The Technicalities
Bridget looked at the clock in her office. It was nearly five and she was done for the day. She lingered around, which she had been doing more and more of since Franky had left. She contemplated whether to cook something for dinner.
Cooking. Could she be bothered? Franky living with Bridget had meant that Bridget rarely had to think about dinner – being a domain that Franky had taken charge of, both given her natural flair in the kitchen but it was also a way for Franky to feel like she was contributing. Not that Bridget expected or sought that from Franky, but she knew that it was important for her.
Cooking for just herself had never seemed tedious in the past. But it now did. Just like coming home to an empty house had never seemed lonely, but it now did.
As Bridget sat, thumb under her chin and index finger resting on her lips, which were parted slightly, she sighed. Franky had changed her life. But she was giving here the space that she needed. Which their relationship both needed. Bridget knew this, it didn’t make the situation any easier or more livable.
Bridget had tried to convince herself that it wasn’t that much different to them living together. They still spent a considerable amount of time together, but in reality it just wasn’t the same.
They were no longer sharing a home together. Before, when they would go about their own thing during the day, their paths would inevitably cross each night. That when Bridget felt worn down or drained, she knew that Franky would be there when she got home; and if not, for dinner; and if not, after dinner; or if not - eventually in bed. Bridget knew that she would finish each day, lying next to Franky. Bridget missed this quiet reassurance. Now, it was different.
As Bridget sat back in her chair, in a semi slouch, neck slightly stretched so her gaze extended to the ceiling, she thought of Franky. God she just wanted to see her, to be held by her and to hold her, to smell her, to feel the familiar firm pull of Franky’s hand at the nape of her neck as Franky drew her in for a kiss.
She smiled as she felt a flutter to her stomach and that indescribable feeling of attraction from within. As she shook her head slowly, she marveled at just how important Franky was to her and her life.
Franky had only recently started working at Legal Relief and one of the other paralegals in Franky’s team had asked her along to a session at her cross fit box – which was tonight.
Bridget remembered Franky asking her what is was… being something that had gained popularity whilst Franky was on the inside, it was all new to Franky. Not ever having been to a session, Bridget thought that she had done a bad job at explaining it... which made Franky all the more intrigued to go along. Bridget also knew Franky needed to make friends independent of her and that working out always good for Franky. But why did it have to be tonight?
Wentworth continued to drain Bridget – more so than in the past. Working with a prisoner with such psychopathy as Ferguson was certainly challenging. But the challenge for Bridget had more complexities, more layers. Bridget had to summon every ounce of her being not to react to this woman the prisoners referred to as the Freak.
She knew too much about Bridget, which really affected her. Infiltrated her. Got under Bridget’s skin and made it crawl. How she found out about Franky and Bridget was beyond her. Granted, when Ferguson was in protection, it could have been a fortuitous comment made about being able to smell Franky, an attempt to get a reaction from Bridget. As much as it sickened her to hear those breathy words come out of Ferguson’s mouth, at that point she could dismiss it as Ferguson simply playing mind games.
But it was the second time. “How the fuck did she know? ”wondered Bridget.
Maybe just a guess … but how would she know that Franky had moved out.
“Where’s Franky??”. The words played on her mind, reverberated like a rhetoric question.
As Bridget rubbed for forefingers against her thumb as she contemplated whether Ferguson was bluffing her to get a confirmation out of her reaction. She thought about whether Ferguson had a contact on the outside. Anything was possible. But how would the information flow through to her?? Bridget wondered, slightly irritated that her job included thinking about such possibilities.
Bridget was already suspicious of Linda Miles, as she thought back to that day Vera had called a staff meeting after learning of Ferguson’s ganging. All of the officers denied knowing anything about it – one of them must have been lying. She remembered the awkward look on Ms Miles’ face… almost too quick to deny… tense body language…. An uncomfortableness about her. But Bridget didn’t have any more than that to go on. She couldn’t exactly go to Vera with a random hunch, not when she was still trying to rebuild her relationship and credibility with Vera.
And how had she known about Bridget’s rape. Something so personal, so raw and so devastating to Bridget. Many of her friends didn’t even know about it. Bridget’s breathing paused as she tilted her head to the side to rub a spot at the back of her neck. Franky didn’t even know. Bridget cursed herself for firing back at Ferguson that night, particularly because it seemed to have the desired effect – she played right into Ferguson’s hands.
Ordinarily, she would never have suggested that anyone staged their own attack – whether Bridget believed it or not. But for as long as Ferguson continued to deny the attack, Bridget continued to challenge her about it. Dealing with a psychopath called for entirely different measures than when treating another patient.
But that was the thing…. Ferguson was not officially on her docket as a patient. It frustrated the hell out of Bridget in one respect – her assessment having been done at Sinclair and something clearly didn’t add up. Bridget paused… she still hadn’t received the notes she had requested from Ferguson’s treating psychiatrist which had led to her being released to Wentworth. She grabbed a pen and made a note on her post it note and stuck it next to her keyboard to follow up tomorrow.
Ferguson was a master at playing people, she was starting to think that perhaps her treating psychiatrist had fallen victim to another one of her manipulative schemes as Bridget wondered what game Ferguson had played to get to her end game. Ferguson had to win - at whatever she played.
Bridget thought back to the day that she was forced to resign. “It will hurt you”… “those close to you”. It was those latter four words which had sent Bridget’s pulse racing, she remembered the feeling of fear rising in her chest like it was yesterday. Franky. It would hurt Franky.
She recalled how this threat had hit her like a freight train. Her hands were tied. She could not let Ferguson jeopardize Franky’s parole. She was so close. She needed Franky to be ok.
A wry smile now formed on Bridget’s lips she as remembered how panic stricken she had been and being a bit taken aback by her own response. She had known that she had feelings for Franky, which she had all but admitted to Franky in the kitchen, but it was the threat of Franky losing everything that she had worked for, which made her realize just how intense these feelings were; that she was in love with Franky Doyle.
Ferguson must have known about the two of them. After all, why would an experienced and successful psychologist such as Bridget simply capitulate and do as she wished? It was a strong card to play against Bridget.
And again, now, Bridget was faced with a similar fear. She reassured herself that Franky’s relationship with her did not technically constitute a breach of Franky’s parole - at least on the face of it.
But she wondered; to what extent was the parole board’s decision to grant Franky parole, a reviewable decision. Her feet, crossed underneath her at her desk tapped against each other in slight agitation that Ferguson seemed to have this power over her.
Surely they would not take freedom away from Franky now.
Maybe, she thought as she exhaled slowly through pursed lips… just maybe when they find out that the report of her treating psychologist was written by someone who was in love with Franky, who had lost her job for Franky, who was now in a relationship with Franky and whose whole life was now Franky. Maybe they just would.
Even Bridget knew that she would have a hard time convincing anyone that she had no more than a professional interest in Franky being granted parole.
Bridget had contemplated the possibility of coming clean with the Psychology Board, but from what she had read; there really was no grey area. She had also considered getting some advice from a close friend Saskia, a retired District Court judge who sat on the Psychology Board for ten years and had handed down judgments against wayward psychologists for lesser things.
As Bridget reached down into her bottom draw for her phone to call Saskia, she felt a dull ache in her head. Uggh. A migraine was all she needed right now.
As she pulled the phone out and the screen lit up, she felt a little flutter in her stomach as she saw she had a message from Franky. She swiped to open it as she read:-
“Gidge, Still going to X Fit but Claire has to help her sister move something straight after so we aren’t going for dinner now. OK if I come over on the way, will probs be just after 7 x ?”
Bridget was filled with a heady rush and smiling, wrote back straight away:
“Sure baby, I’ll get dinner sorted.”
Bridget’s mood instantly lifted as she sent another message “I can’t wait to see you x G”.
As Bridget’s mind snapped back to the reason she was looking for her mobile in the first place, she searched for Saskia’s number. She sat, with the contact displayed. She hesitated, almost daring herself to dial. “Just fucking call her”, Bridget thought to herself and her finger pressed the call icon.
She waited until eventually voicemail picked up. Bridget again hesitated and almost left it too long before she decided to leave a short message, asking Saskia to call her back.
As she hung up, she instantly regretted leaving the message. Saskia was a dear friend of hers, but things were very black and white is Saskia’s world. Bridget and her hadn’t seen eye to eye on many things over the years, but both being intelligent and strong women, each had accepted each others’ differences and had moved on.
She was pretty sure Saskia wouldn’t see much of the grey that Bridget had lived whilst Franky was in Wentworth and the even greater shades of grey since Franky had been free.
Bridget's mind then turned to her defence offered to Vera after she had hauled Bridget into the kitchen that day “Nothing has happened between Franky Doyle and I”, technically correct, she hadn’t lied to Vera. But had she lied by omission.
Nothing had happened, but everything had happened.
Just moments before, she had been eye to eye with Franky in the library, so close she could hear Franky’s breath and she was sure that Franky could hear her hammering heart. As soon as the words “do you miss me” had escaped Franky’s mouth, Bridget had wanted to take her, to hold her, to kiss her. To tell her that she missed her, that she thought of her, that she was everything to her. Averting her gaze was all she could do to try to stop what was engulfing her thoughts, obscuring her judgment and her ability to be rational.
Bridget remembered the feeling of irony in her statement to Vera… the Nothing that had happened; was everything to Bridget.
Bridget then thought back to the moment in Vera’s office when Vera had hurled the accusatory statement at Bridget as she spat venom at the woman whom she considered her friend: “You’re having a relationship with Franky Doyle”.
Again Bridget had been standing opposite Vera, again facing the prospect of losing her job and again, she had offered a defence that was technically correct, but again was it a lie by omission. Yes, their physical relationship hasn’t started until Franky left Wentworth but emotionally, Bridget was involved; was invested long before that.
Whilst Vera would never admit it, Bridget could see how hurt Vera had been by her discovery. Whilst their friendship was not completely in tatters, it was somewhat still in a precarious position. Bridget could sense Vera had put her guard up again, but with good reason Bridget thought, and not unexpected for someone as vulnerable as Vera.
Just after seven, Franky let herself into Bridget’s house as she struggled in the door carrying her work bag and a change of clothes. After dropping her keys for what Bridget heard was the second or third time, she went to the door to help Franky.
“My fuckin arms are shaking Gidge” Franky said as she met Bridget at the door, “and my arms legs feel like jelly” she added as she smiled at Bridget whilst she struggled through the door.
“Well hi there sweaty!” Bridget laughed as she shut the door behind Franky. Franky dropped her things just by the door - something which had initially annoyed Bridget when they first moved in together, but which she had now let go of – and actually missed. Franky pulled Bridget in towards her, laughing as she kissed her hello.
Bridget could taste the salty sweat on Franky’s face as Franky kissed her.
“Fuck I’ve missed ya Gidge” Franky said as she held Bridget’s arms. Bridget felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach.
“It’s only been like a few days… but it felt like fuckin’ forever”. Bridget smiled, warm inside that Franky had the exact same thought that she had earlier.
Bridget felt damp and looked down and saw that wherever she had been pressed up against Franky, had now left damp sweat marks on her top.
Franky spied the same thing “Oops, yeah Gidge sorry, I’m a bit sweaty… there are some crazy mother fuckers at that cross fit place” Franky said.
“I mean I worked out in prison and all and used to push myself pretty hard but shit… these people are full on” Bridget couldn’t help but smile at Franky. As they walked towards the kitchen, Franky turned and went back towards the door
“Gidge”, she called out, slightly muffled as she was bent over looking for something in her work bag.
“Yes my darling” Bridget responded, still amused that Franky called her that – and she thought of the first time she had done so in the library.
“I’ve gotta fill in this form for work about conflict of interest. Everyone who works there has to do one, but I’mmm aa kindda not sure what to do with a few questions” Franky said as she put the bundle down on the table.
“I’ll have a look for you” Bridget responded casually, “Why don’t you go and have a shower. We can chat about it over dinner”.
“Ohhhh” Franky said as she came up behind Bridget, wrapping her arms around her waist.
“What are we having?” said Franky as she pretended to look around the kitchen, knowing full well that Bridget would have ordered in.
“Take away” Bridget laughed. “I got your favourite”
“Thai from Sok’s??” Franky asked excitedly
“Yes”, Bridget responded.
“Ohh delicious” Franky said as she licked her lips playfully and headed to the shower.
Bridget poured herself a glass of wine and started thumbing through the form. She saw that Franky had completed most of it, but then noticed a tag next to one question a few pages in.
She turned to the page and read the question out in her head:
“Do you have any immediate family members or are you in a close personal relationship either now or in the previous 12 months with any person/s who are employees the following organisations”
Simple enough question, Bridget thought. She scanned the list that followed, as she took a sip of wine, until she felt her heart stop when she read the words “Corrections Victoria”.
Bridget swallowed and the words “FUCK” escaped from her mouth. She put the glass down beside her on the table, took a breath and slowly exhaled. She could feel that ache in the back of her neck that was threatening to become a migraine start to rear its ugly head again.
Franky couldn’t lie. She was going to have to tick “Corrections Victoria”. But what flags would that raise? Lots, given it was no secret to anyone at Legal Relief that Franky had served a term in Wentworth and had recently been released. That would no doubt lead to the question of who. Who was Franky Doyle, the paralegal in a relationship with. Who was the employee. It wouldn’t take much to join the dots.
Bridget understood why it was necessary for Legal Relief to under the background conflict of interest check. Whilst extremely unlikely that Bridget would be involved in providing any evaluation for a matter that Franky was involved with, they had an obligation to ensure transparency and objectivity.
The doorbell rang, snapping Bridget out of her thought process that was careering at 50 miles at hour. She went to the door to collect their food.
As Franky wandered towards the kitchen, hair wet from the shower, face still flushed from her workout, she spied the paperwork, which had moved from where she had placed it. Her eyes met Bridget’s.
“Did ya have a look?” she asked expectantly, eyebrows raised and before Bridget could respond added “And.. are we fucked?”. Franky got it. Completely.
“Well I wouldn’t say WE are fucked”, Bridget responded as she started unpacking their dinner. Franky made a face, waiting for Bridget to continue.. “More like I am fucked” Bridget added.
“Uh Uh Uh” Franky quipped back, “don’t give me any of that shit. WE are in this together and WE will figure it out”.
Franky walked over and took Bridget’s face in her hands. How the tables had turned thought Bridget.
“I dunno how the fuck we will… but we will”, Franky tried to reassure Bridget. Bridget’s face must have given away how she was feeling.
“Gidge…” Franky said, her voice full of love, of care and strength “It’ll be ok” as she pulled Bridget towards her for a long and slow kiss.
After dinner as they sat together on the couch, Bridget leaning back into Franky so that her back was resting against Franky’s chest, Bridget updated Franky on the goings on at Wentworth. Franky asked how the girls were; Bridget’s mood lightened as she told Franky of the preparation that went into Boomer’s conjugal, which had Franky in stitches. Bridget had heard many of the women prisoners talk about it and Bridget had caught the tail end of Boomer’s dance down the hallway.
“Ahhh Boom Booms…” Franky laughed.
“You know all she has wanted to do for the past fuckin’ year is have a baby?”.
Bridget’s eyes widened as she sat forward a bit to glance back at Franky
“Really…. I’ll just pretend you didn’t tell me that. Vera is going to have her work cut out for her if that happens” Bridget responded.
“Ahh vinegar tits” Franky said, as Bridget let out a disapproving sigh.
“Sorry Gidget.. I know.. old habits die hard. Vera, how is she doing….I bet she is needing all the help she can get from you trying to control the Freak”.
“Yeah.. you could say that. Although neither of us are doing a great job at that at the moment”.
“Well I bet she is regretting nearly getting rid of you the other day. She needs you in there Gidge”.
“Well maybe she does.. but she may have to live without me again”.
At that minute. Franky sat upright, also causing Bridget, who was leaning on her, to sit upright.
“Remember when they reemployed you Gidge… after you left to save my ass?.” Franky asked
“Mmmm” Bridget responded not knowing where Franky was going with this.
“Well don’t you remember, they made you sign all new stuff – terms of engagement, superannuation forms, insurance yada yada”.
“yes vaguely”, Bridget said without giving it much thought “but I was reemployed in the same position”.
“Yah Gidge, but…” Franky started to talk excitedly as if her mouth was struggling to keep up the pace that her brain was thinking.
“..don’t you remember there was a whole drama ‘coz they wanted to sign you on as something different – not an employee. Do ya remember??” Franky looked at Bridget, prompting her
“it was something to do with funding cuts or redirection of resources”.. Franky trailed off.
Bridget started to remember. “That’s right… they employed me through my private practice as a consultant”.
Bridget was still puzzled, her usually sharp mind feeling like it was struggling to process whatever Franky was thinking – and she was a million miles ahead of Bridget.
“Well Gidge… I told you we would figure it out”, Franky was beaming back at her. She always knew that Franky was smart and had a quick mind, but sometimes she ran rings around Bridget – especially when it was analysis of technicalities. But sometimes it was nice to let Franky take control. Althoug Bridget still didn’t know what Franky was onto.
“Ok, legal eagle.. you’ll have to step me through it”, Bridget laughed.
“So…… your not an employee.” Franky beamed… “Of Corrections Victoria”, she added.
“When they reemployed you, you didn’t sign a contract as an employee but a Terms of Engagement as a Consultant … so you consult to them, you aren’t employed by them. I remember looking up the difference at the time”. Franky looked at Bridget excitedly.
Bridget had to hand it to Franky.
“So… I don’t have to tick that box.. on the form” Franky said triumphantly.
Relieved, Bridget threw her head back to look at the ceiling. Thank fucking god, she thought. At least that put out that fire – for the moment. But again, saved by a technicality.
“So ey Gidge… what do you think of that??, Told ya it would be ok” Franky flashed her trademark smile.
“I think”, Bridget said as she turned around to straddle Franky and face her.
“That you…” Bridget paused to kiss her.
“are a fucking genius” she added as she pulled Franky’s face to hers.
“Not bad eh, pretty alright even if I do say so myself” Franky responded.
Bridget pulled Franky towards her and her breath hitched as Franky grabbed the back of neck, “You are better than alright Franky Doyle” Bridget said in a half whisper.
“And I love you” Bridget said the silent words in her head. She wanted to say it, wanted to tell her. Wanted her to know that the way she loved Franky, was a way that she had loved no other woman before.
But not here. Not yet… she thought to herself..
Not just yet.