‘Leave it,’ Danny said, blocking his friend’s path. ‘Look at her, over there,’ he pointed to a young waitress who was giving him the eye. ‘I think she fancies me,’ he whispered. The waitress winked and proceeded to clear the tables around them. Slowly but surely, she got to theirs. She stood with her hand on the back of Danny’s chair, holding a wet cloth with the other.
‘Did you notice how dark it was last night, Billy?’
The waitress leaned over to pick up their used cartons, exposing a large cleavage.
‘No, why?’ asked Billy, screwing up his nose.
‘Because this little angel must have fallen from heaven,’ Danny said, smiling up at the waitress.
‘Can I get you two any fink else?’ she asked, her eyes flirting.
Billy’s mouth fell open, he was transfixed.
‘When’s your next day off?’ Danny asked, speaking directly to the waitress’s chest.
‘You’re cute,’ she said. ‘Tomorrow actually. Why? Have you something in mind?’
‘Well, it could be your lucky day,’ Danny grinned.
She reached over and pulled up Danny’s sleeve. Taking a pen out of her top pocket, she held his hand in hers as she wrote her phone number on his forearm. ‘Any time after eleven,’ she said, pulling the sleeve back down and releasing his hand slowly from hers.
‘I’m Danny and this is my mate, Billy,’ he said.
‘I’m Shaz. Will you be coming?’ she said, looking at Billy.
‘I hope so,’ he replied, swallowing hard.
‘Well, who knows, it might just be your lucky day, too, little man,’ she said over her shoulder as she winked at the boys and walked back to the counter.
‘I’ll call you. Can we have more Cokes over here, gorgeous?’ Danny said.
‘Large ones?’ she called back.
Billy nodded as he watched their new-found friend. Neither spoke a word. As she walked back to the table, Billy noticed the man with the flowers watching her and he glared at him with his chin jutted out towards him. Shaz put the drinks on the table and leaned heavily against Danny’s arm.
‘Who’s that fucking weirdo?’ Billy asked, nodding in the man’s direction.
‘Ah, he’s harmless. Me mate Tracy says he’s in love with me,’ she said. ‘Bless him, he comes in most days and sits there holding a bunch of flowers. Tracy finks that he’s too shy to give them me. He always takes them home with him,’ Shaz whispered in Billy’s ear as he drank his Coke through a straw. ‘I’m glad he doesn’t give them me. They’re those ones that stink vile,’ she laughed.
‘Fucking wanker,’ Billy shouted out loud in his direction. ‘He better leave our girl alone from now on.’
Shaz smiled as she walked back to the counter, wiggling her large hips for their benefit.
‘I am in love, Danny,’ Billy said, visibly swooning. ‘Now that’s what you call a woman.’
Danny laughed. ‘You were in love with Pam two minutes ago. Make your bloody mind up.’
‘Shaz what?’ Danny asked as they passed the waitress to leave.
‘McDonald,’ she said, pointing to the McDonald’s sign. ‘That’s what they call me.’
Danny put a ten-pound note down her blouse. ‘For you,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘Don’t work too hard, it could be a tiring day tomorrow,’ he said with a wink.
‘Hey, Danny, you don’t think maybe we should have offered to wait and give her a lift home, do you?’ asked Billy, as they stepped outside. ‘We don’t want him to spoil our fun,’ he said, throwing a backward glance at the man sat at the table near the window with the bunch of flowers still firmly in his grasp.
‘Patience, Billy,’ Danny laughed as he strutted down the precinct in front of his friend without looking back at McDonald’s or the girls watching after them.
‘I think I’m gonna dream about Shaz all night.’ Billy pulled at the crotch of his trousers. ‘I’m getting a stiffy.’
‘Pam or Sara?’ asked Danny.
‘Nah, Shaz is the only girl for me now.’ Billy sighed.
Chapter Thirty-One
‘My God! Look at me, Pam,’ Stephanie said, tilting her daughter’s face to her.
‘When did it happen? Where? Your dad’ll … The police, we must report it,’ Stephanie cried. She sobbed as she rocked her daughter in her arms.
It wasn’t long before two police cars were gracing the driveway of the Forrester’s home. Stephanie’s call to her husband’s receptionist had sounded frantic. Bill bounded into the house still in his dentist’s scrubs.
‘Where’s Pam?’ he asked as Stephanie flew into his arms.
‘She’s safe. She’s upstairs with one of our female officers, sir,’ the young uniformed officer answered as Bill held his wife to him. He stroked her hair in an attempt to soothe her.
‘Can I see her? Is she okay?’ he whispered, to the officer over the top of Stephanie’s head. ‘What’s happened?’
An older lady, with kind eyes, walked down the steps towards them and stopped midway. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Forrester, you can’t,’ she said softly. ‘Your daughter has been raped and we have to be ever so careful about contamination at this stage. Even though your daughter has had a shower, we want the best chance of obtaining any evidence that remains. We’ll look after her, I promise you,’ she said reassuringly.
Bill Forrester looked horror-struck. ‘What?’ he said, with a lump in his throat that threatened tears.
‘Once we’ve gone through the routine procedure here, we’ll take her down to a specialist suite we have at the Child Protection Unit. She’ll need to have a medical examination and make a statement,’ the plainclothes officer explained.
‘If you could just give us ten minutes, sir?’
Mr Forrester nodded, a numb expression on his ashen face.
‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Stephanie said, wiping a lone tear that tricked down her already mottled puffy cheek. Bill smiled at his wife but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
‘That would be lovely, thank you,’ said the officer.
Bill Forrester followed his wife into the kitchen. They could hear the uniformed police officer talking on the radio in the hallway. Appearing at the kitchen door, she made her apologies and left to attend another call.
‘What’s Pam said?’ Bill asked his wife.
‘Not a lot. Older boys who abused her naivety and treated her badly from what I can gather. She didn’t say who they were, where it happened or when. All I know is it’s happened today. They could’ve killed her,’ Stephanie cried. ‘She’s only a baby. My baby.’
Bill reached out to his wife and she went into his arms. He held her tight for a moment or two as she clung to him.
The kettle whistled and, on automatic pilot, Stephanie pulled away from Bill’s embrace and started to take cups out of the cupboard and place them on the work surface. How many did she need? She couldn’t think straight. She placed four tea bags in the teapot and hoped that would suffice, filled a milk jug and slid the sugar bowl on to the wooden tray.
‘Why do people always make tea in times of shock?’ Stephanie said with a sniff, wiping her nose with a tissue before stuffing it in her trouser pocket. Bill shook his head.
‘I know I need something stronger than bloody tea,’ he said, as he perched on a stool at the breakfast station and put his head in his hands. ‘When I find the bastard that did this to our Pam I swear I’ll…’ he cried, dragging his hands through his hair. ‘Let’s just say they won’t get the chance to do it again,’ Bill said, grinding his teeth. Stephanie saw the hatred in his eyes and she knew he meant it.
‘I’ll get you a brandy,’ she said. Collecting a glass from the cabinet, she headed for the drinks’ globe, poured a large cognac and handed it to him. He took the bottle from her hand, drank from the glass and filled it again.
Stephanie took the tea upstairs with an assortment of biscuits on a plate. Pam’s door was still closed and she paused awkwardly outside, not knowing what to do. Her hands o
ccupied, she tapped the door with her foot and an officer opened it just enough to take the tray from her. The room, with its curtains drawn, was dark and she couldn’t see her daughter but could hear a mumbling of voices.
‘We shouldn’t be much longer now,’ the police officer whispered. ‘Could I just remind you not to touch any of the clothes that Pam was wearing, please,’ she said.
‘No, I won’t. I’ve already been told to leave them. Her dad and I are downstairs in the kitchen if you want us.’
Stephanie and Bill sat in silence, sipping their drinks as they stared into space. They waited for the sound of Pam’s door opening, or a creak of a floorboard on the stairs that would indicate to them that someone was leaving her room.
‘She didn’t have a boyfriend, did she?’ asked Bill.
Stephanie shook her head. ‘Not that I’m aware of, no.’ The two looked at each other, a question was on their lips, but neither of them spoke.
‘She only goes to the riding stable on her own, apart from school. Do you think it’s someone she met there?’ Stephanie said, putting her hand to her mouth to silence her gasp. Bill shrugged his shoulders.
A shuffling of feet upstairs warned them that someone was on the move. Bill jumped off his stool and Stephanie followed him out into the hall. A uniformed officer was coming down the stairs with a number of brown sealed bags in her hands. ‘Pam’s clothes,’ she said, as if she needed to explain. Pam followed behind, her face grey. She looked at her parents with puppy-dog red eyes. Bill and Stephanie both smiled at her, their eyes filled with tears.
‘Mrs Forrester,’ the plainclothes officer said. ‘We’ll need you to come with us so that you can consent to the examination and to be the adult present for the interview, if you would?’
Stephanie nodded, smiling weakly. ‘Of course,’ she said softly. She reached out and grabbed her coat from a peg in the hallway, a force of habit as it wasn’t cold.
‘Is it alright if I come along?’ asked Bill.
‘Yes, of course, Mr Forrester, but I think it best if Mum sits in on the interview,’ she said.
‘I understand. It’s just … I want to be there.’
‘That’s not a problem. It’s likely to take a few hours so be prepared for a wait. We’ll have to take photographs and there will be a medical examination. Do you both want to follow us in your car?’
‘Yes, whatever’s best,’ Bill said, heading for the kitchen to pick up his car keys from the breakfast bar where he’d left them.
‘Should you be driving?’ asked the uniformed officer as he passed her in the hallway. Bill handed his keys to his wife. ‘Perhaps not,’ he said wanly, realising how much alcohol he had consumed.
Bill and Stephanie followed the police car that transported their daughter.
‘Keep positive, love. At least she’s alive,’ Bill said.
‘I know,’ she sighed. ‘We have to think she’s one of the lucky ones. She shouldn’t be going through this. We should have been able to protect her.’
‘Don’t even go there,’ he said, and she saw his jaw tighten.
‘What if they’ve given her some horrible disease,’ Stephanie said, with a sob that caught in the back of her throat and made her cough.
‘She needs us to support her. We can’t go thinking anything like that, otherwise we’ll go to pieces. We don’t know exactly what’s happened yet, so let’s not let our imaginations run wild, eh? One step at a time,’ he said, with a glance in her direction as he patted her leg.
The place they were led to wasn’t the police station as Bill and Stephanie expected, but a large detached stone building that could have been someone’s home. Bill was shown into a lounge area, while Stephanie went with Pam and the officers into what he was told was the medical room.
‘The doctor should be here in the next half an hour. Can I get you a coffee or a cup of tea?’ the clerical officer asked him.
‘Thank you,’ Bill said as he watched the lady go into the kitchenette. He heard her filling the kettle, saw her arm reach to a shelf for a mug and listened as she opened a drawer where no doubt she got out a spoon.
‘Sugar?’ she shouted.
‘Yes please, two,’ Bill said.
‘Will this doctor be a man or a woman?’ Bill asked as he stood up and started to read the posters that were pinned to the wall. ‘Chlamydia’ one read, another ‘Vaginal Warts’. He shuddered and turned away.
‘I’m sorry I don’t know. It just depends which police surgeon is on call but, don’t worry, they’re all really lovely,’ she reassured as she studied him over her half-moon glasses from the doorway.
Bill walked back to his seat and sat down, leaned forward and picked up a magazine from the low table in the centre of the room and prepared himself for the wait.
‘I’m sorry, Mum, for causing you all this trouble,’ Pam said, as she sat on the examination table with her bare legs dangling over its side. She was draped in a dressing gown and looked so young and forlorn that all Stephanie wanted to do was cuddle her.
‘You haven’t caused us any trouble, darling. You never have. Stop blaming yourself. We’ll get through this together, don’t worry. Everything will be alright,’ she sighed, patting the bed beside her daughter as she realised she couldn’t touch her, just in time. Her hand rested on the bed. ‘I’m just so glad you told me and didn’t try to deal with this all by yourself.’
‘Doc’s here,’ said the plainclothes officer, rushing into the room. Seconds later the door opened with a creak and closed with a groan.
Doctor Lesley Lord proved to be sweet, gentle and kind, with the best of bedside manners.
‘Pam, this is going to be a bit uncomfortable for you, but we need to take some samples. First of all, I need some of your hair,’ she said, combing Pam’s locks with care. She collected the hair caught in the brush’s bristles.
‘This may seem insignificant to you, but it may give us anybody else’s hair that may have become entangled with your own, on contact,’ she said gently.
Pam shivered as the thought of her ordeal came back to haunt her.
‘You cold?’ Doctor Lord said.
‘No,’ said Pam.
‘Next, I’m going to have to cut a sample of your hair, but we’ll do it from underneath so you won’t be able to see. I’m no hairdresser, as my friends will tell you,’ she smiled kindly at Pam. ‘I once tried to cut my best friend’s fringe and twenty years later she still hasn’t forgiven me.
‘The next sample is a bit more intimate, I’m afraid. I’m going to have to take a sample of your pubic hair. Do you understand, Pam? Is that okay?’ Pam nodded her head as the doctor guided her down to lie on the bed.
The room was deathly quiet and the lighting was dimmed. Doctor Lord directed a spotlight onto Pam’s body. Pam could hear the telephone ringing in the next room and a mumble of voices as she stared up at the ceiling, praying for the whole thing to come to an end. She felt a gloved hand glide tentatively over her body.
‘I’m examining your body for any bites, scratches or bruising Pam. Then I’ll take swabs and taping from your breasts and legs. This might help to pick up traces of semen or saliva that your attackers might have left behind.’
Pam swallowed hard as tears came into her eyes and rolled down the side of her head onto the pillow beneath.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Doctor Lord, ‘but I am going to have to take some internal swabs from you in case they deny having sexual intercourse with you. Are you okay with that?’
Pam nodded once more but didn’t take her eyes from the circle of light on the ceiling as she reached out for her mum’s hand. The doctor nodded to Stephanie that contact was okay and she let her daughter squeeze her hand tight.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Bill Forrester wasn’t the only father rushing to his daughter’s aid. PC Tim Whitworth switched on the sirens on his police vehicle and sped as fast he could to his home address when he got the call.
Braking hard, the car screeched to a
skidding halt outside his house and he struggled, big as he was, to get out of the car in haste. Sara sat shaking in his wife’s arms when he walked through the door.
‘This is your bloody fault,’ his wife Frances said. ‘Someone’s attacked her because of you,’ she spat out the words with pure venom.
‘Be quiet, woman,’ he said.
Sitting down on the footstool in front of his daughter, he reached out and laid a caring hand on her knee. ‘What’s happened, love?’ he asked, softly.
Sara looked at him with big brown eyes that appeared sunken in her pale face. ‘I was careful, like you always tell me to be walking home, dad,’ she said, snivelling. ‘But he came from nowhere. I didn’t hear, or see him before he …’ she gulped. ‘He grabbed me from behind and put a hand over my mouth.’ She swallowed as she struggled to get the words out between sobs. ‘Then he told me to tell you to stop bullying people or next time he’d rape me,’ she cried.
‘And what happened then?’ Tim asked.
‘He pushed me and told me to run,’ she sobbed. ‘So I did, as fast as I could, and I didn’t stop until I got home.’
‘Did you see who it was?’
‘No, I just remember the smell of alcohol and cigarettes and his stupid laugh,’ she said, grimacing.
‘For God’s sake, Tim, she told you he grabbed her from behind. What kind of a policeman are you?’ Frances scowled at her husband. ‘Don’t you ever bloody listen?’ she cried, laying her daughter’s head to her bosom as she rocked her gently.
There was a knock at the open front door and uniformed officers walked in. Tim Whitworth nodded to his colleagues. The story was related to them and they began a search of the area where the offence had taken place.
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