Chapter 9
"I've already told you nothing is happening with him or anyone!" Vera repeated, she didn't know how many times she'd said it but Joan just didn't seem to hear her.
"I see how he looks at you, he always looks at you, comes near you, he wants you!" Joan threw back, she'd wound herself up now, not liking the way a certain Mr Fletcher came near her deputy, looked at her, she knew they'd some history which probably didn't help matters in the mind of Ferguson.
Vera shook her head and took a deep breath.
How many times have I told her.
I've said it so many times in the space of this conversation.
"Be that as it may I don't really care what he wants, I'm not interested!" now she was getting more wound up, frustrated at Joan not actually listening to her, let alone believing her, so here she was having a heated argument after hours in the governor's office.
"You might be, he might tempt you, win you round or win you back somehow, get you back!".
"Stop it Joan, just stop it!".
Joan shook her head, her mind whirring with the thoughts of Vera being snatched back by Fletcher or anyone else for that matter.
"No I won't!".
"You will, you'll stop it right now, there's no need for all this!".
Another shake of the head from the dark haired woman, eyes fixed on Vera, nostrils flared.
"There is, he'll tempt you, he shouldn't be that near to you, close to you like that, he should keep away from you, not look at you..." rambling the thoughts that were now in free flow through her head.
Furiously brushing the tears of frustration rolling down her cheeks Vera slammed her fist on the desk as hard as she could, causing Joan to quiet, looking down at the noise, then at the other woman.
"Stop it! Stop it!" she mumbled through her tears, her breathing uneven as she got more upset and angry, standing up from the chair, her eyes on Joan, as she continued.
"I can't stand it anymore, just stop. I've told you Joan that there is nothing between me and him and do you want to know why that is, it's because I want you, not him, not anyone else in this prison or out of this prison, not anyone else on this bloody planet!! Are you bloody listening to me! Who do I want to spend my time with, you! Who does things to my stomach when I'm around them that no one has ever done, you! Who makes me feel safe, the safest I've ever felt in my life, you! Who do I want, you!! If you've not gotten that into that head of yours by now after what we've experienced so far together in the short time we've been going out for dinner and our other times together, or how I've been around you and what I've said to you then god damn it Joan I'm out of ideas! So sod you if you want to think of how I somehow in your mind want Mr Fletcher! No not sod you, fuck you Joan!!" grabbing her bag from the floor and opening the door, dashing out and down the corridor, slamming it hard behind her, a whimper escaping her that Joan heard before she was out of sight.
Dumbstruck Joan stood in her office, stunned.
No one had ever spoken to her that way and with such passion.
Passion for her.
Especially not for her.
But she had.
Vera had.
She'd just stood in front of the woman herself and cried, shouted, tears of hurt and passion for Joan Ferguson.
Joan swallowed hard as the realisation started to hit her.
She'd not listened to the one person, the one woman who seemed willing to understand her, who did understand her, who listened to her, treated her well, cared for her.
She'd shouted over her, at her, not listened at all to her, not given a chance for the information she'd been told to actually to register in her brain.
Now here she was in the office on her own, Vera had left.
The one thing she'd dreaded, been afraid of.
She'd caused that.
No one else had ever said they wanted her, but she had.
She said she wanted no one else bar her.
And yet here she was alone.
Again, because she'd caused it.
She'd not listened.
Then that feeling started.
The feeling that had happened that night all them weeks ago when Vera had left the office, leaving her alone after doing some late night work, it was in the pit of her stomach but then started rising, a type of ache, but not like a tummy ache type ache that painkillers or the like could sort but a different kind, an empty kind of ache.
An ache that only her deputy seemed to be the one to stop.
Stop with her presence around the governor.
That presence that the older woman wanted now.
Needed now.
Craved now.
Slumping in her chair she put her head in her hands on the desk, replaying the events of the last few minutes over in her head, slamming her own fist against the desk, her jaw clenched tight.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" with each bang that echoed around the office.
"What are you doing you stupid woman, she wants you, are you listening to what she said, she wants you!" shouting at herself out loud to vent her frustration at not listening.
She wants you and you want her.
Now what to do to put this right.
Go after her?
Go to her house?
To her door?
Could she possibly put this right?
Yes.
She had to put this right. Needed to put it right!
Grabbing her phone, coat and car keys, she hurriedly made her way down to the front desk, signed out, got into her car and headed to Vera's.
The journey seemed much longer than she'd thought, maybe because now the nerves, yes nerves were kicking in, nerves at thinking she'd lost the woman she wanted, that she'd be shunned away from the doorstep of the house she wanted to go in.
Pulling up outside she turned off the engine, looking at her appearance in the rear view mirror.
Come on Joan, you've caused this and now you need to sort it out.
One more look in the mirror and she was out of the car and walking up to the front door, pausing before knocking.
With no answer the first time she tried again.
Please be in, please be in.
Please answer.
Moving closer to the door she strained to listen to any movement inside the house, raising her fist to knock again it was cut short as she heard the latch click and the door open, Vera on the other side, the sight being enough to make the taller woman's heart start thumping in her chest, this being made worse as she saw the redness around her eyes, obvious evidence that she'd been crying and crying a lot.
Vera looked up to the woman on her doorstop.
"What?".
Now's your chance to sort this out.
Look at her, she's obviously been crying a lot for her eyes to be that red, tears caused by you.
You Joan, no one else.
And there's only you who can put it right, make up or at least try to make up for those tears.