Archive of Our Own

When Wentworth Correctional Center got the command to lock down due to Covid 19, the staff that were in the building were almost as much prisoners as the inmates. Those who were able to get away did so, but most were stuck at work. A prison can spread disease quickly due to close quarters, and the governing body that was in charge of the place ordered that no one was to leave or enter until further notice. Food could be delivered, waste dealt with, but no people were to leave or enter the building. It was a frustrating situation for all involved. The inmates could no longer go outside for an airing, the laundry closed down due to hotels closing, and all inmates were kept in their cell block units even for meals. This could have been an explosive situation, but containing the women kept things from being violent in most areas.
Normally, Governor Joan Ferguson would have been quite happy to have to keep people locked up tightly, but that would have been only if she wasn’t one of the people who had to be locked up as well. When the order came to her over the phone, the first thing she did was lock her office door. She gave the command to Deputy Governor Vera Bennett, who then relayed how things would work to all the Correctional Officers, that everything would go through her via phone or email or other electronic communications. No one had seen the Governor since the order had come down.
We all need companionship, Vera thought, and she was missing the woman who had become her closest contact since her mother had died. Joan and Vera had become friends, and had bonded outside of work as well, and Vera found herself missing Joan very much. It was odd, really, as Joan was not the type to open up to anyone, but Vera felt they had a good understanding. Joan would seem to others like someone who would be an easy, low maintenance friend. Oddly, it turned out that this was not the case. Joan Ferguson required very little time of Vera at first, but she was just not emotionally as available as Vera would have liked. Joan hid her emotions almost all the time, and it was difficult for Vera to figure her out. Still, the challenge of doing such was intriguing, and Vera was determined to learn more about this other woman, to be closer, to have each other as confidants, support and maybe even as best friends. Vera had never had a best friend, not really, and at this stage in life, it seemed it had to happen now or never. Joan was difficult in that she had a lot of what Vera decided to think of as “odd quirks.” She seemed to count how many times she chewed, she was forever cleaning things with strong disinfectants, always making sure that things were placed exactly as she wanted them, cutting off visits without more than a word and so on. These quirks intrigued Vera, but could also be somewhat annoying at times. Fortunately, Vera was patient, and compared to what she had lived with all her life, Joan was a dream to be with. It didn’t hurt that Joan was easy on the eyes, either. Vera loved how well the Governor wore her uniform, how it fit her figure exactly, the curves of the other woman’s tall body were well emphasized in whatever she wore, but that uniform was so perfect on her. Joan also had the most amazing voice, one that could be deep and sultry, or harsh and commanding. Her hand gestures were also quite precise, conveying meaning in strong and graceful ways. To be completely honest with herself, Vera had to admit that she loved watching Joan’s hands; they were just so strong and capable.
Vera’s line of thought about the Governor came to an end when her phone rang. It was Joan’s line. The only communication the two of them had had over the quarantine had been via telephone, or rarely these days, by com radio.
Vera picked up the handset to the phone, and her years of being trained how to greet people over the device made her polite as she answered it.
“Hello, Vera Bennett speaking,” she said, then felt a bit foolish. It was her phone, and only Joan was calling her nowadays.
Joan didn’t bother with niceties, “Did Spencer and Dalton get the schedules figured out for delivering food to the women this week?”
Vera nearly sighed, then caught herself. No “hello, Vera.” No anything but straight to work. This is what their new and blossoming friendship had come down to. Quick bits of information about work exchanged efficiently, nothing more.
“Yes, they did,” Vera replied. Before Joan could hang up, Vera caught her attention with a more personal comment. “Um…Joan, I… Uh…. How are you doing? You haven’t left the office in almost a couple of weeks. It can’t be fun.”
There was a pause, as though the Governor didn’t have an answer to the question. The phone was not conveying anything other than what sounded like a deep and sharp intake of breath on the other end.
“Um… Joan?” Vera promoted.
“Yes, Vera. I am here. I haven’t left the office for obvious reasons,” Joan stated in her work voice.
Since Joan couldn’t see her, Vera felt free to roll her eyes as she said, “I mean, how are you doing? Are you okay? Isn’t being stuck in there getting a bit rough? I know you have soap and toothpaste and everything, but it must be lonely…”
“I would think, Vera, that other people are having a much harder time with this than I am. I have my own space, my own bathroom, and while not convenient to have to use only a sink to stay clean, I have managed,” Joan stated. She could have been talking to a mechanic about her car at this point, she was so matter-of-fact. There was no tone to her voice to indicate to Vera what Joan’s mental state was.
“Okay,” Vera replied. She was reluctant to end the phone call, having not talked to Joan very much at all recently. “Do you have enough to do? I mean, do you want more books or something?”
Again that annoying pause, then, “I have my computer. I’ve been reading, watching operas, doing work, etcetera.” Another pause, in which Vera just decided to wait to hear what Joan would say next. She didn’t have to wait too long. “I am fine. How about you?”
That response was worth the wait.
“I’m okay, but…I…” Vera started, then took a breath and decided to go ahead with what she really wanted to say, “But I miss seeing you.”
“I miss seeing you, too,” Joan replied, startling Vera with a personal response.
Vera smiled to herself, then pushed her luck a little more, “We know I’m not contagious or sick, do you think maybe we could see each other face to face?”
“Why?” was the annoying response. Hadn’t they just said, in a way, that they both wanted to see each other?
“Because it’s been a long time. I miss you. You did say you missed me. Why not have a visit? It’s not healthy to be all alone for so long. We haven’t even talked about anything other than work over the phone,” Vera answered. She knew she was setting herself up for disappointment, but she had to try if she had a shot at continuing their tentative friendship during this unusual situation.
Joan’s tone was softer when she replied, “I am used to being alone. That isn’t a problem. I would like the company at some point, though. As long as it’s just you.”
“Yeah, sure,” Vera responded enthusiastically, “I wouldn’t ask anyone else to come, just the two of us. I could come in to your office and just stay for a bit.”
Pause. Then, “Let me think about it.” Then the receiver was put down and the call ended.
Vera put down the handset of her phone. She and Joan weren’t that far apart, really. Her desk wasn’t that far from Joan’s, but they were, in a way, more apart than they’d ever been. Vera’s heart melted a little bit thinking back on Joan’s “I miss seeing you.” That was nice. The other woman had admitted to missing her. No one had said that to her in a long time. Well, Fletch had said something like that, but that had just been uncomfortable for Vera. Joan saying it meant a lot more.

Sleeping on a couch in the break room wasn’t the most pleasant experience, especially since the previous person to have slept there had clearly been a man who need to shower more often. The staff were taking turns sleeping where they could, and a couch in the break room was prime real estate. The break room was kept mostly dark at all times so that C.O.s could sleep in shifts. Vera seldom pulled rank on people, but for this, she had. She had made sure that she had a relatively comfy couch and that she could sleep during the night. She was entitled to six hours of what was supposed to be uninterrupted sleep. It wasn’t, of course, because others were spread around the room to, including on the lunch table. One of the men had found as many blankets as he could and had used them for cushioning on the hard surface. For Vera, the problem was that at least two others snored, and Lee had to get up to pee about three times in the night.
What was it with that woman, Vera wondered as she listened, yet again, to Lee stumbling around, half asleep, as she fought her way to the door and out to the ladies’ staff washroom? There was no point in trying to sleep until Lee came back, as she would be just as noisy returning to her spot on the couch across from Vera’s. It was a good thing, she decided, that no one had shown symptoms of the virus among the staff. Lack of sleep would have set her up to get sick for sure, and that lack was cumulative. She did catch some sleep after Lee came back, but it was probably just from her body needing it and crashing a bit more than a normal, restful sleep would provide. She missed her own bed, her own bathroom, her own food. No wonder people’s nerves were getting frayed. Some of them missed their own kids, some their friends and recreation, some their lovers… Vera snorted at the thought as she lay on the couch, staring at the mostly dark ceiling. She wished she’d had a lover to miss.
Back at her desk, after stretching, doing some quick exercises to keep mobile, having a quick breakfast of toast and tea and getting herself ready for the day, Vera felt antsy. It could have been just cabin fever at this point, but she felt it was something more. She was waiting to hear from Joan, to see if they could have a visit. That was what was bugging her, she decided. The day seemed longer than usual as she had to wait. And wait.
By four pm Vera had still not heard from the Governor. No questions or orders about the day. Nothing.
By five-fifteen, Vera made up her mind: if Joan was going to get her visit, Vera would have to push her on that. Joan never dragged her feet on anything, but she was so afraid of the virus that maybe she needed some prodding. Vera picked up the phone and dialed Joan’s office.
“Speak,” Joan said, as though talking to a dog.
“Hi Joan, it’s me,” Vera said, still feeling the need for niceties.
In an irritated tone, Joan responded, “Of course it’s you. You’re the only one on this line. And that’s an absurd phrase: if anyone else was calling, they could say the same thing. ‘It’s me’ in no way indicates who the speaker is.”
Right. So that’s how it was today. Vera decided not to quibble about the phrase.
“Okay. Um…have you thought about maybe letting me come in for a visit?” Vera plowed ahead.
“I have thought of not much else since yesterday,” was the response.
“Oh, good. That’s…um…nice. So, have you decided when?”
“Yes, but there must be precautions taken,” Joan stated.
Vera nodded, even though the woman at the other end of the line couldn’t see her. “Of course. I’ll wash my hands thoroughly before I come in. It’s been over two weeks, so you know I’m not sick, but we still need all the safety procedures followed.”
Vera heard Joan shift some papers around before she spoke. “I have a list of requirements, Vera. It goes beyond just hand washing. If you are willing to follow these, then I’ll consider letting you in. Without each step in place, it just wouldn’t be the way it should be.”
That was odd phrasing, Vera thought. At least Joan was willing to have a visit.
“That’s fine, I’m happy to comply,” Vera said. “Just tell me what else you need me to do besides washing my hands,”
“No,” was the response.
“No?” Vera said, puzzled, to say the least.
“Obviously you heard me. My requirements are written out on paper. I will push the page under my door and you can pick it up and follow the orders.”
“Um…okay, yeah, I can do that,” Vera responded, somewhat dumbfounded. How on earth could Joan’s requirements need to be written on paper? Maybe the isolation was affecting Joan more than she knew.
“Fine. Let me know when you have everything together, then we can talk time,” Joan said, then hung up.
Vera left her desk and walked over to the Governor’s office. Sure enough, a single page of paper had been pushed under the door. Vera picked it up and read, in Joan’s neat script, the following:

‘Vera: I require you to be sterile if you are to enter my office. As you know, bacteria and viruses can spread quickly without the carrier’s knowledge. Please ensure that you have everything in place, otherwise I can not I consent to let you in.
1. Shower. Scrub everything. Wash your hands again after drying yourself.
2. You will need to have a face mask. Germs can spread via a sneeze or cough, and a mask is the best way to protect others.
3. You will need to wash your hands, then have protective gloves. These will limit the spread of germs.
4. You will need disposable footwear coverings, as there is evidence than Covid 19 can be spread via footwear - something to cover your own shoes that is sterile is essential.
5. A visor. I am not at all ill, but it will still be safer if you can cover your face.
6. A disposable covering for your clothing. Something like that worn by painters will suffice. If you have it clean and put it on just before entering, that will help keep germs from spreading via your clothing.
7. Cover your head. Keeping your hair contained will be best as far as being neat and not dropping any hair anywhere. A sterile ball cap or some such will do.
8. Do not bring anything that has been outside Wentworth at any point. No books, games nor anything at all.
9. Once you are adequately covered, I will decide if it is safe for you to enter my office
I look forward to seeing you. Governor Joan Ferguson.”

Vera read the note, blinked a couple of times, and re-read it. How the hell was she going to find half the items that Joan had asked her to wear? A painter’s paper covering? Disposable footwear? A visor? A ‘sterile’ hat?.... This was the point at which Vera became worried about Joan. Sure, the other woman was a germaophobe, and sure, precautions were a good idea, but this was way over the top. Vera knew that Joan meant business. There was no doubt in her mind that she had to comply with the written orders or give up on having a visit with her boss and friend. Giving up seemed like a good idea after reading the list, but her worry about the other woman made her make up her mind that she would do her best to gain access to that office. Her hunt for the items, however, would have to wait until the next day as it was time her for dinner and then on to the couch in the break room, and she was far too tired to miss any of the six hours she was allotted.

The one good thing about being quarantined in a prison is that it is almost a small version of the outside world. Most services and resources essential to everyday life were available somewhere. If one needed an oven, then one could use the ovens in the kitchen. If one needed a clothes dryer, those were in the laundry. Due to the shut down, theses things would be available as needed, and although Vera couldn’t imagine going into the kitchen to use an oven, at least it was there. The things she needed should be around, somewhere, in the prison. Probably. Hopefully…
Vera’s first stop in her scavenger hunt was, logically enough, medical. She thought the gloves and mask would be easy to get, and maybe even scrubs that would work to cover her clothing.
Nurse Rose Atkins was the individual who had been trapped in the prison’s medical unit. She was basically on duty twenty-four seven, and was sleeping on a medical bed at nights. She was a very attractive woman, Vera noticed, but at this time she was looking a bit frayed around the edges. Her dark hair was put up in a messy bun with strands falling down. She wore no make-up, and her scrubs were clean but crinkled. Well, really, everyone was starting to look a bit frayed.
Vera smiled as she knocked to be let into the medical unit.
“Hi, Rose,” Vera said upon being let in. “I was hoping you could help me find a few things.”
Rose looked at Vera with eyes that had heavy bags under them for a young woman. Clearly, the situation was getting to her, too.
“Sure, what is it you need?”
Very took out the piece of paper with Joan’s list on it and looked at it again before speaking. “Well, um… I think…ah, some things for protection against the virus.”
Rose looked a tad concerned for Vera for a moment. “You are protected. Staying in and hand washing is the best way to avoid it.”
“Yes, I know, but I have to visit...er…” And this was when Vera decided that perhaps sharing the list or information about Joan may not be the best idea. If Joan was okay, then telling Rose about the visitation requirements could mean that everyone would know about her germaphobia, which Joan would not want to share with the staff. On the other hand, if Joan was having some sort of mental health issues (what else could she call it at this time?), then that should be kept quiet until something could be done, or at least until Vera herself had a good idea of what was going on. For some reason, Vera was feeling protective of the woman who was the strongest person she had ever met. Vera folded up the paper and decided to put it away, safely, in a pocket for her to hang on to. “I have to check on some prisoners, and I don’t want to spread anything.”
Rose nodded, “Fair enough, but I thought everyone was okay right now.”
“Oh, they are, no one is sick. I just thought I’d be careful,” Vera continued, “So I need a face mask, a visor, maybe some scrubs, and gloves, of course, and maybe something to cover my hair…”
Vera stopped short when she noticed Rose had tilted her head and was looking at her as if Vera had lost her mind.
“Um, Deputy Governor, I think that’s a bit over the top,” Rose said. “You have easy access to gloves everywhere in the prison…”
Vera nodded in agreement.
Rose continued, “And the mask, I may need if someone does get sick. We don’t know when we’ll get the next delivery of the things, and I am going to hang on to what I have here, unless you order me to hand one over. You can use a scarf as a mask, it will do much the same job. Or anything you can cover your face with. I only have my scrubs, and I need them. I don’t have an extra set here, I’m sorry. I don’t have a visor, either. I think some of the women use shower caps? Maybe you can find one at the sundries shop for your hair?”
Vera’s shoulders sank a little as all this set in. Rose was right, of course. The things Vera had to get were over the top, and it was really hard to justify taking anything away from medical that could be needed for a real medical emergency.
“Um…yes, you’re right,” Vera said, trying to appear perfectly normal despite the weird requests, “I…will look elsewhere. Thank you, uh...carry on!” And at that, Vera turned on her heel and left the small room to Nurse Atkins once again. She was glad no one was in the corridor as she walked to the sundries shop, as they would have seen her face glowing red with embarrassment.
As it turned out, there were indeed shower caps in the shop. Cheap ones, like the kind hotels leave out for guests, but Vera figured one of those would do. She pocketed one and wondered where she’d find the other items she needed. Gloves were easy. The C.O.’s always had a pair on them, and Vera had a box of small sized ones in her desk. No one else had hands as small as hers, and she hated having to try and work in gloves where the tips of the fingers just dangled in mid-air, so she had her own supply. Why on earth had she even asked Nurse Atkins about those? She could only put it down to being nervous about finding everything and hoping to have gotten it done in one fell swoop.
She continued down the corridor, and came across a supply closet. Perhaps there were painter’s type suits in there? It was a large enough closet that she could walk into it after unlocking the door and flicking on the light. There were supplies for cleaning: mops, buckets, detergents, and so on. There were some cans of WD-40, containers that were labelled as having different types of screws, nails and tacks, rolls of printer’s paper (why was that here and for what?), two by fours stacked up and – lo and behold! – painting supplies. She took two steps and was right in front of the shelves with the brushes, solvents, paint trays, a few paint cans, artificial sponges and paint stir sticks. There were no protective coverings, no shoe covers, no visors. Vera started to push some of the items aside to see if the things she needed might have been behind something else. As she peered further in to the wooden shelving, she heard a thump from the direction of the door. She jumped, starteled, banged her head on the shelf a bit, and was treated to the vision of the door being closed behind her. It hadn’t wanted to stay open for long, it appeared.
“Oh, great, just great…” she muttered to herself as she tried to open the door. It wouldn’t budge. At some point its locks had been changed from standard metal keys to key cards. The problem here was that no one had bothered to set the thing up for a key card from the inside. There was still a hole for the metal key - the key Vera did not have. Of course, she could use her radio and call for help any time, but she really didn’t want to do that unless she had no choice. The situation was rather embarrassing, and the Deputy Governor needed to appear in charge of all things at all times. At least, that was what Joan Ferguson had told her.
She looked frantically around the room, trying to find something – anything – that could help her pry open the door. A screw driver was the first item she tried, but there was no way the door was going to budge. Maybe if she could find a crowbar? Not likely, but she could at least look around. Nothing was visually close, but there were shelves that she was too short to see the tops of. Maybe she could find something useful on those, perhaps even protective coverings, or a set of keys? ‘Yeah, sure, I’ll find those…” she thought to herself as she reached up as far as she could, her right hand trying to explore the top shelf while she stood on her tip toes.
The idea occurred to her that this wasn’t a smart idea. Sure, maybe there was something useful up there, but there could be spiders or something else nasty that could do her harm. She looked around for something to use as a step stool, but of course there was nothing. No one else who ever came into this storage closet would need such thing. Nothing to do but climb for it. Why not? She was already in for a penny, in for a pound.
Carefully stepping up onto the second shelf from the bottom, Vera grabbed onto the metal frame that held the shelving up to steady herself and pull herself up. She managed to get almost to eye level when she realized another shelf was needed as a step. She pulled herself up to the next one. In truth, she was rather proud of herself, even if she didn’t find anything, at least she was being independent and working towards her own freedom. Finding freedom in a prison on lock down because of a global pandemic was as ironic as it gets, she thought, just as she pulled herself up to where she needed to be to see the top shelf. It was awkward as hell, but she managed to get high enough to look around. There was a bag of something, like a flour bag, in front of her. To her right, there was a box about the size of a shoe box, and she could see that it was clearly labelled “A bunch of crap”. Further on were other boxes, some things shoved in corners that she couldn’t identify, and so on. Nothing useful after all. Not that she’d really expected it, but still… She turned her head to look in front of herself again. There was, she noted, a lot of dust. This place needed to be cleaned properly, she thought, then smiled at the idea of how horrified Joan would be to see this much dust anywhere in her prison. She was about to start climbing down again when dust did what dust does: it made her sneeze. This blew the dust around her, and she sneezed again. She had to make her way down, but found that sneezing stopped her just before reaching the ground. Then her foot slipped.
Heels do not make for great climbing gear, and Vera’s free hand tried clutching anything she could grab to steady herself. She caught the metal support for the shelf, and tried to pull herself closer to the shelving. Unfortunately, all that did was prove to Vera that the shelving was not very well secured – it started to wobble. Not wanting to get caught under a falling shelf, Vera decided to swing herself over to the next shelf in order to avoid getting hit by the first unit. She managed that, but had to step down onto the floor before she was really ready. She stumbled as she dropped onto her feet, then backed into the shelves across from the one she had climbed. She managed to avoid falling and hurting herself, but the heel of her left shoe caught on something, and she felt it snap off as her foot twisted a bit. She felt lucky that she was able to regain her balance and not knock anything else down.
A brief moment later, Vera learned what had been in the bag on the top shelf as it hit the floor. The bag popped open, and a good portion of the contents flew out. It was like potato flakes, but smaller. It tasted dry and … tasted? The stuff had gone everywhere, covering her and the contents of the closet with a nice blanket of whatever the hell the stuff was. Vera coughed, shook her hands out and was grateful that it wasn’t the entire contents of the bag that had escaped, just enough to be really nasty and inconvenient.
There was nothing else for it now. There were no keys, no useful tools, just herself covered in white powder, with a broken shoe, and a supply closet that was a bit of a disaster at this point. Vera sighed as she took her radio out of the pouch it normally sat in on her belt. She blew the powder off of it, then looked at the thing. Who was she to call? Anyone near by? What if Linda Miles saw her like this? Nope - not an option. Linda would think it funny or some such. Not Fletch, she already felt uncomfortable enough around him since their brief romance had ended with the most embarrassing night of her life. Will? Maybe. He’d be able to keep a secret. She sure as hell didn’t want the Governor to learn about the situation. There were other officers around, of course, but none that she knew well enough to trust under the circumstances.
“Sierra three to Sierra five,” she said into the radio.
The strong, masculine voice of Will Jackson answered her call, “Sierra five here.”
“Um….” Vera started, realizing that asking even Will to unlock and let her out of a supply closet wasn’t really an easy request.
“Sierra three?” Will’s voice cracked a bit with static as it came in.
“I need you to…Um… You know the supply closet that’s between medical and the showers? The second one?” Vera said.
“Yeah, sure. Why?”
“I need you to get something out of it,” Vera said, not quite sure how to phrase her request.
“Okay. What do you want me to get?” Will’s voice came back, sounding almost amused at her phrasing.
“ Um… Me.”
Will chuckled a bit as he said, “Okay, on it. Sierra five out.”
It seemed to take Will forever to get to the door, and Vera was feeling more than a little claustrophobic by the time she heard the lock open in response to the key card.
“Oh, thank God,” she said as the door opened.
As her eyes adjusted to the extra light, Vera’s ‘thank God’ turned into “Oh, God…” It wasn’t just Will on his own. He had company: Linda Miles and Matt Fletcher were standing on either side of Will. All three of them were quiet and obviously concerned about her. She was, after all, standing funny, leaning to one side, covered in whatever the white powder was, and had been locked in a clost.
Will was the first to speak. “Are you okay?”
Vera looked down as she answered, “I’m fine.”
Then the chuckles started. As they turned into full on laughter, Vera caught sight of a camera flash. Linda had her phone out and was taking photos. Great... Just. Fucking. Great.
The three of them continued to laugh as Vera limped out of the closet and headed for the shower block.
“Oh shit, Vera, how the hell did this happen?” Will managed to say between bouts of laughter.
Vera hobbled on as she said, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
For some reason, the others found even that statement funny, and laughed even harder.
“Come on, Vera, you have to tell us some time,” Fletch said, and he even giggled a bit – giggled. The big man never giggled as far as Vera knew.
“I’ll tell you after I shower,” Vera replied.
Linda let out a snort of laughter, then managed to say, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I’m not in the mood to be teased,” Vera shot back.
More laughter.
“I’m not teasing,” Linda responded, after a good further round of laughter. “You’re covered in wallpaper paste. I think getting it wet would not be a good idea. I think it would mash up everywhere and get your hair clogged.”
Wall. Paper. Paste. Why was that even in a prison? Where the hell was there wallpaper anyway? Vera stopped short as she thought this through.
“Fine,” she said, turning around to face the still smirking trio. “Then what do you suggest I do?”
Linda shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Hey,” Fletch said, “Why not vacuum it off? I think that will get most of it off of you and your uniform.”
“Good idea,” Will put in.
“Sure. Why not?” Vera said, unenthusiastically. “But where do we have a vacuum cleaner? It’s not like we let the women vacuum their cells.”
“Janitor’s closet?” Linda suggested.
“Nope. They mop or sweep the floors,” Will replied.
“Shops. They have a shop vac,” this from Fletch.
The conversation continued in this vein, and Vera went with the little group to the shops. Sure enough, after a bit of searching, wherein Vera refused to search any closets by herself, Will and Fletch found a shop vac. Basically, to Vera, it looked like a barrel with a hose attached that was mounted on casters. She stood still as Will and Linda ran the nozzle over her back, down her skirt, and even around her hair. She insisted that Linda vacuum off her front and backside – she was not letting the men do that.
As she was turning around to be cleaned off, Vera noticed that there were overalls hanging in the shop. There were visors, the kind used for welding, and various other things that could be used to satisfy Joan’s list. At least there was some benefit to all this.

It took some time to get cleaned up after being vacuumed down in the shop, and Vera had to shake out her uniform several times, and still wasn’t happy with the results. She figured washing it by hand would have to do, but what was she to wear in the mean time? She and the other women had been taking turns with a bathrobe that had been available, some extra white cotton shirts (all of which were too big for her, but at least she had been told by one of the other female C.O.’s that it made her look ‘cute’), and anything extra that they had brought. Some had a change of dress for going out after work, some had extra shirts, a few even had work out clothes. Vera had none of those. She didn’t even have a spare set of underwear, and was washing hers by hand every night. Everything was off. Vera had not prepared for a lock down due to a pandemic. No one had. She made a mental note to have a new rule added where staff had to have at least one extra change of clothing on hand at all times.
In the end, there was nothing else for it. Vera decided that since this was only for a visit with the Governor, and not something she would wear on patrol, she would get away with wearing teals. The thought was rather distasteful, but it was eminently practical. There were always a few spare sets around that didn’t have to be ordered. She found them as expected, in the closet that kept such items for when prisoners needed them. This time, upon entering the room, she wedged the door open. There never was anything in her size, but with a hoody and sweat pants, that wasn’t overly important. She also took a pair of white sneakers to replace the shoes with the one broken heel.
In the end, Vera Bennett managed to find everything she needed to fulfill the requirements of the hazmat suit demanded by the Governor for a visit. She had a visor, overalls and even large boots that her shoes fit into (!) from the shops, her own latex gloves, a long silk scarf (borrowed from the visitor’s Lost and Found box) for a mask, and a shower cap for her head. She had put all the items in a box to keep them under her desk. She really didn’t want it all to be seen in the break room, and it wouldn’t fit in her locker. She was, at last, able to call Joan.
“Speak,” came the command. Vera was getting tired of that.
“Hi, Joan,” Vera started, then cut herself off before she could say “it’s me.”
The pause on the other end of the line was something else she was getting tired of. She plowed ahead, “I have the items you told me to get for protection so that I can come to your office for a visit.”
Pause. Then, “I see.”
“Uh…so can I visit you?” Vera asked nervously. She was going to be annoyed if she had gone through all of yesterday’s events to end up being told that she wasn’t going to be allowed in.
“Are you sure you have everything?” The Governor asked, all business.
Vera slumped a bit in her chair before answering, “Yes, I am. I have all of it. I have your list and I can check everything off and slip it under your door if you like.”
Joan missed the touch of sarcasm in Vera’s voice. “That won’t be necessary. Just shower and put yourself together, then take a photo and send it to me. I will be able to tell if you are adequately prepared from a photo, as well as your word.”
“A photo?” Vera said, almost not believing what had been asked of her. “You seriously want me to take a photo when I’m in that get up? With latex gloves on?”
“You can get dressed, take the photo, sterilize your phone, then wash your hands and put gloves on afterwards,” was the response.
Not bloody likely, Vera thought, but she kept that to herself. “I’ll be very contained, believe me.”
“Send the photo when you are ready, and I will make my assessment then,” Joan said, then the line went dead.
This visit was beginning to sound like it just wasn’t worth the effort, Vera thought to herself, then realized that wasn’t true. She had visited with the other staff, and chatted a bit with the inmates she felt comfortable with, but the truth was that she had very much missed the blossoming friendship that she had with Joan. She enjoyed her company, and the other woman had brought a lot into Vera’s life, and not just professionally. Vera had begun to feel like, despite the differences in their rank at work and Joan’s “quirkiness” (as Vera had come to think of it), there was the possibility of a real, lasting friendship forming. It was slow going getting to know Joan on a personal level, but it was something she really wanted to pursue. Plus, of course, she was really worried that something more than germaphobia could be wrong with the other woman.
She began by getting into her teal hoody and sweat pants in front of the assitant's desk outside of the Governor’s office. After that, she crawled into the overalls that were far too big. Then the boots over the sneakers, the shower cap, the silk scarf around her mouth and nose, then the welding mask. Vera was truly glad that no one was around to see her. She managed to take a photo, send it to Joan’s own phone, and then waited. It wasn’t a long wait, but the outfit made her feel hot, and not just a little ridiculous.
A text message came back: ‘That is sufficient. Wash your hands and put on the gloves. I will open my door, and you will enter as quickly as possible.’
Vera texted back, ‘I’ll use hand sanitizer. I don’t think I can get to the washroom and back in this get up.’
Response: ‘Alright. You will wash your hands when you’re in here.’
Vera put her phone away in a pocket in the overalls, sanitized her hands with the bottle of hand sanitizer she had with her, then put on the gloves. She started to move towards the Governor’s door when she realize that she couldn’t walk. Instead, she had to shuffle in an ungainly manner, and carefully, in order to move and not get caught up in the oversized boots and extra long legs of the overalls. She felt well beyond “ridiculous” at this point. She did, however, manage to make it to the door of Joan’s office, and waited again. She wasn’t sure if she should knock, as that might upset Joan because maybe the door had germs on it? If she stood there much longer, though, she’d be covered in sweat by the time she got in. The welder’s mask was getting rather heavy, too. And the rim around the shower cap was itchy. To knock or not to knock?
The question was mooted when the door opened a crack. Vera could see Joan looking out at her with one eye. Vera peered back. The door opened to allow her entrance, and Vera shuffled as best as she could to make it into the office before the Governor changed her mind.
Vera heard the door close – and lock, of course.
“Hold your breath,” the command came.
Vera held her breath, and was subject to a waterfall of some sort of spray all over her face mask, then the rest of her. Of course, she realized, Joan was spraying her down with some sort of disinfectant. Probably Lysol. It went on for some time, then she was told to turn around. She did, and the spraying continued on her back, over the backs of the boots, up to her arms, which she was then instructed to extend. Vera started to wonder just how toxic this was.
“Can you please stop now?” she asked,
“We’re done. You can turn around again,” was the response.
Vera did, and then realized that the face shield was so covered in whatever the spray had been that she could only see a blurry outline of Joan Ferguson. “Can I take this off now?” she asked, pointing to the face mask.
There was no answer. Vera sighed and slumped a bit, then heard something she had never heard before. It was low at first and a bit staccato, as though someone was trying to do something they were unfamiliar with. Then it built. It wasn’t long before Vera could hear full on laughter. “ Great. Now I’m being laughed at, for doing what you told me to do,” she thought.
Vera waited for the laughter to be over, but that didn’t really happen. Joan continued to laugh, at times gasping for breath, bending over, even grabbing the edge of her desk to hold herself up. Vera saw all this through her disinfectant blur, but it was obvious that Joan was having a great time. The stress of being locked up and the fear of the illness must have gotten to Joan to the point where she was needing to laugh at something. Then Vera saw a quick flash of light. Joan had her phone out, and had taken a picture of Vera, laughing the whole time.
By the time Joan was down to intermittent laughter and still gasping for air, Vera couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m going to take this off now, okay?” she asked.
Joan managed a choked “Y-yes…” before more laughter and gulping for air.
Vera reached up and removed the visor first, and was able to get a good look at her boss and friend. Joan was holding herself up at the desk, still laughing, but less so now. She had her uniform on, even her jacket, which she wore open, with the collar loose and without the tie. Her hair was simply braided and the long, lustrous, black hair that was shot through with silver strands hung down her back in what appeared a comfortable fashion. Joan was also wearing her regular work shoes, even though she could have been more comfortable just in socks or bare feet in her own office.
The office itself was much as usual. The big difference was that there was a cot folded up and leaning against the file cabinets opposite the desk. There were sheets and a blanket neatly folded and left on top of the cabinets along with neatly arranged packaged food containers. The biggest difference in the place was the smell. It wasn’t fowl, but it smelled of living in tight quarters rather than paper, clean carpet, and other office odors. The place always had a faint disinfectant smell, but that was now a really strong scent, and Vera really wanted to get away from it. She peeled off the shower cap, tried to step out of the boot and nearly lost her balance when she had to stand on one foot to try and get the other out of the boot but leave the shoe on. It wasn’t easy. Joan started laughing harder again. Vera gave up and sat on the ground, yanked off one boot, then the other, and stood up again to remove the overalls and, finally, the gloves.
Joan stopped laughing. She became serious quite suddenly, and pointed in the direction of the office’s private washroom, moving her hand to indicate that Vera needed to move immediately. “Get in there and wash your hands, right away,” the Governor’s voice commanded.
The room was more than just a washroom: it had a bar fridge, cupboards for dishes, towels and whatnot, an electric kettle, and now, the extra things Joan had needed for living in the office. There were extra towels, a bed sheet and a few items of clothing and other essentials – cotton shirt, black underwear, socks, etc. Everything was laid out carefully, each item exactly where Joan wanted it to be. Even a tube of toothpaste looked like it had to be laid out as though it were a needle in a compass, pointing directly north and south.
Vera used the utilitarian soap that was laid out by the sink, then had to ask the basic question, “Where do I dry my hands?”
“Turn around. On the towel rack next to the door you will see a hand towel and facecloth. I put those out for you,” was the reply.
“Oh, thank you,” Vera responded.
“You’re welcome. If you find the soap dries your hands out, then you can use some of my hand lotion in the bottle to the right of the sink,” Joan said, sounding as though this were a normal thing to do every day.
The hand lotion was rich, without a label as it was in the kind of bottle one uses for travel. It smelled like Joan, which made sense. It wasn’t a strong scent, but more lingering, a soft, natural undertone to the rest of the odours in the place. Vera realized that this was how Joan smelled in general, and the fact that she could wear the same scent on her own hands really seemed both odd and comforting. It also made her feel something else, something stronger towards the taller woman; it was rather heady to be surrounded by the scent of Joan Ferguson.
Vera turned and walked out the door of the bathroom only to be greeted by Joan pointing her can of disinfectant spray at her again.
“No! Please don’t, there’s already too much of that stuff in the air in here right now,” Vera pleaded.
Joan slowly lowered her arm, the offending cylinder pointing its nozzle more and more downwards.
“Very well, Vera,” Joan said, this time without a hint of amusement, “We can put it away for now.” And with that, Joan turned and placed it on her desk, near her pencils for easy access.
“Just what exactly is that stuff?” Vera asked, concern for how much Joan had been breathing in for days on end prompting the question rather than her recent shower in it.
“Alky Dimethyl Benzyl Ammonium Saccharinate, mostly,” Joan replied, without having to look at the canister's label.
It took Vera a moment to process the words before she let out a rather shocked, “What?!? Isn’t that toxic? How much have you been using? Have you been breathing it in all this time?”
“Relax, Vera. It’s a generic version of Lysol. Certainly you know of that,” It wasn’t a question.
Vera relaxed somewhat, but was still obviously concerned. “Well, it still can’t be good.”
“There are worse things than breathing in a disinfectant, for instance, breathing in Covid 19,” was the reply.
Vera had to realize that Joan was right, but that she also had a phobia, and would go into overkill with this sort of thing. The smell of the stuff was drowning out everything else in the office.
“Can we at least open the window?” Vera asked, hoping for some relief from the chemical smell.
“I haven’t opened it since lock down,” Joan said, as though this was all perfectly normal, “isn’t that obvious to you? Why would I take that chance?”
“I understand that, but we now know the virus doesn’t just float up into the air when there’s no one below to be a carrier. No one is out in the yard anymore, why not open it and get some fresh air in here?” Vera asked, the sound of pleading just starting to enter her voice at the end of the question.
Joan stared at Vera as though she’d been asked to jump out the window and fly around the building. ‘’Yes, Vera, but why take a chance?”
Vera spoke before thinking, “Because I can’t breathe in here. I’m finding the air too thick with the disinfectant.”
Joan kept staring for a moment longer, then dipped her head and indicated the window, “Very well, if you must. I would have thought you to have more will power than that, though.”
Vera didn’t roll her eyes at all, but she certainly wanted to. “It has nothing to do with willpower, it has to do with the density of the sanitizer molecules in the air that I’m trying to metabolize.” There, she thought, that ought to explain it thoroughly enough for Joan Ferguson. She then walked with purpose the few steps to the window and opened it as wide as she could, inhaling deeply the fresh air. Before she had the chance to turn around, a long arm reached past her head and grabbed the open window, closing it down to half of what Vera had opened it to.
“You’re kidding…” Vera said, under her breath.
“What would make you think that?” Joan said, standing back and looking down at her Deputy, a touch of annoyance in her voice.
“I’m sorry, I should have realized that you never kid,” Vera said, again with the desire to roll her eyes. This visit was going so well, she thought, sarcastically. All that preparation and anticipation was starting to seem to be for nothing. Rather than lose the visit, Vera decided to change the topic. She walked away from the window, away a bit from Joan, and sat in the chair in front of the Governor’s desk.
Joan crossed her arms and looked Vera up and down and had a small, humourless smile tug at the corners of her mouth. “You look like you’ve lost a bit of standing in this place.”
Vera looked down at her track suit, realizing how she must appear. She hadn’t considered more than the practicality of it before coming to the office. Now, she really had to acknowledge that there was no way to tell her apart from the prisoners in Wentworth.
“Um….it made sense to me,” the smaller woman said, her faced reddening at the thought of how Joan must see her now. “I…I thought it would be easier to wear the pants if I was putting the overalls over…all…of it. I mean, I didn’t want to have to bunch up a skirt,” she was going to leave it at that. No need for Joan to know that her uniform had been gummed up while she was trapped in a closet.
“I see, and you had no other clothes? Nothing of your own that wasn’t a skirt?” was the response of the Governor, fully the superior officer.
Vera felt again that this wasn’t what she had come to Joan’s office for. She wanted a personal visit, and now she was being dressed down because she had done what Joan had asked of her. After all, even if she hadn’t messed up her uniform, she might still have wanted pants for the silly protective gear that she had been made to wear.
“No, I did not. Is this such a big deal? I mean, I’m only going to be wearing the teals while I’m in here, with you. Once I go back out, I’ll get my uniform back on,” Vera was a little surprised at how strong her voice sounded.
Joan smiled that humourless smile again and said, “Fine, Vera, but if I feel the need to slot you, I many not be able to resist the temptation.”
“Very funny,” Vera replied, then settled herself in the chair a bit more. It looked as though Joan did kid once in a while after all.
This time, Joan smiled slightly with a touch of real humour, then seemed to remember why Vera was there and asked, “Would you like a cup of tea?”
Suddenly, the dynamic in the office changed. Joan was now being the host, and Vera was at last a visitor, not an object of ridicule nor an out of uniform Deputy. She sighed a bit with relief before saying, “That would be lovely.”
The taller woman nodded and headed to the back room and put the kettle on. “I have biscuits, too, if you’d like.”
“Oh, yes please. I think that would be nice.”
Joan disappeared in the back room, ran some water, and returned with the biscuits. “Monte Carlos, I’m afraid. I ran out of the ones I like, and these were all that came in.”
“Oh, that’s fine. I don’t mind a bit,” in truth, she was rather hungry, and anything would have sounded nice. Living on the cafeteria food for so long had left her feeling a bit off as far as food was concerned. A sugary treat sounded like a luxury. “The only person who may be upset is Boomer – she loves these things. I bet she’s missing them.”
“Jenkins?” Joan replied from the little room, though it wasn’t a question, “She’s lucky to be safe and sound in her cell block, as are the rest of them, and she hardly needs the extra calories.”
“Maybe, but the women are getting restless. It’s difficult for them, not moving to the cafeteria, work, the exercise yard. I feel sorry for them, really,” Vera replied.
Joan gathered up the plates and tea things as she said, “Really, Vera? You should be happy that we are doing all we can to keep them safe, being cooped up is not the worst thing they could be enduring right now. After all, I’ve managed in just this space.”
Vera took another quick look around the office. It was far too small for any person to be living in. True, it was roomier than a cell, but not nearly as big as the common area the women shared with about six to seven others. “I see your point,” she said, “It could be worse.”
“Yes, Vera, it could,” the taller woman said as she brought out the tray with the tea and Monte Carlos.
Vera almost salivated looking at the plate of biscuits.
“I’m sorry there’s no milk available, although I believe you take your tea black, correct?”
“Um…yes. I am happy with this,” Vera said, reaching for a Monte Carlo as Joan sat down in her Governor’s chair.
“I’ll be mother, hmm?” Joan asked, her voice smooth and in charge.
Vera nodded, and took the cup and saucer that was passed to her. She picked up a Monte Carlo and bit into it, enjoying the soft marshmallow feel in her mouth, as well as the sweet taste. “Oh, damn, these are good,” she managed, after swallowing.
Joan smiled as she lifted her cup to her mouth, licked her lips, and said, “Just as long as you enjoy it, Vera. I don’t mind sharing with you.”
Vera smiled and took another mouthful, then realized that what Joan had said implied that she didn’t like sharing with anyone, but that she herself was somehow special enough for Joan to happily do so with her. For some reason, this made Vera blush as she swallowed the next big bite of her biscuit.
Joan watched her eat with an intensity that made Vera start to feel like a sample in a petri dish. The smaller woman was always self-conscious, but Joan made her feel aware of herself in a way that no one else had; it was both embarrassing in a way and also complementary some how.
Vera returned the eye contact for as long as she could, then had to look down at the plate of Monte Carlos again. “Um…is it okay if I have another one?”
Joan smiled and paused in the act of lifting her teacup to her lips, “Of course. I wouldn’t have put them out if I didn’t think I could spare them.”
The petite woman took another biscuit, and closed her eyes as she bit into it. She really wanted to enjoy the flavour, and she also wanted to escape the visual scrutiny. When she opened her eyes again, Joan was still smiling, still watching and seemingly, waiting. Vera was beginning to feel a bit like a rabbit caught in an eagle’s gaze.
“Um… these are really good, thank you,” Vera said, trying break the spell.
“Yes, you said that already,” Joan replied. “How about we talk about something else?”
Vera’s head snapped up to look directly at Joan. This was the first time she had had the chance to ask that ever annoying question, “What would you like to talk about?” she said with a sly smile.
Joan didn’t seem to think anything of the question. Vera had hoped to get a better response, but the other woman just acted as though it were a perfectly natural way for conversation to flow. “How about chess?” Joan suggested.
“Uh…”
“Oh, Vera, please don’t tell me you don’t know how to play?” there was a tone more of pity than disappointment in Joan’s voice.
“I know how to play, but I’m not very good at it.” This she knew because she had only been able to play against her computer at the ‘easy’ setting. That summed up her entire experience with the game.
Joan set her teacup down. “Then it looks like I can mentor you on more things than our work. Would you like to play?”
“Sure – I guess, but can we please just have a bit of a visit first?”
Joan nodded. “Of course. What would you like to talk about?”
Vera ground her teeth just a little at that. Damn, but she hated that question. She also didn’t want to talk about chess, so at least there was that. She took a moment to think while Joan waited patiently, and then, without really thinking at all, simply said, “You.”
A bit startled, Joan sat back in her chair and stated flatly, “There’s not much to tell. You know where I worked before here, you know that I lived with my Dad before he died and then was on my own and you know where I live now. You really do know more about me than anyone else here. What else could you possibly want to know?”
It was a bit startling that Joan thought that those words really did sum her up, as though that was all there was to the other woman. Vera couldn’t just say, “I find you fascinating, and I want to know everything about you.” Theirs didn’t seem to be that kind of relationship. She could, however, say, “Do you have any hobbies? Besides chess, I mean?”
“Chess is not a hobby for me, it’s a game, something I can indulge in with another person if I so wish. As far as hobbies go, you know I fence. I enjoy listening to music, particularly opera, I also read a great deal, and I like to watch documentaries. Learning is important to me, but you know these things.”
Yes, Vera did know these things. Why did Joan Ferguson always make conversation so awkward? Nothing for it but to forge ahead, she decided. “Have you been watching documentaries while here? On your computer, I mean?”
Joan tilted her head sideways a touch, as though looking at someone who was just not very intelligent. Damn it, but Joan could convey so much with just a look or slight movement. When she spoke, it was carefully, as though she were trying to make what she said extra clear so that Vera could understand her. “Yes, as the computer is the only means I have for such things. Really, Vera, where else would I have seen anything at all?”
Vera sighed. This was going to be a long afternoon, it seemed. “Yeah, sorry. I know that wasn’t needed. But what have you watched?” she plowed ahead with her question.
“I watch whatever I can on corona viruses, as well as nature documentaries. I also enjoy history, so I have watched some documentaries on various events. I am also interested in medical information, and I have enjoyed a few shows about the history of art. Would you like to see a documentary?”
Vera nodded, as she was tired of searching for things to talk about, and Joan wasn’t going to be forthcoming on anything further about herself. She watched as Joan’s graceful hands turned the monitor towards her, then moved her chair over to sit next to Vera. She took a seat after she had loaded the documentary and had pressed ‘play.’
“This one is particularly fascinating. It shows the way that organs can be replaced in the body. The focus is on a heart transplant and the ramifications, but other things are discussed as well.”
“Uh…okay, sure,” Vera said. The fact was, she didn’t really like watching such things, but she was willing to sit there and watch it if that was Joan’s choice.
At least, she was happy to do so until a rib spreader was described… then used. Joan seemed interested in the procedure, but the exposed heart beating on the screen while blood was being suctioned away was a bit much for poor Vera. She was greatly relieved when the phone rang and Joan quickly got up and paused the video before answering the phone.
“Speak,” Joan answered, “I see. Henderson and Van De Carr? How long? Do we know for sure?”
Vera watched as Joan continued speaking and sounded more and more concerned. When the conversation ended abruptly, Joan carefully put down the receiver, picked up a pen, opened a notebook and made a couple of quick notes.
“What’s going on?” the Deputy Governor asked her boss.
Joan put the pen down and took a deep breath, “It appears that we may have an outbreak in Wentworth. Two women from cell block J have what appear to be Covid 19 symptoms.”
“Oh, God…” Vera said under her breath.
“Yes. I guess we are going to have to get used to being in each other’s company for much longer than we expected,” Joan stated matter-of-factly.
“What?” Vera said, the implications of Joan’s words setting in.
Joan crossed her arms and said, in a voice that could not be argued with, “You cannot leave this room: it isn’t safe.”

Vera tried to argue her way out of it, but short of trying to sneak out when Joan was asleep or in the washroom, there was no way Vera was going leave the Governor’s office. She had no doubt that the taller, stronger woman would physically stop her from going out the door. It was frustrating, and aggravating, but it was also kind of sweet. The fact that Joan would not be exposed to Covid 19 if Vera left convinced her that the other woman was sincere in wanting to protect her. This was a new feeling for Vera. Her Mother had never wanted to protect her, just have her at home to boss around. Fletch had stood up to Will for her, but that had felt very different. Here, Joan wanted her to be “safe,” to take no risks. It was silly, really, as Vera could have been exposed anytime she was near J block, and Joan would actually have been safer had Vera left, or so it seemed. So, she eventually had to accept that she wasn’t going anywhere.
The living arrangements would be awkward. Joan had packaged food that would be enough for the two of them for a few days, so the two of them would have to make do with that. More of a problem was the sleeping situation; there was only the cot, and a couple of wool blankets, a single sheet and one pillow. Joan could have asked for another cot and whatnot, but she was not willing to take the risk. Vera even volunteered to help sanitize everything that came through the door, but all that did was elicit a look of incredulity. When it came to germs, Joan wasn’t about to trust anyone else with the precautions.
“I have been thinking about this a great deal,” Joan suddenly announced when the two of them were finishing their rather meager dinner of packaged cheese and crackers, followed by two more Monte Carlos, “I think you should take the cot. I will sleep on my desk with blankets folded up under me for some cushioning.”
This was most generous, and also a tad unreasonable. Vera could not see the taller woman being able to fit on the desk, let alone get comfortable lying on wool blankets. “I’m not sure that will work. You’d just hang over the edge of the desk. I think it would fit me better.”
Joan looked surprised and said, “That’s very generous of you, Vera, but hear me out: I will take the blankets and the pillow. You can wear the teals, and cover yourself with the sheet. That way, I will have enough cushioning and you will have the comfort of the cot. I also tend to sleep on my side, so there will be no problem with my ‘fitting’ onto the desk one way or the other. Really, what other option do we have?”
“I don’t know,” Vera sighed, “maybe I could sleep on the desk? Won’t you be cold with only your blouse and jacket?”
“Uh-uh. I have a coat here as well, my trench coat. I’ll use that to cover myself,” Joan said practically.
Vera decided that they may as well try Joan’s plan. After all, the other woman was right – what choice did they have if they weren’t going to have anything else brought in?
After an evening of watching two more documentaries, one about knee joint replacement and the other about a man who was infected with a unique kind of fungus that made him look like a tree, Vera was worn out. She was going to have to suggest movies, or other documentaries that were a little less discomfiting, or even just give in and play chess with someone she wouldn’t have a chance against. Truthfully, she didn’t want Joan to know just how bad a player she was, so she had avoided the game since the earlier mention of it.
Joan had left the washroom to Vera, and the smaller woman finished up with her nightly washing and tooth brushing (It turned out that Joan always had at least two extra toothbrushes stored away in her washroom) while Joan set up the cot. There was no dental floss, which surprised Vera, but everything else she could want was there. She used the hand lotion again, and once more enjoyed the lovely scent and feel of it. When she left the washroom, Joan had the cot set up and stood over it, her right hand on her chin, her left supporting the right elbow, and looked as though she were dealing with an insurmountable problem.
“Why the consternation?” Vera asked.
“I’m not quite sure where to put this. Human beings don’t like to sleep with their heads facing a door, but if I put it where I normally have had the cot, were I to get up in the night to use the facilities, you would be bothered by the light. In other positions, the cot would either be a tripping hazard for me, or you wouldn’t be able to roll over without hitting a cabinet or a wall. I think I will put your head facing a way from the door. That way you will be bothered less by the psychological implications. Unless sleeping with your head towards the washroom will be a problem?” It was more of a statement than a question, but Joan waited for the answer anyway.
“Sure, no problem,” Vera said cheerfully. Once again, she was rather flattered by how much thought Joan had put into her comfort.
Joan finished moving the cot to where she wanted to plant it, then stood back and gestured for Vera to lay down. It wasn’t comfortable, not really, Vera discovered. She found it harder than her own mattress, and everything was sloped towards the middle, and when she first sat down, the hard metal pole really was a surprise on the backs of her thighs.
“How is that?” Joan asked after Vera lay down.
“Fine, thanks,” Vera lied. She wasn’t about to let Joan know of any discomfort. After all, what Joan was going to be dealing would be much less comfortable.
Vera lay on the cot and turned her head to watch Joan set up her own bed. She had already moved everything off of the desk and carefully stowed it on her filing cabinets on either side of the room, and she pushed put the desktop computer away from the desk itself. As she had mentioned earlier, she folded up the wool blankets and placed them ever so carefully but quickly on the desk. She fluffed up the pillow a bit, put her hands on her hips and nodded, then grabbed something off her Governor’s chair and was next to Vera in two strides.
“Do you want to do this or shall I?” she asked the smaller woman as she brandished the single cotton sheet.
“Oh, well, since I’m already lying down,” Vera said with a smile.
Joan nodded, shook out the sheet and put it over Vera, doubling it so it would be at least a bit warmer than if it were wrapped all around her. Vera felt both comforted and nervous to have Joan this physically close to her. The bigger woman quickly had her tucked in, pushing the sheet under her all around as though Vera needed to be swaddled like a baby. Her face was just a few centimeters from Vera’s when she tucked in the shoulders. Vera discovered that Joan’s hair had a lovely scent, much like the hand lotion, but different somehow. Whatever she used, it was a bit intoxicating. Or maybe the scent had nothing to do with it, and it was part of being so close to Joan. It didn’t matter which – Vera just inhaled and enjoyed the experience.
Joan stood up, so tall over the prone figure on the cot, and surprised Vera when she said, “What shampoo do you use? It has a pleasant smell.”
“Um… Just something from the drug store. A moisturizing one that smells of strawberries and kiwi fruit, I think…” Somehow, having had Joan that close to her had driven simple things like the brand of her shampoo right out of her head. She was struck by the question, having just been thinking the same about Joan.
“I see. Well, it’s pleasant, whatever it is,” Joan said.
Vera couldn’t help but watch Joan climb up onto the desk, cover herself with her trench coat, and turn out the only light left on: the desk lamp that was currently sitting on the Governor’s chair.
“Good night, Vera,” Joan said as the room fell darker.
“Good night, Joan,” Vera replied.
The room never really was very dark. The sulphur lights from outside the window shone in. It was like trying to sleep in a cell. The cot was a bit hard, still. The noises were less obnoxious than in the break room, but still different than what Vera was used to. She lay there in the dark, thinking about the afternoon and evening. If she had known she would have been trapped in the office with Joan, would she still have visited the Governor? She wasn’t honestly sure, but felt that she likely would have. Being on the other side of the door was roomier, but not a lot better. Okay, maybe cafeteria food was better than a diet of prepackaged snacks, she’d give in on that one. And having a shower rather than a sponge bath in a sink was nicer. Also, there was more to watch on her computer that she would enjoy. There were more people to talk to, there was work to be done which at least kept her occupied, and… Well. The only real advantage to being where she ended up was that Joan was there. Somehow, that made up for everything else she was missing. Was she really that needy for a friend? Yeah, she thought, she probably was. But why Joan? There were easier people to get along with, at least personally if not professionally, but the honest answer was that she liked being with Joan, period. The other woman was quirky at best, hard to talk with, extremely private to the point of the ridiculous, full of odd ideas and phobias, yet still…
Vera heard Joan turn around on the desk. Perhaps it wasn’t at all comfortable? There was then silence again for a few moments, then the sound of the woman moving around again. Silence again. Then what seemed a frustrated sigh, and more movement.
“Joan?” Vera said quietly.
“Yes?” was the reply.
“Are you not able to get to sleep?”
“No. Obviously, you aren’t either. We will just have to adapt,” an exasperated tone was creeping in to Joan’s usually smooth voice.
“We could switch,” Vera suggested. “You’re used to the cot, and I’m not used to the desk or the cot, so you could probably get some sleep.”
“Thank you, but I prefer this as we are both starting from the same point of lack of comfort,” replied Joan, as though that was a perfectly normal way to think.
“Uh… Okay.”
“Good night, Vera.”
“Good night, Joan.”
It wasn’t a good night for either of them, and the next morning came with the light of dawn entering the office. Given a choice, Vera preferred to sleep longer, but that was pretty moot when she hadn’t been sleeping at all. She had heard Joan moving about a fair bit during the night, and thought that perhaps they should pass the time by talking, then remembered that she would probably be asked what she wanted to talk about and that stopped her in her tracks. That question was beyond frustrating.
Vera turned her head to see Joan sit up on the desk and slowly move to put her long legs on the carpet. Joan had slept in her underpants and cotton shirt, which seemed not to have become wrinkled overnight. She probably wouldn’t allow her clothes to wrinkle, Vera thought to herself.
“Are you okay?” Vera asked, after hearing Joan grunt as she stepped down and stretched.
“I am perfectly okay,” she replied.
Vera sat up and struggled to get off the cot. The hard sides were a slight obstacle in the task. “It’s just that you sound like you had stiffened up overnight,” she said, becoming aware of her own body complaining.
Joan bent fully over, her palms flat on the carpet, her hair hanging down all around her head. “Ah, yes,” she said, in between breathing fully in and out, “I certainly did. I do not recommend sleeping on a desk to anyone, and I think my age is making it harder for me than it would have been in the past. One tends to forget that the body has some new limitations as one grows older.”
Vera smiled at that. “You’re not much older than I am, and you certainly don’t appear to have a lot of ‘limitations,’” she said as she watched Joan stretch up towards the ceiling, arms reaching up and then out and slowly down.
“I’m certainly in better shape than most women my age, but I have always been in good shape and intend to keep it that way,” Joan said, moving down to the floor to do her own version of a salute to the sun.
Vera decided not to be left out, or look as though she were out of shape, so she began to copy Joan’s actions. She got down on the floor, placed her hands in position for the salute to the sun, and stretched as best she could. She did very well until she went to stand up, pushed herself with one arm, and suddenly felt her shoulder seize up. She sucked her breath in fast with the pain, immediately getting Joan’s attention.
Joan looked at Vera as the smaller woman grabbed her left shoulder with her right hand, “It appears that I am the one who should be asking if you’re okay. What happened?”
Vera worked a bit on her shoulder, trying not to show that she was in much pain. It was not a big deal, it would relax soon, she kept telling herself. “Uh…nothing, really, I just pulled my shoulder a bit. I’m not used to the cot…” she said weakly, trying not to appear so in front of Joan. It wasn’t working.
Joan walked over and picked up the guest chair that had been moved overnight and commanded, “Sit down. I can help you with this.”
Vera moved over to the chair and sat. She really did feel a bit foolish, but the damn thing hurt. If Joan could help, then she was willing to give it a try. She sat upright, put her hands in her lap, and waited. It was a bit of a wait. Joan had gone into the little washroom and came back with a wash cloth folded up and placed it on Vera’s shoulder. It was hot, and Vera reacted a bit with surprise.
“Just relax. I’m putting the heat on it for a moment to start to loosen the cramp,” Joan stated practically.
Vera relaxed and let the warmth, such as it was, seep into her ache as much as she could. She soon felt the cloth removed, and Joan dried the damp off of her shoulder with a hand towel. She was gone briefly to put the items back where they belonged (not doubt positioned perfectly in their appropriate places) and returned to stand right behind the chair. She placed her hands on Vera’s shoulders and began manipulating the muscles. Vera reacted a bit when it felt too rough, but Joan just shushed her, and went a bit more gently.
It didn’t take long for Vera to feel the knot relaxing, and it was an immense relief. Joan’s strong hands continued to work, moving towards her neck, up to the back of her skull and down again. It felt very good and very soothing. Vera sunk just a bit into the chair.
“You feel better now, don’t you?” Joan said, in her deep, smooth voice as she leaned down to whisper it in Vera’s ear.
Suddenly Vera began to feel something more than just relaxation. She became acutely aware of Joan’s warm presence right behind her, and that the presence was only in her shirt and underwear. The younger woman felt Joan’s hair sweep across her shoulder as she stood up straight again. Vera closed her eyes, and realized that she could smell the pleasant scent that came from Joan’s hand lotion, mixed with something more. She leaned back further into the chair, and let her head fall back. Joan’s hands then followed Vera’s indications, moving along Vera’s temples in a circular motion, then rubbing her thumbs back and forth across Vera’s forehead.
“Mmm…that’s nice,” Vera said, almost forgetting that the woman behind her was her superior officer. This was a friend, someone she could trust with her pain, her shoulder, her forehead, her… She had to stop the train of thought before it showed on her face. Too late, she realized, as she felt her cheeks and even her ears redden. It didn’t help that Joan leaned down again, and whispered in her ear, “I’m glad that I could help.” Then she turned and walked away, leaving Vera to sit in the chair and ponder what had just happened and why she felt the way she did.
This feeling was both uncomfortable and intriguing. She turned in the chair and watched as Joan came back out of the washroom, in her uniform pants, with her jacket over her tucked-in white shirt. She looked really different, yet the way Vera was used to seeing her. She watched Joan walking back, thinking how well she wore that uniform and how her hips were accentuated by the perfectly fitting pants. She quickly looked down at the carpet when she realized she was staring, and that Joan could see it.
“Breakfast?” Joan asked, as she pulled her hair into a ponytail.
“Um…sure. That would be nice,” Vera said, trying to ensure that her voice was steady. It almost was, it seemed.
“Alright, but after we check the headlines, hm?” Joan stated rather than asked. She sat down in her chair and put her laptop on her desk. “I need to know what’s going on.”
Joan checked various news sites, and even The World Health Organization page. She frowned, leaned forward and scrolled through the pages, giving Vera a summary of what she saw. The news wasn’t good. Italy was hard hit, as they knew, but Australia was suffering too, and there were never, ever enough security measures against Covid 19 for Joan’s satisfaction.
“You know, Vera, even if we could go anywhere in the world, we wouldn’t be safe from this thing. It’s everywhere. I have to believe that staying here, right here, is the safest thing possible,” the tall woman said, after sitting back and crossing her arms.
“I think we would be pretty safe outside of this office, too. After all, we have done all the proper recommended safety measures, and – “ Vera was cut off by Joan waving her hand in the air and glaring at her.
“No. Part of the problem is that we don’t know enough about this thing. We don’t know exactly how long it lives on surfaces. We don’t know if it’s fully aerosolized, we don’t know if it can be contracted through any number of means by which human beings get sick. I would much rather stay safe in here than sorry out there. We can do our jobs from here, fortunately,” Joan said definitively.
Vera tried not to sound like she was arguing, but she did feel she had to make her point, “I don’t think I am doing my job properly, though. I really ought to be seen by the C.O.’s and women alike, and I should be moving around, checking on those who are locked down. I don’t have to go near medical nor the cells where the illness has been. I could leave, and continue working, and you can still stay here.”
Vera watched Joan’s face become pale. She’d never seen Joan simply blanche before. As quickly as it had left her face, the colour came back, but it almost looked like a blush this time. Her words held no hint of the emotions that had affected her appearance, “No. You are staying here. With me. I won’t argue about it. You are not to leave this office until I deem it safe, is that understood?”
Vera felt both a bit flattered and angry at such an order. “I don’t think you can make me to stay her indefinitely. I think that is a bit beyond what you can ask.”
“This is my prison, and I make the rules. If I give a command, it’s to be obeyed, whether you like what it says or not,” Joan said, her voice growing firmer as she spoke. Then she looked over towards the window and said, in a softer tone, “I can order you to stay. These are circumstances beyond my control when it comes to the order for lock down and dealing with a plague, so my authority also allows for unusual decisions under the circumstances. I hope that you are willing to stay, as that is what I want, and that I don’t have to make it an order, but I will if you force my hand.”
“You ‘want’ me to stay?” Vera heard her voice sound surprised by this.
Joan’s head snapped back to look directly at Vera again, “Of course I do. Neither of us knows what will happen to you out there. It’s my job to keep everyone here as safe as possible. I can’t have the entire staff with me in here, but I can keep you safe.”
“So you only want me here for the sake of my safety?” Vera asked. She hadn’t really expected any other reason, but a part of her had hoped for something more personal.
“Yes, of course, what other reason could there be?”
Very sighed a bit, “Nothing, I guess.”
Joan nodded and rose from her chair. “Now, let’s see what we have for breakfast,” she said, as she made her way to the smaller of the two rooms in her office.
After a meager breakfast of tea, crackers and peanut butter in a snack package, and raisins, the two women decided to try and get some work done. Vera had financial and staffing details to work on for the Governor’s approval, and Joan was going through the work she referred to as the “daily minutiae” of her rank. Joan had her computer at her desk to work on, and had let Vera use her laptop, but it soon became obvious that a laptop was only named that because some tech genius thought it would sound good. The position of sitting with it on her lap was just not very comfortable after awhile. Vera felt her shoulder, and then her neck, start to object to the necessary position for working on a computer in her lap. Also, the thing was getting quite warm. Briefly Vera wondered how flame retardant the teal sweatpants she was wearing were.
Vera sat back and heaved a sigh. Then, “Would it be okay if I put this on your desk?” she asked.
“I’ll have to a move a few things,” Joan said, sounding far more irritable about that than Vera felt was necessary, but she did indeed start moving things.
Vera pulled her chair up close to Joan’s desk, then realized there was no room for her legs. Awkward as it was, she sat “side saddle” as best she could. She was self conscious about being so close to Joan, which made her try harder to lose herself in her work. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Joan spoke.
“Could you please type more quietly?” Joan said, only looking at Vera when the smaller woman squeaked and jumped in her chair. “Did I startle you?”
“Obviously,” Vera said.
Joan made a noise of amusement through her nose, then returned to her earlier request. “I need you to type more quietly.”
“What?”
“Did I stutter? Your typing is too loud and aggravating. Maybe try a lighter touch with a better rhythm. That may make it easier to cope with.”
“Um…okay,” Vera was clearly taken aback by Joan’s statement, but she certainly didn’t want to aggravate the other woman. She set to work trying to type rhythmically, but that was virtually impossible as she was transferring numbers between pages, not writing proper sentences. She made a determined try to not hit the keys so hard, but she wasn’t used to this computer, and made errors, which got her a bit flustered and then she would type a bit harder again. When that happened the first time, she looked up to see Joan wince slightly. The next time, Joan tightened her jaw and pursed her lips. The third time, the Governor was already looking at Vera before the smaller woman had a chance to look up.
“Sorry,” Vera said quietly, trying once again to type as lightly as possible.
Joan finished her short session of glaring and went back to her work. The morning continued, and it wasn’t really comfortable at all for Vera. She was sitting in an awkward place and had to move around a fair bit every so often, which would elicit a glare or flared nostrils or a grumble each time. Now it was Vera’s turn to feel irritated. After all, surely Joan knew that she was uncomfortable where she was, and that she was trying her best. Perhaps that was why Joan rarely said anything, just kept reacting and trying to work on her own. It was, Vera thought, like trying to make a sandwich while sitting next to a hungry lion – one mistake, and she’d lose her arm. Or both arms, as Joan seemed to want to disable her ability to type.
“I have an idea,” Joan said suddenly, interrupting Vera’s train of thought.
Startled, Vera yelped and jumped again in her seat.
“Try not to be so surprised, Vera, I am here and you know I can speak,” Joan said, the sarcasm dripping off of her words.
“I was concentrating. I’m not used to being interrupted when everything is so quiet,” Vera said, defending her reaction.
“It’s hardly quiet…” Joan started, then stopped herself. “Here’s my idea – why don’t you work using my desk in the afternoon, and I’ll only use it in the morning. Would that work, do you think?”
Vera all but sighed with relief, “You mean it? That would be great. I’m finding this awkward.”
“To say the least. I am willing to give it a try if you are willing to give me back my seat should anything come up that I need to deal with,” Joan replied.
“Of course!” Vera said with enthusiasm, “This will be so much better. I’ll finish off the report when I can sit at the desk, and I won’t be annoying you in the meantime.”
“Exactly.”
Vera smiled and thanked Joan again, then turned off the laptop after saving her work. She was so delighted to be able to move and get out of that awkward position. She carefully closed the laptop and left it on Joan’s desk. She moved around the office, stretching a bit. She went and used the bathroom. When she came out, she was hit with realization that, without a computer, she had nothing to do. Nothing. There wasn’t even a tv available. She walked over to the window and looked out for a bit, taking in what fresh air she could. She went over to the where the cot had been before Joan had insisted on folding it up for the day, and checked the carpet for any lost jewelry she might have shed. She knew she hadn’t been wearing any, but it couldn’t hurt to check. Then she walked to the washroom and looked around there. Everything was neat and orderly, of course. She walked out and looked over the office again. The filing cabinets on the wall opposite Joan’s desk were just at the right height to walk her fingers along. She went to one end, then back, two fingers walking left, right, left… She looked around the room carefully, trying not to bother Joan, while searching for some sort of reading material. She didn’t see anything. She undid the zipper on the hoody a bit as she was getting warm, and the hoody was all she was wearing besides her bra on her upper half. She tried to get the zipper as low as it could go while still being decent. Maybe that was not warm enough? She put the zipper up. Too warm? Maybe it would be too warm later? Maybe put the zipper midway? She was actually surprised by how well made the zipper was, after all, prisoners’ uniforms didn’t have to have real quality. She ran the zipper up and down several times just to make sure it really was that well made. Zip. Zip zip. Zip zip zip….

“Enough!” Joan said from her desk, hitting her hands on the top of it at the same time.
Vera jumped and squeaked a bit after being startled yet again. “Don‘t keep doing that!” she yelped.
Joan pushed herself back from her desk and stood up. “This isn’t working,” she stated flatly.
Vera would have loved to have been the sort of person who could respond with ‘no shit, Sherlock,’ but she was never going to be able to say that to someone like Will, let alone Joan.
“Let’s take a break, do something else, then see what happens, hmm? We can have lunch, too, as it’s nearly that time,” Joan said, lightening the atmosphere.
“Thank you, yes,” Vera responded, although she was not looking forward to another packaged snack pack.
Joan turned her computer around, and then brought her Governor’s chair to Vera’s side of the desk. She went to the smaller room and came back with a few things, including a small package of Pringle’s chips, a package of dried veggie chips, small Baby Bell individual cheeses and fruit jellies. She handed the Pringle’s to Vera and stated, “These are yours. They came as part of an order, but I don’t eat such things.”
Vera was only too glad to take them. Joan set out the other things for their lunch carefully on the two corners of the desk, indicating which was Vera’s by position, then started a search for something on her computer.
“Here. Let’s watch this together. The screen should be large enough for you to read the subtitles,” she said while determining the best spot for the computer to sit for both of them to see the screen.
“Okay,” Vera agreed happily. Finally, something they could do together that wasn’t work related.
Joan sat down after finding what she was looking for. “There are other versions on video, but I prefer the Metropolitan Opera’s version of Turandot.”
Oh. Goody. An opera. Vera realized that she should have expected that rather than a regular movie or tv show. Well, at least it was better than being annoying while bored, she conceded to herself.
The overture had hardly started when Joan said, “This isn’t working. I can’t hear the music well enough. It’s bad enough listening to it like this. Here, do you mind if we put our chairs closer together?”
“No, not at all,” Vera replied, and stood up and moved her chair at the same time as Joan moved hers. Now their chair arms were touching, and neither could get a better position to hear or see the opera. Then Vera realized yet another thing: Joan wasn’t eating. She was just watching the computer screen. If she herself started eating, particularly the Pringle’s, she’d be making noise right in the other woman’s ear. So much for lunch…
However, it wasn’t long before Vera was engrossed in the show. She hadn’t expected to enjoy it so much, but the costumes, setting and make-up had grabbed her attention immediately, and the music held it. It was all exquisite, but the show stopping Nessun Dorma was beyond anything she had heard in some time. The piece was beautiful, and the words were heartbreaking. When that piece was over, she turned to look at Joan, to see if the other woman had reacted as she had. To Vera’s great surprise, a single tear was running down Joan’s cheek, and Joan didn’t even seem to notice it. Without even processing what she had seen, Vera felt her heart swell for the other woman, this person who seemed to be always in charge of everything, always completely in control. Yet, she couldn’t control her emotions enough to hold back that tear. This was perhaps the most endearing thing Vera had ever seen in another person. Joan’s concentration on the screen wasn’t altered, so Vera chose to say nothing and simply watch the rest of the show in quiet, sitting close to Joan Ferguson, the two of them experiencing the emotions the opera created, together. It was the most content Vera had felt since the entire lock down had started.

The rest of the day passed pleasantly enough. Vera had an opportunity to use Joan’s desk and computer and managed to get some work done after they had eaten lunch. They had been able to talk about Turandot, and that had been really good in Vera’s mind. Joan was knowledgeable, and Vera actually didn’t talk as much as ask questions. She didn’t want the other woman to realize how uneducated she was in such things, but she was eager to learn. Joan, it appeared, was quite happy to disseminate any and all knowledge she had on the topic of Puccini, and so the two had a happy close to the day. Neither one of them said “what do you want to talk about?” and for once, Vera was quite content with the topic. Shared experiences, it seemed, would be the making of their friendship outside of work.
Bed time was a different situation, though. Once again Joan set up the cot, but when it came to putting the wool blankets on the desk, she balked. Clearing off the desk had been no problem and placing the lamp that was the last to be turned out on the Governor’s chair worked fine, but setting it up further for the night seemed to bother her.
“Vera,” Joan called to the smaller woman who was had just finished brushing her teeth, “I don’t think this is going to work. I wasn’t able to get comfortable on the desk, I don’t see how you will be able to.”
Vera walked out the washroom and shrugged, “Well, it’s not like we have a lot of options. Since I’m smaller, I guess I may actually be more comfortable on the desk. I mean, I won’t have to stay curled up as much.”
“True as that may be, the fact is that you won’t have any real cushioning. You’re thin, and that means you’ll find the desk quite hard,” Joan replied.
“You’re thin, too,” Vera said, wanting the other woman to know that her figure was appreciated.
“I am exactly what I should be. You are on the thin to skinny side, and you may have problems that I didn’t because of that,” Joan said, looking Vera up and down as if to confirm her diagnosis.
Vera was surprised and a little taken aback. “‘Skinny’? You think I’m too thin?” she asked.
“You are what you are. And yes, I think you’re a tad on the ‘too thin’ side,” Joan stated the facts as she saw them.
“Oh, Joan,” Vera said, which raised an eyebrow on the other woman’s face, “Thank you. No one has ever told me that before…”
Joan then tilted her head to match her facial expression and replied, “It’s neither a complement nor a criticism.”
“Well, it was lovely to hear. My Mo…. Uh, I was always told that I was too fat,” Vera said, her eyes dropping to the floor.
“Your neurosis about your body aside,” Joan continued, back to her original topic, “I am concerned about the sleeping arrangements.”
Vera snapped her head back up and said, “It’s not a neurosis….”
“I don’t care what it is,” Joan said, keeping the subject where she wanted it, “I can’t think of a better sleeping arrangement. Do you have any ideas?”
“Yeah, you could let me out and I could go back to sleep on the couch in the break room…” Vera replied, with petulance, like a toddler who had been reprimanded. She was stinging a bit from the ‘neurosis’ comment.
“You are noT taking a risk like thaT,” Joan stated with her Governor’s tone coming out fully in her voice.
Vera sighed and walked over to the desk. She dutifully climbed up on it, laid down, and realized that Joan was absolutely right: there was no way she was going to be comfortable, and that this would be another long night. Joan once again covered her with the sheet, and tucked her in firmly all around.
“What you doing that for?” Vera asked, feeling the sheet become more and more binding.
“Since you are willing to stay on the desk for my sake, the least I can do is ensure that you are as comfortable as possible,” Joan replied.
“Thank you, but I don’t think I can even move like this,” said Vera, wiggling a bit to test her theory. She was right - Joan had tucked her in so well she felt confined.
“Nonsense. You’ll be better off for it,” said Joan, in a voice that couldn’t be argued with.
Vera just sighed, and turned her head to watch Joan put herself to bed. She watched Joan carefully take off her slacks, fold them, and hang them over the chair that had been moved to one side of the office. Once again, the smaller woman was impressed by Joan’s form. She couldn’t help herself, just looking at Joan was pleasing in a way that Vera just wasn’t used to. She watched Joan get onto the cot and cover herself in her trench coat. Joan was lying on her back, her long braid moved to sit exactly in the preferred place down over her right shoulder and onto her chest. Vera was sorry that the trench coat covered so much of the other woman up, then realized she was staring again. She quickly turned her eyes to the ceiling, just as Joan had.
“Well?” Joan said, her resonant voice sounding expectant.
“Uh… ‘well’ what?” Vera asked.
Joan took a deep breath. “Notice anything different about this situation from last night?”
“Uh…what?”
“You can’t be serious,” was the reply.
Vera tried to figure out what Joan was getting at, but her mind had been so full of her feelings about seeing the tall woman’s long legs and figure that she wasn’t thinking of anything else. She didn’t want to let on that she was distracted, but she also didn’t want to look stupid. Joan must have seen her staring, she realized, embarrassment creeping into her system and making her feel both hot and cold at the same time. She didn’t know what to say without making the situation worse for herself.
“Um….” was all that Vera could come up with.
“Sometimes I wonder about you,” Joan said, clearly irritated.
“I’m sure you do,” Vera said. Honestly, that Joan could have her feeling so many emotions in such a short time was getting confusing.
“What are you looking at?” the deeper voice asked.
Vera thought that a very odd question, but caught off guard, all she could do was be honest, “The ceiling.”
“And what should you be looking at?”
Now this was getting weird, Vera thought. Did Joan want her to keep staring at her long, elegant figure? Did she miss being stared at? Or was something else going on? Again, she came up with the honest answer, “I don’t know.”
Vera looked over at Joan as she saw her lift up her trench coat, put her legs over the side of the cot, and stand up. Vera couldn’t help but notice that Joan wore simple, but elegant, black panties. She watched as the other woman walked over to the desk and look down at her.
As she really didn’t know what was going on, and because she was bound by the tight sheet over her body, Vera could only watch, holding her breath, as Joan stood over her. The white shirt that she wore as part of her uniform fitted a bit differently, and Vera realized it was because Joan wasn’t wearing her bra, which was really hard to miss because as the tall woman leaned over the smaller one, Vera caught a glimpse down Joan’s open buttons on the top of her shirt. There was an odd feeling in Vera’s lower abdomen, a strong, tense feeling that was both odd and rather pleasing. For a moment, Vera actually thought that Joan might lean down and kiss her. She had never kissed a woman before, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. The topic was never discussed when her Mother was alive, and although she had no problem with the women in gay relationships in the prison, she really didn’t know how to react if Joan were to kiss her. The other woman was attractive, but still a woman, and …
Vera’s trail of thought ended as Joan leaned over her and brought her face down near to Vera’s.
“Is the ceiling what you want to be looking at?” Joan said into her ear, the deep voice causing goosebumps to suddenly form on Vera’s arms.
Vera looked into Joan’s eyes, and saw only sternness and authority there. That was, in some way, also appealing to her; she really was enamored of the Governor’s ability to command. Her eyes searched Joan’s face, but she saw no clue as to how she should react in any way.
“Well?” the deep, sensual voice said in what was nearly a whisper.
Vera swallowed. She took in a deep breath that was full of the scent from the lotion Joan used, but also redolent with something else, something new to Vera, something that was drawing her in. She just continued to look at Joan, not knowing what to do, but being filled up with new feelings, both good and frightening. “I…uh…I…” was all she could say.
Joan stood up straight suddenly, shook her head a bit, and said, “This is ridiculous. Do you sleep with a light on at home? It’s bad enough we have the light that comes in through the window. There is no way I’m going to be able to sleep with that on.”
With that, Joan walked around to the other side of the desk and switched off the lamp that they had used to be able to see clearly while getting ready for, and into, their respective make-shift beds.
Vera heard the other woman make her way back to the cot as her own eyes adjusted to the prison’s nighttime sulphur lighting. She was able to see the outline of Joan’s form as the tall woman climbed back onto the cot and readjusted her trench coat and her braid, then was still. Even without a pillow, Joan looked far more comfortable than Vera felt. She was uncomfortable because the desk was hard, but also because she couldn’t quite make sense of what had happened. She had been so drawn to the other woman, so affected by her nearness, and a part of her was very much awake and alert. She was, at some point, going to have to face the fact that she was attracted to Joan Ferguson. Or maybe, just maybe, she admired the other woman so much that these feelings were normal? Maybe it wasn’t sexual beyond the way teenagers feel for their close friends – they can be drawn to each other physically, but it didn’t necessarily lead to anything beyond friendships. Vera remembered being drawn to some of her teachers, both male and female, when she was in high school, but she also remembered being told that such things were normal ‘crushes’ and would fade in time. There was also the fact that Vera had no idea if Joan was straight or not. They had never talked about it, and there was absolutely no way that she could ever bring up the subject to her boss. Next time Joan said “what do you want to talk about?” Vera realized it would be anything but that subject that she could bring up.
All these thoughts were crammed in her head as she looked up at the ceiling, realizing that she was now able to see the detail of it a bit more: the holes, the white metal bands that held up the individual tiles, shadows formed from lamps outside the window… Sadly, Vera realized that this night was going to feel longer than the previous one. She listened to Joan’s breathing become deep and rhythmic, with a light snore. At least someone would be refreshed in the morning, but is sure as hell wasn’t going to be her. She sighed, tried moving a bit more, and managed to loosen the sheet a bit. At least she had lots to think about during the night, while the hard top of the desk bit into her body in various places, leaving her wishing she was back on the cot…

Vera awoke the next morning to see Joan doing her stretches again. She realized, to her own surprise, that she had caught a bit of sleep after all. As she moved to stand up, she felt the stiffness throughout her body and moved cautiously this time. She wasn’t going to make a repeat of yesterday and look like an idiot who never learned from experience. It would have been nice to have another shoulder rub from Joan, though.
“Good morning,” Joan said, after straightening up from her floor position, “I see that you managed to get some sleep.”
Vera stretched, still sitting on the edge of the desk. “Yeah, a bit, I guess,” she said, just as a yawn crept up on her.
“Very good. Just let me get cleaned up and I will put something together for our breakfast,” Joan said.
Vera nodded, then got off the desk, folded up the sheet and blankets, and placed them back on the filing cabinets for the day.
Joan came out of the washroom, back in uniform, hair in a ponytail, and a can of disinfectant spray in her hand. Back to the usual, Vera thought sardonically.
The Governor waved at Vera to stand back as she let the spray fly down at the floor.
This time it was Vera’s turn to say, “You can’t be serious…”
“The floor is where I do my morning stretches. It has to be cleaned every day. I normally do it in the morning and evening, but since you reacted negatively to the spray, I have chosen to do it once a day for your sake.”
“Thank you?” Vera said, not sure how to take that revelation. Joan was definitely thinking of her comfort level, which was nice, but she was also making the place feel short on oxygen again. Vera moved over to the window and pushed it fully open.
Joan stopped spraying and glared at her.
“Look, I appreciate your not using the stuff so much, but I really have to open the window when you do use it,” Vera said, trying to sound appreciative while also trying not to breathe in the foul order of the disinfectant.
Joan stopped spraying for a moment to reply, “Very well, but I don’t want the window open wide for long.”
“Uh-huh,” Vera nodded as she put her face as far out the window as she could. The air was fresh and clean, but with a bite to it that hadn’t been there before. The chill made her think of crisp apples, and she realized how much she was missing fresh food. She sighed, then went to the smaller room and cleaned herself up for the day.
The second (or was it the third, if you counted the original planned visit?) day went much better than the first. Vera had had some of her work faxed into Joan’s office and this gave her something to do while Joan used the desk and computer. As silly as it was to fax things in when they could have been shoved under the door, there was no getting around it. Joan was far too paranoid about germs to allow anything in that had been touched by another human being if she had any choice about it. They broke for lunch, watched the news about the pandemic together and then Vera had a chance to work at the desk, allowing her to be much more efficient than before, until she was distracted by Joan, who was pacing up and down the office, two or three steps before she had to turn around and do it again. She sometimes muttered under her breath, and at other times was gesticulating a fair bit. Obviously, something was very wrong. It could be simply from being cooped up in her office for so long, perhaps, but maybe it was something more.
“What’s bothering you?” she asked, saving her work on the computer before turning to look at the agitated woman.
Joan’s head snapped up as she glared at Vera with that penetrating stare of hers. “Why on earth would you ask me that?” she said, sounding truly perplexed.
Sometimes Joan was hard to handle, Vera thought, carefully choosing her words so that she wouldn’t say anything that made the other woman sound…well, -a bit ‘off.’ “Because you seem to be…um…. bothered by something.”
“Of course I’m ‘bothered’! There’s a pandemic, and I have a prison to run, and I’m stuck in this office and can’t get out to properly do my job. You’re in here too, which means my Deputy is not able to do her job properly either, and can’t report reliably to me,” Joan stated.
“You know, I can go back out any time,” Vera said, wanting to reassure the other woman and be helpful.
Joan shook her head. “Absolutely noT. The only good thing about this entire situation is that I know exactly where you are and that you are safe. Outside my office is now an unknown. We don’t know how the women got sick or who brought the disease into Wentworth, and the best I can do is protect you by keeping you with me.”
The whole thing sounded paranoid to Vera, but she understood that Joan had a phobia and had no way to control what was going on outside of her office. Inside of it, she could at least spray a few puddles of disinfectant and feel better. The younger woman also found herself being touched that Joan wanted her near, and to keep her safe.

“That’s awfully nice of you, but I assure you, I can take care of myself. I’ll wear a mask and gloves and I won’t go to cell block J,” she said, practically.
Vera was surprised when she saw a tick under Joan’s left eye. The taller woman’s face became stern, almost angry, and very determined. When she spoke, it was controlled, low and not to be argued with: “No. You will not leave this room until I tell you it’s safe to do so. How can I keep you safe if you aren’t here? I won’t know where you are, who you are with nor what exact chances you may be taking. Do you really want to increase my stress thaT much?”
“Um…no, of course not,” Vera stammered. She was both intimidated and flattered by what Joan had said. That she was so concerned about keeping her safe was something new to Vera. The idea that her not being safe would increase Joan’s stress level was touching, even though the voice conveying the idea had not a touch of sentiment in it. “It’s just that I’m getting a bit worried about you.”
“Worry about something else. I can take care of myself,” Joan stated.
Vera shook her head this time. “No. That’s not fair. You want to keep me safe, and that’s lovely, but I want to do something for you, too. Since we are so close in here, and are going to be for an undetermined amount of time, I want to be able to help you, even if all I can do is listen.”
“To what? I have nothing to talk about.”
Here we go again, Vera thought. She was determined to stop that in its tracks this time, “Yes, you do. You’ve already told me about what’s worrying you. Now I know what the problem is, and I can’t do anything to help the world situation, but I will do whatever I can to help your situation.”
Joan stood tall and looked down at the small woman sitting in the big Governor’s chair. She lifted her head up and let out a bit of air through her nose, reminding Vera of a proud horse, holding its head high and refusing to be lead. She looked down her nose at Vera when she spoke, “I told you what was bothering me because you asked. I have nothing more to say.”
Vera sighed, “Fine. Talk if you want, don’t talk if you don’t want to, but just know that I am here, and I want to help if I can.”
Joan continued to glare for a bit, then grabbed a file folder from the pile at the front of the desk where she had been sitting when she was reading through them before all the pacing had started. Vera turned back to the computer screen, and nothing more was said until it was time for their dinner of stale cheese crackers with peanut butter, raisins, fruit jellies, and a cup of tea.

That night the air grew colder. Melbourne is well known for its varied weather, and it has been said that you can experience all four seasons in one day. On this particular evening, it seemed that late autumn had snuck into the office, making it cooler than Vera had so far experienced. The teal tracksuit and thin sheet over her on the cot didn’t seem to provide much warmth. The heat in the office was on, but even that didn’t help much. The room was filled with only the yellow light from outside, but she still thought that she could see her breath, even though that was highly unlikely. Joan had not said much that evening, but they had watched a movie on YouTube about a man who was being sent, mentally, over and over to prevent an attack on Chicago while traveling on a train that kept blowing up after eight minutes. The man went back and forth between the train and the military base that was using the technology to send him there. As the movie went on, he discovered that he could change things very little on the train, but it was his job to figure out who the terrorist was. He was being sent over and over again into the mind of a man who had been on the train and was killed when it blew up. Joan had huffed over it, saying she knew the man being used had to have been dead from the start, that the whole story was absurd, that if his head and torso were being kept alive why wasn’t he on life support instead of just lying in a technological coffin-like structure as though everything were fine? She did seem to like that he was successful in the end, and got the girl, but overall she had been restless during the film. They had then played chess on the computer together, the result being that Joan won both games easily, as they had both really expected.
The nightly regime of setting up the cot and desk was becoming habit at this point, and the two women had each crawled into her allotted bed for the night and tried to get some rest. Since Vera was now used to the office, and since she had the cot back again, she expected to actually be able to get catch some real sleep, but that wasn’t to be. She could never sleep well when she was cold, and on this particular night, she would have said she was ‘freezing.’
Joan moved around on the desk again, trying to find a non-existent moment of comfort. She did this off and on, and Vera even heard her sigh and mutter something under her breath. Since neither of them was sleeping, she decided to do what seemed the polite thing to do.
“Joan?” Vera whispered, head turned toward the desk.
“Yes, Vera?” was the quiet reply.
“You can’t sleep, I can hear you moving about. I can’t sleep either, so why don’t you take the cot and I’ll sleep on the desk?”
“Why aren’t you able to sleep, the cot is perfectly adequate for comfort?” the other woman asked, practically.
“Maybe, but I’m far too cold to sleep. I might as well be cold and uncomfortable if it means you can get sleep. At least one of us will.”
“That’s a kind offer, but if you’re too cold, that’s not good,” Joan said, thoughtfully, “Alright, get up.”
Vera did as commanded, gathering the sheet up so she could take it over to the desk. She turned to see Joan standing behind her, shaking her head.
“Give me the sheet,” the tall woman said.
Vera handed it over. She wasn’t sure what Joan was thinking, but maybe the trench coat seemed warmer and Joan was going to trade with her. That didn’t seem the case when Joan carefully laid the sheet out on the cot and folded it over so that it would be over and under the sleeper. She then opened up the wool blankets, laid them on top, and finished by placing the pillow down on the cot. Vera looked over to the now naked desk, and wondered what the hell was going on? Either Joan was giving her all the items of comfort or she had decided that Vera was right and, since only one of them would have a good sleep, she was going to make the most of it. That was not a happy thought, Vera decided.
Joan then, without saying anything, lifted up the sheet and climbed into the cot, arranged her long braid over her right shoulder and sighed as she sank into what was the best bed in the office.
“Well?” Joan said, expectantly.
“Right,” Vera replied, and obediently walked to the lamp and turned it off. Then she sighed again, and started to clamber up onto the desk.
“Now what are you doing?” Came the voice from the cot.
“Getting on the desk, what else?” she replied, a bit irritated at having to state the obvious.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Why do you think I put the cot together this way?” shot back the voice in the dark room, as Vera’s eyes were still adjusting.
“Because I said you should have the cot to be comfortable. I won’t be able to sleep, so I thought you’d taken the pillow and blankets to get a good rest. I mean, one of us should get some decent sleep. That was what I suggested after all,” Vera explained, growing weary of the whole conversation.
“I see. Do you really think I would do that to you?” Joan asked, a faint touch of disappointment in her voice.
“Well, it is logical, I guess,” Vera replied. She grabbed the trench coat from the chair it had been folded up on and put it around her shoulders. She was staring to shiver in the cold and needed something to help her warm up.
Joan sighed, and Vera wasn’t sure if it was a sound of disappointment, irritation or just exasperation. “Come over here, and leave my coat behind,” the taller woman ordered.
Vera was used to following orders, so she responded before thinking. Once she had shed the coat, she was sorry to have done so; the chill in the air seemed to bite into her very bones. Regardless, she obediently made her way over to Joan and looked down at her. The sulpher lighting did no one any favours, but even so, Joan’s face was rather lovely. Vera couldn’t help but notice.
“I’m here,” she said to the figure lying on the cot beneath her.
“Obviously,” Joan said, then lifted the blankets and said, “get in.”
“I…what? How?” Vera responded, baffled.
“Carefully. There isn’t much room on a cot, but I think we can manage this,” Joan replied.
Vera was a bit shocked. Both of them on the cot? That would be nearly impossible, and extremely awkward. She thought about the best way to accomplish the desired outcome just as her body began to really shake from the cold.
“Oh, come on, Vera – do I have to talk you through this?”
“Maybe. I really don’t know just what you have in mind here,” Vera all but whispered.
“First, remove your track pants, they are bulky and won’t allow for a quick transfer of warmth. It’s up to you if you keep your hoodie on or not,” Joan said, in her most practical manner.
“Uh…okay…” and with that, Vera dutifully removed her track pants. She did not feel comfortable enough to remove her jacket, and she stood still in the gloom, waiting for further instructions.
“Oh, come on. Lean over me, and put a hand on either side of my shoulders, on the supports of the cot,” Joan ordered.
Vera did so, feeling more than a little awkward leaning over Joan’s face.
“Good, now simply swing your inside leg over my furthest leg,” continued the instructions from beneath Vera. “Alright, now lower yourself onto me.”
This was rather uncomfortable for Vera. She had never really been this close to anyone, certainly not like this. If she didn’t count her brief encounters with Fletch, this really was the first time she had full body contact with another person, and that it was Joan just made it that much…. more uncomfortable? Weirder? Intriguing? Embarrassing? It was all of those things, and more.
“Come on, Vera, I won’t bite,” Joan said.
Vera had two choices: finish getting onto the cot and lie down on Joan Ferguson, or get up and leave. She was really not ready to choose the latter option. She was too cold and, if she was being honest to herself, she didn’t really want to leave. She carefully lowered herself onto Joan, turning her head so that her face was away from the other woman’s, her cheek on Joan’s shoulder.
“Pick up your other leg and bring it in,” Joan told her.
Once she had done so, Joan lowed the blanket and carefully placed her arms down at her sides. Vera was reaching up still, one arm in front of her own face, the other still on the cot support near Joan’s other shoulder. It took the taller woman some time to get her arms in place, but when they were, she became very still. Vera was still shivering with cold, and the warmth Joan’s body provided was very welcome, even if only in just the practical sense.
“I had no intention of leaving you on the desk,” Joan said, quietly in her deep voice, to the back of Vera’s head. “You said you were cold. This is the best way to get warmed up.”
“Uh…yes….it…” was all that Vera could mutter.
Joan sighed once again, then in that deep, soft voice, continued, “Do you think you were the only one who was cold?”
“I am the one who is ‘too skinny’…” Vera whispered, still both pleased and annoyed to have been called that.
“And that in no way changes the fact that this is a very cold night. You are cold, you’re still shaking,” Joan whispered.
“I am feeling warmer, but aren’t I too heavy? I mean, you won’t be able to sleep like this?” Vera asked.
Joan took a deep breath, lifting Vera’s torso up a bit, then, “You hardly weight a thing, and it doesn’t matter. You need to warm up, as do I, and there is no other place to sleep anymore. This will have to do. If I find you becoming too heavy, we will have to do something else, but for now, let’s just rest.”
For the first time in her life, Vera really felt that someone else was making a sacrifice for her sake. Joan was willing to put up with the discomfort of being lain upon and got nothing more for her efforts than a warm body next to her, if she managed to warm up at all, that is. “Thank you,” she said.
“You’re welcome. Now shhh, just try and get warm and rest. Neither of us has slept very well in a long time. If we can be warm enough like this, maybe we can at least nap a bit,” Joan whispered.
Oddly, Vera found herself both smiling and trying to hold back tears. She became acutely aware of Joan’s breasts beneath her, and of hers pressing into Joan’s body. She could feel the other woman’s long legs next to hers, her own feet pressed for warmth along Joan’s shins and calves. It was such an odd feeling, both comforting and also making her more self conscious. In time, however, she felt Joan’s breathing become deeper, and realized that the other woman had fallen asleep. Awkward as it was, and as acutely aware of her body pressed up against Joan’s as she was, Vera did eventually begin to relax. She felt herself slowly warm up, and the exhaustion of the past few days pushed any further thoughts of discomfort out of her mind and body as she rested on Joan’s gently lifting and lowing her torso with each breath.

Vera awoke to Joan’s voice telling her to wake up.
“I’m awake,” she replied, still half asleep.
She moved her head a bit, trying to resist the call to become fully awake, but Joan was insistent, and she soon had no choice. The moment she remembered where she was, that she was sleeping on top of another person, specifically Joan Ferguson, Vera became fully awake. It was starting to lighten up in the room and it appeared that she had spent most of the night sleeping in that strange position.
“Get off of me!” Joan insisted.
Vera found the supports of the cot, and held herself up as she moved her outer leg from between Joan’s legs and over the edge of the cot, finding the floor with her foot. She pushed herself up, managed to get all the way off of Joan, and stood up.
Joan took a couple of deep breaths, then said, “I think my limbs are asleep. At least my left leg and my arms are. I can feel my right leg.”
That was going to be uncomfortably tingly for a while, Vera realized. “Just stay where you are, if you get up now you could fall.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Joan all but hissed, “I don’t mind that, but the cot is starting to give. Go turn on the lights!”
Vera quickly did as she was told, and then, feeling self-conscious again, grabbed her track pants from the floor and slid into them. She looked down at Joan as soon as she was decent and saw the other woman’s eyes become wider as her upper body suddenly slipped down a bit closer to the floor.
“Oh!” Vera exclaimed when she saw what was happening, “Oh my God, the fabric on the support is ripping!”
“Can’t get anything past you,” Joan said, then caught her breath as yet more of the fabric pulled away from the support.
Vera offered Joan her hand, hoping to help her get out of the cot before it ripped all the way and she hit the floor. Joan looked at her from her prone position, her hands now holding on tightly to the supports on either side of the cot.
“I don’t think you can help me,” Joan said, “I still can’t feel my leg, and I don’t think I should attempt to stand.”
“Then don’t, maybe you could sort of, you know, roll out of it?” Vera asked, trying to be as helpful as possible.
“I don’t know, I’m-“ There was another drop of a few centimeters and Vera watched, helpless, as the cot’s fabric gave way and Joan sank the last little bit to the floor. Her head was resting on the pillow, which was now on the floor, her hands hanging on to the sides of the cot, her feet above her head, just resting on the fabric that was still attached to the cot from Joan’s hips downwards.
Vera continued to look down at Joan’s face. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“Of course I’m okay. I’m just rather stuck,” was the reply, accompanied by a glare of irritation.
The whole situation had gone from potential crisis to absurdity in Vera’s mind in only a few moments, and she couldn’t help it, she started to giggle. Joan glared a death glare in her direction, which would normally have sent the smaller woman scurrying to do Joan’s bidding, but after having spent a night in such close proximity, it seemed rather ridiculous to feel cowed by Joan in the position she was in. The cot was only just long enough for the tall woman, and looking through the frame at Joan’s upper half lying on the floor was too much. Vera broke down and started to laugh when Joan began to wiggle her feet in circles, trying to see if she had her circulation back.
“This is noT funny,” Joan said, with the clear intention of getting Vera to stop her laughter.
The tension of the last few days, of being trapped in Wentworth and then the Governor’s office, of having eaten nothing but mostly snack packs, of worrying and not knowing what would be coming next in both the world situation and the personal one was too much for Vera. Stress needs an outlet, and in this case, she couldn’t keep herself from laughing. She was almost struggling for breath by the time the laughter started to slow down.
“Are you finished?” Joan asked, almost sarcastically. She had now let go of the supports and had crossed her arms over her chest in irritation.
Vera could only nod, otherwise she knew she’d start to laugh again.
“Then help me out of this thing!”

In the end, Joan had had to hold up the top end of the cot while Vera held up the foot of it so that the tall woman could get her legs out of the contraption. It was not in the least a graceful exit, and Vera bit her lip to keep from laughing yet again. When all was said and done, the two of them stood and looked down at the wreck that lay before them.
“That’s that, then,” Joan said, not seeming as upset as Vera had expected her to be.
“What will we do now?”
“We throw it out. I see no reason to keep this in here now, it’s simply junk at this point,” Joan said practically.
“I didn’t mean that, I meant how will we sleep? We can’t both fit on the desk. It’s uh…way too hard…um…for you…for me to…” Vera found it bloody hard to say what she was thinking.
Joan shook her head a bit and raised her hand in a sh-ing motion. “Stop struggling, Vera. Of course it’s too hard for us to lie on in the same manner as last night. Hopefully it won’t be an issue.”
“I probably should leave, then,” Vera suggested. It did seem the only logical thing to do.
“What?” was the response, “No, no, no. Not to worry, I have things under control.” And with that, Joan went off to the washroom and started putting herself together for the day.

The day proceeded as usual. Well, as usual as such strange situations allowed for. To get rid of the cot, Vera had opened the door, Joan had chucked it out into the hallway in front of her assistant’s unoccupied desk, and Vera had slammed the door as quickly as she could. Joan then sprayed the inevitable germ-killing spray for far too long, and Vera went and hung her head out of the window until the air started to clear. All in all, a normal start to a normal day under the circumstances.
It continued as the other couple of days had: snack pack breakfasts and tea, watching the news on the computer about the world situation with the two of them on the visitor’s side of the Governor’s desk; Joan scrubbing the tea cups and saucers down until Vera was sure the finish on them couldn’t last long; Joan on the computer in the morning; lunch; news; Vera on the computer in the after noon. And then something made Vera jump, though it wasn’t because of Joan this time.
There was a solid knock on the door.
“What the hell was that?” Vera said, after a brief squeal, as she recovered from the adrenaline surge.
“A knock, what do you think it was?” was the acerbic reply.
Vera rolled her eyes, this time not bothering to hide her expression from Joan.
Joan smiled slightly, got up and grabbed her spray can on her way towards the door. “Come on, let’s see what it is, hm?” she said to Vera.
Vera got up from behind the computer and walked over. She grabbed the door handle and said, “Ready?”
“Ready!”
Vera hauled the door wide open. Joan dragged in a delivery box so large that she couldn’t pick it up, and Vera slammed the door shut. The spray can’s contents rained down into the room, Vera breathed with her head out the window, and shortly thereafter, Joan cleaned the box all over with her disinfectant wipes.
The two women, one in her Governor’s uniform sans tie and with a ponytail rather than a bun, the other in prison teals, looked down at the large box. The box did nothing.
“Are you going to tell me what’s in this thing?” Vera asked.
Joan played with her a bit, pretending to think as she moved over the window and acted as though the empty exercise yard was of great interest before she turned back to Vera and answered, “Umm – no.”
“No?”
“No. I am not going to tell you what’s in there. You are going to open it and find out. Consider it a present from me,” Joan said, then indicated with her head that Vera should indeed do as suggested.
It took a pair of scissors from the Governor’s desk and a bit of time, but Vera did manage to open the large box, then the smaller ones inside. To her delight, she found a hot plate, a small pot, pasta, jars of pasta sauce, canned stews of high quality, boil in the bag curries and other things, some hard cheese, crackers, and so on. All were things that could be kept in Joan’s bar fridge or were stable to stay on the counter, and things that could be easily cooked in a pot or put in the already available microwave.
“Not the best quality, of course, as that can only be had at home,” Joan said, “but perhaps you’ll find meals a bit more interesting now.”
Vera kept grinning as she said, “Thank you! This is great – oh, look there’s more.” At this, she pulled a rectangular box out of the large one and saw that it was from a distillery.
“I like to have vodka at dinner time,” Joan said, taking the box to the back room to open. “I can’t freeze it, but I can keep it cool here.”
The last thing Vera discovered was the biggest box except for the delivery one, under all the others. This contained an inflatable double-sized mattress.
“Joan!” she said in delight, “This will be so much more comfortable!”
Joan allowed herself an open, rather wide smile at the look on Vera’s face and the tone of her voice. “Yes, it will be.”
“It will take forever to blow up,” the smaller woman said, already pulling the tough plastic out of the box.
“Keep going,” was the response.
It turned out that the thing came with a pump that could both inflate and deflate the mattress comparatively quickly.
Once all the items were unpacked and stored away to Joan’s satisfaction, the now routine task of throwing things into the hallway outside the office door took place once more: open, toss, close, spray, window, etc.

That evening the two women sat on the guest side of the desk, eating spaghetti covered with jarred tomato sauce, Vera drinking tea and Joan vodka, both working very hard at not making a mess.
“All this,” Vera said around a mouthful of pasta, indicating the food, then the uninflated mattress in the corner, “was very thoughtful, thank you again.”
“Please, it wasn’t just for you. I have no idea how long I have to be in here,” Joan said, trying to pick up spaghetti noodles with a spoon and butter knife. “I ordered these items some time ago. I didn’t mind the cot, but the mattress, I knew, would be more comfortable if I had to be here for long. The only thing I really did for you was have you open it all up.”
“I don’t care, this is great,” Vera replied. She had given up on full size noodles and was attempting to cut them up using her spoon to hold them while the butter knife slid around on them.
“It will make our quarantine a bit more survivable,” Joan said, gracefully grabbing a noodle before it left her plate, then wiping her hands on her paper towel napkin, “On the next order, however, I will ask for forks and another pillow.”
Vera grinned, and said, “I’m glad you got extra paper towel anyway, or my teal hoodie would be a mess by now.”
“Hmm…yes, the mess on the paper towel does make it look like some sort of disaster has happened down your front,” Joan said. She then took another shot of vodka out of her teacup. “I have missed decent vodka. I ran out here a few days before you arrived, and it is so nice to have it again.”
Vera nodded. She had refused the drink twice already, her entire system reeling from the very idea. “Next time, maybe you could order some wine?”
“Maybe. I hope there is no ‘next time.’ This can’t go on forever, eventually the prison will be found clean or not, and then we will know. Until we can get tests here for the two women with symptoms, we will have to stay on lock down. The tests should arrive fairly soon,” Joan stated, as she opened a pudding cup and handed it to Vera, “I didn’t ask. Did you want the chocolate or the butterscotch?”
“Chocolate, please.”
“Very well. Since I have vodka, and you have nothing to drink, it seems fair to give you the chocolate pudding.”
The two women watched the news, and went to bed earlier than usual. They were both exhausted from lack of quality sleep. They managed to make the sheet work on the mattress, though it would probably be a mess by morning, and covered their bodies with the blankets. Joan balled up her trench coat so the inner fabric was facing out, and used that as her pillow, allowing Vera the only real pillow they had.
Both of them lay down and faced the ceiling. Joan made a throat clearing noise, and, after a few moments, Vera got up and turned off the light, then crawled back into the makeshift bed. It was indeed very comfortable, perhaps as much so as Vera’s bed at home, she thought. Still, neither of them seemed to fall asleep. Joan seemed a bit restless, turning back and forth.
“Joan?”
“Yes, Vera?”
“Can’t you sleep?”
“Obviously not, or I wouldn’t have answered you.”
Vera sighed a bit at that. “I don’t know if I made it clear, but I want to thank you for last night. I was really cold, and I know it wasn’t comfortable to try and sleep with me on top of you like that.”
“I was cold too, remember?” Joan replied. “I thought it was…” her voice trialed off.
Vera turned her head to look at Joan. The other woman was on theleft side of the mattress, and Vera could see that long, dark braid with the silver highlights lying down over the other woman’s shoulder and chest. “You thought it was what?”
“Nothing,” Joan said, turning away, “I’ve had a lot of vodka.”
“You only had two cups,” Vera replied, “and that doesn’t mean you can’t tell me what you were saying.”
Quiet. For some reason, Vera knew not to push Joan on this.
“I had two cups. Two tea cups…” the voice next to her said. Then, softly, “I don’t make friends easil-…”
“Easily?” Vera said softly.
“No,” was the quick reply.
“Neither do I.”
Joan turned on her side completely now, her back to Vera and whispered, “I want you to know that I think of you as more than just my Deputy, as more than a co-worker.”
Vera smiled in the dark. “Me too,” she said.
There was a grumble, then, “That’s an absurd statement. When you say ‘me too’, it means that you think of yourself as more than just a Deputy.”
“Fine. I think of myself as your friend,” Vera replied with a touch of annoyance.
“I… You do?” the quiet reply came back, tentative in a way that Joan never was.
“Of course, that’s why I’m here. I wouldn’t have come to see you in the first place if it were only for work purposes,” Vera said, looking at the back of Joan’s head.
“Yes, well… I… I appreciate that,” came back the quiet response.
Vera wanted to reach out, to put her hand on Joan’s arm, but she didn’t dare. She had no idea how Joan would respond to that. Neither of them was used to any kind of emotional intimacy, and Joan had bared more of her soul to Vera than she had to anyone, it seemed. Vera had the feeling that a response was needed, but she didn’t want to scare the other woman off, which seemed an actual possibility for the very first time. Somehow, Joan seemed vulnerable, and this was a new thing to Vera. On second thought, it was probably a new thing to Joan, too, Vera realized.
Instead of saying anything further on the topic, Vera decided to try a different approach. “Joan?”
No response.
“I’m cold again. I guess I do need to gain a bit of weight or something,” Vera whispered, expectantly.
Joan said nothing. Instead, she moved herself closer to Vera, who also rolled on her side, facing outward from the bed. The two of them snuggled up, back to back, and lay in the sulphur coloured light coming in from the yard, each comforted by the presence of the other.
Quarantine, while a terrible thing, did not have to be an entirely terrible experience for the individual, Vera decided as she drifted off to sleep, her back feeling the warmth emanating from the most important person in her world.