Strangeness at Fellows - Part 6

by:

Nick B

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Rating: R	Add Review   Read Reviews, Last Review 05/14/07 (2)	Added: 05/14/2007
Complete: yes
Synopsis:	Stuck in Brighton, knowing that the baddies are after them and worse, Denise hatches a plan...
Categories:	In Hiding  Magical Transformations  Stuck
Keywords:

Part VI

The Plan

Denise dressed and quickly scribbled a note for Stephanie who was gently snoring away, tucked soundly in bed. She grabbed her jacket and slipped out of the room, leaving a "Do not disturb" sign on the door.

Downstairs at the front desk, the Jimmy Somerville look-alike had been replaced by someone else far less surly.

"Is there an internet café nearby?" she asked.

"It's not really near, but there's one in Sydney Street. Do you know where that is?"

"I think so. Is it just down from the station?"

"That's the kiddie. If not, I'm sure I can think of something else," he said, giving her a wink.

Denise thanked him and left taking St. James' Street, across the Old Steine to North Street. Sydney Street was at the end of one of the roads on the right.

It took about half an hour, but she made it and was surprised that even on a Sunday morning, there was still a lot of life in the town. She had visited it quite regularly as a child and whilst so much had changed, there was still so much that hadn't. Certainly, she remembered it well enough to find her way around.

Sydney Street was much quieter than the area around North Street and she scanned the row of shops, most of which were shut, for somewhere that looked like it would fit the bill.

Needless to say, it was as it just had to be, at the other end.

It took a couple of hours to find what she was looking for and cost a small fortune to print it (that's a small fortune in real terms, not comparing it to the small fortune she spent on clothes. That was a bigger small fortune).

It felt to Stephanie that Denise had been gone for hours and as soon as she heard the door open, she had flung herself at Denise and was sobbing tears of joy, hugging her tight enough to stop blood flow.

"You had me so worried," she said. "I know you left the note, but I had no idea where you'd gone or what you were going to do. Where were you anyway?"

"I went to find some things out," she simply replied.

"What things?"

"Look, shove that in your gob and shut up a minute," she said, throwing a chocolate bar to her.

"Ooh, chocolate," said Stephanie and ripped the wrapper off.

Humming a catchy refrain, Denise laid out the printed pages and showed them to Stephanie.

"See?" she said proudly.

"No. What am I looking at?"

"Old Man Smart. That's him there," she said, poking the page with her finger. "He's the one running Fellows while his dad's at his holiday home in Barbados."

"What does that prove? It doesn't tell us what's going on, does it?"

"Look closely. I had to blow that image up a bit, but I'm sure that's someone we both know."

"Fuck! That's Paul."

"That's right."

"So what does that prove?"

"It proves that they know one another. It doesn't prove anything about the drugs or the killings, but it does prove that they are not strangers."

"Drugs? Killings?" said Stephanie amazed.

Denise filled Stephanie in on her idea.

"It all made sense when you said what you said about your brother. You said he was on the mend didn't you?"

"He was. He was doing really well and then he died."

"Why?"

"The police said it was an overdose."

"It probably was, but do you think he would have gone to that much trouble trying to clean his act up and get himself together just to blow it with one more fix?"

"No."

"Neither did I," she said smiling. "Then I thought about how they were going about keeping you in check. The threat to your parents and that clinched it."

"I don't follow."

"Suppose your brother wanted out," she said slowly. "And then suppose that he was more than just a user and a petty thief, at least as far as Paul and his business was concerned. With all that Andrew knew, do you think they just have let him walk away from all that? I mean, he would have known about Paul, about Smart and that would have been another of Paul's loose ends wouldn't it?"

"It makes sense," said Stephanie looking just a trifle wan and pale.

"I know. It frightened the life out of me too."

She sketched out the rest of the idea and the more she said it, the more she got the feeling that she was on the right track.

"I couldn't fathom why I was so important to them after I was witness to a bungled attempt at a robbery. I wasn't really even a witness. I saw men in balaclavas, so I don't even know who they were. I only heard the bit about Smart. That was all.

"So I factored in the arson attempt as well and still I couldn't see that in a business as big as Smart's, it was worth chasing us all over the place. That's where your brother came in. I kind of put him into the picture too and he didn't fit unless there was something to do with drugs that linked all three of them together.

"I knew it linked your brother to Paul, but I couldn't work out whether Paul was just hired help with business of his own on the side, you know, brought in to do specific jobs and the like; the nasty bits, or whether he was part of an established team. When I saw this press release, I realised that I was probably closer to the truth than I imagined."

"And you put that together from a few snippets of information?" asked Stephanie.

"Well that and an overactive imagination, yes."

"I have to say, that's quite impressive."

"Thank you."

"I suspect that this was just what Paul was afraid of."

"The native Americans say that you can't bury something forever, as given time it will always rise to the surface to be found. Someone would have got to it in the end anyway."

"Do you think we'll be able to convince the police of this?"

"I sincerely hope so. I don't fancy ending my life just yet or winding up as a crack whore."

"Crack whore?" asked Stephanie, somewhat startled.

"More of that imagination," said Denise with aplomb.

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Denise and Stephanie went to the station and the two of them boarded a train to go home.

"Don't you think it's a bit early to go home?" asked Stephanie.

"I have a hunch this will be all over soon. I think it's time to take what we know back to the police and let them deal with it."

"But Madam what's her face said not to trust the police."

"No, she said they were useless, but we can't deal with this on our own. They have the manpower to sort this out and make it right all ways round."

"I don't know. Perhaps we should stay a couple more days and wait until it all blows over."

"Look Steph. I can understand why you're nervous about going back, but we'll have to do it sooner or later. At least this way we have half a chance of getting away with our lives intact. I would imagine your parents might feel much the same way."

Neither of the girls were comfortable with going back into the lions den, whether it be sooner or later, but the train left the station and Denise felt that whatever the outcome, she wasn't prepared to keep on running, always having to look over her shoulder. It didn't seem right.

It was three hours later when they disembarked and both Stephanie and Denise were pleased that this would soon be all over.

"Good afternoon girls," said Paul.

"I had a feeling this would happen," said Denise.

"I had to. Don't you understand? He has my parents," said a once again tearful Stephanie.

Denise was grabbed roughly by both arms and pushed towards a waiting car. All the way, Stephanie was going on about her parents.

"Will you stop your bellyaching woman? You're starting to piss me off," grumbled Paul.

Stephanie sulked, but meanwhile, Denise sat quietly in the back between two goons, neither of whom she would like to have met in an alley in broad daylight, let alone a dark one.

Soon, the car pulled up outside a warehouse on the outskirts of town.

Denise was pushed in first, accompanied by the two goons. They were followed in by Paul and then there was a loud 'clack' as Paul switched on the power and several strip lights blinked into life.

The warehouse was huge and they made their way past stacked boxes, pallets of this and that and large machines to what looked like a small office at the rear.

"Mum, dad!" shouted Stephanie and ran to her parents, asking after them and telling them how she and Denise had been in Brighton.

"ENOUGH!" snarled Paul. "So!" he continued, turning to Denise. "You thought you could run did you?"

"It seemed preferable to being silenced."

"I can see where you get that idea, but at the end of the day, you're going to be silenced anyway. I don't like loose ends."

"Is that what you did with Steph's brother Andrew?"

"You see, that's where you all seem to think I'm just stupid and can't see when people are trying to outsmart me. He tried. Look where it got him! A one way ticket to the grave." he laughed a callous laugh while his cronies just stood silently, each holding one of Denise's arms.

"So I guessed right then? This is all just for a drug deal is it."

"Oh no. It wasn't just a drug deal. It was going to be the biggest of the century. Of course you put paid to that one didn't you?"

He walked across the floor and stood toe to toe with Denise.

"Have you any idea how much that cost us? HAVE YOU?"

"I presume it's in seven figures, maybe eight." she answered casually.

"Eleven - if you count those after the decimal point," he said.

"I guess it's all off now is it?"

"Oh no, you can't stop us that easily. We've got another shipment coming in tonight. You see, that's what happens when someone like me teams up with someone like Smart. He has the import licence and I have the acumen."

"It's not going to work, you know that don't you?"

"Why? Who's going to stop me?"

"I think the police may have something to do with it."

"Hah! They couldn't find their arses with a map," he snorted.

"I wouldn't be so sure," she said.

"Why? What have you done?"

"Me? What can I do?"

"Smart and I have put too much into this to fail now. Neither you nor the idiot police are going to stop this. Tie them up with the others. Smart will want to deal with this personally."

Paul and his men left them in the small office.

"What's this all about?" asked Grace, Stephanie's mother.

"Illegal drugs Mrs. Watkins. Smart has been importing it and Paul has been the distributor. Unfortunately I think Andrew may have got himself involved and was unable to get out in time."

Grace started to cry and Mr. Watkins, who looked as white as a sheet could do nothing to console her.

"See? I told you we were wrong to come back." sniffed Stephanie.

Denise said nothing. Her plan wasn't quite going according to how she'd envisaged it. Then the lights went out and Stephanie wailed as the darkness engulfed them all.

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They had no idea how long they'd been sitting tied together. All any of them could tell was that it felt like days, when they heard the large doors at the entrance being opened. Voices too far away to be heard distinctly came next and then the door to the office burst open. All four of them jumped and all of them let out a loud exclamation.

No-one could see who had come in as flashlights blinded them, but they were now surrounded.

There was a faint 'clack', the overhead lights started to blink on and the four of them could see that they were surrounded by armed police.

"Put those guns down and untie them," said a man as he strode purposefully into the office. "Denise," he said and she turned to face him.

"You took your time. I didn't think you were going to come."

"We needed to get them in the act of putting the merchandise onto British soil. Sorry about that. Still, all's well that ends well eh?"

Denise was too happy that all of this had come to an end to be too upset with the policeman and before too long, they were led blinking out into the daylight, escorted by various paramedics and police officers.

"You knew!" said Stephanie. She looked shocked and very annoyed that her friend had let her believe that they were walking back into a trap.

"Of course I did. I couldn't tell you because there was too much chance that you may have let the cat out of the bag."

"When?"

"While I was out. I got the information from the internet and emailed it across to the police here. I just needed to know that there was help on its way. There was no way we would have been able to pull it off on our own and once I knew that your parents had been involved, well that just sealed it."

"You could have told me."

"No I couldn't. I needed you to be as natural as possible so as not to attract any attention. They didn't know me, but they knew you and I'm fairly certain that Paul would have known something was amiss."

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It could all so easily have just ended there.

The police had got the bad guys and made a very impressive drugs bust; the hostages were freed, the answer to what had happened to Stephanie's brother was cleared up and the charges added to the growing list for Paul and Smart. What more could there be?

Well what about Denise?

...And Stephanie?

Did they get together?

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It turns out that they didn't, least not to begin with.

Fellows reopened the Saturday after the robbery and everyone was surprised that Denis wasn't present. Cynthia was promoted temporarily to supervisor - something she wasn't comfortable with and apart from the workload being higher, everything went as normal.

Denise phoned them on the Monday and explained that things had happened and that Denis wasn't going to be able to make it.

"Is he sick?" they asked.

"No, he's not sick, but he's really not himself right now."

The woman, a 'jobsworth', often found in HR positions, positions within the social security system or local government departments that require customer-facing skills such as hers, demanded that if Denis wasn't ill, he should come in and explain his absence for the Saturday.

Denise dressed casually in her favourite jeans, t-shirt and blouson and went into the store. She knew exactly where to go and informed the woman that she was there to see Ms. Sharpe.

Denis had never liked Ms. Sharpe. Her over made-up face and thin, permanently pursed lips suggested that she enjoyed pissing people off for the hell of it and her frequent comments of "it's more than my job's worth..." just got Denis's goat. Denise didn't expect that that would change although he or rather she had.

"Come!" called the voice from behind the office door.

Denise entered shoulders back and ready for anything this harridan could throw at her and full in the knowledge that her job was probably not hers anymore.

"Yes?" she said curtly, not looking up from the piece of paper before her.

"You wanted to see me?" Denise said amiably.

"And you are?" she responded, still not looking up.

Now this was likely to be difficult since, try as she might, up until now she had not been able to say the name Denis. She gave it a go.

"Robson, Den-Den-Denise Robson," she said and then thought "Oh fuck it! This is who I am lady, you deal with it."

"Denise? I don't know..." It was only the addition of an 'E' that changed Denis's name from the masculine to the feminine after all and well, as much of a bitch as this woman was she wasn't stupid, despite the writing on the toilet walls. "Shouldn't that be...?" she looked up for the first time to see not Denis, but Denise.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Denise Robson," said Denise. "I just said that."

"You're a..."

"Yes. I'm fully aware of what I am. I used to be the man you were expecting and I don't expect you to believe a word, but I am now Denise. Now, about that absence. I told you on the phone that I wasn't feeling myself and you chose not to believe me. Does this answer your questions?" she asked standing before the woman, holding her blouson open and showing off her respectably-proportioned breasts.

"I-I-I don't know what to say."

"I didn't think you would. I didn't either when I first discovered this, but like it or not, I'm now Denise. I've had a really shitty weekend and frankly I don't give a poop about you or your jobsworth attitude, I need to take some time off."

"I see," said Ms. Sharpe, collecting herself, though still not sure what to make of the woman before her. "Will you be returning to work after your absence Denis, sorry Denise?" she asked, drawing 'Denise' out like a piece of bubblegum with a thin lipped 'smile'.

"I don't like your attitude, madam and unless you want a sexual harassment charge brought, I suggest you climb down off that pedestal you've mistakenly put yourself on and keep a civil tongue in your head.

"Well! I've never been so insulted." she spluttered.

"And neither have I. You have no right to judge and you certainly have no right to treat me or anyone else that way. If you want insults, go read the writing in the toilets, there's plenty there. In the meantime, I would be grateful if you would make the necessary changes to the paperwork with regards to my name and gender. If you need any further confirmation of that, I will see my doctor and get him to furnish you with the necessary documents."

Denise, flushed with the outburst of anger, however well-controlled it may have been, left the office.

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It didn't take long for the case to go to trial and during the hearings there was little time for anything else. The relationship between Denise and Stephanie had changed and Denise wished it hadn't.

Despite the fact that Steph was almost permanently distracted by what was happening in her life and gave Denise the impression that she wasn't trustworthy, she felt that Steph's intentions were honourable and as misguided as she may have been; her heart was in the right place. Denise didn't stop loving her, even though the feelings weren't reciprocated.

The police held both girls under protective custody, though they were kept separate and whilst one would have thought that it was an open and shut case, what with the baddies being caught red handed and all, Smart had some pretty clever and expensive lawyers working in his and Paul's defence and there were fears that the witnesses would be compromised - hence the protective custody.

As the trial plodded slowly on, Denise's feelings for Stephanie deepened - absence making the heart grow fonder and all that. She had a distinct feeling of loss at being separated from her friend after all they had been through and the refusal to allow contact between them hurt her deeply.

Nevertheless, the wheels of justice ground on inexorably and eventually the final outcome was reached.

Stephanie was exonerated for her part in passing on information since firstly, there were mitigating circumstances surrounding the safety of her parents and secondly, what she did ultimately led to the capture and successful prosecution of Edward John Smart, Paul Phillips and a number of lesser associates. She was however 'let go' by the force.

They were charged and sent down for amongst other things: Drug trafficking, importing Class 'A' substances with intent to distribute, murder, kidnapping, attempted murder, embezzlement and a list of other offences that would very nearly be the same length as this account. Needless to say, it's unlikely that either Paul or Smart would see the light of day on the outside of a prison again.

Denise tried to keep herself to herself after the trial and Stephanie was not receptive to her calls, but being the prosecution's star witness and what amounts to the linchpin in the case, for sometime after her life wasn't really her own anyway.

Although pleased that it was all over, the knowledge that she had nothing to move on to coupled with the fact that Stephanie was no longer part of her life saddened Denise. She constantly wondered whether she would have been better off listening to that inner voice on that fateful Thursday evening and leaving things as they were; remaining the boring but ultimately safe Denis.

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Denise was sitting in her kitchen in a melancholy mood. She felt more alone now than she had ever done and whilst she was more comfortable as she now was, it didn't alter the fact that she still had no-one close.

She knew that relationships born out of stressful situations rarely lasted but she would have liked to have tried to cultivate at least a friendship between her and Stephanie and wasn't entirely convinced that Steph, despite her protestations, wasn't more into her in the first place. She felt that Steph's preoccupation with the situation was what put their relationship on hold or rather prevented it from going anywhere.

She was startled back into life when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Is that Miss Robson? Denise Robson?"

"It is."

"My name's Fuller and I work for Mr. James Smart. He has asked me to arrange a meeting between you both this afternoon, if you're available."

Denise was flabbergasted. She'd just been instrumental in putting his son in prison probably for the rest of his natural life and he wanted a meeting?

Of course she agreed and went immediately into overdrive fussing (as she did nowadays) in the bath, out of the bath, before the mirror and generally for good measure.

She still hadn't got used to the idea of makeup and decided against it which meant that she was ready long before a large black Mercedes arrived outside her front door right on time.

The driver got out and opened the rear door for her and she stepped in.

Inside sat an older man, not unlike a certain Mr. Heffner.

"I'm so pleased you could make it Miss Robson," he said leaning forward and extending his hand. Denise took it and shook it warmly, but was still more than a little perturbed about what the meeting was in aid of.

"I suspect you're a little confused as to why I would want to meet with you." he stated urbanely. "I understand how you must feel, but let me put your mind at rest. That imbecile you helped to put behind bars may well have carried my name, but he was definitely no son of mine."

"He wasn't?"

"No. In fact I never wanted to have anything to do with him, but my second wife engineered it as part of the divorce settlement. I took him on and well, had it not been for your quick thinking, I doubt very much whether I would have a business left to run."

"It wasn't all my doing."

"No, but you did enough and just at the right time."

They were driven to an upmarket restaurant on the outskirts of town and together had a wonderful meal before he dropped the bombshell.

"I'd like to you come and work for me."

"But I already do."

"You do? Where?"

"I was the manager of the men's and ladies departments at your store in town. I just happened to be there when those thieves broke in and started unloading the electrical department into their truck. I phoned the police and the next thing I knew, I was mixed up in a whole hornets nest of cops and robbers."

"My! You have been busy."

"I know. Then once that was all over, I had to take some time off for the trial and I don't know whether I'm going to get my job back."

"I can tell you now that you're not."

"You mean I'm fired?"

"No. As I said before, I want you working for me. I'll come straight to the point. I know who you are and what you have done and anyone who is prepared to put their life on the line for something deserves something in return. I want you to take over from my step-son."

"Phew! That's a big jump."

"You can clearly think things through, you have an ability to function under pressure and I can't think of a person who has been more loyal. What do you say?"

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Denise was still buzzing long after she got home and was prone to fits of the giggles for no apparent reason for days after that. She was happy, but the hole that Stephanie filled was still causing her heart to ache.

It had been weeks since she had last spoken to Stephanie and she needed to know what had happened to her, why she refused to answer her calls and why they weren't still friends. She felt that regardless of her orientation, there was still a friendship there and she would rather have a friend than a reluctant girlfriend.

She tried the phone again, but there was no reply. She was upset that the only person she wanted to give her news to wasn't there to take it and even if she had been, so much had happened that she wasn't sure what kind of a reception she would get anyway.

She decided to go out and drown herself in shopping. She had new clothes to buy after all; her new job would entail having to go back to wearing suits and stuff. Mind you, perhaps this time, she could wear something that was a little more exciting than her previous 'suits' and you would be hard pressed to call them 'exciting' under any circumstances.

She was looking in the window of one shop, when in the reflection, she saw someone she was sure she knew.

"Steph?" she called. The woman turned round and looked at her. The hair was longer and didn't look as vibrant as it had and the face seemed to have aged somewhat, but it was definitely her. Immediately the recognition set in, Denise's stomach started to do somersaults and she knew that nothing she felt for Stephanie in the past had diminished.

"Denise?"

It was a subdued meeting. Like neither of them knew whether the other was pleased to see them or not, like they were scared of what they thought might happen.

"It's really good to see you. I didn't think I was going to see you again. How have you been keeping?" asked Denise.

"Okay I suppose. It's been a bit difficult since the trial, mum and dad didn't take the ordeal well."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"How about you? You look as though you're doing alright."

"I suppose. It's not the same though. I lost someone very dear to me after that debacle was all over and I regret very much not having made more of an effort."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I thought she blamed me for not trusting her and getting her parents involved in some very nasty business and I don't blame her for thinking that way. A lot happened and someone needed to take charge and I think that having done so, I may have ruined a really good friendship."

They stood looking at one another for a few moments, before Denise could stand it no longer. She engulfed the rather startled-looking woman and hugged her tight.

"I've really missed you," she whispered into her ear. "Please don't tell me you don't want to see me anymore."

A single tear stood in the corners of Stephanie's eyes when Denise let her go, hoping that her plea would not go unanswered,

"I couldn't. I've had a hard time admitting it, but I've missed you too. I know things have moved on, you know, water under the bridge as they say, but no, I wouldn't like it if I couldn't see you again."

"Would you like a coffee? I understand there's a little Italian restaurant not far from here that does really good cappuccinos."

"I think I'd like that," said Stephanie and the two women walked off towards the eastern side of town. They had a lot to catch up on and the conversation had started almost immediately.

As they walked on leaving the shop behind them, Stephanie laughed and without stopping, she kissed Denise's cheek, threading her arm though her friend's, pulling the two of them closer together as they turned a corner and were gone.

Fin