by Anna Maxted
Claudia looked surprised. ‘Evidence for the police, Holly.’
‘The poleeeece!?’ With effort, I lowered my pitch. ‘What have they got to do with anything?’
My sister shifted uncomfortably. ‘Well, you are going to report it, aren’t you?’
I nearly laughed. ‘What, to the police? What are they going to do? It was twenty-five days ago. It’s my word against his.’
‘But Holly, you say Nick came in the front door while all this was going on. He could be a valuable witness!’
‘Claudia, he thought we were having sex. Normal, fun sex. The issue here isn’t – like when a stranger does it to you – did Holly and Stuart have sex or not? It’s did I consent. And, plainly, Nick thought I did. Great. He could be a witness for Stuart.’
‘Oh. Oh. But you still have to report it!’
‘Who are they going to believe, the senior partner of a law firm or the woman who runs a dating agency and went out with her own client? Mmm, looking good.’
Claw’s face purpled. ‘Holly, it shouldn’t matter if you were Tallulah Bankhead, what you do for a job has nothing to do with it. Either you consent or you don’t, and if you don’t and he has sex with you then it’s rape – I’ll say it again and again until it sinks in!’
‘Claudia,’ I said, patiently. ‘Isn’t everything these days about image? PR? Spin? The truth is irrelevant, it’s what you seem to be that counts, and if I seem to be a, a, a good time girl’ – I cringed – ‘then who the hell is going to believe that I didn’t ask for it? Deserve it? Want it? There’s no way I’m adding to my misery by telling the police and having them sneer at me.’
Claw shuddered. ‘Christ, Hol. Where’s your faith in human nature. Don’t answer that one. But, Jesus, no one deserves to be raped, could any person, any decent person believe that a woman could do anything that would make her deserve to be raped? I mean, even if you were walking naked down a dark road late at night and it happened, yes, you were being reckless, but would people think you deserved it then? I mean, if a man walks down a road late at night and gets beaten up by thugs, do people think he deserves it? Or is it just women who deserve punishment? Christ almighty, what kind of sick society do we—’
Brrt brrt! Brrt –
I jumped up, glad of the excuse. Unfortunately, Emily had also jumped up and I trod heavily on her paw. The resulting yowl and bolt slowed me down so Claudia answered.
‘Oh, hi . . . can you speak to me? She’s busy right now . . . right . . . right . . . oh . . . I see . . . well, look, it was a misunderstanding . . . tell him I’ll call him tomorrow . . . no, tomorrow, I’m busy right now . . . yes . . . I’ll explain then. Yes, alright, okay, ta Nige, yeah, bye.’
Claudia replaced the receiver and eyed me gravely.
‘What now?’ I said. I felt my heart sink, although frankly if it sank any lower I’d excrete it.
‘Don’t worry, it’s nothing, I’ll tell you in a sec. But it kind of fits in with my feeling that it would be good for you to report Stuart – ah! wait! hear me out! You know that Nige and I have been worried about you. You might not realise but you’ve been behaving very strangely. I think the trauma has affected you in ways you don’t realise. It’s like you’ve been numbed. And I’m sure it’s self-protection, but it’s affected your career, your friendships, everything. Girl Meets Boy is on the brink, I’ve got to be honest with you. You are seeing everything through a filter, you’re viewing everyone and everything in relation to the rape, everyone is being judged as if they were Stuart. Now, that’s entirely understandable, Hol, but it’s dangerous.’
I suppose I looked dubious, because Claw continued, ‘That was Nige. Bernard just rang him, very upset.’
I blinked. I’d forgotten about Bernard.
‘Apparently, he took you out tonight because after two months of membership he still hadn’t been matched with the only woman he wanted to be matched with – Sam. He took you out to dinner to, A, ask you if you would please, please match him with Sam, because he had a nasty feeling you weren’t ever going to and he was too shy to approach her himself, and B, to ask your advice about what he should say to her on the date to make her like him, because he’s had very little experience with women and he didn’t want to make a hash of it. Only, he didn’t get the chance because halfway through his sentence you fled to the ladies and never came back.’
Realisation slowly dawned. ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Oh. Well, you see he was going on about there being one woman he liked and so I thought—’
Claudia smiled sadly. ‘I know. That’s my point. I think if Stuart had been suffocated at birth, you’d know that Bernard wouldn’t dream of propositioning a woman who hadn’t shown any interest in him. But the rape has made you see all men as various forms of Stuart. You’re stirring this trauma around your head like porridge and it’s congealing. As long as you do nothing, there’s nowhere for it to go. It’s just there, fermenting.’
‘Poor Bernard.’
‘Sitting in that restaurant. Nige said he waited an hour for you. He thought you had “stomach trouble”.’
We both burst out laughing. Then we stopped, and I said, ‘Claw. Know what? I’ve made a decision. I’m reporting that bastard Stuart to the police and may he rot in jail and lose his hair clump by clump.’
Claudia raised her mug of cold tea and clinked it against mine. ‘I’ll drink to that’ – she glanced at its stewed contents – ‘even though I’d really rather not.’
Chapter 24
WHEN I WAS fifteen, an insult employed to disparage one’s enemies was, ‘She can’t smile, it might crack her face!’ Ooh, crushing. But when I woke up the day after talking to Claudia, my lips were so dry and chapped that when I tried to smile, it did crack my face. Claw had slept in the spare room, and I came downstairs to find her rustling through the kitchen cupboards.
‘Bread’s in the freezer.’
‘Doh! How are you?’
I felt a swell of fear. It was a relief, her knowing. But also, it made it more real. I had the sense of standing on the edge of a cliff, wondering whether or not to jump.
‘Scared. I mean, how do I report it? Dial 999? It seems overdramatic. Or do I walk into the nearest police station?’
‘I think we’d be better off going to the local nick. I’ll come with you, won’t I?’
I looked at my sister. She had the stance of a bulldog and the expression to match. ‘Of course.’
The man at the front desk was scrawling doodles on a pad when we walked in. He seemed thrilled to see us, as if we were long-lost friends. I smiled, wondering what to say.
‘Good morning. We’d like to speak to a female police officer,’ boomed Claw.
He cleared his throat and leant on the counter with his elbows, hiding the doodle. ‘I see. And can I ask why?’
I felt Claudia tense beside me. ‘I need to report a, a sexual offence,’ I said quickly.
‘A rape,’ corrected my sister.
The man coughed, looked down at his pad. ‘Why don’t you make yourselves comfortable’ – he waved at a couple of hard plastic chairs – ‘and I’ll ring the CSU. A woman officer will be right with you. Can I get you a cup of tea?’ He paused, seemed to remember something, blushed purple, then added, ‘Actually, I – I’m so sorry, the tea – wait here.’ He rushed off.
I smiled at Claw. ‘We freaked him.’
Within minutes, the man reappeared, with a thirtysomething woman. I’d expected a blue uniform but she was wearing a burgundy jumper and a black and white dogtooth checked skirt. She had a maternal bosom and a kind face. All the same, she looked as though she could break up a fight in a pub. I decided I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of her. Her eyebrows were plucked in an I-brook-no-nonsense way.
‘Hello, ladies,’ she said. ‘I’m Constable Caroline Keats from the CSU. Caroline.’
We introduced ourselves. I blurted, ‘I’m the one who . . .’
She inclined her head. ‘Why don’t you come with me, Holly? We�
��ll go somewhere private where we can talk properly.’
Claw and I followed her meekly up stairs which smelled of bleach. She had solid policewoman’s calves. She led us into a small grey office. It contained a desk, a table and three chairs. It was the kind of place that makes you understand why people have to be paid to come into work.
‘I’d say make yourselves comfortable,’ said Caroline wrinkling her nose, ‘but I’m not sure that’s possible. Phew, it’s stuffy in here, do you want me to open a window?’
‘I’m fine, thank you,’ I said. I smiled faintly and sat down. ‘I’m probably wasting your time.’
Caroline regarded me gravely. ‘All the women say that. It’s very rarely the case.’
I noticed a notebook on the table and felt even worse.
‘It happened ages ago. Three and a half weeks. I don’t know why I’m here. It’s not like he dragged me off the street. It was in my house, we’d been on a date.’
Claudia clenched her fists but kept quiet. Caroline leaned forward. ‘Holly. It doesn’t matter where the assault took place. If he had sex with you and you didn’t consent to it, that’s rape. And very few rapes are stranger rapes. In most cases, the attacker is a known person, a boyfriend, or a colleague. Do you know his name?’
‘Stuart,’ I said. ‘Stuart Marshall. He’s a solicitor.’ Caroline wrote in her notebook, then placed it on the table.
‘First things first,’ she said. ‘Tea or coffee?’
‘Coffee,’ I squeaked. ‘Coffee,’ echoed Claudia. ‘Please,’ we added in chorus. Caroline disappeared and reappeared with mugs and a biscuit tin on a tray. The best of police hospitality, I thought, feeling undeserving. I hoped there were chocolate digestives.
‘They always include those glazed pink ones,’ she said. ‘Waste of a good biscuit, as far as I’m concerned.’
I peered into the tin, pleased to see browns among the pinks.
‘Now,’ said Caroline. ‘Why don’t I explain what we can do for you. Your attack occurred a while back, so it’s very unlikely that there’s still forensic evidence on you. But we still offer you the choice to see our forensic medical examiner. More for your health than for evidential reasons. She’s very gentle.’
My heart sank. There was no evidence. ‘He, he wore a condom. So . . . and I washed all my clothes in a boil wash.’ It took me a while to get the words out. ‘And I’ve had sex since.’
Caroline nodded, and scribbled. ‘Don’t worry about that. To be honest, after all this time, it’s irrelevant. Ideally, we’d still like you to be examined, Holly, but it’s your choice. We certainly won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. How do you feel about it?’
I nodded, not because I wanted to. ‘Fine,’ I lied. At least I’d had a bath.
Caroline smiled a sympathetic smile. ‘I know it’s not pleasant. But we want to do as much as we can. After that, I’d like to sit and talk to you and take a long statement. How does that sound?’
I nodded. ‘Fine.’
‘Now, tell me, Holly, what do you want us to do with this man?’
I blinked, surprised at the question. Was Stuart’s punishment up to me?
‘Well, I suppose . . . arrest him!’
I blushed at my boldness but Caroline nodded, a satisfied nod. ‘I only ask because some women don’t want us to arrest the man, and if they don’t want that, there’s not much we can do.’
I swallowed. ‘Would I have to go to court?’
‘Not necessarily. If it went to court, you could give evidence via a video link. And if you do go to court, you’ll remain anonymous. You do have options.’
I sighed.
Caroline smiled. ‘Tell you what. Why don’t I explain what tends to happen? After your examination, we’ll sit down – and it doesn’t have to be today, it’s whenever you prefer – and you can tell me what happened from beginning to end. How you met him, where he lives, details, what happened at the time of the rape, anything you remember like moles, scars, a peculiar smell, a complete description. I’m what they call a chaperone – I’ll be with you right through the investigation, and if you remember anything, or want to talk, he contacts you or anything – you can call me. What I do then is hand over your statement to the detective investigating the crime, and CID take over. They make checks, then they arrest him.’
Her saying it made it real. ‘Where will you arrest him? He’ll be so angry.’
‘I know what you’re saying, Holly. That’s why it’s important to decide now if you want him arrested.’
I thought for a second, then said grimly, ‘I do.’
Caroline nodded. ‘You’re doing the right thing. We’ll arrest him at his home, either late at night or early morning. If you like, we’ll tell you when we arrest him. Then he’ll be brought into the station and interviewed by CID.’
I felt like crying. ‘But what if he convinces them he didn’t do it? He’s very devious. I mean, he wore a condom.’ I paused. ‘I, see I told you, I mean, a real rapist. . . .’
Caroline shook her head. Her blonde hair was shoulder length but looked to have been heated and dyed too often to swish. ‘There are some wicked men out there, Holly,’ she replied, ‘and they all have their methods. Let’s hope he trips up in interview. He’ll make out it was consenting, and say he was being careful, but the condom could also mean he’d thought it out. Rape is the physical act of sexual intercourse without your consent. He forced himself on to you. And that is rape.’
I could see Claudia nodding vigorously out of the corner of my eye.
My throat dried up. ‘I do still want him arrested. But, but what happens after they let him go? He’ll want to kill me.’
Caroline patted my arm. ‘If he’s bailed, there’ll be conditions, Holly. We might put conditions on where he travels, he won’t be allowed within, say, a mile of your home. He won’t be allowed to contact you and if he does, you’ll tell us and we’ll arrest him immediately.’
She made it sound so simple. As if the law could control Stuart.
I met her eyes. ‘Now, love,’ she said. ‘If you’re ready and you’re sure you want to do this, I’ll take you to the examination suite. Now it’s not pleasant, but Dr Atkinson is a love, the best there is. If you’ve got any questions, do ask.’
She led me and Claudia down another corridor and into a room which looked like a lounge belonging to a person with indiscriminate taste. ‘We’ll chat here, afterwards,’ said Caroline. ‘Much nicer.’ I looked around. It was nice. Very unpolicey. A burgundy carpet, a sofa and easy chairs in shades of peach, and pale pink pastel walls, hung with prints of flowers and fields and trees. There was even a stereo. It was softly lit and well aired. I noticed tea and coffee facilities in a corner, and another big tin of biscuits. I was beginning to understand how the Met functioned.
Caroline gestured for Claudia to sit in a comfortable chair, and took me through to an adjoining room that looked like it meant business. It contained a doctor’s couch, bright lights, white work surfaces and Dr Heather Atkinson.
She was right. Dr Atkinson, a tall sallow woman with thick black hair and a gentle manner, was a love. But even though she told me what she was doing before she did it, and kept checking if it was uncomfortable, the procedure was hateful. I felt I was living someone else’s life. Afterwards, Dr Atkinson asked if I wanted to take a shower or bath. I’m not mad on other people’s baths at the best of times, but the police had certainly made an effort with theirs – fluffy towels, scented soaps, lotions and potions – and I did feel better for it. I thought of all the women who must have tried to purify themselves here.
When I returned to what, when they forgot themselves, the police referred to as the ‘rape suite’, Caroline was sitting in a hard-backed chair next to a small table, and Claudia was hunched in one of the squashier chairs. She was clasping her hands round her knees and Caroline seemed to be reassuring her. Both of them jumped up when they saw me.
‘Are you alright?’
She must
have piles of paperwork to get through, and she was treating me like an honoured guest! I nodded. The tears threatened to roll if I spoke.
‘Are you hungry?’ said Caroline. ‘Anything you want. Sandwiches, McDonald’s, steak and chips – just say. We can’t have you answering quesions on an empty stomach.’
My request of a baked potato with tuna and cheese was granted. Another female police officer delivered it, and when she left the room I burst into tears. Caroline looked concerned but didn’t say anything. She nudged the box of tissues on the table towards mc. Claudia said, ‘Steady on, Hol, you haven’t tasted it yet.’
I giggled while sniffing – a bad move which nearly resulted in a bogey bubble. ‘I feel so bad, coming here, all this.’
‘Holly,’ said Caroline patiently – she seemed to have infinite patience – ‘you were the victim of a crime, and the man who did it deserves to be inside. I want you to be here, I need you to tell me. This is what I’m here for. He violated you. He needs catching. You have nothing to feel guilty about. Remember that.’ She stopped. ‘You’re doing the right thing. It’s good to release your feelings. I’ve seen girls who bottle it up and they’re ruined for ever. Listen. If you don’t feel up to it today, we can wait a few days and take your statement then. You’re in control, okay, you’re the boss. Do you want to go for a wee?’
I sighed. ‘No. Today is fine.’
She smiled. ‘Now what about making a start on that potato, it’s starting to shrivel.’
Claudia, who’d requested a cheese sandwich, bit into it and said ‘nice’. I could tell she was trying to be unobtrusive. She hadn’t worn her red patent boots. ‘Hol,’ she added, ‘I’m going to give a statement too. It’s going to be fine.’
I glanced at Caroline to see if she too thought it was going to be fine. Her face was a mask.
I finished my potato and we began my statement. (‘This is going to be hard work,’ warned Caroline, ‘so if at any time you want to stop, you tell me.’) Claudia was ushered off to a less fluffy room to give her statement. (‘We don’t want Claudia being influenced by what you say, Holly. I’d rather she wasn’t here if she wants to make a statement, do you see?’) At first, I talked and talked – only two panic attacks, not bad, considering – and Caroline listened.