Nicholas shrugged and shook his head, “I don’t know how the Defence expects you to see this as a consensual situation, or how it could be interpreted that anyone would voluntarily have their body treated like this. The Defence’s claim that Miss Sharpe and Mr Farmer engaged in consensual bondage and sadomasochistic sex is a lie. Miss Sharpe wasn’t in a relationship with this man. He was a boarder in her father’s home, and he took advantage of the fact that Miss Sharpe had no other relatives in contact. This was planned, this was done with malice, and if it hadn’t been for Yvette Rolands then Miss Sharpe would be dead.”
Nicholas picked up a piece of paper and looked at the jury, “You heard Mrs Rolands’ testimony, and you read her statement. You know that she was a nurse who always used the stairs to enter and exit the building. You heard her testimony that as she left for work at four in the morning on May thirteen, she heard Miss Sharpe crying for help in the stairwell. You heard her testimony that she phoned the Police via the emergency number and demanded they attend the scene. You heard the recording of Mrs Rolands, still talking to emergency services and not knowing who was crying or why, venturing further down the stairs to see what was going on. You heard her coming upon Mr Farmer and Miss Sharpe in the stairwell and describing the scene. You also heard what Mr Farmer said as Miss Sharpe pleaded with Mrs Rolands for help. Do you remember what Mr Farmer said to Mrs Rolands? It was something that she said she would never forget, and it’s something none of us should forget either. Mr Farmer said, ‘Mind your own business, she’s faking it’. Yes, that’s what he said. You heard it on the Police recording of the emergency call.”
Nicholas threw the paperwork on the table, “Bearing in mind that Miss Sharpe weighed seventy pounds in the old scale, the weight of a child, and that Mr Farmer is five foot ten and at the time weighed a hundred and fifty kilograms, or around three hundred and thirty pounds, was she faking her distress? No. She wasn’t. Mrs Rolands’ herself was distressed by what she saw. She observed a large man, wearing only shorts, dragging a frail, bruised, bloodied, naked woman down the stairs by her hair, by her hair, ladies and gentleman, but she was to mind her own business because Miss Sharpe was faking it. You heard Mrs Rolands’ teary description to the court of following a blood trail and looking over the rail where she saw Miss Sharpe. She said that Miss Sharpe was scrambling to get her feet onto the steps as she was being dragged by her hair. Mrs Rolands’ broke down as she told the court how Miss Sharpe’s eyes met hers and she weakly begged for help.
“She recounted that Miss Sharpe was being dragged like a bag of garbage, head first, down the stairs and when she saw Mrs Rolands’ she tried to cover herself up and protect her body. Mrs Rolands’ said in her evidence, and I quote ‘her arms were flailing desperately, alternating between trying to cover her body and protect her body from the impact of the stairs’. You heard Mrs Rolands’ testimony that she required counselling after seeing this. She, a trauma nurse with twenty five years of experience, was traumatised by what she saw on the stairs. But Mr Farmer wants you to believe that Miss Sharpe was faking it. Despite Mrs Rolands’ begging Mr Farmer to stop and to let Miss Sharpe go and telling him that the Police were on their way, he did not release Miss Sharpe until he heard the sirens. Mrs Rolands’ told you how when she reached Miss Sharpe, and gave her the cardigan off her back, Miss Sharpe clawed at her and clung to her like she had been saved from drowning. But according to Mr Farmer, she was faking it.”
Nicholas walked back to the table, “The seriousness of this man’s crimes cannot be disregarded. He detained a young woman for advantage, and repeatedly sexually assaulted her and emotionally abused her and then violently terminated a pregnancy. There is no question in my mind that had Mr Farmer not been caught in his final act of violating the victim, he would have murdered her and no one would have known. Mr Farmer had already taken all of Miss Sharpe’s clothing in garbage bags to a basement storage room of the apartment complex. Mr Farmer had already lined the boot of his car with gardening plastic. Mr Farmer had every intention of disposing of Miss Sharpe like she was the garbage he was dragging down the stairs.”
He stood in front of the jury again, “When you’re considering your verdict, and the punishment that befits this crime, I urge you to remember what you’ve heard. Remember him telling you this was a consensual relationship and she was faking her distress. Remember the evidence that counteracts his claim. I urge you to make sure he be found guilty and charged for each criminal act he committed, and to consider a sentence that will see each charge served separately not concurrently. Consider everything this woman has lost, due to one man’s selfishness and his belief that he was entitled to use Miss Sharpe’s body for his own satisfaction. He thinks he can get away with it. For the sake of Miss Sharpe and any other women that may have the misfortune of meeting him, do not let him get away with it.”
Verity thought Nicholas was very good at what he did. It was shocking and confronting, but it was absolutely correct. Verity almost thought that she had watched a performance on a stage as he gave a passionate plea to the judicial system on her behalf. She wanted to applaud as he finished, and looked at him sitting down beside her. Aside from being a good looking man, he also seemed compassionate, genuine and intelligent. She used to know a man like that. He was someone who would never have allowed this to happen to her. If he had been here now in the aftermath, he would treat her tenderly and make her feel loved. But he wasn’t here. He was nowhere.
When the court was dismissed, Verity got to her feet and looked at Nicholas. “I can’t thank you enough for being on my side, Mr Day. I don’t know what the outcome is going to be, but I know you did the best you could for me and I couldn’t have asked for a better lawyer. Thank you.”
Nicholas put his hand out to shake her hand, “He’s not going to win here, and you can’t let him win up here.” He tapped his forehead. “Surround yourself with good people and laugh as much as you can.”
Verity smiled, “Thank you again. I will.” She picked up her handbag and walked out of the courtroom. She had thought she should go out for a drink to celebrate the fact that it was over, but decided it would be better to go home. She was going to get dressed in her pyjamas, eat ice cream, and watch the funniest movies she could find.
Chapter 14
Verity walked into the bank and put her code into the side door. She walked along behind the tellers and into the staff room to put her bag in her locker. She took her resignation letter from her handbag and entered the combination for her locker.
“I hear you were raped.”
Verity turned around in surprise, “Hi Jana.”
“So what was it like?”
Verity furrowed her brow, “What was what like?”
“Being raped,” Jana replied, “Is it scary like it is in the movies or do you just lie there staring into space?”
“I don’t understand the question,” Verity replied.
“Sure, it’s none of my business. It’s interesting though. I’ve never met anyone who was actually raped before.”
Verity swallowed, “So, where did you hear that?”
“I never tell my sources,” Jana shrugged and walked out of the staff room.
Verity rested her head on the locker. Obviously Brad had decided to tell everyone about her court case. She wondered if he’d told them all the intimate details that he heard in court or whether he’d put his own spin on it.
“You’re late, by the way, and John wants to see you in his office,” Jana said.
“Okay,” Verity replied, lifting her head from the locker. She adjusted her vest and walked out of the staff room. John’s office was up four stairs around the back of the bank. She made her way to his office and knocked on his door. “Hi John, you wanted to see me?”
“Yes, yes, I did, come in,” he said, moving his chair on wheels closer to the desk.
Verity closed the door and sat down opposite John. She held the letter firmly in her hand. “What did you want to see me ab
out?”
“This is a little delicate,” he said, “I don’t know if you’re aware of our rules.”
“What rules in particular? I’m pretty sure I’ve read all of the rules in the policies and procedures guide,” Verity said.
“I’m sure you have,” he said, “So you already know that it’s not appropriate for staff to be in a relationship with each other.”
Verity folded her arms, “I wasn’t aware of that, but I can assure you that I’m not in a relationship with anyone here.”
John nodded, “True, he broke up with you, but that’s really what’s it about and that’s why we discourage dating in-house. When two people break up, things get awkward, and one of them ends up leaving. I have your exit form here.”
“Excuse me?”
“Last in, first out. He’s been here longer than you have so he has more security of tenure. Plus he obviously had good reason to end your relationship. It won’t count as you being fired if you complete this form, explaining why you’re leaving.”
“Why am I leaving? I’m not in a relationship with anyone here.”
“Please don’t make this difficult. Just fill in the form, hand in your vest and badge and enjoy the rest of the day off,” John said, sliding a pen across the table.
Verity concluded that there was no way out of this. She picked up the pen and looked at the form, “Okay.”
“You should probably open the door again,” John said, “I don’t want to be accused of anything.”
“I beg your pardon?” Verity replied. John looked at her but didn’t answer. “What do you mean, John? Accused of what?” she asked.
“You had a rape trial and Brad said you accused him of raping you. I mean, how many times can one person be raped? You do know what sex is, don’t you? I don’t want you to accuse me of raping you because I shook your hand or something.”
Verity shook her head. She wanted to say that a person could be raped at least a hundred times in her experience, but she didn’t. She folded her arms. “I see how it is. He lied to you and you’re just going to accept it. Boys club and all that. Fine. I’ll fill this in at the lunch table. I expect to be paid for the next two weeks, seeing as you gave me no notice, and I won’t be back. I’ll leave now.”
“That’s fair enough,” John said, “I’ll see if I can arrange cash. Sorry to see you go.”
“No you’re not. You don’t care about me one iota. It’s fine for you to check out my arse, and use my name badge as an excuse to look at my breasts, but all of a sudden you hear ‘rape case’ and I’m enemy number one. It’s fine, John. I don’t want to be here anyway, so you beat me to it. Brad is a liar, and he’s dangerous. Maybe not to you, but he is to women. You have no idea whose side you’re on, but you obviously have about as much respect for women as he does.” Verity opened his door and walked back down the stairs and into the staff room. She ripped her resignation letter in half and sat down at the table. The questions on the form were fairly straightforward. Why was she leaving? She wanted to write ‘because some men are arseholes’ but thought it best to be professional. She filled in the form answering all the questions and signed her name at the end.
“Did John fire you?”
Verity looked up and saw Casey standing in the doorway. She nodded.
“That sucks,” Casey said, walking into the room and putting her arm around her shoulder. “He’s an arsehole. I used to date him.”
“I thought it was against policy,” Verity said, “That’s what I was told. That’s basically why I’m being asked to quietly resign without a fuss, but the truth is I can’t work here anymore. I’m not fired, I guess, I’m being forced to resign but I was going to quit anyway.”
“John has always been a hypocritical dick-face. I went out with him in high school not here. He had more arms than a centipede has legs,” she said, “He’s screwing Hailey downstairs in the foreign exchange, and he’s married with grandkids. Forget it, Verity. You’re too good for this place anyway. You’re smart. You have a university degree. You can do better than work as a bank teller. And you can definitely do better than Brad. He’s pretty but his dick and his brain don’t operate at the same time.”
Verity smiled, “Thanks, Casey. I’ll miss our coffee chats.”
Casey shrugged, “We’ll just have less of them. I’d like to keep in touch.”
Verity nodded and gave Casey her phone number. “I guess I’ll see you around. Can you take this to John for me?”
Casey nodded and hugged Verity as she stood up. “I’m sorry for what you went through. I can’t imagine how hard it must be not to lose faith in humanity when there are so many inhuman humans. You’re a beautiful girl.”
“Did Brad tell everyone what happened to me?”
“He told a few people, and they told a few more. I don’t know how much of it is true and I didn’t pass anything on. I told them they should be ashamed of themselves and to not listen to gossip, but I’m in my fifties, who listens to me?”
“I do,” Verity said, “Thanks for all your help and the training you gave me. I look forward to seeing you out in the real world.”
“If you’re at a loose end for Christmas, I always make too much food.”
Verity looked at the short, round woman before her and smiled. She reminded her of his mother, and she wished she was her mother. “Thank you. I’ll let you know.” Casey hugged her and wished her all the best. “I think I should let them know how I feel, Casey. I think it’s important to tell people how you feel while you have the chance. I really think it will be therapeutic for me, and you might not want to miss this,” Verity said. She threw the vest and badge on the table, and took her handbag out of the locker. She walked out to where the tellers sat behind the glass to serve customers and stopped behind Jana. “Hi, I’m leaving permanently but before I do, I want to tell you something.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet,” Jana said, getting off her chair and putting her arms out.
Verity took a step back and put her hands up, “No thanks. I wanted to tell you that I think you’re a superficial twat, and you should have spent more time at school actually listening and learning instead of chasing boys. You gossip about everyone without a clue what they’re saying about you, and you have no idea what a bitch you sound like. Also, hemming your work skirt up four inches higher than everyone else’s doesn’t make you sexy. It’s high school mentality to attract high school boys, and you have knobbly knees that no one wants to see.”
“Don’t cause a scene,” John said.
Verity walked down to where Brad was sitting. “Brad, you’ve watched entirely too many pornos and you couldn’t get a woman off with a how-to guide. You’re a rapist and an arsehole, and one of the least sexy men I’ve ever known. I expect you’ll be in prison before you’re thirty.”
“Don’t respond, Brad,” John said, “Just leave, Verity, I’ll pay you in cash.”
“Fine,” Verity replied, putting her hand out. John placed thousands of dollars in cash in her hand and pointed towards the door. Verity shoved the money in her handbag and walked to the door. She turned around and looked at the staff and turned back towards the door. She put her finger on the button for the PA system, “Attention all staff and customers, please be advised that Brad Matthews is a rapist and an arsehole. Also, John Dolton is having an affair with Hailey in the Foreign Exchange, and he’s given her genital warts.” Verity turned around and gave John the middle finger.
She walked out the staff door and into the bank where the customers were queued. She walked out the automatic doors and down the stairs. She couldn’t help but laugh. It felt so good to do that but it was completely unprofessional. She assumed she wouldn’t be seeking a reference from them. She looked around and wondered what to do with the rest of her day. She decided to walk down to the Sunshine Café and order herself a big breakfast. She was going to celebrate being out of the bank and away from Brad.
Verity ordered at the counter and took her number on a pole
to a table. She opened her bag and looked at the cash. She wondered if it was supposed to be a deposit and whether she might be accused of stealing it. She sighed and closed her bag. A waiter brought her coffee and said the breakfast wouldn’t be long. He walked back to the counter and greeted the only other customer in the café, “Mrs Valques, you’re early for morning tea, good to see the trains run on time even if the roads don’t. The usual?”
“Krystal?” Verity said, “Excuse me, you’re not Krystal Valques are you?”
The woman standing at the counter turned and looked at her. She nodded. Verity laughed and got up from her table. She walked to Krystal and put her arms around her. Krystal pushed her away, “What are you doing?”
“Sorry, oh, I’m sorry. I really wanted to hug you.”
“How do you know my name?”
“I only know you’re name. Like you only know mine. We never even saw each other before.”
Krystal folded her arms, “I’m completely confused by this conversation, but I’m not sure if that’s my fault or yours. Could you start over, honey?”
Verity licked her lips and shuffled her shoulders. She put her hand out, “Hello, I’m Kate, also known as Verity Sharpe.”
Krystal looked down at Verity’s hand and back at her face. She smiled and wrapped her arms around her, “You’re really okay.”
Verity laughed and wrapped her arms around Krystal, “Yes, yes, I am.”
“How come you know who I am?” Krystal asked.
“Your statement came up in my trial. You were worried about me. You never even met me, but you were worried about me.”
Krystal nodded, “Yes, of course I was. Neil said how enthusiastic you were and he thought you’d be a real asset because you were a finance major. When you didn’t show up for your first day, I went to him and said you hadn’t arrived. He told me your name was Kate, and the rest of the paperwork was filed with HR and he had to go to a meeting. I asked him to describe what you looked like so I could keep an eye out for you if you were running late. He did and said you may have got the day wrong but to give you a call. He handed me a sticky note with your phone number, so I called you. I kept trying and trying and it was starting to make me feel sick. I took the number home with me and tried at night too. I thought something had happened to you, and that it wasn’t normal. After I called about fifty times I decided to call the Police. I hate it when things are unresolved. The Police called me and said not to panic because you went overseas so stop calling.”
Running Rings Page 12