's happened?" 

"Nothing," Karen said quietly. 

"And I'm a catholic priest," Replied Yvonne succinctly. 

"Really," Said Karen, "I just need to get out of here and have a large drink."  Seeing it would be pointless to press the issue, Yvonne simply said,

"Well, if you feel like a chat later, I'm in all evening." 

"I might take you up on that," Said Karen, knowing without doubt that she had too.  She had to tell Yvonne about everything now.  Come hell or high water, Fenner had made that crystal clear. 

Part Twelve

Karen had always thought she could handle any situation but, as she watched Yvonne head out to the courtroom to testify, she suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable as the one human being that she felt she could rely on was temporarily away from her side and she was going to be stuck in the same room with Jim bloody Fenner. If there was one thing she was sure of, he could be totally relied on to be utterly unreliable and totally dishonest. Yet he was as important in the trial as anyone and she felt she had to restrain herself from  lashing out at his innuendoes and sour jibes. Fenner, selfish as he was, could not begin to comprehend Karen’s ingrained sense of the larger picture.

 “You and Atkins, eh. Would never have guessed it.” Fenner leered at her. ”What’s with you women governors at Larkhall that you go moist at the sight of a cold blooded criminal?”

Karen lit a cigarette without answering and took in puffs of nicotine deep down into her lungs. One day she’ll cut the cigarettes down and go on a health kick but the time right now most certainly was not right.

“If you must know, Jim, I was giving Yvonne a bit of comfort before she goes up against the defence barrister. She’s going to have a hard time of it what with facing her own son in the dock and testifying against him. If you’ve done your homework, you’ll have figured that one out.”

“So it was all innocent, like Stewart and Wade were.” leered Fenner.

“You keep bringing up that old chestnut,” sighed Karen wearily. ”Leave it out won’t you. In any case you’ll have a few tough questions to face when you get asked about the favours you did for Merriman, like Shell Dockley before her. Seems as if you need to watch your own back before stabbing other people in theirs.”

Fenner’s face turned red with anger especially as his favourite phrase was used against him. That dangerous glitter made his eyes burn and his mouth set tight and thin lipped. That, indeed was what worried him. He wanted to see that bitch Merriman go down for making a fool of him and Atkins for being that gangster’s moll’s son and for shagging Karen when by rights she was still his. It was all an unfortunate misunderstanding which had got out of control. The fact that she could even think of going to the police really got to him and hurt him. He also had that maddening feeling that the woman he was used to  smooching up and keeping sweet was dangerously out of hand. She had wanted to see him behind bars for that unfortunate incident at his bed sit, even though she didn’t go ahead with it. No woman would ever get the better of him as far as he was concerned.

“Now listen to me, bitch.” Fenner snarled though keeping his tones low. ”You better get into your head that in this trial we work as a team, me and you like it should be not you and Atkins. If we get our stories right we can nail the pair of them, Merriman and Ritchie Atkins, so tight that the nick they go to might as well as throw away the key.” He hurled the words into Karen’s face from inches away which brought back horrible memories of that other night months ago which she had done her best to forget. But there she was, trapped inside a bare interview room in an ancient court building where the world went on outside, even in open court. The silence that surrounded them might as well have taken them miles from any human contact instead of yards. Karen shrank back in horror from Fenner because he had touched a nerve that hit almost the only vulnerable spot that she had.

“You are going to go into court and you are going to testify that, as wing Governor you authorised Merriman’s prison duty in the library. I told you that she had a collection of books in her room about movie stars and had a real interest in books. I was the personal officer, you were Wing Governor. We stand together on this one. This way that bastard isn’t going to take us both to the cleaners.”

“Us,” Karen asked in total derision. More like you.”

“Because if you don’t play ball with me, a few things just might come out in court that you, Karen ‘politically correct’ Betts wouldn’t like the defence barrister to hear.” He gave an evil leer and the dimly lit room threw upward shading shadows on his face as if in some sinister horror film. He paused a bit to let Karen sweat and to wonder what he would say next. The naked exercise of power of Fenner over another vulnerable human being was something that he most enjoyed feeling.

“It all depends if those high and mighty people in their gowns and wigs believe you. If they don’t believe you, you’re nothing. Let’s see, it might come out how generous you are with your favours to men, first me, then Waddle, then me again and then, wait a minute, to the very man who is sitting in the dock. Wouldn’t look very good to the jury.”

“I’m not on trial, you bastard. There’s a perfectly good explanation for everything I did.

Not that a bastard like you would know it. You, Jim Fenner, who’ll screw around with any woman with a short enough skirt.” Karen fired back at him though the note of desperation in her tone was not lost on Fenner.

“And then there’s the matter of the so called sexual assault on you. Not very convincing when you back down at the first sign that you’ll have to swear an oath in court…….just like you’re going to have to do right now.”

The nightmare of the past few months was cruelly dragged back for her to relive in all it’s horror, not to just remember. Karen closed her eyes to shut out the sight of Fenner’s face.

Suddenly, there was a shuffling sound and banging doors, as Yvonne’s testimony was complete. In a real fever of desperation, her mind grabbed at the vision of Yvonne’s face and that she would be out of this psychologically bolted and barred room. She wanted her freedom desperately and she ran blindly for the exit and out into the cooler air of the spacious court building. She felt clammy with fear and wanted desperately to be amongst those who believed in her.

There stood Cassie well dressed in her blue trouser suit chatting to Roisin whose quick smile and physical closeness expressed all the love and light between the two of them. And Lauren, whom she had seen from time to time as a surly disrespectful visitor, cast her eyes questioningly on her with that look of concern that was so Yvonne. Her feelings were written all over her face but this time, the three women, two of whom she’d locked up for a living, were never so welcome.

“You’ll think on what I’ve said, Karen.” Fenner murmured. The relative light of the court transformed him into just another man in anonymous prison uniform who slunk for the exit. With a huge sigh of relief, Karen spotted Yvonne who was last in the steady stream of people funnelling out of the court chamber. She couldn’t wait to get out of the court building.

In the melee of people in the high domed court foyer, Brian Cantwell pushed forwards in a self important way furious about being outsmarted. He was headed for his room in  chambers where he could down a generous amount of the bottle of port and in his dreams, fantasise that he was still the red-hot barrister of his ambitions and dreams. Somehow, half drunk, things looked a lot better. It was accepted by his wife whose thoughts were occupied by the latest drama at the Women’s Institute that his career demanded that he socialise with his colleagues in chambers till late hours and this was very convenient to her as the man could never keep up with the subtleties of who was whose best friend. He was always a year behind, poor thing. Men from her experience were like that and never understood the little pecking orders which her mind was attuned to. It gave her something to do in her day besides planning the latest Bring and Buy.