by Jane Lythell
‘Are you sure?’
I wasn’t keen on her doing that but I was under too much pressure to argue. It was nearly ten when I decided I could leave the station. My shoulders and neck were rigid with the tension I’d been holding in all day. I stood in front of my mirror and shrugged my shoulders up and down several times to release the tightness. I headed for the ladies’ toilet and as I walked in I heard a woman sobbing behind a locked cubicle door. Nearly everyone had gone for the night and I wondered if it was one of the cleaners. I wanted to be out of there so much but there was something about the quality of the crying that disturbed me. I tapped on the door and asked if I could help. The person stopped mid-sob. Slowly the door opened and Harriet came out of the cubicle. She was a mess, with mascara smudged under her eyes and her lips had that swollen quality you get after a long bout of crying.
‘Harriet! What’s wrong?’
She went over to the handbasin and splashed cold water on her face. There were no paper towels left and she looked around and went to get a piece of toilet paper to wipe her face.
‘Harriet?’
Finally, she looked at me.
‘What’s happened?’
‘Julius Jones assaulted me. Sexually assaulted me.’
I was stunned. We both stood there in shocked silence looking at each other for a long moment. Then I took her to my office and got her to sit down. She slumped onto the sofa and was trembling violently. I poured her a glass of water and sat down next to her and my hands were shaking too. She sipped at the water and hiccoughed a couple of times.
‘This happened tonight?’
She put her glass down on the floor and a ragged sigh escaped from deep within her.
‘Yes.’
‘Here in this building?’
‘Yes.’
‘Where did this happen?’
‘In one of the edit suites,’ she said in a tiny voice. She wasn’t looking at me.
I felt sick even thinking about it. We don’t have a dedicated human resources person at StoryWorld. Any problems on staff welfare fall to our operations director Tim Cooper.
‘I better call our operations director,’ I said gently.
‘No!’ Harriet leapt to her feet, kicking over the glass in the process, and water leaked onto the floor.
‘You’re terribly upset. But we must do this right and I must report it.’
‘You’re not to tell him!’
She didn’t look upset now, she looked furious, and the rapid change in her demeanour was unnerving.
‘But this is so serious and—’
‘I won’t have them talking about me. I won’t! I told you but if you tell anyone else I’ll kill myself.’
She said those exact words. Then she ran out of my office, hurled herself down the stairs and sprinted out of the station. I gave chase but by the time I got outside there was no sign of her in any direction. I went back inside and the security guard looked at me curiously. He had seen Harriet fly out of the building.
‘Staff troubles?’ he asked.
‘Can you call me a cab straight away, please?’ I said.
I sensed his eyes following me as I walked up the stairs to get my stuff. I looked down towards Julius’s office and it was in darkness. Apart from the security guard the building was empty.
I have never had to deal with anything like this before and sitting in the back of the cab I realised I had mishandled it. Aren’t you supposed to get a victim of sexual assault checked by a doctor? And wasn’t it my duty to report an accusation like this immediately? But Harriet said I must say nothing. I was so anxious about her. She had looked almost deranged when I said I needed to report it. I rang her mobile twice but it went to voicemail. I was also worrying about what Florence might be up to at Paige’s house at this late hour. I felt I would explode if anything else stressful happened to me.
Chalk Farm flat, 11.15 p.m.
The moment I got in I checked on Flo’s room and she was lying in bed asleep. I stood looking down at her face, my sweet innocent girl, then crept out of the room closing the door softly behind me. There was no way I was going to be able to sleep. I made a pot of tea and sat at my kitchen table and called Fenton, always my port in a storm.
She listened and understood the significance of it at once, remembering another call I’d made to her seven years before.
‘It brought back memories of that night, you know...’
‘Of course it would,’ Fenton said.
‘I felt sickened but you know the first thought I had? That maybe I had led him on and maybe she had too because she’s been hovering around him all the time and that thought makes me feel so bad.’
‘You did not lead him on and even if she did that is no justification for an assault.’
‘I know it isn’t. I feel a total cow. I’ve never liked Harriet but I need to remember she’s a young girl and I have a duty of care to her and...’
I had started to cry and couldn’t say any more.
‘Let those tears out,’ Fenton said in her lovely warm voice, which made me cry even harder.
‘I think of Flo and of all the predatory men out there and how am I ever going to protect her?’ I gulped.
‘You’re doing a very good job.’
‘But what do I do about Harriet? She’s forbidden me to say anything.’
‘You need to take legal advice. I know a good woman who specialises in cases like this. Take this number down and call her first thing.’
‘I will. I keep trying Harriet on her mobile but she’s not picking up.’
‘Then there’s nothing you can do till tomorrow, is there, sweetheart?’
‘But she won’t do anything silly, will she? She went from tears to rage in an instant and she looked so strange. I’m worried she might do something, you know... dangerous.’
‘Kill herself?’
‘I know it sounds melodramatic but she said she’d kill herself if I said anything about it to anyone.’
‘Leave it for tonight, love. You’re feeling anxious but I’m sure she won’t do anything.’
I walked around the flat straightening things. I emptied the dishwasher and dried the bottom of the cups before putting them away in the cupboard. I watered the plants on the window sill. It was nearly one but I knew I would not be able to sleep because the incident with Julius seven years ago kept flashing into my mind as a series of vivid images. The moment he had slammed me against the wall was the most vivid of all. I checked on Flo once more and she slept on peacefully. I bent down and kissed her downy cheek and made myself go to bed. I knew tomorrow was going to be a very difficult day.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
StoryWorld TV station, London Bridge
I was in early and feeling wrung out. I had left the flat before Flo was up. Her school is fifteen minutes away and she leaves it late to fling on her clothes and walk to school with Rosie, her classmate. If only she would spend more time with Rosie, who has two younger brothers, a sensible mum and the added attraction of a dog. Flo used to hang out at their house all the time but she’s seen less of Rosie recently. It’s the superior attraction of Paige at work. I gave a sharp knock on her door before I left and popped my head round the door.
‘I’m getting up,’ she said in a drowsy voice.
‘I’ve got to get in early. Your lunch money’s on the table. See you later, sweets.’
As soon as I was behind my desk with the door closed I rang the lawyer whose number Fenton had given me. Her phone went to answer-machine and stated that her hours were from eight a.m. so I walked downstairs and spotted Julius entering the building. I rushed into the Hub to get away from him. Ten minutes later I slipped into the gallery to watch Fizzy opening the show. I told the director I was handing over to him. It was rare for me to miss the live transmission.
‘Everything OK?’ he asked.
‘I’ve got to make a phone call that can’t wait,’ I said.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll cover for you.’
‘What alarmed me the most was her saying she’d kill herself if I reported the incident.’
‘And have you said anything to anyone?’
‘No I haven’t,’ I said, thinking that Fenton didn’t count. She was the most honourable person in the world.
‘Good, because you have a duty of confidentiality here. Under no circumstances must you confront the accused man. That would be a breach of confidentiality and would muddy the waters of any future action.’
‘I have no intention of confronting him! I want to know what I should do, what’s the right thing to do.’
‘You must reassure your employee this is entirely confidential until she makes a formal complaint. Sexual assault is a criminal act and you should encourage her to report it to the police. The Metropolitan Police has a specialist unit called Sapphire that deals with rape and sexual assault. It would be worth you looking it up. There’s a lot of guidance on their site.’
I wrote down the details she gave me.
‘I’ll do that.’
‘Tell your employee nothing can happen until she makes that formal complaint to the police.’
‘OK.’
‘It’s also a good idea to note down what she said last night, as precisely as you can, as an aide-memoire for your eyes only. Do this straight away. It’s so easy to forget exactly what is said in these situations.’
‘And what should I do about her today? She’s not answering her phone. Should I go round to her house?’
‘I would advise against you doing that. I suggest you tell her to take the day off but that you will need to speak to her soon.’
I thanked her and she said she was available for further advice and would invoice me. As I put the phone down I realised I would have to pay for this legal advice personally. I couldn’t claim it as a work expense.
I started an email to my home address on everything that had happened last night. Outside the office I saw Simon arrive at his desk and pull his rucksack off. He looked over at me as if to come in but I shook my head. I noted down the words Harriet had used. She had given me few details of what had happened but she had said that the assault took place in an edit suite downstairs. I noted down the time I found her in the Ladies’ cubicle and how she had clearly been crying for a long time. I wrote that I hadn’t seen Julius in the building after about seven-thirty that evening, but I was stuck in my office fielding calls from the media and he could have been in the building. I described how Harriet had reacted so dramatically when I said I should report the assault to our operations director and how she had run out. I dated the document, sent it to my home email and deleted it off the StoryWorld system at once. Then I called Harriet again. Her phone went straight to voicemail so I left a message saying she should take the day off and I reassured her I had spoken to no one about what she had told me. I ended by saying please call me as soon as she felt strong enough to do so.
I found the link to Sapphire, the specialist unit run by the Met. I wondered if this was set up in the wake of all the complaints about how the police treat rape victims. There was a list of frequently asked questions and definitions of assault. Sexual assault was defined as if someone intentionally touches another person, the touching is sexual and the person does not consent. Serious sexual assault entailed penetration so what Julius did to me with his fingers that night would count as that.
There was also an interactive graphic called My Decision. This was a step-by-step guide to what you should do if you had, or knew a person who had been sexually assaulted. I clicked on the button: I know someone who has been assaulted. This took me through to questions like: How can we preserve evidence? Too late for that, I thought. There was a button on Information about the Havens and I clicked on this. The Havens turned out to be three sexual assault referral centres in London. They were open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week and were managed by King’s College Hospital. They were independent of the Met and it said that they would not share information with the police unless the victim wanted them to. I took down the details.
It was time for the morning meeting and I was dreading walking into that room with Julius at the head of the table. Harriet’s allegation and my memories were scouring my mind. I was going to find it a huge challenge even to look at him. I reached the meeting room and slid into my seat, busying myself with the running order of the day’s show. I’d called down to the gallery when the credits were rolling and the director told me that the show had gone according to plan. Tim Cooper was there today. He rarely attends these meetings as he’s not a programme maker. He is the person who will have to deal with this when Harriet reports her allegation. He is a company man through and through and not big on sensitivity.
Julius, who never misses a thing, asked me why I had missed the show and I mumbled that a pressing staff issue had arisen. Then I raised my eyes to his face and held my look, even though my heart was swooping and dipping. He didn’t react in any unusual way at all.
‘As I predicted, StoryWorld is all over the papers,’ he said with satisfaction.
He had spread a pile of newspapers on the meeting table. Fizzy and Bob were turning the pages and she was elated at the number of them which featured her looking pert and the former Labour cabinet member looking murderous. How could Julius be acting so normally when he had assaulted a young girl? He pushed The Times over to Fizzy.
‘That’s a good shot,’ he said.
Thoughts were knocking around my head like a ball in a squash court. Perhaps he didn’t do it? It was only an allegation. Perhaps Harriet had lied?
‘I like this one best,’ Fizzy said, holding up the Daily Mail.
But why would she make up something like that? And she had been dreadfully upset, almost deranged. The headlines above the pictures of Fizzy were all anti-Labour except for the Daily Mirror which was more critical of Fizzy’s line of questioning. I was expected to coo at all this coverage but could not say a word. Harriet had already lied to me, hadn’t she? She said she was going to visit her granny in hospital when she was actually going to a film premiere. But this was a lie of a different order. Surely Harriet wouldn’t, couldn’t, lie about something as serious as this. It could be career-ending for Julius if it was true. It could mean prison!
‘All good PR for the station,’ Julius said. I remembered how he wouldn’t take no for an answer when he had come on to me. That was seven years ago. Now he was an even more powerful man and Harriet was twenty years his junior. If I had found it difficult to push him off me how much more intimidated would she be? I recalled the sound of her sobbing. Something very bad had happened.
Now Julius was saying he had asked Tim to join us because we needed to start a process of cutting the budget for the next six months. Bob and I exchanged glances at this; it was so like Julius to spring this on us.
‘Ad revenues are down again this quarter,’ he said.
‘I thought you’d made some good deals on sponsorship,’ Bob said.
‘I have but I can’t work miracles. Over to you, Tim.’
Tim said cuts had to be made across the board and he had come along to update us on the process of identifying what those cuts should be. I have a decent amount of money to hire in freelancers and without it I couldn’t produce the amount of TV we do with my tiny in-house team. Every year I have to fight to retain this particular pot of money. Tim had opened a folder of spreadsheets and he pulled out my features budget and laid it in front of me.
‘The features freelance budget will have to be cut, Liz,’ he said.
‘No!’ I said.
I’d said it loudly and Tim looked pained.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I can’t accept any cut if you expect me to
produce the same amount of output. I need every penny I’ve got to keep us on air.’
Tim shot a look at Julius.
‘The news budget is getting cut too,’ Julius said.
‘Oh, is it?’ Bob said.
‘Bob’s team is three times the size of my team. I have to be able to hire in freelancers.’
‘And you think I don’t?’ Bob growled.
Julius put up his hand.
‘I’m not going to continue with this now. We wanted to give you a heads up that a cut in budget is required from all teams. I will have one-to-one meetings with you this week and we can go through the figures in detail then.’
‘Good plan,’ Tim said.
‘Fine by me,’ Bob said.
My face was hot and I did not trust myself to say anything. The men were closing ranks as they always did. I remembered their smart executive toilet with the three hand dryers and the ladies’ toilet last night with Harriet searching for a paper towel to dry her face. Julius picked up his papers; his signal to us that the meeting was over. I rushed from the room. I could hear Bob and Tim talking about last night’s football. I was not ready to face my team so I walked downstairs and out of the building.
I strode along by the river away from StoryWorld, sat down on a bench and thought about Julius and Harriet and Julius and me. Seven years ago I had not reported him. The only action I had taken was to write him a letter. It was Christmas and I was in Glasgow with Mum and Flo and I had spent the days agonising over what words to use. In the end I wrote as truthfully as I could about how his actions on the night of the party had made me feel. I acknowledged that I had responded to his kisses at first but then he had tried to push things too far, too fast and he should have stopped at my first ‘No’. His roughness and his insistence had frightened and upset me. I read the draft over the phone to Fenton. She said I was taking on too much responsibility for what had happened but I had been as direct as I could and it was how I felt. I put the much amended letter into an envelope, wrote Private and Confidential on the front and sellotaped it shut. Then I slid it under the door to his office on the morning I knew he was returning to work. My Christmas had been ruined.