Vice Versa

By Pat Harrison

Vice Versa by Vera Veryovkina is a book that follows the lives of a group of connected people as they live, work, interact, love, and generally cope with the world they are familiar with. Their lives are similar enough to ours to be recognisable to most of us and yet different in many ways. Whether that difference is good or bad is perhaps for y

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pat Harrison
• Release date: Dec 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9781739193119

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VICE VERSA

by VERA VERYOVKINA

TRANSCRIBED BY PAT HARRISON

COPYRIGHT 2022

COVER DESIGN: CREATIVE COVERS

TYPESETTING & PROOFREADING: BOOK POLISHERS

PRINTER: INGRAM SPARK

The moral right of Pat Harrison to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or places is entirely coincidental.

About Vera and This Book

So far as anyone knows, Vera Veryovkina is not a real person any more than this is a true story but suppose she were and it was? A work of fiction requires only that you read it with an open mind and the willingness to accept that what is described within its pages might be possible.

It has been said that the only stupid question is one which nobody asks (which is such a good quote it is not entirely clear who said it in the first place) and, fortunately for the rest of us, many people have spent their entire lives seeking answers to questions some of us hadn’t even thought of. These people are called philosophers and it is thanks to them that there is such widespread knowledge about the world that we, and others, live in. However, despite everyone’s best efforts, there is still no definitive reason as to why we live as we do.

There are those who believe we live out our years according to a long-ago constructed plan whereas others claim that destiny is no more than the flip of a coin or an accident of birth. As even recorded history is not always accurate it is impossible to find the definitive truth, which inevitably means that sometimes myths are constructed for the convenience of those who wish to control others.

Many centuries ago, John Donne (1572-1631) wrote ‘no man is an island’ and that is true in many ways. Each one of us is affected by our upbringing and culture, neither of which we choose although, by the time we are aware, usually feel normal. However, wherever we look outside our own experience, it is clear that normality can vary. In some parts of the world people are suffering terribly whereas in others life can look idyllic.

Do we have the right to increase our knowledge or understanding of this world and, in so doing, give ourselves a better chance of improving the quality of our own lives as well as that of others? In short, should we even be thinking that maybe there is more to learn or a better way to be? The answer to that question must be: Yes! and Yes! and Yes!

It is Vera’s hope that anyone reading this book might begin to wonder whether there might be a better, fairer way of living than exists at the moment and, if so, then she, in her totally fictitious way, will be very pleased.

Thank you for reading.

VV 2022

Chapter 1

The court waited in silent expectation as the judge read the papers, considering this point and that, while counsel sat respectfully, members of the jury waited patiently and, in the public gallery, reporters’ fingers checked to see their mobile phones were to hand. All such devices were switched off, their use not being allowed until a verdict was declared and the judge had left the court. However, as soon as that happened, reports of the case would be relayed instantly back to their offices for immediate publication. Everyone in the newspaper world knew how important it was to be first when it came to breaking news, a mantra which was drummed into everyone on a daily basis and, as a consequence, all reporters were more than aware how important it was for their readers be made aware of the verdict as quickly as possible.

The defendant, wearing a colourful top and very brief shorts, which showed off long, slim legs, and fashionable shoes with a small heel, stood in the dock also waiting anxiously for the judge to speak. Would it be freedom or detention? Escape or incarceration? It had been a nerve-wracking wait for everyone since the jurors had announced their verdict but, eventually, there was a shuffling of papers and a wig-framed face looked up to address the court.

Having considered all the evidence set before me, I have come to the conclusion that the defendant, by dressing in an inappropriate manner, without due thought or care, recklessly risked provoking members of the public and that the charge stands. As this is the third time of being found guilty for the very same offence, the defendant shall be detained for eighteen months. During that time, there will be ample opportunity to reflect upon certain proprieties, including appropriate ways of dressing and how to behave acceptably in public. In short, I hope this will the last time I see the defendant before me on this or any other charge but if not then I give fair warning that the sentence will be much harsher next time.

As the defendant gasped in horror at both the sentence itself and its length the judge, that visible arbiter of freedom or incarceration, collected up all the paperwork and rose, ready to leave. This was the signal for everyone else to get to their feet and an exchange of bows between officers of the court before the judge turned, walking towards the small exit door in the side wall. Absolute silence enhanced the sound of the judge’s shoes on the wooden floor until the small door closed.

The courtroom filled with noise as everyone began to chat amiably, able to speak openly with each other for the first time since the judge had entered. Prosecution and defence lawyers, clerks, observers in the public gallery and reporters collected their things together and began to leave, talking and laughing as they did so. Mobile phones were switched on and events reported. Eventually, the room was empty, all its previous inhabitants now heading back to their offices. The reporters were no exception.

That was a bit harsh, wasn’t it? Eighteen months, just for showing a bit of leg.

Maybe, but you know the law: ‘dressing in an inappropriate manner, without due thought or care, recklessly risking or provoking members of the public’ into – well – doing something about it. Here the reporter guffawed, adding: I mean, you couldn’t really blame anyone for thinking it was a come-on, now could you? I wouldn’t say ‘no’ and I bet you wouldn’t either.

Could you actually see anything?

Not from where I was standing. You?

The same and, believe me, I tried.

Dirty bugger, the other guffawed.

Can’t blame me for that. You’ve got to take your chances where you find them these days. Youngsters only have a few years before everything goes saggy - and then no-one wants to know.

You looked in the mirror lately? the other joshed.

Ignoring the jibe, the middle-aged journalist with the slack skin continued, grinning, ruefully. But seriously, if they looked after themselves a bit more when they were young, things wouldn’t get so bad in later years..

Still chuckling and having some time to spare before the next case, decided to lunch at a local pub. This was always their preferred way of passing any free time, eating, drinking and exchanging information, some of which may – or may not – have been simply gossip but all of which was interesting in one way or another. There were so few people who actually knew the truth about anything these days, it was important to hear as much as possible.

To an outsider, it might have looked as if they were simply two friends having lunch together but, being reporters, they still considered themselves to be working, often claiming to never having any days off at all. Detectives in their own field, they had got into the habit of continually listening for clues, or anything that could have been hinted at, as much as hearing what was actually spoken. That was their job, after all.

Later that same day, the newly convicted prisoner was taken to a waiting prison van, its rear doors gaping hungrily, before being instructed to enter and sit in one of the compartmentalised seats. A few others followed before finally a guard in uniform climbed in after them, the back doors were slammed shut and the great engine emitted a rumbling growl, warning everyone within hearing distance that it was ready to leave. The handbrake was released and the motorised cell began to move slowly towards the outer door.

As the occupants in the main body of the vehicle steadied themselves against the movement, the prisoner glanced at the other prisoners. Sitting quietly, in a subdued way, they were all behaving as if everything was normal but for the prisoner there was only despair. Was this how life was going to be now? Shut away from everything and everyone, deprived of any sort of choice, simply following orders? Always feeling a step down from everyone else? Desperately gloomy thoughts descended like the darkest of clouds, erasing any hope or optimistic thought.

To begin with the drive was a slow process. This was the older part of town and there were many tight turns to be navigated, entering and moving along streets which were only just wide enough for traffic, having been built to accommodate horses and carts rather than motor vehicles, but the driver was very experienced and handled the vehicle perfectly. In the back, the occupants hung on as the conveyance made its way onwards, slowly turning this way and then that before finally leaving behind the tight little streets of town and getting out on to the wider, straighter, less encumbered roads which would lead them to their destination. The driver gradually increased the pressure on the accelerator and the van roared noisily on its way.

During the course of the journey, the prisoner sat silently, head bowed, not wishing to engage in any conversation, simply processing the entire experience which had already been too much to deal with. The others however chatted cheerfully, exchanging details of the differing circumstances which had led to each of them being there, sitting in a van which was now being driven to a prison where they would be locked away for months or years. It seemed a little surprising that none of them seemed particularly bothered by the fact that this would keep them away from the world outside, as well as apart from their family and friends. There were of course a few tightly regulated visits but, until their sentences had been served, none would be trusted to live in the outside world.

Overall, the conversation was quite cheerful, there was some grumbling but, mostly, it was upbeat, they had been here before and knew it wasn’t the end. They all agreed their convictions were either undeserved or too long, due to the unfairness of the system and its draconian laws. However, not one of them thought they would have to serve the whole of their sentence inside, all agreeing that, so long as they behaved themselves, early release would be assured. There was much sighing, some swearing, and general agreement that life was unfair but even that was discussed good naturedly. It was no big deal. In fact, as one of them said: It is what it is.

Eventually, of course, the van came to a halt and there was an exchange of voices before the vehicle moved forward a little more, finally stopping for good. As the engine was switched off, it seemed to sigh in relief. Then there were sounds of doors slamming and a few moments passed before a shaft of light and fresh air entered the van as its own doors were opened. The prisoners were ushered out and led towards a sturdy gate, which was closed and locked behind them. There was a chilling finality to the sound of the bolt thudding into place and the key turning in the padlock. Then the group was escorted down a well-lit corridor and even further away from freedom. In the distance, the van’s engine could be heard, firing up once more and roaring loudly, like a beast in the jungle saying farewell. Another door slammed and then there was silence.

Once safely inside, everyone was registered, given a number, relieved of all personal items, which were signed for, then told to change into the drab, grey prison uniform which they would wear from then on. They all listened quietly as the prison’s rules and procedures were read to them before being led away by some of the other wardens waiting nearby. Striding briskly forwards they walked out into a large empty area from which a couple of huge metal staircases rose to an upper floor where a corridor connected a series of cells all around the building. Stopping outside one of these cells which, from the small amount of light entering, they could now see contained a bed, table and seatless toilet, one of the warders checked a list before speaking.

This one’s yours.

One of the prisoners was encouraged to step inside the cell, a name was ticked off the list and the remainder moved on. This procedure was repeated until there was only one prisoner left. Because this last one was the newest inmate, with no previous experience of being in jail, the warden’s behaviour became more relaxed.

Indicating that the prisoner should enter the cell, the official stood to one side and waited. Settle in and make yourself comfortable. It’ll be dinner time soon. All meals are served downstairs so when it’s time you should go down and have something to eat. Then you come back here when it’s bedtime. You’ll know when that is, they ring a bell. Then you’ll be locked in until morning. Got that?

Alone at last, the prisoner sat on the bed, trying to determine how comfortable it might be. There was still that slight feeling of unreality that had been present ever since the judge had pronounced sentence and this experience was definitely part of that but, otherwise, this only seemed slightly odd, all things considered, more a continuation of strangeness. Today had been a day like no other but everything was bound to be clearer in the morning, after a good night’s sleep. Meanwhile, sounds of talking, even laughter, were drifting in through the open door, beyond which the metal corridor and secure railing could be seen. There was a huge space before another railing guarding a similar corridor, with opened cells, was visible on the opposite side. However, they were all empty and the sounds were coming from below.

Looking down, the floor below had been set with tables, prior to becoming a communal dining area and, from the uniforms everyone was wearing, it was clear that everyone was either a prisoner or warder. The only difference seemed to be that the prisoners were the ones moving about and doing any work while the warders watched, keeping an eye open for any untoward behaviour. It was like being in the playground at a grown-up school!

In the middle of the area, the long tables were being laid ready for a meal by a few prisoners. Most of the others were clustered in groups, scattered here and there, talking, laughing, not working, just hanging around, until it was time to eat. Although the others from the van were almost certainly within that great group, because of the uniforms they were now wearing, it was impossible to pick out any of them and this accentuated the feeling of loneliness and abandonment.

However, putting emotions to one side, it was clearly time to join them so, hesitantly at first, just putting one foot bravely in front of the other, the newest inmate stepped out and down, towards the bustling crowd wondering, as they all did when they first arrived, which laws everyone else had broken. More than one pair of eyes turned up to glance at the lone figure descending before turning away to continue whatever it was they had been doing before. However, as the newcomer reached the last few steps, someone approached, grinning.

Hi!

Hi, came the uncertain answer.

New here, aren’t you? Don’t remember seeing you before. First time?

The prisoner nodded, wanting to respond but not quite knowing whether or not this new person could be trusted.

So, what’s your name, then?

It’s Bobbie, the prisoner answered shyly. That’s what people call me.

And I’m Ally. The other held out a hand. Pleased to meet you. How long are you going to be here, Bobbie?

Eighteen months, they said.

That’ll soon pass, you’ll see, Ally nodded. Meanwhile, maybe you can give us a hand?

Following Ally towards the partially laid tables, Bobbie was soon in the midst of that throng which chatted and laughed in the huge, echoey space as if being in prison were the most natural thing in the world.

*****

As soon as the trial was over, the Judge returned to her chambers to check for any messages which might have come in while she had been in court before tidying up her office for the day. Flinging her robe casually on to the coat stand but carefully placing her wig in its box she moved towards her desk. Around the room, most of the walls were hidden behind filing cabinets or shelves full of reference books. To an outsider it might have seemed as if there was too much legal documentation and that no-one could possibly know where everything was, but having all that information to hand often saved a lot of time which might otherwise have been spent searching hither and thither.

She was liaising with her secretary, advising the result of the trial whilst handing over the current documentation for filing, when the phone rang. It was Louise, one of her colleagues, asking how she had got on and wondering if she was planning to go for a drink before going home. Accepting with a smile, she quickly tidied up her desk, bade her secretary a good evening and left the building.

The bar was slightly dim inside, which was the effect of the huge stained-glass window maintaining some privacy for its customers by preventing too much light entering, and it was already full of people relaxing at the end of a hard week. Looking towards her usual table she spotted Louise and headed straight towards her. Their table, one of many, was tucked away in the corner, which saved it from some of the jostling which they both knew would come later as more people arrived to enjoy happy hour. An opened bottle of wine and two partially filled glasses stood waiting for her arrival, along with some small bowls of nibbles, peanuts and cheesy things, all with added salt.

Placing her bag on the table, the judge leant forward to kiss her friend on the cheek before slipping off her coat and sitting down. They were both dressed in the dark woollen skirts they wore to work. Each garment was made of four, overlapping, panels of material, two for the sides, one at the front and another at the back. In manufacture, the back was positioned first, then the two side panels and, finally, the front while professionally stitched seams ending just below the tops of the legs kept everything in place. The weight and cut of the material ensured modesty when standing or sitting but also gave great freedom of movement when walking, striding or even running. A dark jacket, matching the material of the skirt, and a white blouse completed the outfit, along with some jewellery which was small, discreet and expensive, like their perfumes.

So, Catherine! her friend asked. How did your case go?

It was fairly straightforward, she answered, shrugging. Simply too much flesh on show.

Indecent appearance?

As good as.

Some people simply don’t know how to dress or behave properly, commented her friend, censoriously. It’s a dreadful shame.

It is, Catherine agreed.

What was the sentence?

Eighteen months.

For a first offence?

Third, Catherine corrected her before sipping her wine. The first being probation and then community service.

Three convictions? What is the matter with some people? Don’t they ever learn?

There was a silence as each savoured the fragrance and flavour of the wine and considered their inner thoughts. After a while, Louise spoke again and there was a light in her eye.

Fancy going for a meal after this?

I can’t, sorry. I promised I’d be home by seven this evening. Frankie’s doing something special. No idea what but I don’t want to rock the boat. You know how it is.

Louise was suddenly very quiet and Catherine felt bad as she realised how disappointed her friend was. They had a good relationship most of the time but there were moments when Catherine felt more like a mother figure than an equal partner and this was one of those times. She had an idea.

Why don’t you come along as well? I’m sure there’ll be plenty to go round. There usually is.

Are you sure? Louise raised her head, looking anxiously.

Of course. You’re not doing anything else this evening, are you? So why not come along to mine and we’ll all have a great time?

It does sound very tempting and Frankie’s a great cook.

That’s settled then. You’re coming home with me!

Do you know, I believe I just might. It could be fun.

It’ll be the perfect way to end the day.

Two glasses were raised. I’ll drink to that! Cheers!

Chapter 2

Frankie was dressed more modestly than Bobbie had been with shorts ending just above his knee. It always pleased Catherine to look at him in his bright, colourful clothes which, although never the height of fashion, were always respectable. Like many others, his shoes were slightly heeled and she liked that because when his foot was tilted slightly forwards, his calf altered its shape a little which, in her opinion, made it look more attractive. The downside of him looking good in this way was that walking was slightly restricted and running almost impossible but, since he couldn’t remember when he had last needed to run, this seemed totally unimportant.

His meal did not disappoint, either. Small but tasty hors d’oeuvres preceded beautifully cooked, slightly pink roasted beef, with crispy potatoes and a selection of moist vegetables, all washed down with a good red wine. That was followed by spiced apple pie with custard, a good cheese-board and glasses of port. After the meal, the ladies leaned back in their chairs, replete and full of praise for Frankie’s cooking. In turn, he accepted their compliments with slightly bowed head, modesty and pleasure, advising that it was always a good feeling when hard work is properly appreciated.

Meanwhile, back in the prison, plates of sausage, mashed potato, cabbage and gravy were sitting, steaming fragrantly, on long tables before being devoured by hungry inmates. An old Spanish proverb notes that hunger is the best appetiser.

*****

Later, when Louise’s taxi had driven away, Catherine did her usual security check, making sure the front and back doors were locked and windows fastened, before turning off the lights and going upstairs. Frankie was already in bed and Catherine smiled in anticipation of delights to come. Discarding her clothes and dropping them untidily on the floor, she climbed in beside him, snuggling up to her partner, a drift of perfume reaching her as she noticed the freshly combed hair. There could be only one reason why someone would go to that sort of trouble before going to bed. Smiling, she reached an arm over Frankie’s body, and pulled him closer.

That was a wonderful meal tonight, she murmured as she nuzzled into his ear.

I’m glad you liked it, he responded, smiling coyly back at her.

You are so good at everything, Catherine cooed. I think you need a reward. Have you taken a tablet this evening?

He nodded, then rolled on to his back as she adjusted her body to cover his.

Will you turn the light off? he whispered.

For you, my darling, I would do anything, she answered, reaching for the light switch.

*****

Later still, when Catherine and Frankie were fast asleep and in another part of town, two lads came out of a nightclub. They paused on the pavement as they said their goodbyes.

Are you walking or will you get a taxi? asked one.

Taxi, replied the other. It’s too far to walk and I’ve had too much to drink.

They both walked towards the taxi rank and one opened