Wentworth

Between reflection... Chapter 2

"Though I must ask, Vera, just in light of this deliberate deception, just where does your loyalty lie?"
"With you, Governor," weakly answered Vera.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't hear that."
"With you, Governor. Always with you."

Joan glanced up at her, squinting her eyes, searching hers, seeing worry take place on her face. She nodded, taking the rag from one of her drawers.

"Incinerate that."
"Yes, Governor."

Joan watched as Vera headed out, cleaning the spot on which she had laid the shiv. She slumped in her chair slightly, glancing down. How could she still see him after the way he had treated her ? How he had treated Joan as well. All his missteps within the prison, or even with the prisoners. Needless to mention the debacle with Mister Jackson. She gritted her teeth and heard knocks, making her look up at her door.

"Come in."

Linda opened the door and stayed there as Joan stared at her.

"What is it, Miss Miles?"
"Prisoner Foster has requested to meet, again."

Joan remained impassive, despite the chaos within her. She had been avoiding Jane since that evening because she could not afford to be distracted. Or at least it was what she was telling herself. She couldn't stop questioning herself, and the pressure from Channing and the Board on top of Smith's plans made it all the more complicated for her.

"What should I tell her, Governor?"
"I can't, I'm busy. Is there a problem?"

Linda closed her mouth as Joan spoke again, she had already given that answer to Jane last time, and this time she wasn't certain the inmate would believe it. Not that it was any of her problems anyway.

"No, Governor."
"Good."

Linda left the office, and Joan placed the rag in one of the drawers of her desk, thinking about Jane. Reflecting on what her reaction would be at the news that Joan couldn't see her. Would she be bothered ? Would she be cross ? Indubitably she wouldn't be, not over her. Her mind and feelings had been all over the place lately. She couldn't seem to get a grip on them, and it irritated her more than she cared to admit. Causing her father's voice to taunt her more often, and god, she loathed it. Loathed it and yet sought it. She couldn't shake these feelings away, these... Sensations inside of her. She shouldn't have let that happen. It had opened a dam she wasn't sure could be closed, despite her best efforts. Every time her mind wandered back to that evening and the way her body felt, she couldn't help but feel that all of it was wrong, couldn't prevent her father's voice from haunting her from where he was ingrained, deep within. Joan closed her eyes, exhaling sharply. She stood, taking her things. She had to get away, to find a way to exteriorize these feelings somehow. The older woman thought for a second and left her office. Her fencing gear was in the trunk of her car, so she could most definitely go there without needing to stop at her apartment. She clocked out under the questioning gaze of Linda, but she left without paying attention to her, lost in her thoughts. She unlocked her car and sat down on the driver's seat, closing the door behind her. Shutting her eyes. She had meant it when she had told her she didn't want for it to be a one-time thing. But she couldn't wrap around her head what to do nor say. She also had no idea how her come back would be received, but she'd bet it'd be taken poorly. Joan gripped her head between her hands, muttering under breath, her jaw tensing. Feeling torn. She turned on the car and left towards the fencing studio, hoping it'd bring her clarity.

* * * * *

"Can I have a seat?"

Franky looked up at Bea, pushing the chair with her foot. They studied each other for a minute before Franky finally spoke.