The Truth is Out There

 

 

Chapter 7

 

 

Helen went up to her room and made her call to Lofthouse, leaving out all reference to her meetings with Nikki and admitting only that she had one or two leads. She finished her call and laid her mobile on the bedside table. As she started to remove her sweater she heard someone cough behind her and spun round to find Nikki leaning against the bathroom door, arms folded.

 

“Sorry,” she grinned apologetically. “Thought I’d better warn you I was here.”

“How long have you been there?” Helen demanded accusingly. “And how the hell did you get in?”

 

“Why do you think I told Monica to give you this room?” Nikki asked as she moved further into the room.

 

“Was it your bedroom…yours and Trisha’s?” she asked quietly.

 

She shook her head. “I’m not that insensitive. It’s just a guest room but there’s a very sturdy drainpipe outside the bathroom window or at least it always used to be. I’ll have to give Dominic a rollicking for letting the maintenance around this place slip. Have you met him by the way?”

 

Helen looked at her in open-mouthed amazement. “You mean to tell me, you shinned up a bloody drainpipe?”

 

Nikki shrugged. “I’ve done it before. Admittedly when I was slightly younger and fitter,” she smirked. “Just after I bought this place, Trish lost her key…” she stopped and gave a bitter laugh. “There I go, living in the past again.”

 

Helen looked at her sympathetically. “Nikki, you can’t let what’s happened overshadow all the good times.”

 

“But it has done, Helen!” she exclaimed. “Trish and I had nine years together but when I try to remember all the things we had together – birthdays, parties, holidays – all I can think about is how she betrayed me.” She sat down on the edge of the bed, suddenly looking worn out. “Helen, what am I going to do?” she said despairingly.

 

Helen’s heart went out to her, as she sat beside her and caught hold of her hand. “Why don’t you give yourself up?” she asked softly. “Go to the police and tell them what you know.”

 

“And then spend the next ten years rotting in Larkhall!” she retorted, dragging her hand away. “I don’t bloody think so!” She stifled a yawn.

 

“Tired?” Helen asked compassionately.

 

“Too many nights sleeping with one eye open,” she joked.

 

“Stay here tonight, Nikki, and have a good night’s sleep,” Helen suggested. “Things might look different in the morning.”

 

“Seems like a good idea,” Nikki agreed. “I could certainly do with a shower and a change of clothes.” She stood up and crossed to the door, where she turned the key in the lock. “Just in case Monica decides to bring you breakfast in bed,” she explained.

 

“Do you want me to go and get you something to eat whilst you shower?” she offered.

 

“Too tired to eat, thanks.”  She smiled weakly then went into the bathroom.

 

Helen waited until she heard the shower running then undressed quickly and slipped on her nightdress.

 

When Nikki came back into the bedroom several minutes later wearing a towelling bathrobe, Helen’s eyes were shut and the duvet was pulled up to her chin. She smiled tenderly down at her. They had only known each other a couple of days but she knew already, she wanted this woman to be part of her life. She pulled back the duvet and prepared to climb into bed but Helen sat up in alarm.

 

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

 

“Getting into bed.”

 

“But I didn’t mean for you to sleep in bed with me!” Helen exclaimed.

 

“Don’t be such a selfish cow!” Nikki retorted. “If you think I’m spending the night in a chair when there’s half of a king-size bed going spare, you’re very much mistaken! You don’t have to worry, Helen, I’m not going to ravish you in the night,” she told her sarcastically. “Anyway, I’m too tired.” Before Helen could say anything else, she slipped into bed and snuggled down with a contented sigh.

 

They lay in total silence until Helen finally spoke. “Nikki.” She turned her head to find Nikki watching her. They lay looking at each other until Helen tore her eyes away, unable to meet the other woman’s forthright gaze. “Why were you being transferred from Larkhall?”

 

“Because I was found in a compromising position with the Wing Governor,” Nikki told her after a while.

 

“You were having an affair with a prison official?” she asked incredulously. “Isn’t that against the regulations?”

 

“Why do you think they were shipping me out?” she teased. “But, no, we weren’t having an affair. When we were caught, I was only comforting her.”

 

“So, the Wing Governor was a woman?” she said softly.

 

“Very much so.” Came the amused reply. “Blonde and beautiful.”

 

Helen’s heart sank. “But in the cabin, you said it was a long time since you’d held a…a beautiful woman in your arms,” she accused.

 

“I meant a beautiful woman I fancied. I was attracted to Karen – she was the Wing Governor – and I briefly thought it might develop into something more but she was married…”

 

“Married!”

 

“Why don’t you hear me out before you jump down my throat like a jealous girlfriend?” She gave an amused chuckle. “I forgot, that’s what you’re supposed to be. Don’t take your role so seriously, Helen.”

 

“Oh, fu…Why don’t you just go to bloody sleep?” Helen exclaimed, exasperated.

 

“Because I want to tell you about Karen. We kissed each other…once, then she got upset.”

 

“Because you’d kissed her?” Helen demanded.

 

“No, of course not!” Nikki exclaimed. “There you go again. Isn’t there any way to keep your mouth shut?” She smiled roguishly. “Then again, I can think of a very good way of shutting you up.” She started to lean towards Helen until she realised her intentions.

 

“Come any closer and you’ll be sorry,” she promised.

 

Nikki drew back with a grin. “Pity. As I was saying, Karen was married.” She gave Helen a fierce look, daring her to interrupt. “But she was having problems with her husband. I think he was a serial womaniser.”

 

“Something you’d know about,” Helen remarked, sarcastically.

 

Nikki’s arm snaked out and she grabbed hold of Helen’s shoulder. Her fingers dug into the soft flesh forcing Helen to look at her. “For your information,” she hissed angrily. “I was never unfaithful to Trisha and you and Karen are the only two women I’ve kissed since her death.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Helen said softly.

 

Nikki loosened her grip and stroked Helen’s shoulder gently. “Yeah, me too.” Her hand stilled and she abruptly rolled over and lay with her back towards Helen. “‘Night, Helen.”

 

“’Night.” For a long while, Helen lay looking at the back of Nikki’s head. She had never felt like this about a woman…or anyone…before. She had gone out with her ex-boyfriend, Sean, for two years and was all set to marry him, until he’d decided a career on Fleet Street held more attraction than she did. She sighed deeply then turned her back towards Nikki and switched off the bedside lamp.

 

Nikki slept fitfully. Being in Larkhall had hardened her to the luxuries of life and now the damn bed was too soft! On top of which, she was conscious of Helen’s presence. After nine years of being faithful to Trish, how could she fall so totally for someone in such a short time? If anyone asked her, she couldn’t explain the way she felt about Helen. It was as if she had come home, not literally, but emotionally. Helen was the person she had been waiting for all her life. What was it Barbara Hunt used to go on about? Soulmates, that was it.

 

She climbed out of bed and went across to the window, where she drew open one of the curtains. It was a beautiful night and the full moon was illuminating the grounds. It had stopped snowing and was starting to thaw. She heard the bed creak as Helen stirred in her sleep and turned round to look at her.

 

“Nikki?”

 

“I’m here,” she said softly.

 

Helen switched on the lamp then raised herself onto her elbow. “What’s wrong?” she asked sleepily.

 

“Nothing, go back to sleep,” Nikki told her.

 

“Can we talk?”

 

“About what?”

 

“You said you thought you knew who killed Trisha,” Helen said tentatively. “Will you tell me who it was?”

 

She shrugged. “What’s the point?”

 

“If I knew who it was, maybe I could keep an eye on them,” she suggested.

 

Nikki came and sat on the bed, leaning her back against the bedhead. “Monica had a son, Spencer. He had Down’s Syndrome. About three months after I went into prison, he had a fatal heart attack.”

 

“And you think he killed Trisha?” Helen asked incredulously.

 

Nikki looked at her for several moments before replying. “Not Spencer, Monica! Spencer was like my kid brother. He thought the world of me and would have done anything for me. The day Trisha died, he heard us arguing and had a go at her for hurting me. She laid into him, called him names and said some terrible…horrible things to him.” She looked at Helen, her eyes filled with tears. “I tried to get her to stop but she wouldn’t then Monica came in and slapped her. She said she would kill her if she ever hurt Spencer again.”

 

“So, Monica is the one you’ve been protecting all this time?”

 

“I had to, Helen. I couldn’t let her go to jail. You don’t know what it’s like in there.”

 

“Oh, Nikki. You little fool,” Helen said gently.

 

“I guess I’m just a hopeless case,” she murmured tearfully.

 

“Never that.” Helen moved up the bed towards her. “Come here,” she commanded softly. She put her arms around Nikki and drew her head against her breasts. “When we first met, you said something about leaving the country, were you serious?” she asked as she gently caressed Nikki’s hair.

 

“Not really. All I want is my old life back.”

 

Helen’s hand stilled. “You mean Trisha?”

 

“No, of course not!” she retorted. Helen smiled as she continued caressing Nikki’s hair. Nikki pulled away from her, an avid look on her face. “Helen, I could get a passport. We could go away together.”

 

“No, Nikki, this isn’t an option!” she exclaimed. “Do you want to be on the run for the rest of your life for a crime you didn’t commit? You’re innocent and going back is the only way you’ll prove it.”

 

“My life for Monica’s. Not much of an option is it, Helen?” she asked despairingly.

 

“But what if she didn’t do it? What if by trying to protect her, you’re protecting the real killer?” she reasoned. “What if Dominic did it? Who had she been having an affair with, Nikki? What if he did it?”

 

“I can’t cope with this!” Nikki cried as she ran her hands through her hair. “I’ve got to get away. Come with me, Helen. Tonight!”

 

“I can’t, Nikki! I can’t!”

 

Nikki gave a short, bitter laugh. “I thought you were beginning to care about me but obviously not enough, or you would come with me.”

 

“If I didn’t feel the way I feel, I wouldn’t be helping you,” Helen told her sincerely. “But you’ve turned my life upside down. I don’t know what to expect anymore, except that it won’t be normal.”

 

“Sorry, Helen. As you’ve just said, I don’t do normal.” Nikki looked at her scathingly.” So, if you want a husband, a job and 2point4 kids, you’d better piss off back to where you’ve come from!” She started to climb from the bed but Helen grabbed hold of her arm.

 

“Don’t you dare try and make me feel abnormal for wanting kids!” she exploded angrily.

 

“Helen, I’m not trying to make you feel abnormal. I’d like kids someday, too.” She looked down at the hand still resting on her arm. Helen’s grip imperceptibly tightened and Nikki groaned softly as she reached out and slipped her hand behind Helen’s head. She felt a momentary resistance then she was drowning in the sensation of soft lips moving under hers.

 

Helen lay back, drawing Nikki with her. She ran her fingers through Nikki’s hair as they kissed, softly at first then with rising passion. Nikki tore her lips away and started to kiss Helen’s throat, moving downwards and suckling the erect nipples through her nightdress.

 

Helen grabbed a handful of Nikki’s hair and gently tugged until her smiling face came level with her own. She kissed her, her teeth pulling at Nikki’s bottom lip then she ran her hands down the slender body, loosening the bathrobe and pushing it from her shoulders. She buried her face in the full breasts, licking the nipples, revelling in the way she was making Nikki moan with pleasure. “Oh, Jesus Christ! Nikki…!” she gasped.

 

“I haven’t done anything yet,” she laughed as she drew back. “But I think I’m falling in love with you, Helen Stewart,” she said softly.

 

“Nikki, you don’t understand,” Helen said anxiously. “Look.” she nodded towards the window. Nikki turned her head. The blue flashing lights of a police car were clearly reflected.

 

“Shit!” she muttered. She climbed from the bed and went to the window. “The place is swarming with cops.” She turned and looked at Helen, a stricken look on her face. “I’ve got to get out of here!”

 

Helen was at her side in an instant. “No, Nikki! You can’t make a run for it. They might be armed!”

 

She grabbed hold of Helen’s shoulders. “But they’ll take me back and what about you? They may arrest you for harbouring an escaped criminal.”

 

“I’ll take my chances but I’d rather see you in prison than hunted down like an animal!” she replied vehemently. “I think I love you too.”

 

Nikki smiled and gave a relieved sigh. “For you, I’ll go back but let me do all the talking. I’ll get you out of this mess, one way or the other.”

 

Helen nodded. “Go and get dressed but first…” She slid her arms around Nikki’s waist and reached up and kissed her urgently. She felt her tremble as she caressed her naked back.

 

“How can I leave you when I love you so much?” Nikki asked softly, as they drew apart.

 

“It won’t be for long, Nikki. I’m going to get you out of there,” she promised. “I’ll find out the truth. If Monica did it, I’ll try and get her to go to the police.” They heard hammering on the front door. “Go on, go and get ready,” Helen said gently. After Nikki had gone into the bathroom, she dragged on her jeans and sweater then unlocked the bedroom door.

 

Outside, Monica was standing at the top of the stairs, a frightened look on her face. “Everything is going to be OK, Monica,” Helen told her calmly. “Go and let them in.” She followed the older woman downstairs and stood by as she unlocked the front door.

 

“I’m DS Fox and this is DI Carter,” a female voice announced. “We have reason to believe there is an escaped prisoner in the house.”

 

“You’d better come in,” Monica said nervously.

 

The two officers entered. DS Fox was a thin, po-faced woman of indeterminate age and her companion, a rotund man in his early fifties. Accompanying them were half a dozen uniformed officers, who were dispatched to various parts of the house by a click and a point of Fox’s fingers.

 

“Do you have a warrant to search the house?” Helen demanded.

 

Fox turned and looked at her as if only just realising she was there. “And you are, miss?”

 

“Miss Stewart is a family friend,” Monica replied before Helen had time to open her mouth. “What makes you think Nikki…Miss Wade is here?”

 

“We had an anonymous tip-off,” Fox informed her.

 

“Well, I can assure you, you’re making a big mistake,” Monica said confidently. “Neither of us have seen Miss Wade. Isn’t that right, Helen?”

 

“Right,” Helen murmured. Where the hell was Nikki? She said she was coming right down. She watched as one by one the uniformed officers returned all shaking their heads.

 

“We’re sorry to have disturbed you, ladies,” Carter spoke for the first time. “We’ll get out of your hair and let you get back to bed. Obviously, if you see Miss Wade, you’ll let us know.”

 

“Obviously.” Helen looked at him smugly then glared defiantly at DS Fox.

 

“I wonder who told the police Nikki was here?” Monica mused, as she closed and securely locked the door.

 

“I wonder? I’m going back up, Monica,” she said hurriedly before the older woman started asking awkward questions. “‘Night.” She went upstairs and locked the bedroom door behind her. Instead of giving herself up, Nikki must have gone back out the way she had come in. She crossed to the window and looked out into the night. The net was closing in on Nikki and it was only a matter of time before she was caught but the next time she might not be so lucky.

 

In a deserted barn a few miles down the road, Nikki lay down under a blanket of musty straw. She had promised Helen she would turn herself in but she had to know the truth about what happened to Trish. Helen was right, she didn’t know for sure Monica had killed her but she sure as hell was going to find out! She had more reason than ever now to clear her name. A picture of Helen’s beautiful face sprang into her mind and she smiled contentedly as sleep claimed her. 

 

 

On to Chapter 8

 

Back to Home Page

    

 

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1