The Guilded Lily Ch. 02: Dark Crystal

Chapter 2.

Dark Crystal.

Birmingham, Autumn 1997.

* * *

Crystal Blake.

I stood looking from the window of the train as it pulled out of New Street Station. There on the platform, tears streaming down his face, stood Jimmy Blake, my husband, and I'd just broken his heart.

We'd been together for almost 2 years, and in that time I'd fallen in love with him, we'd married, and with his help, I'd overcome the effects of my childhood abuse at the hands of my father. Jimmy's love allowed me to trust in a way I thought I never would again.

But the evil shadow of abuse had fallen over me once more.

On my thirteenth birthday, my father told me I was old enough now to be his 'girlfriend'. The abuse started that day and carried on for three years until I ran away from home at 16.

I spent two years homeless, drifting from place to place. Sometimes finding volunteer work with a roof over my head. Fruit picking. Sleeping in doorways and eating out of dustbins.

I'd been lucky not to fall into crime, but at the first sign of problems, I moved on. I'd been moving on when Jimmy found me sleeping in his doorway and rescued me. He gave me a job, a place to live and, most of all, a reason to hope. And now I'd left him.

I had to do it. I have a little sister, called Shelly, and our father always told me that when she was 13, she would be his 'girlfriend' too.

Shelly would be 13 years old in less than 2 weeks.

In the past, I'd tried to tell my mother about the abuse, several times, but she just got angry, called me a liar, said I was making things up, said my father would never do 'that'. I hated her. There was no-one to turn to. So now I had to go back and make her believe me or get Shelly away from that monster.

* * *

I got off the train at London Euston station determined to do some scouting before I committed myself to action. I rang my father's company.

"Good morning, Cline Fraser Associates."

"Hello. Would it be possible to speak to Mr Raymond Fraser please?"

"I'm sorry. Mr Fraser is out of the office. Can I take a message?"

"No, it's a personal matter. Do you know when he'll be back?"

"He's due back in the office on Friday."

"That's fine, I'll call him then."

"Can I say who called..."

I hung up.

Friday. That means he'll come home on Thursday. This is Tuesday. Scouting today and try to talk sense into my mother on Wednesday. I set off to take the underground to Knightsbridge.

* * *

Standing outside my childhood home brought back memories. Some of them good, but most not. I remembered running from here 4 years ago. I'd packed all the things I thought I needed. I was so naïve.

There was no way to tell if my mother was at home. I'd no idea what car she drove now, and street parking meant it could be any of these cars or none.

I walked to the corner, hanging around, looking like I was waiting for someone. I'd worn a black hoodie jacket and had the hood pulled up covering my short red hair. I'd almost given up and decided to come back later when a red Audi pulled up outside the house. The woman who got out had changed little, my mother, Maura Fraser.

I waited until she'd gone into the house with her shopping, then strolled past, noting the number of the car and scribbling it in my notebook. Now I'd know when she was in the house. Next visit was Shelly's school.

It was only a ten-minute walk to the private school where I had once been a pupil. Following the same plan, I waited close by, hood up, until the school bell rang and the girls left. I almost missed Shelly, she'd grown a few inches taller, her black hair was longer, and she was between two other girls. I was saved when a plump black girl came out of the gate and yelled, "Shelly, wait up!" She ran to catch up, and the four girls went down the street, talking and giggling.

I couldn't do a lot more with my day, so I set off to find some food and a cheap place to sleep that night.

Nothing in London is cheap, but I found a Motor Lodge hotel I could get to by bus, that was affordable.

* * *

The next day I set my plan in motion. I'd longed to ring Jimmy the previous night but couldn't involve him in this. The less he knew, the better.

I set out early to get to Shelly's school before the pupils. Shelly was coming down the street carrying her school bag. She was alone. I walked towards her, head down. I'd no idea what reaction I would get.

"Hi, Shelly," I said. She looked up.

"Crystal? Crystal! Oh, my God! You're okay! You're back! Does mum know?"

"Shelly. Slow down. You and I need to talk. You need to skip school, we'll find a cafe, and I can tell you why I came back."

"Skip school? I don't want to get into trouble."

"This is so important, Shelly. Please."

"Okay, there's a cafe by the library two streets over. We'll go there."

We walked down the street, talking about the past 4 years. Her school, friends, my health, where I'd been. We avoided the vital stuff until we got our coffees and were seated.

"Shelly. Do you know why I left?"

"Well, Dad said it was because you were a spoiled bitch, and Mum said you were depressed, had mental problems."

"Neither is true, Shelly. Let me say this and let me finish before you speak." I swallowed. "I left because our father was doing inappropriate things to me, sexual things. He'd started when I was thirteen, and it went on for three years. I tried to tell mum, but she didn't believe me. The only way out was to run away."

Shelly looked stunned. "Where did you go?" she asked.

"I was homeless for two years, Shelly, I lived on the streets, in squats, volunteer jobs, fruit picking. Anything to stay alive. Two years ago, I met someone who helped me...."

She glanced at my left hand. "Oh my God, you're married!"

"His name's Jimmy Blake. He's a Chef, owns a restaurant. He's a good man."

"Crystal, I'd say I don't believe you about daddy, but why else would you live like that for two years. There's something else though, isn't there?"

"I came back because he used to tell me that when you were thirteen, he'd make you his 'girlfriend' too. He hasn't done things to you, has he?"

"No, but now you say it, he's changed. He always kissed me on the cheek, now he wants to kiss me on the mouth. He hugs me a lot too. A couple of time he's brushed my boob with his hand, then apologised, said it was an accident."

"Thank goodness I'm here in time," I said, "Do you know when he'll be home, I know he's away somewhere, I rang his office."

"Tomorrow night mum says."

"Good. I've got today and tomorrow to convince mum that what I told her years ago is true."

"She'll be out until after lunch today. We can go back to the house if you want."

"I'd like that. Come on."

* * *

Shelly fumbled in her pocket and found her key. Opening the door, she punched a code into the alarm panel, and the bleeping warning stopped. "Not much has changed here since you left. Your room is still there if you want it. Mum always said you'd come back, and we were to leave it untouched."

"What about 'Dad'?" I spat out the last word, hating to use it.

"He expected a ransom demand. When there wasn't one, I heard him tell Mum he thought you were already dead, she would never believe it though."

"Well, I'm sure he won't be pleased to see me. I don't know what to expect from mum, though."

"She'll be pleased you're okay..."

"Yeah, but I have some hard things to say to her Shelly."

We moved through to the kitchen and Shelly made tea and a sandwich for me. We talked about the places I'd been since I saw her. She wanted to know what life was like without a home. I gave her the sanitised version. We'd been talking for a couple of hours when we heard a key in the front door.

"Shelly? The alarm's off, are you home?"

"In the kitchen, Mum."

She walked into the room, glancing at me, probably thinking I was a friend of Shelly's.

I turned towards her. "Hello, Mother," I said.

Her jaw dropped. "Crystal? Oh, my God! It's you, you've come home."

"This isn't my home Mother, not for four years. I've come to talk to you."

"To talk? What about? Where have you been? Why didn't you call us, let us know you were okay?"

I turned to Shelly. "Make mum a cup of tea, she and I need to have a private chat for a bit, we'll go through to the lounge."

"Okay."

We walked through to the lounge, and I closed the door. "Sit down, Mother."

"Why, what's this about?"

"Sit," I growled. I had her unsteady. I needed to stay on the attack. "Your husband, my 'father', sexually assaulted me in this house for three years under your very nose. You refused to believe me and so the only choice left was to run. I didn't contact you because I didn't want him to find me.

"Because of that, I lived rough on the streets for two years. I've slept in shop doorways, Mum, I've taken food out of dustbins to eat. Those are not the actions of a spoiled brat, those are the actions of someone terrified to go home."

"This must be some kind of delusion, Crystal. I think you're ill, we'll get you help," she said.

"What will it take to make you believe me? Shall I tell you his penis is six inches long? That he has a mole on the top near the base, that he has a tattoo of a tiger's head just above his pubic hair, that he gets the bloody hiccups after he's had an orgasm?"

"Oh my God, Crystal. NO! He didn't... You tried to tell me, and I called you a liar."

"It's far too late for regrets Mother, I'm here because he promised to make Shelly his 'girlfriend' too once she was thirteen. I'm not here for me, I'm here for her." I walked to the door and opened it. "Come in Shelly," I said.

"I'm sorry," she muttered.

"No problem. If it was me, I'd be listening at the door too."

I told Shelly to explain the recent changes in her father's behaviour to our mother. She listened and turned white. "I didn't WANT to believe it. I was so stupid, so blind!"

"The question is," I said, "what do we do about it?"

We talked for a couple of hours. I agreed to go to the police the following morning and report my sexual abuse. Shelly agreed to tell the things she'd noticed, and Mum promised to support us. Our father was due home the following evening and, to save confrontation, mum booked a hotel nearby for the three of us for the next night. I told her to book it in my married name so we could not be traced.

We ordered in takeaway food to save cooking that night. Shelly went to bed soon after dinner, and I took a shower.

I'd just come out of the bathroom, dressed in a robe, when I heard the commotion downstairs.

"So the little slut just decided to come home after all this time and spread lies about me, did she?" my father shouted.

"Is it lies? Is it Raymond? Because I believe her. You abused her in this house. She even tried to tell me, and I defended you. She spent years living on the streets because of what you did to her."

"Where is the little whore? Upstairs? I'll soon sort her out. Crystal!"

"NO! You'll leave her be. Raymond, NO!"

Then I heard my mother scream. I ran down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Mum?" What I saw made my heart freeze. My mother stood with a bloodied kitchen knife in her hand, her other hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

He lay on the kitchen floor in a rapidly expanding pool of blood, hand clutching his abdomen. He looked up at my mother and whispered, "Bitch!" then collapsed, losing consciousness.

"Mother, what have you done?"

"He was coming for you, Crystal, I thought he would hurt you. I thought threatening him with the knife would stop him, but he tried to push past me."

"Oh, God."

So many thoughts rushed through my head. What would happen, was he dead, would mother go to prison, who would look after Shelly? I decided.

I checked for a pulse... nothing... he was dead.

"Mother, give me the knife."

"But why? We need to call an ambulance... the police."

"Listen to me. You heard shouting, you came down the stairs, and you found me standing with the knife in my hand."

"Then they'll blame you."

"That's the idea. If you go to jail, who'll take care of Shelly? Who'll give her a home? Who'll be her mother? I can't do it. You need to be here for her. I need you to call the ambulance and the police as if you just found me here."

"I don't know what to tell them," she said.

"That you came downstairs and found me like this. He's dead, Mother. He stopped breathing as I came in. Get to the phone and call them."

My mother looked into my eyes, saw my resolve, and nodded. She made the call to emergency services.

"Mum? Crystal? What's happening?" It was Shelly.

"Go back upstairs, Sis," I said.

She came into the kitchen. "Daddy? What happened?"

I took Shelly away from the body on the kitchen floor and explained my version of what happened. She seemed to take it all in and accepted that I had been protecting her and our mother.

Minutes later, the police arrived. Mother let them in, and then the madhouse started. I was taken aside and questioned, then questioned again by another officer, then later by an Inspector. They didn't doubt that I had done it, they seemed to be looking for a deeper motive than self-defence.

I was charged with murder, handcuffed, and taken away in a police car.

After yet another interview, they locked me in a cell, and I had time to think. I didn't question what I had done, just tried to get my head around the consequences. I was given a meal, of sorts, then fell into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

I awoke in the morning disoriented. It took a couple of seconds for the events of the previous day to come back to me. A friendly sergeant brought me breakfast and, not long after I'd eaten, he took me to an interview room where I waited.

A tall, well-dressed man came in. He introduced himself as David Cline, my legal representative. The name rang a bell.

"Are you related to Colin Cline, my father's partner?" I asked. I still struggled to acknowledge him as my father.

"His son," he said, "I'm a criminal Lawyer. Your mother has retained me to represent you in this matter."

We talked. I gave him the story I needed him to believe. No-one but my mother could know the actual story. He advised that, as I was pleading guilty, he was submitting a plea of manslaughter hoping to get a shorter sentence. I asked how long I might get, but he was non-committal, saying it depended a lot on the judge and the background he could find.

I asked that I received no visitors, which surprised him, but he agreed to put in my request. I couldn't face my mother, I know she'd try to change my mind, and the thought of facing Jimmy and having to look him in the eye and lie was too much for me. I had to do this on my own.

I wrote letters to Jimmy, mum and Shelly and had Mr Cline send them for me. I needed them to know I was okay, but that I wouldn't see them.

The trial came around and was a bit of a formality. The only question was the sentence.

Five years.

It shocked me to hear it, but Mr Cline reassured me that, with good behaviour, I'd get out in less.

So I became a prisoner.

* * *

I soon got used to the prison system. Everything was regimented, but what got to me most was the boredom. I resolved to fill my time as usefully as possible.

I volunteered to work in the kitchens. I got books from the library and read them. Not far into my sentence, I enrolled for an Open University course in history, a subject I enjoyed, and somehow I filled my days. The nights, though, gave me far too much time to think.

I'd had a succession of cellmates in the first year, not getting close to any of them.

I came back from an exercise session one afternoon to find another unfamiliar person on the top bunk. She was the first new cellmate that I'd had that seemed to want a friend, and we soon started chatting.

Her name was Julie, and she was in for shoplifting. She was a thin, black-haired woman of my age. She already had 2 children, who were with her parents, and we got to talking about our lives, her kids and my husband, Jimmy. It was amazing how much faster the days went with another human being to interact with. We soon became firm friends.

I woke up one night to Julie shaking my shoulder. "You were shouting," she said. "Were you having a nightmare?"

"Sorry," I said, "childhood stuff still comes back sometimes."

She lay on top of the blanket beside me and held me, stroking my hair. "I'm here for you," she whispered.

* * *

I opened my eyes. A hand's breadth from my face was Julie. She'd pulled the covers over her in the night, and we were lying face to face, our arms draped over each other. Her eyes blinked open, and she smiled. I leant forwards and gave her a peck on the lips. "Thanks for comforting me," I said.

"Thanks for being my friend, I need one in here." She looked into my eyes, hesitated for a few seconds, then leant over and gave me a kiss back. It was longer than my kiss to her, and she closed her eyes as our lips met. I pulled back a little and looked at her.

"Sorry," she said, "I shouldn't have done that. Don't hate me, okay."

I smiled and hugged her, "I couldn't hate you, but I've never kissed a girl. It shocked me a bit."

She grinned, "We're still good?"

"Yep."

We got up then to start our day's routine.

* * *

Later that evening, we talked about the kiss. Julie had experimented with girls at school but never got past kissing and a quick feel. I'd never thought about girls sexually, but I liked the kiss.

"Maybe we could comfort each other," she whispered.

"I'm married, Julie. It would be cheating on Jimmy. I still hope he'll want me back when this is all over."

"He'd be a fool not to," she smiled, "you're beautiful."

"What then?"

"Just comfort, no stings, as much as you or I want to do. I'll be out in 10 months. I won't stalk you or anything!"

I giggled at her. "Let me sleep on it," I said.

* * *

Two nights later, I was lying awake. Sleep just wouldn't come to me. I felt the bunk bed move and Julie slid off her bunk to the floor. She lifted my blanket and slipped into bed with me. "Snuggle," she muttered as she spooned behind me and wrapped her arm over my waist. She kissed the back of my head and relaxed. She was soon asleep. Comforted by her presence, I soon followed.

I awoke in the small hours of the morning. Julie's hand was on my left breast, her fingers toying with the nipple. She squeezed my breast and slid her hand down my belly to the top of my panties.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," she whispered.

Her warm hand was soft. It slipped under the elastic of my panties and dropped into the fur of my pussy. Her finger brushed over my clit, "Oh!" I gasped.

"You're wet," she giggled, "Can I carry on?"

"Please," I said, "It's nice."

Her finger slid between my pussy lips, gathering moisture, then pulled back up to massage my little button. Having someone else do that for me was so exciting, I was getting worked up.

"Yesss!" I groaned, "Press harder, make me cum."

Julie increased the pressure on my little pleasure nub and leaned in close to my ear. The speed of her rubbing increased as she whispered, "Cum for me, Crystal, cum on my fingers, let me feel you cum."

I was almost there when she slipped two fingers into my pussy and pressed her palm onto my clit, pushing and rubbing.

As my body went rigid and my muscles started to spasm, I gave a strangled squeal and felt my juices run from my twitching sex. Julie pulled her fingers out and cupped my mound in her palm as I recovered from my orgasm.

I rolled over, pressing my mouth to hers. "So good," I whispered as the kiss ended, "Are we lesbians?"

"Don't think so," she said, "I'm too fond of cock to change teams. I guess you are too."

"I think you're right," I said, "I don't know how I will tell Jimmy, though."

"Do you have to tell him?"

"I couldn't keep it from him, though I've no idea what he's doing while I'm in here."

"There'll be time enough to sort it all out when you get released," she smiled.

I slid my left hand under her tee-shirt and up to her right breast, circling her stiff nipple. "Want me to get you off too?" I asked.

"Would you? I need to cum."

My fingers tweaked her nipple, then I slipped my hand down her body. Finding no panties in my way, I brushed over her mound and slipped a finger into her damp crevice.

"Oooohh!" she cried.

I had no experience to fall back on, except how I got myself off alone. I'd never touched a woman's pussy before, but I guess we're all built much the same. I circled my wet finger around her clit, dipping into her tunnel before returning to the sensitive bud at the top. Within a couple of minutes, Julie was gasping and moaning.

"Faster, harder," she urged, "Rub it, rub it hard." I complied, and a few seconds later, she stiffened and groaned as her orgasm overtook her.

As she climbed down from her peak, she pulled me towards her shoulder and kissed the top of my head. I cuddled up to her and soon fell asleep.

We woke the next morning still wrapped in each other's arms. We pulled apart, smiled, and got up to another day of captivity. It didn't seem quite so bad though.

* * *

Julie and I continued to sleep together over the next few weeks. Nothing more than kissing and mutual masturbation happened for a while until one day I got curious.

"Do you like your pussy licked," I asked her.

"Oh, God, yes!" she smiled.

"Want to try it tonight?"

"I've never done that to a girl," she said.

"Me neither, we'll learn together!"

* * *

That night, after lights out, she slid into my bed again. "How do we do this?" she asked.

"Sixty-nine?" I suggested.

She laughed and wriggled around on top of me, "Clothes off," she whispered.

Once we were both naked, Julie lay beside me, her head by my pussy and mine by hers. She lifted her leg and rolled on top of me, bringing her wet slit inches from my face. I could smell her excitement. I felt her breath on my belly, then a warm, wet tongue slithered between my labia. "Oh God," I whispered.

I reached around and cupped Julie's ass with my hands, pulling her snatch to my mouth. She moaned into my pussy as my tongue found its target. I'd tasted my own juices on Jimmy's mouth many times and found Julie didn't taste that much different. I liked it.

Julie pressed her mouth over my clit and sucked hard, flicking her tongue over it. I didn't stand a chance. I quivered, before thrusting my mound hard into her face as I orgasmed into her mouth.

I'd neglected Julie's pussy as I came but soon resumed licking and sucking as hard as I could, pulling her clit and nibbling on it. Julie exploded. She bucked on top of me, grinding her pubic bone against my chin as she shuddered over me.

"Oh FUCK," she squealed, "So fucking good!"

I licked her one last time as she rolled off of me and curled up in a ball. "Have to stop. Too much," she wheezed.

"Climb up here with me, and I'll hug you to sleep," I said.

She turned her body and kissed me. "We'll be doing that again!" she whispered.

We wrapped our arms around each other and soon drifted off into a satisfied sleep.

* * *

One Friday, they called me for visiting time. I explained that I didn't want visitors but was told it was my lawyer to see me. I went through to the cubicle and waited.

David Cline took the seat opposite me. I gave him a weary smile. "What's the problem, Mr Cline," I asked.

"I know that your wishes were for no contact with Mr Blake during your imprisonment, but he has contacted me to pass on some sad news." I held my breath. "You have a friend, Amanda Jacobs. I'm sorry to tell you that her husband, Colin, died last week."

"Oh, God, how?" I asked.

"They were running the London Marathon when Mr Jacobs collapsed and died. A post mortem revealed an undiagnosed heart problem."

"Oh those poor babies, they're only, what, two years old? Poor Mandy. How will she cope?"

"Might I suggest that this may be a suitable point to re-establish contact with your husband?" he said.

I thought for a minute. "I'll write to him. I'm sorry, but I still can't bring myself to see him. I'll fall apart if I do."

Mr Cline said that he understood, though I doubt he did. He agreed to forward a letter to Jimmy, and another to Mandy.

I wrote to them both. I told Mandy how sorry I was for her loss and told her she must get all the help she needed from Jimmy. To Jimmy, I wrote asking him to be there for Mandy. I decided that I had to be honest with him about my prison relationship with Julie, explaining that it was a friend-with-benefits thing, hoping he'd understand. Then I told him that, if the time came, he had my permission to comfort Mandy by returning to their 'agreement'. I just hoped I'd done the right thing.

* * *

For a while life in prison was almost bearable. Working in the kitchens took up some time, and I studied for my history qualification. I read a lot, and the interminable nights were made happier by having Julie in my bed.

We lay, one night, in the afterglow of almost simultaneous orgasms, holding each other. Julie pulled back to look at me. "You know I'm not in love with you, don't you?" she asked. "Yep, it's okay," I replied. "It's fun. Have you got a release date?"

"I can't fool you, can I?" she said, "I'll be out in 2 weeks. I can't wait to get back to my kids. They'll have grown so much."

"I'll miss you, but I'm so happy for you. I've done two years of my five-year sentence."

"You know no-one does their full term. You've been a model prisoner, I bet you'll be out in a year."

"I hope so. I wonder what's left of my life?"

"You need to go after that man. I can tell you're still mad about him."

"I don't know if he'll forgive me this... us," I sobbed.

Julie held me until I stopped crying, "We both know it's just for fun. He'll understand, I'm sure."

"I hope so."

I thought about Jimmy's relationship with Mandy, his fuck buddy. "Maybe he will," I sighed.

* * *

We made the best of our time together over the next fortnight, licking and rubbing each other at every opportunity. The day they released Julie was emotional. I smiled for her but knew we'd never see each other again.

My next cellmate was a much older woman, Sarah. I guessed she was in her fifties and overweight. She talked very little, and I found out almost nothing except her name. She had several tattoos on her left arm, and I asked her about them, not expecting an answer. Surprisingly, she opened up. She told me she'd done them herself using a needle, and ink from ballpoint pens. The quality of her work amazed me.

I thought about the permanence of the ink, and an idea formed. I wanted to dedicate myself to my husband. It was a way to believe that he'd want me back. I wanted to believe that so much.

"Sarah, would you do a tattoo for me?" I asked her one night.

"Can do. What you going to pay me with?" she asked. "I'm not a lezzie if that's what you're thinking."

"What do you need?"

"You get a cigarette allowance?"

"Yeah, but I don't use it, I don't smoke."

"Get them and give them to me. I'll do it for two months worth of ciggies."

She asked where I wanted it, and I told her just above my pubic hair. She grimaced. "You keep your panties on then, I don't need to see your junk!"

She started two nights later, and it took three evenings of uncomfortable, painstaking work. I looked at the finished job and thanked her. I just hoped it helped me.

* * *

Early the following year David Cline, my lawyer, came to see me again. He explained that he was applying for my release on probation. He thought it was a formality, and I would be out by the Summer.

In one way, I was overjoyed, in another, it terrified me. How would my family be with me? Could I stay with them? Would Jimmy see me and take me back? I became more and more depressed as the likely release date drew near.

* * *

I got a release date in May. My lawyer explained that I would have to give an address and have to look for work once they released me. I thought long and hard but could only think of staying with my mother and Shelly in London. I could not take the chance of asking Jimmy. What if he refused, what if he felt obliged to take me in, but didn't want me?

I wrote a letter to my mother explaining about my release date and waited.

Nights became the worst time for me over those last few weeks of my sentence. I could keep busy in the day, and keep my mind occupied, but at night all the probable scenarios for my release crawled through my head.

Was Jimmy back with Mandy? I'd told him he could if they needed each other. How would he take my cheating with Julie? Did we have a future, or had I screwed it up?

By the date of my release, I was a mess.

* * *

Being released from prison was just like it is on TV. They gave me a bag with my belongings, walked me to the door, and let me out.

I stood there, stunned for a couple of minutes. What did I do now? A scream brought me out of my inaction. "Crystal!" It was my little sister Shelly. I took in what I saw. She was a couple of inches taller than me and was a real stunner. Curly black hair past her shoulders, piercing blue eyes and, at 15 years old, a budding woman's figure.

"Hello Sis, how you doing?"

"I'm so glad to see you. Oh, Crystal, you look so tired, you're so skinny."

"I've been okay, it's just these last weeks that have dragged me down. I don't know what I'm coming out to."

"To us, silly." She flung her arms around my neck and hugged me. "Mum's here, we'll look after you."

I looked beyond my sister to see my mum standing a few yards back, looking on at our reunion. Her eyes met mine.

"Hello, Crystal. Shall we get in the car and get back to the house?"

Shelly took my bag from me, and took my hand, leading me towards the car. Mum followed. I could see that she had no idea how to react to me. I had no idea what to say to her. We needed to have a talk before too long.

The drive back to London only took an hour, and we were soon in the house where grew up. I walked into the kitchen and froze. I looked around, glancing at the floor, somehow expecting to still see evidence of blood on the tiles. Mum rested her hand on my shoulder. "Let's get you settled again, shall we?" She steered me towards the stairs and took me to my room.

"Get settled in and look in the drawers and cupboards to see if you have anything that will fit you," she said, "I'll get you a drink."

"Coffee please, two sugars," I requested.

I slipped off the clothes I was wearing and looked at the choice of things in my room. I realised that I must have lost a lot of weight in the last few weeks, clothes I'd had when I was sixteen still fitted, some were even loose.

I pulled on clean panties and socks, slipped into a pair of baggy jeans, sadly no longer in fashion, and pulled on a tee-shirt. I combed my hair and went back downstairs.

"Oh, I'd have brought your drink up," said mum, "You don't have to go in the kitchen."

"Mum, if I'm going to live here, I have to come in here. It looks like it's all been refitted, anyway."

"Yes, we had a new kitchen, after..."

"Yeah, I know. Later, when Shelly's asleep, we need to talk."

"Okay," she replied.

"I'm going to chat to Shelly for a bit," I said.

I went upstairs and knocked on Shelly's door. "Come in!"

"Hi, Shell, thought I'd come and see my little Sis."

She ran over and hugged me. "Come and sit down, tell me about prison."

I told her what I could. We talked about the boredom, the qualification I'd got in history and the work inside. She told me about the time since I'd been in jail. What had happened, how she'd coped. I felt we'd renewed our bond a bit.

"Can we talk about that night?" she asked.

I knew it would have to come sometime. "Okay," I said.

"I have dreams, you know, about that night. I had one last night, it made me remember something."

I looked at her. "Uh, huh."

"I'm lying in bed, I hear a scream, someone running down the stairs, shouting."

"That would have been mum," I said.

"Okay, then why do I remember that the person running downstairs shouted 'Mum'. It was you on the stairs, wasn't it?"

I froze. "I guess you just got the memory muddled after all this time."

"No, that's the thing. It's always been the same dream, but I only connected it up last night."

"Memory's a funny thing, Shell," I said, "I'd better go check on mum, she might need a hand with dinner."

I went back down to the lounge and found mum reading on the couch. We chatted about nothing much and got take away food for dinner. Once it arrived, we all sat down to eat. Shelly kept looking at me during dinner but didn't mention her suspicions again. She went to her room after we'd eaten, to catch up on her homework.

Mum and I cleared up the dishes and sat in the lounge. "We need to talk, Mum," I said.

"I guess we do. I'm so guilty about you being in jail, it was my crime, and you paid for it."

"I had to do it, you know that. I couldn't have held it together here. Shelly needed you, she needed a mother."

" I don't know how to react to you, Crystal, I let you down. It was my fault you left home, my fault you had to come back to save your sister, and my fault you were in prison for two-and-a-half years."

"It's over, Mum. I've let it go. Try to do the same. I can't get that time back. I just hope I still have a husband and a life to go back to."

"Doesn't Jimmy know you're out of prison?"

"No," I said. "I couldn't face rejection, so I've not told him. That's what I've spent the last couple of weeks worrying about."

"Will you tell him the truth?"

"I must, Mum, I can't keep anything from him. It's why I couldn't see him while I was inside. I couldn't lie to his face."

"Will you tell anyone else?"

"I think Shelly knows. Remember that night? She told me she heard the person running downstairs call out 'Mum' as they went. She suspects it was me, not you."

"Don't lie to her, either, Crystal. Call her down. I'll tell her, it's not your job. Just stay with me in case she takes it badly. She may hate me after."

I fetched Shelly from her room, and we sat in the lounge. Mum explained the proper story of that night, and I explained my reasons for taking the blame. Shelly stared at us, dumbfounded, for a while.

She looked at me. "You did that for me? So I'd have a mum, a home?"

"Yes, Shelly, I love you!"

She flung herself across the room at me, crushing me in a hug. "I can't begin to understand what you've done for me... for us. You spent 2 years homeless, you found happiness then gave it up to save me, then you saved mum and spent over two years in prison. I... we... we owe you so much."

I looked across at mum, sitting on her chair. She looked at me and dissolved into great racking sobs. With tears streaming down her face, she walked over and embraced Shelly and me.

"I love you both so much! I'll try to make it up to you Crystal, though I don't know if I'll ever be able. There's money, he left a fortune, and huge insurance too, but what you need to do first is to get your husband back."

"I don't know if he'll want me. I cheated on him."

"What? How?"

"A girl, in prison."

"Does he know?"

"Yes, I told him. I can't lie to him. My entire life was a lie for so long. He trusted me, I have to do the same to him."

"Do you love her?"

"No, it was a fling, a bit of fun. I don't think I'll ever see her again. I'm probably bisexual, but I want Jimmy back if he'll have me. I never fancied a girl before or since."

"There's only one way to find out. Tomorrow, we'll visit your probation officer, and then you need to go to Birmingham and sort this out."

I was an emotional wreck that night. I was lying awake after midnight, when the door of my room opened. Shelly padded across the floor to the bed, lifted the covers and slipped in beside me.

"I missed you so much, Sis. We used to be friends. I thought you were dead or something for four years, then you get put in prison to save mum and me. I want my sister back now. I never want to lose you again, Crystal."

I hugged her close and held her. She wrapped her arm around me, and we both drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The train pulled in to Birmingham New Street station. It was Saturday morning, and I thought back to the scene I'd left two-and-a-half years ago. My Jimmy, standing on this very platform sobbing. I pushed the thought away, I had to see him.

I got a taxi from the station to The Guilded Lily and paid the driver. I stood on the kerb staring at the restaurant for several minutes. Gathering my courage, I stepped inside.

I walked through the restaurant in a daze, opening the door to the kitchen and stepping in. There stood Jimmy. He looked older, thinner. He looked up from the food he was preparing, and his gaze caught mine, a stony look. Did he even recognise me?