Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Six

Rideten, Present Time

“For some reason I had thought we’d be going to the prison,” Aislen commented as June parked in the undercroft parking beneath the footprint of a building just off the main street of Rideten’s business district. It felt odd to be back in Rideten. She vaguely knew that the prison was on the outskirts of the city, but she had never had reason to know its precise location. “This isn’t very prison like.”

“No. Sometimes they hold it at the prison, but sometimes here. Guy always gets his hopes up when it’s here,” June said fretfully, touching up her lipstick in the rear-view mirror. “He thinks that when it’s here, they’re seriously considering releasing him. They put him under suicide watch after the last hearing here, he got so depressed.”

“Well, let’s hope today is good news,” Aislen said with more confidence than she felt as they got out of the car and crossed to the stairs.

“It has to be,” June said with the fervency of a zealot.

In the front entrance, they passed through security scanning, before examining the board for the room where the hearing would take place. They were greeted at the door by a middle-aged woman in a sharp suit.

“Susan,” June said gladly. “This Aislen Carter. Aislen, this is Guy’s lawyer, Susan Roberts.”

“Nice to meet you,” Aislen nodded.

“Do I call you Aislen, or Morgana?” Susan consulted her phone. “Your legal name is listed as Morgana.”

“For the sake of today, go with Aislen,” she decided. “It’s what Guy knows.”

“June and Guy said you can contribute that his motive was not to harm Lucy,” Susan assessed Aislen briskly, and Aislen resisted the urge to pick lint off the black skirt and top that she wore. The skirt was pencil-style and mid-calf, and the shirt had a retro high neckline and puffed sleeves in black lace, so Aislen knew that, although it was an outfit that would not be out of place at a funeral, the lawyer had nothing to complain about.

“I saw them at school during the week before,” Aislen said. “Lucy was in the bathroom chucking when I was in there, and she told me that she was pregnant to another boy at school, and that Guy was going to help her get an abortion in Trayrock if the at-home measures failed. I told them both at the time not to do the knitting needle thing, but…” She didn’t like lying, she admitted to herself, but it was less lying than slightly adjusting the truth, implying that things had been spoken aloud rather than learnt via her ability.

“Leave the last line out,” Susan said quickly. “Was there a name for the other boy?”

“Ro--” June started.

“We’d prefer not to say,” Aislen interrupted hastily. “He’s married and has kids and is a local in Havermouth. Saying his name could cause trouble for us in Havermouth.” With the pack, she added mentally. A pack that, if she accepted the Triquetra as mates, she was going to have to have some kind of a relationship with, and whose rules and laws would, by extension, apply to her.

“You may be pressed to name him,” Susan observed coolly. “It would be simpler if you did.”

“I rarely take the simple option,” Aislen replied ruefully. “They can try to press me, but they’ll fail.”

“What if not naming him changes their mind on releasing Guy?” June protested.

“Trust me and Susan,” Aislen assured her. “We’ll make the right call – if we think not knowing is going to affect Guy, we’ll name him, but not unless, agreed?”

June held Aislen’s eyes, searchingly. “Okay,” she sighed out finally.

“We’re beginning,” Susan commented as the door was opened from within by a security guard.

The room was smaller than Aislen had imaged, and more of a boardroom than her mental image, which had looked a lot more like a courtroom. Six people in suits sat on one side of the table, chatting in low voices as they poured water and sorted through paperwork.

“This way,” Susan led June and Aislen to the opposite side of the table, leaving three seats open. “Greg, Howard, Margery, Louis, Patrick and Beatrix,” she greeted the assembly of people as she sat. “You will remember June Barnham, and this is Aislen Carter, who is also known as Morgana Ivy. You have the submission regarding Aislen.”

“Yes, and we have some questions…” A woman started, but was interrupted as the other door opened and two prison guards led in Guy.

Fucking hell, Aislen thought, Guy had spent his prison sentence in the gym, from his build. He was no longer the long limbed, skinny boy of high school. He had filled out into his height. His brunette hair was long and tied back into a ponytail, but he was freshly shaved, from the paleness of the skin on his cheeks and jaws. His eyes met Aislen’s and he smiled slightly, mouthing: “Thank you” as he took his seat. His wrists were cuffed together, but he was dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers, and could have stepping in off the street.

“Mr. Barnham,” one of the men greeted him solemnly.

“Mr. Fisher, members of the board,” Guy replied. His voice was deeper than Aislen’s memory. Of course it was, she told herself. Five years was a long time. “Thank you for allowing this hearing. June, Aislen, and Susan,” he nodded down the row of seats to them. “Thank you for coming.”

“We were just discussing Ms. Carter’s inclusion today,” the first man resumed.

“As per the submission, Aislen Carter went to school with Guy Barnham and Lucy Smythe,” Susan said smoothly. “And had a conversation with them prior to the weekend Lucy Smythe passed away, in which she says that she learned that Guy and Lucy planned on seeking the services of an abortion clinic and that the baby was not Guy’s.”

The man opposite to Aislen lifted his eyebrows. “And you’re coming forward now, five years after the fact?”

“I didn’t know that my information was important,” Aislen replied, meeting his eyes boldly. “It was fifteen minutes of my day, and no one ever said anything to me about it afterwards. I was eighteen,” she shrugged. “Like most eighteen-year-olds, I was busy with my own problems. A couple of weeks later, I left Havermouth for a scholarship at the Rideten School of Art and did not return for five years. I moved to Kabramatta for two years after completing my scholarship and, honestly, didn’t think of Guy and Lucy again. We weren’t friends, it was just one of those incidental meetings around the school.”

“During which they told you that not only was Lucy pregnant and getting an abortion, but that the father of the baby was someone else?” A woman was dubious.

“Not quite like that,” Aislen replied. “Lucy was vomiting in the girl’s bathroom whilst I was there. She told me after whilst stealing mints from someone’s bag. She invited me to the back of the oval to bum a smoke from Guy.”

“Mr. Barnham has never mentioned that the baby was not his.”

“I didn’t know,” Guy admitted quietly. “Lucy just told me that she was pregnant. It never occurred to me that it wasn’t mine.”

“So, according to the information here,” the third man looked at the paperwork. “Your behaviour has been exemplary, Mr. Barnham. You completed several courses online aimed at improving employment prospects outside of prison, as well as participated in prison work programs, most particularly carpentry, with good reviews.”

“Yes,” Guy’s expression was tense and anxious. “I hope to get a job in carpentry, or possibly with Zeus Forest Works, back in Havermouth, upon my release. I’d prefer to work in carpentry, but that might not be practical. I have already written to Zeus, and my dad has spoken for me with his supervisor, and there’s a job there for me when… if…”

“Is there anything that you’d like to add, Ms. Roberts?”

“Guy’s served five years for a foolish, poorly educated mistake made when he was just a teenager. There was never proof that his intentions were anything but to help Ms. Smythe, and Ms. Carter’s statement adds weight to that. He has been an exceptionally well-behaved prisoner, has completed his high school diploma as well as five additional courses in fields that will improve his employment prospects upon release, he volunteers in the prison kitchen and laundry, as well as various reading programs,” Susan replied promptly. “His psychology reports have been excellent. He is ready to re-enter society and is a low risk of returning to the prison system.”

“We will let you know our decision in fifteen,” the man opposite to Aislen announced, and the prison guards stood immediately, shuffling Guy out between them.

“This way,” Susan gestured for Aislen and June to leave.

In the hallway, June turned to Susan. “It went well, didn’t it?” She asked anxiously.

“We are in a strong position.”

“I’ll just go see him,” June decided. “Aislen?”

“Sure,” Aislen followed June down a side hall to a doorway next to a glass window.

June leaned against the window. “Here to speak with Guy Barnham,” she said into the holes in the plexi-glass. “June Barnham and Aislen Carter.”

The door clicked and June reached for the handle. They entered a narrow hallway which reminded Aislen of a hospital, from the bland décor and faint scent of cleaning products. At the end of the hallway, a prison guard nodded to them and let them pass, entering a small room dominated by a wall of bars. The first cell was empty, but Guy sat on the simple bench in the second and looked up as they entered, rising to his feet, and walking to the bars with a smile.

“June,” he said warmly wrapping his fingers around the bars. “And Aislen, wow…” His smile widened. “Thank you so much for coming today.”

“Sure,” Aislen didn’t know what to do, so she hung back against the far wall. “It’s good to see you.”

“It went well,” June told him. “I really hope…”

“It’s gone well before,” he replied carefully. “Let’s just wait and see. But I think Aislen might have made the difference,” he looked over June’s shoulder to where Aislen stood. “I… I can’t thank you enough, Aislen. Really.”

Aislen could feel herself blushing.

“We--” June started, only to be interrupted by an intercom buzz sounding, and the prison guard moved towards the cell. “That’s the recall,” her eyes widened as she looked back at Guy. “That was quick. Much quicker than normal…”

“It was,” his knuckled blanched around the bars. “June…”

“We’d better go back,” Juna agreed. “We’ll see you in a moment, Guy.”

June and Aislen hurried back down the hallway to the door, and then down and around to where Susan stood by the now open meeting room door.

“Ah, good,” Susan said as they reached her. “They’re back.”

“That was quick,” June whispered frantically. “Wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Susan nodded, but kept her expression neutral.

Guy was being led in as they entered and took their seats.

“We’ll keep this short,” the woman at the end of the row smiled. “Congratulations, Mr. Barnham. Your parole is granted.”