The Favour

by Rebecca Freeborn

Their eyes met over the file. Quinn’s expression was tremulous, nervous, hopeful. She opened the file. The pages inside were loose, bundled on top of each other haphazardly. Quinn turned them over one by one, inspecting the content. There were leave request forms, contract renewal letters, copies of invoices for professional development, notices of pay rises and bonuses, but nothing damning. Then – ‘Look at this!’ – Quinn held aloft an invoice. ‘“Sexual harassment training for managers”. This is the sort of thing you send your whole management team to, but I never heard anything about it.’

  Hannah indicated the file. ‘Keep going.’

  Quinn flicked through a few more pages, then stopped. ‘Whoa.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘It’s a formal complaint from Andrea Finch – god, I remember her now, she was only here for six months … it’s for inappropriate touching and talk of a sexual nature.’ She unlocked her phone and took a photo of the page.

  ‘Quinn, don’t,’ Hannah said.

  ‘Why not? I need all the evidence I can get.’

  ‘You can’t use that as evidence. It’s protected by privacy laws. At best, it’ll jeopardise your investigation; at worst, you’ll be arrested.’

  Quinn sat back on her bottom, deflated. ‘So why are we even bothering with this if we can’t use it? What’s the point?’

  Hannah smiled. ‘We can’t use it, but the police can. Because the offence happened in the workplace, your employers are obliged to cooperate with the investigation. They’ll need to surrender these records to the police. They can find all this. They can call the women in for questioning.’

  Quinn looked at her, eyes shining. ‘God I love you.’

  ‘And I love you. But let’s keep going through the file. We need to make sure there’s enough here for the police to go on.’

  By the time they’d reached the end of the file, they’d found five women in total. Five different records alluding to sexual harassment.

  ‘You were right,’ Quinn said in a dazed sort of voice. ‘He’s a predator.’

  The records were brief, clinical; intentionally so, to Hannah’s expert eye. The language used was deliberately vague, likely in anticipation of these records one day being dragged out into the light. Hannah would be willing to bet the offences had, in reality, been far more serious than these records let on. And that meant the partners of the agency had been covering up Simon’s behaviour for years … which, in turn, made them complicit in Quinn’s rape. But Hannah wasn’t quite ready to tell Quinn that yet.

  Despite Hannah’s protests, Quinn insisted on taking photos of every one of the records, though she swore the pictures were just for her, to prove to herself that she wasn’t at fault for what had happened.

  They’d just put the file back in the cabinet when there came the clang of the back door they’d come through earlier. For a second, both women froze as laughter filtered down the hallway and under the closed door. Then Quinn moved fast, lunging for the light switch and turning it off, plunging them into darkness. Hannah remained crouched on the floor, fear radiating through her veins. This had been a mistake. She should’ve known better than to break the law like this. The warmth of Quinn’s body touched her arm, and she felt for her friend’s hand in the dark.

  ‘Who is it?’ she whispered.

  ‘I think it’s Penny, one of the interns,’ Quinn whispered back. ‘Sounds like she’s brought a guy here.’

  Hannah crushed Quinn’s hand so hard she felt the fine bones under her skin. ‘What if they come in here?’

  Quinn didn’t answer as the footsteps drew closer up the hallway and the woman giggled. Hannah held her breath.

  ‘Where’s your office?’ came a man’s voice.

  Penny let out a high-pitched laugh. ‘They pay me crap all; I don’t have a bloody office! This is the only office worth seeing.’

  Their footsteps got closer and closer and just when Hannah thought her heart was about to explode, a strip of light slipped under the door and the voices grew quieter. The two of them didn’t dare to move as the voices were replaced by what sounded very much like drunken kissing. After a few tense minutes, there was a bump against the wall that sent Hannah’s heart beating so hard she was sure the couple must be able to hear it in the office next door. But then there was another bump, a groan, a small gasp, and the bumping resumed, settling into a rhythm that was unmistakeable.

  ‘Oh my god!’ Quinn whispered, her words muffled as if she had her hand over her mouth. ‘They’re rooting on Alistair’s desk!’

  Hannah couldn’t see the amusement in the situation. Her nerves were jangling; if she didn’t get out of here soon, the safe walls of her life would start crumbling. If they were found out, if the couple in the next room called the police, how was she going to explain this to Ethan?

  ‘Let’s sneak out now,’ she hissed.

  ‘We can’t,’ Quinn whispered back. ‘We left the filing cabinet open and the keys are somewhere on the floor. If Svetlana finds it like this on Monday morning, there’ll be real trouble.’

  The thudding of the desk against the wall grew faster and louder; Penny’s heavy breathing graduated to little yelps.

  ‘Can I put it in your bum?’ the guy said breathlessly.

  ‘Not here, Matt,’ Penny said.

  Quinn fell against Hannah, her body vibrating with helpless, silent laughter. Hannah squeezed her hand harder to remind her of the danger they’d put themselves in.

  Finally, the gasps and cries from next door crescendoed, then lapsed into silence.

  ‘That was hot,’ the guy said after a while.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Does your boss keep any booze in here?’

  Hannah groaned internally. They should’ve escaped while the couple were occupied. If they stayed for a drink, she and Quinn could be stuck here in the dark for another hour.

  ‘Nah, let’s just go,’ Penny said. She sounded sober now, and possibly a little nervous at what she’d just done.

  Hannah listened with relief as they left the office and their footsteps receded down the hallway. As soon as the back door closed, Quinn stood and switched the light on. Hannah blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light, watching Quinn lock the filing cabinet and return the keys to Svetlana’s drawer.

  ‘How am I going to look her in the eye after that?’ Quinn said, still chuckling. ‘Still, you’ve gotta give her points. That was pretty ballsy.’

  Now the danger had passed, Hannah could see the funny side. ‘What better revenge for getting screwed by your boss than screwing on your boss’s desk?’

  Quinn laughed. ‘Ready to go?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Thanks for doing this for me,’ Quinn said when they were back in the car. ‘I feel like I’m finally getting some control back.’

  ‘Remember it’s not proof that he’s actually raped anyone,’ Hannah cautioned. ‘It shows a pattern of behaviour, but without anyone else’s testimony, it’s not going to be enough to charge him.’

  ‘But surely showing that he’s got form in this area has to make some difference. It’s got to help, right?’

  Hannah hesitated. ‘My hope is that if he did worse than those reports let on, the other women might open up when the police question them.’

  ‘Tell me we didn’t do this for nothing,’ Quinn pleaded.

  ‘We didn’t do it for nothing. We know there’s something to be dug up – we just have to rely on the cops to actually do it.’

  ‘You don’t think they will?’

  ‘I would’ve thought they’d have been in contact with the partners already. The fact that they haven’t makes me think they just want to get this one off their books.’

  ‘For fuck’s sake.’ Quinn slumped in her seat. ‘Why would they want a rapist to walk free? Who would want that on their conscience?’

  Hannah’s experiences with the police had left her with mixed feelings. She believed most of them wanted to do good, but the reality was that their resources were painfully stretc
hed. And when there was a case like Quinn’s, which was unlikely to result in a conviction, they believed their efforts were best concentrated on pursuing cases they could win. The fact that men like Simon went free was just an unfortunate by-product of the system. But none of that would make Quinn feel any better. What she needed was a purpose.

  ‘Here’s what you’re going to do,’ she said. ‘Tomorrow, you’re going to go back to the station and you’re going to tell them you want them to continue their investigation. And then you’re going to say that someone once told you that Simon had been ordered to attend sexual harassment training. You’re not sure who it was he harassed, but there could be others. Whatever you do, don’t show them those photos. That should be enough for them to request the HR records.’

  ‘What about Jess? She’s not even in the records.’

  Hannah shook her head. ‘You’ll have to leave her out of it. If she’s not willing to testify, you can’t force her.’

  Quinn’s jaw worked, like she wanted to argue, but then she nodded. ‘OK. I’ll do it.’

  ‘The last question is: what are you going to do about work?’

  Quinn pressed her lips together. ‘I’m not going to let him drive me away from my job. I’m going back on Monday.’

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  QUINN

  Quinn had known returning to work would be hard, but she hadn’t counted on having a panic attack as soon as she stepped into her office. It was as if there were shapes marked out in blood on her desk, on the floor, against the wall; everywhere she had touched when he’d been in here with her. Her fingers grasped the edge of her desk, gripping tight until the roiling sea inside her had simmered down to calm.

  For the first hour and a half, she hid in her office, checking her emails and looking at the campaigns that were coming up on her schedule. But when it was time for the Monday morning staff meeting, dread dragged her down again. All weekend she’d been debating whether to go to the partners, let them know what had happened. She’d put it off and put it off, and now she was going to have to go into the team meeting and sit at the same table as Simon. How would he react to seeing her again? How would she react?

  But when she reached the boardroom, everyone was there except for Simon. She took the last chair near the end of the table, arranging and rearranging her legs to still her nerves.

  Alistair cleared his throat, and Quinn could have sworn his gaze lingered on her for a second longer than everyone else, then he looked down to the notebook in front of him.

  ‘Morning, everyone, and welcome back to those of you who’ve returned from leave. Things are already starting to ramp up again. Before we get into the busy week ahead, I need to let you know that Simon will be taking a couple of weeks off.’

  Quinn started, and once again Alistair’s eyes flicked briefly to her.

  ‘It’s not clear at this stage when he’ll return,’ he went on, ‘but I’ll keep you posted.’

  ‘Oh, I hope everything’s all right,’ Sandra said.

  The rest of the meeting passed in a blur. It had worked. The police were going to investigate Simon’s records, and Alistair had stood him down for the immediate future. This was even better than she’d hoped for. When everyone stood up to leave the room, Alistair said, ‘Quinn, could I see you in my office, please?’

  As everyone filed out, Quinn followed Alistair to his office. He paused to motion her in, then closed the door behind him and gestured to one of the armchairs beside his desk. ‘Take a seat.’

  Quinn sat down in the chair and clasped her hands together to stop them from trembling.

  Alistair sat in the other armchair and cleared his throat again. It was obvious he was uncomfortable. ‘I’m sure you’re aware that the police are investigating Simon for sexual assault. I’d like to start by expressing how very sorry I am for what you’ve been through. I want to assure you that you have our full support during this difficult time.’

  Quinn nodded tightly. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘When did the assault occur?’

  There was something about the formality of his tone that made Quinn uneasy. ‘On Christmas Eve. Right after we’d landed those clients.’

  ‘Well.’ He looked down at his hands clasped in his lap. ‘We were all in quite the celebratory mood that afternoon.’

  Quinn dug her fingernails into her palms. ‘That wasn’t quite the celebration I had in mind.’

  ‘Of course not, of course not. I wish you’d told me about this earlier, Quinn, so we could’ve given you more support.’

  For a horrifying moment, Quinn thought she might start crying if she didn’t get out of this office soon.

  ‘Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that the police have our full cooperation, and Simon won’t be returning to work until this whole thing has been dealt with.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Quinn stood up. ‘I appreciate that.’

  She walked quickly out of the office before all her anger could spew out of her mouth in a torrent of words she wouldn’t be able to take back. Simon wouldn’t be back until it had been dealt with? Was it possible that Alistair believed Simon was innocent? So much for support.

  She stayed late that day, burying herself in work to get her mind off her situation. She had no idea how long it would take the police to requisition the HR files, to go through them, to contact the other women and speak to them. The fact that there finally seemed to be progress in her case did nothing to still her rising anxiety … if anything, it heightened it, all this waiting around for action when she knew what he’d done. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all going to come to nothing.

  By the time she’d shut down her computer and left her office, everyone else had gone home. The car park out the back of the building was empty other than her car, and shrouded in shadow as the sun set behind the surrounding buildings. She’d almost reached the car when a figure stepped around the corner. Fear zapped through her, and she staggered backwards against the car door as Simon approached, an amiable expression on his face. Her phone was already in her hand. She could call the police, but what would she tell them? That he’d come up to her on work property with a smile on his face?

  With no time to think, she used the shortcut to open the camera and started recording a video, then dropped it into her bag just as he reached her. ‘What do you want?’ she said, her voice shaking.

  ‘I want to see if we can work things out.’ He held his hands out, palm upwards, in a placatory gesture. ‘Friend to friend.’

  ‘You wouldn’t have done what you did if we were friends,’ she said.

  ‘You’re after my job, aren’t you? That’s what this has been about all along.’

  ‘It’s got nothing to do with your job, and you know it!’

  ‘Didn’t hear you complaining when I had you up against the wall.’ He leaned in close. ‘Didn’t think I noticed, did you?’

  Quinn cringed away, shame coursing through her like poison.

  ‘You like it rough. I could tell.’

  ‘No,’ Quinn whispered.

  ‘You felt embarrassed afterwards. I get that.’ All traces of the man she’d worked and laughed and joked with for years, the man she’d once liked, were gone. ‘But that’s no reason to punish me for something you know we both wanted.’

  Quinn clenched her teeth. ‘You’re going to jail for this.’

  He laughed. ‘You really think anyone will believe someone like you? You fuck anything that moves, and my reputation is clean. You’ve got no proof.’

  The humiliation built inside Quinn, piling up and up until it hardened and turned into a mountain of rage. ‘Oh yeah?’ She got her phone back out of her bag and navigated to her photos. ‘See this? And this? And this? And there are more. The police are going to speak to these women, you know. You’re not going to get away with it.’

  For the first time, Simon’s expression faltered.

  ‘That’s right,’ Quinn said. ‘Soon everyone’s going to know what you’re really like
. And I can’t fucking wait to see it.’

  Simon backed away from her, shaking his head, then turned to walk back the way he’d come. ‘Filthy bitch!’ he threw over his shoulder at her.

  Her whole body trembling violently, Quinn got into her car, started the engine and drove straight home. She’d been planning to take the video she’d recorded to the police, show them that he’d admitted to raping her, but when she listened back to it, she realised he hadn’t actually confessed to anything. In fact, all the recording would do was heap more doubt on Quinn’s own testimony.

  Everything she touched turned to shit. No wonder this had happened to her.

  Later that night, she was watching TV when her phone rang. When she saw Simon’s name on the screen, she rejected the call and threw the phone down on the couch as if it were a huntsman spider. He called again a minute later. Then again. After a pause in which Quinn thought he’d given up, a text message came through:

  Answer your phone. You’re going to want to hear what I’ve got to say.

  A tremor of fear crept over her skin, quickly graduating to shivering by the time her phone rang once again.

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I just thought you should know that stealing personnel records is an offence.’

  Quinn went cold all over. ‘So is rape.’

  ‘Well, when you consider this in context with that message you sent me … it looks a bit like a vendetta, don’t you think?’

  ‘It’ll be worth it to see you go to jail,’ Quinn said, but the doubt was swirling up now, the mistake she’d made written on her insides in blood.

  ‘If the police find out about this, you might find yourself charged with an offence. And if Alistair finds out, he’ll fire you.’ Simon’s words were flat, unadorned by emotion.

  ‘I’ll deny it,’ Quinn choked.

  ‘I’ve always liked you, Quinn,’ he said. ‘And I’d really rather not do this, but I also need to think about my family. I have a very good lawyer. Are you sure you want to take this road?’

  Quinn wanted to yell and scream obscenities, wanted to reach through the phone and wrap her hands around his throat and squeeze and squeeze until no more words could come out of him. But it was as if her hands were around her own throat. She couldn’t speak. She was frozen.