Chapter 29.

                                    

                                          
As the weeks stretched on the two women grew closer with every night they slept in each other's arms as they approached and shot past a year of enjoying one another in their relationship. 
                          
Kate learned how to handle Joan's moods and how to calm her. She had a step by step system in place to de-escalate situations before they turned to throwing things. And she brought a few cheap boxes of second hand plates for when throwing things became the only option. Kate called it Joan's Greek moment. Joan acted as though she was unimpressed but internally was grateful for the gesture, knowing Kate understood her deeper than she thought.
                          
Joan threw the plates when she had another death in custody to deal with. It was becoming too much, as much as she had squashed all avenues of drug supply they just kept trickling through and she couldn't get her head around it anymore. She couldn't figure it out. Staff incompetence and the constant trickle of contraband were driving her insane. She couldn't fix this prison and it was becoming strikingly evident. She felt the failure of her posting looming over her like a black cloud.
                          
As they grew closer Joan pushed herself to open up, she wanted to be a normal person in a normal relationship with normal emotional reactions. She talked to Kate about things she had never spoken of to anybody. She wanted Kate to know that she trusted her, appreciated her, and above all else, loved her, so Joan tried her hardest to be as normal as she could manage. She felt vulnerable when she spoke about the terrible things in her past that she had endured, or had done. 
                          
But Kate passed no judgement. Sometimes she asked questions to get the story straight, but she would always hold Joan and remind her that she loved her very much. There was a rising sense of conviction between the two women as Kate knew she didn't have to poke and prod anymore to get the correct story from Joan, and Joan knew she could trust Kate with who she truly was, even if sometimes she didn't know if she could trust herself.
                          
Sometimes the stories disturbed Kate greatly. They painted a picture of who Joan really was and the picture was formidable to say the least. But Joan seemed to be moving into new territory where she was an emotionally alert individual, even if she didn't always feel the appropriate emotions at the appropriate times, she was starting to display clear signs of empathy and compassion. Kate was proud of the journey her lover was taking and she shared the joy of Joan's new emotional grounds as she explored them in the safety of their relationship.
                          
Joan planted a new bush of white roses for Kate in her garden bed beside her black roses. She chose a variety whose flowers were as full and fat as the size of a fist with lovely scented petals. She chose white because Kate was the light to her darkness and the flowers quickly bloomed like wonderful clouds.
                          
Kate made a very concerted effort to make sure she had contact with Joan's skin often, which wasn't always an easy task, but it made a clear difference in Joan's behaviour and emotional control. So even when she had to wrestle a suit jacket from her lover's body or pin her to the couch in order to get close to her, Kate was determined that the skin to skin contact was a key factor in grounding Joan in her moments of mental chaos.
                          
They took turns cooking for one another and whose bed they slept in. Kate would cook hearty comfort food that warmed her on the inside and made her feel full and happy. Joan was a fan of salads with some form of protein. Kate missed the carbohydrates on those nights and would often add some bread to her plate. Joan would always smile and ignore the addition.
                          
One night in particular Joan was agitated. Kate had seen the car headlights pull in across the road. She'd heard the car door slam harder than usual. Harder than ever actually. Joan had stormed to the front door, her heels clapping against the concrete as though she were stomping. Kate had peered through the curtain and noticed the rigidity in Joan's body as she crossed the short space between her car and the alcove that sheltered her front door. The downstairs lights were flicked on; Kate could see the glow around the edges of the closed blinds. The music didn't go on. Kate waited.
                          
Fifteen minutes passed and Kate couldn't yet hear any smashing or yelling, she had kept an eye on the upstairs window, wondering if Joan might have gone for a shower, but no other lights had flicked on. 
                          
Kate began to worry. 
                          
She pulled on a woolly cardigan and locked the door behind her before crossing the street and approaching the red front door of Joan's house. Kate approached quietly, cautiously. She pressed her ear to the door to search for a hint of what might be happening inside. She heard muttering, and footsteps on the hardwood floor boards. 
                          
The door was unlocked. Kate walked inside to find Joan pacing up and down along the length of the dining area, muttering to herself about how it's all gone wrong. Her hair was down in a messy tangle of curls from being held in a tight bun all day and her suit jacket was unbuttoned.
                          
"Joan?" Kate questioned gently, cautiously approaching. "Are you okay love?"
                          
"It's all gone wrong. It's all gone wrong," Joan muttered over and over again as she paced. 
                          
Kate wondered what kind of loop she was caught in this time and what had happened at work. It was always work. She didn't even think Joan had noticed her there in the room yet, perhaps she was caught in another hallucination of her father. "Joan," Kate called a little louder in hopes of snapping her out of whatever she was caught in.
                          
Joan stopped in her tracks and looked up. She saw Kate standing there near the entry, her face covered with worry and seemingly too scared to approach. She ran her fingers through her hair in exasperation of the day she'd had and tried to take a deep breath to calm herself. 
                          
With slow steps Kate approached Joan and put her own fingers through Joan's hair, rubbing her fingertips and short nails gently against her scalp. Joan's head drooped forward and landed on Kate's shoulder. Her body began to shake and within a few seconds tears were streaming from her eyes. 
                          
Joan's body heaved with sobs as she clung onto the one person she truly loved. She knew she was safe right now and her vulnerabilities exploded from her body. Together they sunk to the ground, Kate supporting Joan as she crumbled. She held Joan close and let her cry it out. Sometimes it was all that could be done. 
                          
At least nothing was smashed this time, Kate thought to herself as she kissed Joan's forehead and rocked her back and forth. 
                          
Kate cared for her all night, but Joan wouldn't utter a word about what had happened that day. The retribution that she had sought had not been delivered, and now someone whom she needed to see hurt was about to walk free.