‘Look,’ I finally snap, ‘I just don’t want to talk about it.’
‘OK,’ she says and smiles, ‘but I’m just trying to help. It’s really good to talk things through.’
‘Yeah, sorry,’ I murmur, even though I’m not.
‘Why are you sorry, Felicity?’
‘Jeez do you ever stop asking bloody questions?’ I snap. ‘Do you want to know about him? Do you really want to know what he did to me? Do you want to know what the rotten pig did? He raped me. I was really drunk but he said I woke up during the night and we had sex and the condom burst. But I know that didn’t happen. I know he raped me.’ I burst out crying. ‘If you ever tell anyone I’ll kill myself I swear I will.’
She doesn’t say anything, just moves her chair closer and lets me cry. Eventually she tells me not to worry, that everything will be OK. But I know she’s just saying that. After a while she asks if I want to tell her the whole story, so I do, right from when we met.
‘How are you feeling?’ she asks when I’ve finished.
‘I dunno. OK, I guess.’ I look at her. ‘You won’t tell anyone, will you?’
‘I won’t tell anyone,’ she promises. ‘Is that why you’re having nightmares?’
I nod and end up telling her about them too. When I finish I feel exhausted. She talks for ages and then tells me to come back on Friday and to ring her immediately if I need to talk or if I’m feeling upset or overwhelmed. She hands me her card as I stand.
‘Thanks,’ I mutter, heading for the door.
‘Felicity,’ she calls as I’m about to open it, ‘it will be all right, you know.’
I nod even though I don’t believe her.
I’m in the loo fixing myself up when I get a text from Mam – the sixth one today. She’s right outside waiting, of course; I’m sure she would have driven onto the footpath and in through the doors if she could have – God forbid that I’d be left alone for a minute.
‘That took a while,’ she says as I slide into the front seat. ‘Were you late going in?’
‘No, I was there by ten to and went in at four,’ I say, pulling on my belt and looking at the clock. It’s nearly half five.
‘So, how did it go?’ she asks.
‘Yeah, fine,’ I say, then I stare out the window hoping she’ll get the hint.
‘You know, while I was sitting here waiting for you I saw that girl again,’ she says.
‘What girl?’ I ask.
‘That girl that you nearly knocked over the other day,’ she says as she clicks on the indicator and pulls slowly out into the traffic.
‘Really?’ I ask, turning around and straining my neck to look back at the office.
‘Yeah, she was waiting around there for a long time; I wonder if she’s a patient – I mean, a client?’ she corrects herself. She glances at me. She stops talking then and concentrates on the cars, crawling like tiny insects in front of her.
‘So, where did she go?’ I ask, trying not to sound too interested.
‘Hmm?’ she asks, distracted.
‘Where did she go?’
‘I don’t know, I think some guy came along and they went off together. I got fed up watching them so I started reading that old magazine at your feet. They’ve some lovely recipes for chicken and lamb that I’m going to try,’ she smiles as she glances at me.
‘Great,’ I say sarcastically.
She rolls her eyes and is about to say something but stops herself. I stare out the window and silently say goodbye to another dream as the first drops of rain begin to fall.
CHAPTER 29
It’s amazing how quickly you get back into a routine. School’s no different; it’s like I’ve never been away. All too soon I’m back to my old self and dreaming my life away – Joey being top of my list. Fee and Kar are brilliant: whenever I’m called on and don’t know an answer – which is, like, always – they whisper it to me or find some way to distract the teachers. On Thursday Fee purposely whacks her leg off the desk just to distract Reynolds, our Business Studies teacher, who’s waiting on me to answer some question on income tax. She roars in pretend agony that makes me laugh. Reynolds, the ass, gives me a lethal telling off for being so heartless.
‘How can you laugh at such a thing?’ she asks, incredulous. ‘I’ve a good mind to send you to Ms Moran.’
‘No,’ Fee shouts, ‘it’s fine, she’s fine; Felicity didn’t mean it.’
‘What a gracious friend,’ Reynolds continues, shaking her head and smiling as she looks at Fee. ‘You could learn something from that,’ she snaps giving me a final icy – as in, sub-zero – stare. ‘Now, where was I?’ she asks, looking back at the book. ‘Ah yes, tax, now …’ She surveys the class over her spectacles. ‘Annabel Winters,’ she says, looking at the girl directly behind me, ‘can you tell me how I would calculate the income tax on a single male earning forty-five thousand gross pay per annum?’
I put down my head and cower behind Melissa Ryan, who’s about three stone overweight, thank God. ‘Thanks,’ I whisper to Fee.
‘You owe me big time,’ she whispers back.
‘How about I pass the IOU on to Kev? I’m sure you two could work something out.’
‘Sounds good to me!’ she says through the corner of her mouth.
We both go back to dreaming our separate dreams while Annabel Winters stares blankly at Ms. Reynolds, praying for some revelation or divine inspiration. It never comes.
On Friday I manage to change and get out of school in record time. I’m outside Dr Rodge’s office by quarter to four, sweating profusely but hoping for a glimpse of Joey. Idiot, I think to myself as I eventually make my way inside, where Dr Rodge is already waiting.
Today her mission is to persuade me to tell Mam, Dad and the police about what happened.
‘It was as much my fault as his,’ I tell her. ‘I should never have taken the tablet or drank so much or gotten into his bed.’
‘No, Felicity, he shouldn’t have taken advantage of you and you’re under the legal age for having sex.’
‘You don’t know him,’ I eventually shout; ‘he’ll twist it all around; no one will believe me.’ I begin to cry. ‘I don’t want my Mam and Dad to know. I don’t want anyone to know.’ I sit sobbing for a while. ‘You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?’ I ask again, thinking she could go to the police herself. I don’t wait for her to reply. ‘I’ll do it again,’ I say, ‘I swear, I’ll do something and it’ll work this time.’ She tries to calm me down, promising again that nothing I say will go outside the room unless I want it to.
‘My first priority is you, Felicity,’ she says quietly, ‘I just want you to realise that by telling the police you’ll stop him from doing this to anyone else again.’
I shake my head. ‘I can’t,’ I say, ‘I just can’t. He’ll get to walk away, they always do.’
The session eventually ends, but only after Dr Rodge has talked endlessly and analysed me to death. Of course I promise that I won’t harm myself and will be in constant contact. Once I get out I head straight for the loos and plaster myself in make-up so Mam won’t suspect I’ve been crying. I hear the lift door open with a ping when I’m on my way out and I race to get it, managing to squeeze in at the very last second.
‘Hey Flick.’ It’s Joey. She’s with a rather tall guy.
‘Oh, um, hi,’ I say breathlessly, ‘how’s it going?’ I know I’ve gone bright red – maybe even bordering on purple – but I have absolutely nowhere to hide so I just smile embarrassedly.
‘Yeah, great,’ she says, ‘Oh, by the way, this is Dave,’ she continues as the tall geek flicks his greasy hair across his forehead. I think I hear a muffled ‘hey’ but I’m not sure. ‘So, how are things?’ she asks.
‘Great,’ I lie as the doors reopen. I walk out and stand awkwardly, waiting for them to follow me, but I’m secretly wishing I could just run away. I think of Mam outside, watching and waiting, and what she’ll think when she sees us and the million questions she’l
l ask and aghhhh! This is such a disaster. She stops beside me, as does the world’s best hair-flicker, and is just about to say something when I tell her I’ve got to go. ‘It’s just that Mam’s waiting …’ I trail off in embarrassment, feeling like a ten year old.
‘OK,’ she says but the smile has completely gone from her face and she looks a little bit confused or sad or something. I feel my eyes about to fill up and I bite my cheek and blink them away.
‘Sorry,’ I croak as I turn and nearly run out the door.
Of course Mam is waiting, full of questions that she is afraid to ask. I stare out the window feeling exhausted. All I want to do is get home to my room and cry.
CHAPTER 30
The nightmares come again that night, worse than ever before. I scream and scream till there’s no breath left in me.
When I wake later the lamp is on and Mam’s lying asleep beside me. I gaze at the alarm clock on the bedside locker: it’s half four. The nightmare is still so clear in my head and although I want to get up I’m afraid to move in case I wake her. I wait a while, watching her. Then slowly, my gaze intent on her face, willing her to stay asleep, I edge gently from the bed.
I quietly close the bathroom door then turn on the shower. The water is hot but I don’t care, I just grab some soap and a brush from the shelf and scrub until my skin is raw and sore. I dry myself quickly and throw on my dressing gown. I stare at the ground, concentrating on the cream tiles as I brush my hair, unable to look at the face that stares back at me from the mirror. I silently open the bathroom door and take one last look at Mam sleeping soundly before I sneak out and tiptoe quietly down the stairs and into the sitting-room, knowing that the TV is the only thing that will take my mind off him. I switch it on and flick through the dismal array of programmes. Suddenly the door behind me opens and Kev is standing there bleary-eyed in his boxers and a T-shirt.
‘I didn’t know you were home,’ I say.
‘I got in late last night,’ he croaks.
‘Sorry if I woke you,’ I say.
‘Nah, I couldn’t really sleep anyway,’ he lies.
‘What’s on?’ he asks.
‘Absolute drivel,’ I say.
‘You’ve had a shower,’ he says, changing the subject as he looks at the clock on the wall, ‘and it’s only after five.’
‘I couldn’t sleep so I thought I might as well,’ I mumble.
‘Do you remember last night?’ he asks, tentatively looking at the T V, and then at me.
‘Not really, but Mam was beside me when I woke up so I presume I had another nightmare.’
‘You screamed a lot, Flick, and they couldn’t seem to wake you. Dad wanted to ring for help but I don’t think he knew who to call.’
‘Damn,’ I say, ‘I’m really sorry. I don’t know what the hell …’ I trail off.
‘And Mam just kept rocking you till you fell back to sleep,’ he continues. I just stare at the telly. ‘So, do you remember what it was about?’ he asks.
I can feel him looking at me. I swallow and shake my head. ‘No,’ I say, but the word gets stuck in my throat and comes out weak and hoarse. I hope he’ll change the subject. After a few seconds I hear a noise at the door. I look up and Kev is gone. I lean my head back against the sofa, close my eyes for a few seconds and sigh, wishing I could make it all go away – for good this time. Another creak of the door and my eyes flick open; there’s Kev with a duvet and pillows. He dumps them unceremoniously beside me.
‘If we’re going to be up this early we might as well watch something good. Why don’t you pick a Tarantino film and I’ll be back in a minute,’ he says. I go over and flick through the DVDs. Pulp Fiction is my favourite. It’s old but I love it and the music in it is fab. I smell the sweet hot chocolate the moment he opens the door.
‘You’re spoiling me,’ I say with a smile as I prop a pillow either end of the couch and spread out the duvet.’
‘Never,’ he says, putting the mug on a magazine beside me. ‘Want anything to go with that?’
‘Nah,’ I say, slotting in the DVD.
‘I’m in charge of the controls,’ he says quickly, just as I pick them up.
I hand them over reluctantly. ‘Please don’t put it on loudly; I really don’t want to wake Mam or Dad,’ I say.
‘Agreed,’ he says, pressing the volume button down.
‘I forgot about all of these stupid trailers,’ I say, settling myself under the duvet. ‘Wanna skip them?’
Kev seems not to hear me. He clears his throat. ‘So, I actually did see Mike last week when I was back up in college,’ he says.
Every muscle in my body tightens. My mouth is dry and I can’t say a word but my mind is screaming. Don’t let this be happening, please don’t let Kev know what happened that night. I couldn’t bear it. Please may he not start talking about this.
‘Yeah,’ he continues quietly, ‘I asked him what went on that night.’ I stare at the duvet cover wishing he’d just shut up. I want to cover my ears and close my eyes and go ‘la, la, la, la, la, la’ but I don’t. I don’t do anything. ‘He says ye went to bed shortly after we did, that you were wrecked and you just conked out … He didn’t sound that convincing.’
I feel sick to my stomach: sick at knowing that Kev has confronted Mike but also sick at Mike’s pretend innocence.
‘So I told him if he laid a finger on you ever again or even came within a fifty yard radius I’d beat him to a pulp.’
‘No way,’ I whisper.
‘Yeah, so he told me to go to hell, that I was all talk. He said he could do what he wanted with whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted and that you were a big girl who could make up her own mind.’ I feel my stomach heave. ‘That’s when I hit him … I think I broke his nose.’
‘Oh my God!’ I splutter. ‘Kev, you didn’t!’
He nods, then smiles. ‘He’ll be fine,’ he says; ‘he’s just got two black eyes and a crooked nose now so he’s not such a pretty boy!’ He pauses for a moment. ‘I’d say he’ll be bricking it for these last few weeks of college and he’ll be lucky if a broken nose is all he gets away with.’
‘Oh, Kev, don’t do anything else, he’s not worth it,’ I say quietly. ‘Do you think you’ll get into trouble?’ I ask after a few minutes.
‘Nah,’ he says, ‘he knows he’s gotten off lightly.’ We both stare back at the T V. The static image tells us to play the movie or watch the special features.
‘Flick,’ he says, ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you that night and I know you don’t want to talk about it or the things that are bothering you … but if you ever do, you know I’m here.’ He pauses, ‘I just don’t want you to hurt yourself again,’ he says quietly.
‘I’m sorry I did that,’ I whisper. ‘It wasn’t fair on any of you.’ I can’t bring myself to promise I won’t do it again even though I know that’s what he wants to hear.
He gives me a quick nudge with his foot under the duvet. ‘Forget about it,’ he says.
We both drink the not–so-hot chocolate and without another word he flicks the play button and relaxes back on the couch.
‘Thanks, Kev,’ I say as the credits roll. ‘You’re a great big bro!’
He gives me a wink and we settle into the film. He’s fast asleep when I look back over at him ten minutes later. I sit staring at him, envying him and wishing I could just take his advice and forget about it all.
CHAPTER 31
Another weekend drags by, pulling me along with it. I pretend I’m coming down with a cold so I’m not forced to go out and end up spending most of the time in my room, playing my guitar. I’m actually getting pretty good at it but I suppose I’d want to be, considering all the time I’ve spent on it these last few weeks. The girls call over for a while on Saturday and I play them an old Janis Ian song, ‘At Seventeen’.
‘Wow, that was great,’ Fee grins; ‘you’re really getting good.’
‘It’s a bit depressing though, isn’t it?’ Kar asks. She’s loungi
ng on the bed. ‘And you’re not seventeen.’
‘You don’t have to be to appreciate the song,’ I say.
‘Or maybe it’ll take you till you’re seventeen to get it right,’ she says slyly.
I fling a cushion at her.
‘I’m gonna learn some Joni Mitchell ones next,’ I tell Fee.
‘Who the hell is she?’ Kar asks.
‘She’s this old singer-songwriter.’
‘How old? And what’s wrong with all the new stuff out there? Why can’t you play some Kings of Leon or Green Day or Lady Gaga or someone like that?’
‘She was around in the sixties and she sings really cool songs and I don’t want to play other stuff,’ I say defensively.
‘Well there’s no point sitting up here playing ancient depressing songs over and over; you’ll end up just wanting to slit your wrists … or I’ll want to slit mine,’ she says.
‘Shut up Kar,’ Fee says and throws another pillow. Kar shuts up, as do I and Fee amazingly manages to keep a conversation going all by herself for what seems like for ever.
The rest of the weekend rolls slowly by. I lounge and sleep for most of it. I can see Mam looking at me, wondering, worrying, dying to ask loads of questions. But she says nothing.
On Monday I ask her for a note as I haven’t done any homework and promise us both that I’ll work harder this week. She grudgingly agrees, unsure of what to say or how hard to push.
Now that Dr Rodge thinks she’s figured out what’s wrong with me and what made me take the overdose she focuses in on the nightmares. She asks me to tell her about them and explains how they’re manifestations of my inner feelings and fears. She discusses Mike endlessly, explaining that rather than the strong powerful predator I see him as, he’s really only a weakling – a bully who preys on people physically weaker than him. She discusses how he manipulated me and how I’ve allowed him to control my life through nightmares and negative thoughts ever since the rape. In each session she helps me to visualise different scenarios where I see the real Mike and regain control of the situation. She also focuses on the guilt that I can’t seem to rid myself of and explains that I need to forgive myself in order to move on. It’s a long, slow battle and I usually have a good cry during the sessions but bit by bit I’m improving. By the end of April I can actually tell her anything… Well, almost.
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