‘It was just after Lalita left. I was working late one night and he came out of his office and said he’d been so busy and he needed to relieve some pressure … so he got his dick out and started wanking, right there in front of me.’
‘That’s what he said to me,’ Andrea broke in, her lips pale. ‘That he needed to relieve some pressure.’
‘He masturbated in front of you as well?’
Her eyes dropped to her lap. ‘Not exactly.’
The waitress brought out their coffees, and they all fell silent until she’d returned to the counter.
‘He said he’d make sure I got the next big account if I gave him a blow job.’ Her face crumpled. ‘And I did it. I knew it was wrong, but I was new, and I’d wanted to work at Big Sky since I graduated from uni. And it wasn’t just that … he set it up like it was my choice, but it didn’t feel like a choice. I can’t explain it, but I think even at the time I knew my only real options were to do it willingly or to be forced. I thought if I gave him what he wanted, that’d be the end of it. But then he wanted me to do it again, so I went to Alistair.’
‘Let me guess,’ Samantha said. ‘He told you he’d register a formal complaint, but that you were also to blame and he didn’t want that kind of unprofessionalism in the workplace?’
Andrea nodded. ‘I couldn’t really argue with him. I mean, I was partly to blame, wasn’t I? But then Simon bailed me up one day and he … he forced me.’ Her hands were shaking so hard that her coffee spilt as she placed her cup back on the saucer. ‘I felt so ashamed that I just left. Resigned the next day and never told anyone about it.’
‘What about you, Lalita?’ Hannah said.
Lalita’s dark eyes dropped to the table in front of her. ‘It started out with dirty talk. I was straight out of uni, and I thought that was just what workplaces were like. I didn’t want to make a fuss, so I went along with it. One day he called me into his office and closed the door. He started massaging my shoulders, but his hands kept moving down until they were inside my bra. I didn’t know how to stop him, so I let him do it. Another day, he started rubbing my thigh and ended up with his hand up my skirt. I still can’t understand why I couldn’t tell him to stop …’ She covered her face with her hands.
Freya put a protective arm around Lalita’s shoulders.
‘It happened so many times that it kind of became the norm,’ Lalita went on. ‘And then it was even harder to justify protesting about it. But eventually he wanted to … take things further. I was too embarrassed to tell Alistair, so I went to Svetlana, and she passed it on to him. He told me the same thing he told you girls, and not long after I was made redundant.’
Samantha was the only one who hadn’t spoken yet. She chewed on her nails, her eyes a little wild. ‘So I was the only one who was out and out fired, then.’
‘What happened?’ Quinn asked.
‘I thought I was the one playing him.’ She held her head up, her chin jutting out defiantly, as if daring them to judge her. ‘He’d flirt with me, I’d brush against him in the hallway. He’d make suggestive comments, I’d talk like a fucking sailor.’ She looked at Andrea. ‘I went down on him, too. But I did it for fun. I thought I had the power. The only thing I refused was sex. It was funny for me, to have that over him. But I should’ve known that if I didn’t give it to him eventually, he was going to take it. And he did.’
‘He raped you too?’ Quinn said.
‘In as many ways as you can imagine.’ Samantha closed her eyes for a moment. ‘The first thing I did was tell Alistair. He recorded a formal complaint, but he also said he’d been turning a blind eye to my provocative behaviour for too long, and it was time for me to leave the agency.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Hannah said.
‘I got pregnant.’ Samantha looked around the table at each of their shocked faces in turn. ‘I found out as the last of the bruises had faded. I never told anyone about it; I just had the abortion and tried to find another job and start over. But Alistair is pretty big in the industry. Every job I went for, they asked me why I didn’t have a reference, and when I refused to answer they went behind my back and asked him anyway. Turns out no one wants to hire a slut who sleeps with the senior staff.’
They all sat in stunned silence. Hannah looked at the five women sitting around the table, each of their lives irrevocably shaken by the same man.
‘I’m sorry that this has happened to all of you,’ Hannah said. ‘But I’m here today to discuss what we’re going to do about it.’
‘What are you proposing?’ Andrea asked. ‘A class action or something?’
‘She wants us to talk.’ There was an undercurrent of anger in Samantha’s voice. ‘No one gave a shit about us until Miss High-and-Mighty here needed us.’
Quinn looked up from where she was resting her elbows on the table, face in her hands.
‘Yeah, I’m talking about you,’ Samantha said. ‘I remember what you were like. All about yourself. You were the most senior woman in the agency – we should’ve been able to come to you for support, but you were too busy cracking dick jokes with that fucker to even notice the rest of us were alive. You would’ve stepped on our faces in your stilettos to get where you wanted to be.’
Hannah watched helplessly as Quinn’s lips twitched and her chin wobbled. Before she could say anything, her friend had stood up and dashed out of the cafe, leaving her untouched coffee cooling on the table. Hannah wanted to follow her, but she’d brought all these women together and she had to salvage something from this meeting.
‘What happened to us wasn’t her fault,’ Freya said. ‘No more than her assault was ours.’
‘Well, she’s not the one who’s been unemployed and in therapy for two years, is she?’ Samantha said, but she looked abashed now.
‘Freya’s right,’ Lalita said. ‘It’s not Quinn’s fault. And I feel terrible for her, I really do … but I don’t really want to talk to the police about this.’
The other women started shifting uncomfortably, and Hannah felt the brief camaraderie that had sprung up when they’d shared their stories beginning to slip away. ‘Do you mind if I ask why?’
Lalita looked pained. ‘I still live with my parents. This would break them if they found out about it … especially if they knew that … well, that I’d let it go on for so long.’
‘You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of,’ Hannah said. ‘It wasn’t your fault.’
‘But they were worried enough when I lost my job in the first place. If they had to hear me testify about what happened …’ Her hands fluttered. ‘I’m sorry. I just can’t.’
‘I don’t think I want to either,’ Andrea said. ‘I got married last year. I’ve never told my husband about it. Imagine if he had to see me stand up in a courtroom and admit that I gave someone a blow job for an account.’
‘But you said you didn’t feel like you had a choice,’ Hannah said.
‘I’m not a lawyer, but even I know the legal system doesn’t count having a feeling about something as evidence,’ Andrea said bitterly. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t do it.’
Dismay welled up in Hannah. Her plan was slipping through her fingers and she was powerless to stop it. ‘What about you, Samantha? You’ve had a horrible time. Forget Quinn; do this for yourself. Send the bastard to jail.’
Samantha sighed. ‘Look, I’m sorry about what I said to Quinn. It was out of line. But I’ve been having nightmares about this for so bloody long that I dread going to bed at night. I don’t want to relive it during the day as well.’
‘But don’t you want to see him punished for what he did to you? For what he did to all of you?’
‘Come on. Think about me, testifying in court. I’m a fucking mess. I was what they call promiscuous before this happened. Now I’m riddled with anxiety and on welfare. If anything, I’d be harming the case.’
Hannah looked to the final woman at the table. ‘Freya?’
Freya avoided her eyes. ‘Other than the few gropes over
my clothes, he didn’t even touch me.’
‘Masturbating in front of someone without their consent is still sexual assault.’
‘But compared to what else he’s done … There just doesn’t seem much point. Sorry.’
The four women left soon after that, looking simultaneously guilty and grateful to escape. Alone at the table, Hannah nursed her empty coffee cup. It had all been for nothing. She knew, of course, there were myriad reasons that women didn’t report sexual assault, but she’d thought – she’d believed, hoped – that out of four of them, at least one might be willing. That knowing they were part of something bigger might inspire them to speak out. She had done this for Quinn, and now she was going to have to tell her that she hadn’t managed to get a single one to stand beside her.
Eventually, she got up and left the cafe. To her surprise, Quinn was sitting at one of the tables outside, her face streaked with tears. ‘They all backed out, didn’t they?’
Hannah sat down at the table. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘There was a moment there when I thought you had them.’ Quinn gave her a watery smile. ‘Thanks for trying. I can’t believe you managed to track them all down.’
‘I’m sorry about having a go at you the other day,’ Hannah said. ‘I feel like I’ve been disappointing you over and over again since this happened. And now this.’
‘It’s not you, Hannah. Samantha was right; it’s my fault I’m in this position.’
‘Oh, no, Quinn.’ Hannah took her hand. ‘Of course it’s not your fault. Samantha apologised for what she said. She didn’t mean it.’
‘But I was there. While all of that was happening to them, I was there, and I had no idea. I was so focused on my career that I never bothered trying to get to know any of them. All my life I’ve convinced myself I don’t need people, and look where it’s got me. Is it any wonder they don’t want to stand up for me?’
‘Please, Quinn. No one could have known what he was doing.’
‘I can’t take this anymore, Hannah.’ Quinn pulled her hand out of Hannah’s and stood up. ‘If we can’t do anything through the legal system, I’ll find another way to make him pay for what he’s done.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
QUINN
Quinn’s mind was dark. It was over. Every last chance at justice, extinguished. In four days, Simon would be back at work, able to continue his career … and continue assaulting other women, knowing he had gotten away with doing so over and over again. Jess, Andrea, Freya, Lalita, Samantha. Quinn.
She hibernated in her office for the rest of the day, cancelled a few client meetings, ignored Hannah’s frequent messages asking if she was OK, and eventually turned her phone off. Stared at the spot on her desk where Simon had bent her over backwards. The spot he’d pinned her against the wall. The spot she’d found her torn underwear.
At the end of the day, she escaped out the back exit of the office without saying goodbye to anyone, and got into her car. After she’d put on her seatbelt, she couldn’t bring herself to start the engine. So she sat there, in her car, staring out of the windscreen at nothing. In her peripheral vision, her colleagues emerged from the building one by one, got in their cars and drove away. No one noticed her sitting there.
Twilight gloom descended and streetlights began to flicker on. The minutes slid by. Quinn needed to pee. Her stomach grumbled with hunger, but it was as if her mind were detached from her body, and the sensation didn’t reach her brain.
Then there was a sudden knock on her window and fear exploded inside her. A little scream escaped her mouth as the dark shadow of a man loomed outside. But then she realised the man was smiling, and that he looked familiar. It was Patrick. She wound down the window. ‘You scared the shit out of me.’
His smiled widened. ‘Sorry, I thought you were asleep. You were sitting so still.’
‘Well, I’m not.’
‘Where’ve you been? I’ve been messaging you all day. When I didn’t hear back I came looking for you.’
‘Could’ve messaged me last week,’ Quinn said stoutly.
‘Yeah, sorry about that. I can explain. Can we go for a drink somewhere?’
‘I need to pee.’ Quinn jerked a thumb at the passenger seat. ‘I’m going home. Get in if you want to come.’
To his credit, he didn’t argue. Quinn wasn’t sure whether she was more annoyed with him for ignoring her message for so long or with herself for being glad to see him in spite of it.
When they got to her building, she led him up the stairs and into her apartment without a word.
‘About your message—’ he began, but Quinn held up a hand. She went to the bathroom, then took her time washing her hands, studying her reflection in the mirror. Why was she spending time worrying about what she looked like for this guy? He’d rejected her advances, told her he wanted to be her friend, then ignored her for a week when she’d needed a friend the most. But for three and a half hours she’d sat motionless in her car, sinking. If he hadn’t shown up, she might have disappeared altogether. She dried her hands and went out to face him. He was hovering in the living room, obviously waiting for her to reappear before making himself comfortable. Well, she would make him a little more uncomfortable first.
‘Well?’ She crossed her arms over her chest.
‘I didn’t actually see your message until this morning,’ he said.
She scoffed. ‘You know I can see when you’ve read the message, right?’
‘I was …’ He paused awkwardly. ‘I was with my ex. We’re a bit … I dunno, dysfunctional, I guess. I hooked up with her because I was kinda cut up that you didn’t want to see me again.’
Quinn rolled her eyes. ‘We’re not together. You don’t have to get weird about it.’ But there was something: a tiny spark of jealousy. Quinn didn’t get jealous.
‘I’m not trying to make it weird. I’m explaining. When I saw your friend request, it made me stupidly happy.’ He shrugged. ‘So I told her it was a mistake and that it couldn’t happen again, that I was interested in someone else.’
Something melted inside Quinn; warm and gooey and sweet like chocolate.
‘While I was in the bathroom, I left my phone in her bedroom,’ he went on. ‘I’m guessing that’s when you sent that message, and she must’ve read it. She still knows my passcode. I don’t use Messenger much, so I didn’t notice your message until this morning when someone else messaged me. I’ve been trying to contact you all day. I was really worried, so I came looking for you.’
Quinn had an almost overwhelming urge to wrap her arms around his muscled torso, but she bit down on it and tightened her arms. ‘How did you find me?’
‘I came here first, but I had no idea which apartment you were in. So I stood around on the footpath for a while, and when you didn’t show, I googled your name and found out where you worked. I eventually found the car park around the back, and there you were, sitting there like you were paralysed or something.’
‘I was.’
He crossed his arms now too. ‘Are you OK?’
Quinn raised her chin, ready to tell him she was perfectly fine, but all the emotions she’d been trying to suppress seemed to be cascading from her brain through her body and down to the floor. Her mouth listed sideways. Two tears slipped down her cheeks, and she shook her head.
He was there, his arms around her, and she was clinging to him, hanging off him like a piece of flotsam and he was pulling her out of the ocean, like she was stupid, pathetic, weak, and all she’d been waiting for was a big strong man to save her. She hated this feeling of helplessness, she hated it, she fucking hated it, but there was something about him that made her feel whole when she’d felt fragmented for half her life. And if she didn’t surrender to it now, she was going to drown.
Eventually, his grip loosened and she moved out of his arms. ‘Sorry,’ she said, pushing her hair out of her eyes.
‘Nah, don’t be sorry, mate.’ He indicated to the couch. ‘Want to talk about it?’<
br />
She nodded. They sat down and Quinn told him about how she’d snuck into her work with Hannah and snooped through Simon’s HR file, about her own mess-up when she’d shown Simon the ill-gotten photos, about the fight with Hannah followed by the meeting with the four other women, all of whom had refused to testify about what Simon had done to them.
Patrick gave a low whistle when she’d finished. ‘And you’re really not going to keep going with your case?’
‘I don’t have a choice,’ Quinn said dully. ‘I’ve stuffed up at every turn. I don’t have any options left. Anyway, let’s talk about something else for a while. What’s the deal with your ex?’
He blew out through his lips. ‘Not sure where to start with that.’
‘She that bad?’
‘Nah, she’s all right. We’ve just been through too much over too many years. We’re not good for each other.’
Normally, Quinn would lose interest as soon as things got personal, but now she found that she wanted to know more, wanted to know everything about him. The feeling was foreign, unwelcome, but somehow exhilarating. ‘What happened?’
He rubbed his face with his hands for a minute, then looked through his fingers at her. ‘We got together in high school. Then she got pregnant when we were sixteen.’
This slammed into Quinn’s chest, hard and unforgiving. ‘You’ve got a kid with her?’
He dropped his hands into his lap. His face was raw. ‘No. We decided to go through with it, even though we were only kids ourselves. But then she lost it and … well, it messed her up pretty bad. She dropped out of school, kinda fell apart a bit. I tried to be there for her, but I guess I kept expecting her to get over it and move on, and that only made things worse.’
‘You’ve been with her since you were sixteen?’
‘Not exactly. We’ve been on and off for a long time. I’ve known for years that we’re not right for each other, but I think I was addicted to the life I thought we were gonna have together. All I wanted was a relationship like my parents had when I was a kid … but I’m not sure that even exists, anyway. My mum died when I was twelve and my dad a few years ago. I don’t want to end up like he did.’
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