Jenny was always fascinated with methods of punishment used throughout history, and it inevitably led her to study law and correction. It often worried me the interest she showed in the more gruesome punishments inflicted over the centuries, usually those involving pain or humiliation. Really, the job she had aspired to within the Department of Correction suited her right down to the ground. I had always feared for the poor souls who may end up being dealt with by her if she succeeded in those aspirations. Don't get me wrong, she was a lovely person: intelligent, caring, compassionate, gorgeous and so sexy. To look at her, and even spend time with her, you wouldn't know what went on inside her head.
Of course, I had a massive crush on her and she knew it, so she used her teasing nature to flirt with me whenever she could. I knew she wasn't interested in having any sort of relationship with anyone as she was so focussed on getting her career moving. I could understand that, but I wanted to keep our friendship alive hoping that when the day she was ready to start dating arrived, I'd be in pole position.
It was only months after she'd completed her education that she applied to become a Correction Officer. She had quickly gone through the various stages of the recruitment process: paper sift, physical test, aptitude test, background checks, final interview and even the medical. Applying for a position in the Department of Correction required the hopeful party to have a clean record, and Jenny certainly did, until she finally received official confirmation her application was successful.
We'd all gone out to celebrate her success with a meal, but not having planned to drink much, some of us, including Jenny, went in our cars. When we'd finished in the restaurant, everyone drifted off home leaving Jenny and I to wind up the evening with a quick drink in a bar. However, we ended up having more than we intended, Jenny in particular.
When we left the bar, she could hardly walk in a straight line, so I was amazed and shocked when she approached her car. I was intending to leave mine until the next day when I'd sobered up, but there was nothing I could do to put Jenny off driving herself home. Refusing a lift from her, I helplessly watched her drive away, her car swerving as it disappeared down the street and around the corner.
First thing next morning, my phone rang; it was a frantic Jenny. I'd never heard her so upset.
"Michael. Michael. What am I going to do?" she shouted down the phone.
"Slow down, Jenny," I said, struggling to wake myself up.
"I'm in so much trouble."
"What trouble?" I rubbed my eyes and lay on my back.
"I can't explain over the phone. Can I meet you somewhere?"
"Er, yes, if you want."
"Michael. How good a friend are you?"
That got me worried.
She looked very dishevelled, mainly due to her hangover, when I saw her half an hour later in the local coffee shop. She explained quietly, but tearfully, how, on her journey home, while very much under the influence of alcohol, she'd managed to scrape her car along a line of parked cars. If she'd stopped and reported the incident, she would have been discovered to have been well over the drink drive limit, and lost her dream job before she'd even started.
Making a quick decision, she'd driven on, managing to get home without any further incident. It was a gamble she'd taken, because if caught, she would have been in even more trouble for failing to stop and report what she'd done. Her only hope was that nothing would be picked up by street cameras.
She reached across the table and held my hands. "I'm terrified I'm going to be caught and I'd be in so much trouble. I'm a Correction Officer, a member of the Justice system even though I don't officially start until tomorrow. They'd come down so heavily on me, and I'd lose the job I worked so hard to get."
"You'll be ok," I said, trying to comfort her. "Just keep your head down, they'll not find out."
"How much of a friend are you, Michael?" she asked, tearfully.
There was that question again.
"I like to think I'm a special friend to you, Jenny." I so much wanted to be more.
She hesitated as if nervous of something. Then I discovered why.
"If I needed you, would you take the blame for me, Michael?"
"What?" I was shocked.
"If they find out it was my car that crashed into the others..."
"They won't find out," I said, trying to avoid the answer. "Where's the car now? You have hidden it away somewhere, haven't you?"
"Of course I have. It's in my garage where no-one will see it scratched and dented. Please, Michael. Just in case they somehow find out it was my car; would you tell them it was you who borrowed it. You'd only have to say you accidently clipped some parked cars, but didn't stop because you panicked."