“It’s Cass, just Cass,” I interrupted.
“Sorry, Cass. As I was saying, I know how difficult this is but there are some questions I need to ask you before I can decide how we should proceed. OK?” She smiled again and I could feel myself warming to her slightly.
“OK.”
“These first questions are designed to work out whether we need to carry out a medical examination on you, Cass, so it’s really important that you answer them carefully.” At the mention of a medical examination, Mum’s hand gripped mine even more tightly. “They only need a yes or no, OK?” I nodded.
“Did you know the assailant, the person who attacked you?”
“Yes.”
“What was the assailant’s name?”
“I thought you said they were yes or no?” I muttered.
“Do you just want to call him the assailant?” Kate replied.
“No,” I answered, hating the impersonal sound of the word, “Rob. He’s called Rob Meadows.”
“Thanks Cass. Did Rob have sex with you?”
“No.” Again Mum squeezed my fingers.
“Did Rob attempt to penetrate you?” It was strange that a word that could often reduce me and Neve to giggles sounded so hideous in this context.
“No.”
“Did Rob expose his genitals?”
“Yes.” There was an audible intake of breath from Mum.
“Did he make you touch his genitals?”
“No.”
“Did he ejaculate?”
“Yes.”
“Did you come into contact with his semen?”
“Yes.” Mum tried to hold in her despair at this revelation.
“What part of your body came into contact with his semen, Cass?”
“My breasts and tummy.” I could feel a flush of embarrassment sweep my face.
“It’s OK, Cass. You’re doing really well,” Kate said whilst writing notes on the checklist she was using. I wondered how many times she had had to ask these same questions and whether she was ever shocked by the answers.
“Did Rob touch your genitals?” Her question made me re-focus.
“He gave them a sort of pat at the end but nothing else.”
“Did he touch you anywhere else?”
“Yes, on my breasts and face.”
“Did he hurt you in any way?”
“Yes, he slapped me a couple of times and twisted my arm.” Mum was almost breaking my fingers now with the strength of her grip. “He was really rough with my breasts as well.”
“OK. Did he kiss you?”
“Yes.”
“Did he ask your permission to do any of this?”
“No!” I couldn’t keep the outrage hidden.
“Cass, these are questions I have to ask. Did you tell him to stop at any point?”
“Yes, a couple of times.” I tried to recall how many times I had asked him to stop. Two? Three? Should I have asked more than that?
“Is there anything else that happened that I should know about at this stage?” The question threw me as I didn’t know what she wanted and my brain was struggling to remember all of the details. There had been a security to the yes or no questions.
“What like?” My voice was tinged with panic as I wondered whether she believed what I had told her.
“Anything you think is important. We will write a proper statement later so it doesn’t matter if there isn’t anything right now.”
“He took a photo at the end. And, umm, he attacked me just before Christmas,” I whispered.
“What?” Mum exploded. “Why didn’t you say anything? Is that why Flynn said we had to ring the police? Oh God!” This time I found myself having to be the comforter, putting my arms around Mum as her world started to fall apart. “Why didn’t you tell me, Cass?”
“He just touched me up. It wasn’t anything like tonight. I didn’t want to make a fuss.”
“Cass, I will get the details about that incident as well when you make your statement but, for now, we need to focus on getting the evidence for what has happened tonight. You are going to need to have a medical examination as there has been physical sexual contact. We have to go to a special unit at the hospital called SARC, the Sexual Assault Referral Centre. I’ll be going with you so try not to worry.”
“Can I come as well?” Mum asked.
“Of course. You can be with her at all times, if that’s what Cass wants. The unit specialises in sexual assault cases and will take samples and some photographs. Once that is done you can go home, have a shower etc. and then I’ll visit you tomorrow. OK? This next bit is hard but you only have to go through with it once. Do you want a cup of tea or anything before we go?” I shook my head, just desperate to get it over with. “OK then, I’ll bring the car round and pop back in to collect you. You stay in here for now.” With another reassuring smile Kate left the room, quietly closing the door behind her.
“Oh Cass, honey, I hate that you’ve gone through this. You’re being so strong.” With another cry, Mum hugged me to her as though she could squeeze the hurt away.
“I’m worried about the medical bit, Mum,” I admitted, horrible visions of CSI-style investigations running through my mind, “I don’t want them touching me.”
“It will be OK, Cass. I’ll be there. They shouldn’t need to do anything, you know, intimate, as he didn’t have sex with you.” Mum’s struggle to talk about it reminded me of the brief talk we had about sex when she found out about Flynn. Yet again we found ourselves having a conversation neither of us wanted.
“Thanks for being here, Mum.”
“Don’t thank me, Cass. I just wish that you hadn’t been at the shop and that none of this had happened.” The tears in her eyes showed that she felt a degree of guilt for what had happened and, being honest, I couldn’t tell her that she wasn’t to blame. It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been working in the shop. It wouldn’t have happened if Flynn hadn’t antagonised Rob at the Christmas party. It wouldn’t have happened if…
“All ready?” Kate’s question called a temporary halt to the negative thoughts that were starting to bubble.
“Yeah,” I said, standing up and following her out. I was grateful to see that the car waiting for us was an unmarked one. Although obviously planned, I appreciated the discretion that Kate was trying to maintain.
The drive to the hospital was silent, other than the low static buzz coming from Kate’s walkie talkie. We pulled up outside a small bungalow situated well away from the main hospital and Kate led us to the door and rang the bell. A nurse opened the door with yet another reassuring smile and I wondered if they went on courses about how to perfect the look of caring friendliness. She ushered us into a room that, like the Family Room at the police station, someone had tried to make more homely. However, they had spectacularly failed as a huge hospital bed dominated the space. Through the gaps in a screen hiding the corner of the room, I could see a trolley of surgical instruments that did nothing to make me feel any more comfortable.
The door opened and a young woman came in, wearing a white coat and stethoscope.
“Hi Cassie and Cassie’s mum. I’m Anita Singh. Hello again, Kate.” The friendly look that passed between the two of them made me feel a little better as it was clear that they were used to working with each other. “I’m just going to have a quick look at the paperwork so make yourselves comfortable.” Kate passed Anita the form she had filled in at the station and silently pointed a finger at a couple of sections.
“Anita, it’s Cass, not Cassie.” Kate said with a smile in my direction.
“OK then, Cass,” Anita emphasised the correction, “I will need to take a sample of the semen, a mouth swab and some photos of any areas where you were touched.” She looked back at the paperwork. “I guess the semen has been covered by your clothes?” Looking down, I realised that I was still wearing my grubby tabard.
“Yeah. I had to pull it back down.” I worried that I had done the wrong t
hing.
“That’s not a problem but we will need to keep your clothes as evidence. Do you have anything else with you? If not, we can give you a hospital gown to go home in.” She immediately looked at my mum to find the answer.
“Cass can have my blouse. Do you need it now?”
“You can’t do that, Mum.” I couldn’t face the idea of literally taking the clothes off her back.
“Of course I can. I’ll be OK in just my fleece.” She paused. “What are the options, Cass? It’s the middle of winter.” She was right and so I stopped protesting.
“If you could take it off now, Mrs Jones, it’ll be there when Cass is ready to get dressed again.” She moved the screen so that it created a private area. Mum went behind the screen and came back out within a few seconds, blouse and matching vest in hand, her fleece zipped up to her neck.
“Right, let’s start with the mouth swabs. I need to take two of these, Cass, one on each side of your mouth.” Anita approached me with what looked like two extra-large cotton buds.
“What are they for?” I asked.
“They will take saliva which we can process for DNA. There will be yours but there might be some of his as well.” The thought that there might still be evidence of Rob in my mouth this much later disgusted me and I knew I would spend ages cleaning my teeth that night to get rid of any lingering part of him. Anita quickly swabbed my mouth and placed each in its own plastic container.
“OK Cass, as they are evidence, I need to help you take off your tops. Can you stand on this please? It will catch anything that drops as we remove them.” I did as I was told and moved to the centre of the white paper square on the floor she had indicated. With great gentleness, Anita undid the poppers on my tabard and carefully removed it, folding it into a plastic bag held out by Kate. Pulling it as far away from my skin as possible, and stretching it to avoid it touching my hair, she also took off my jumper and placed that in its own bag. I heaved slightly when I realised what caused my jumper to stick momentarily to my tummy.
“Right, it looks like there is semen on your bra, Cass. We will need to take that as well. But I’ll do these swabs and take some photos first.” Anita rubbed a number of the giant cotton buds over the skin between my bra and the top of my jeans. After handing them to Kate, who started labelling the growing pile of plastic bags and tubes, Anita picked up a high-end digital SLR camera from the counter. At a different time, and in a different place, I would have asked her about it but, at this time, my photography work for Media Studies was the last thing on my mind.
“We need to get one photo of your head and body and the rest will be close-ups of the different areas. OK?” Anita asked before taking the first shot. She then moved in closer and took a series of shots of my tummy, my chest and bra. As she walked around, she took some photos of the tops of my arms; looking down I could see that they were starting to show the early signs of bruising. Mum just stood opposite me, trying but failing desperately to maintain a neutral facial expression.
“OK then, I need to take your bra now, Cass. Ready?” I nodded and couldn’t stop myself from closing my eyes, as though this would make the situation any less embarrassing. Anita undid the clasp at the back and carefully brought the straps forward and down my arms, gently moving the cups away from my skin. I knew I couldn’t bring my arms up to cover my boobs, but I felt so uncomfortable at this point. A hand took hold of my fingers and, opening my eyes, I saw Mum’s teary expression as she held my hand. The bra was placed in yet another bag before Anita picked the camera up again.
“You’re doing really well, Cass,” encouraged Kate. “There’s not much more now.”
“That’s right. Just a few more photos and then you can get dressed.” As Anita took a series of shots of each breast, I looked down at myself, horrified to see the red marks that covered them. There was even a scratch on one that I couldn’t remember happening. I was glad that Mum was looking away as I knew this would have been too much for her to cope with. “OK, we’re done, Cass.”
Anita handed me Mum’s clothes and I hugged them to me, glad to be able to cover myself up. “Pop and put those on. Just take one big step off the square.” I did as she said and hid behind the screen to put on the vest, leaving the blouse half undone as Mum was smaller than me. When I returned to the examination area, and sat next to mum, I noticed that the paper square had been picked up. I guessed it was in another plastic bag labelled with my name.
“You’ve done really well, Cass. Do you have any questions about any of this?” Anita sat on a wheeled stool in front of us. “Mrs Jones?”
“Will she have to have any more tests?” Mum asked with a worried tone.
“No. That was it. She can have a bath or shower when she gets home without worrying. You did the right thing in contacting the police straight away. Things are more difficult when the victim washes first, but of course that’s an understandable reaction. I’m confident that we were able to get decent samples tonight. The results will be sent straight to the police. OK?”
“Yes, thank you. You’ve been very caring towards her.” Mum’s voice broke into a sob as she shook Anita’s hand.
“That’s our job, Mrs Jones. We would all prefer it if there was no need for this but, as there is, we just want to make it as comfortable as possible.” Anita turned to me before continuing, “And, Cass, look after yourself.” She reached over and gave me a brief hug. “I’ll let you know when anything comes back from the lab, Kate.”
“Thanks, Anita. Come on then, Cass, let’s get you home.”
On the journey to our house, Kate advised Mum to ring school and let them know what had happened and not to send me in for a couple of days. She refused Mum’s offer to come in, saying that she needed to get back to the station, but arranged to come round at midday to take my statement.
“Take care, Cass. Remember, you’ve done nothing to deserve this. Try to get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow.” She waved as she pulled away, giving no inkling about what had gone on to anyone who might have been watching. Mum put an arm around my shoulder and our hips bumped into each other as we walked down the path.
When Mike opened the front door, I saw Mum give him a shake of her head and signal that he should make himself scarce. With a muttered “Goodnight,” he turned and made his way upstairs.
“What do you want to do Cass?”
“I just want to have a bath, get my ‘jamas on and go to bed, Mum. I’ve had enough for tonight.” I really wanted to shut out the rest of the world and pretend that it was all a bad dream, even though I knew that wasn’t going to happen.
“OK, love. Get your stuff and I’ll run you a bath.” She kissed my forehead before going upstairs. As I slowly made my way to my room, I thought back to the last time I was there, getting ready for school that morning. It was difficult to believe that all I had to worry about then was the kink in my hair and how much homework I needed to get finished so that my Saturday with Flynn would be free.
Flynn. Flynn.
I knew that there would be messages on my phone but couldn’t face reading them so, keeping the screen turned away as I took it out of my jeans pocket, turned it off and put it on my desk. After removing my clothes and putting on my dressing gown, I picked up clean underwear and my most comfortable pyjamas before walking to the bathroom.
Mum was sat on the edge of the bath, her hand swirling the bubbles and checking the temperature of the water. As she turned round, I could see that she had been crying. “I can’t remember the last time I ran you a bath, Cass. You used to love bubble baths when you were little.” She smiled at me, trying to remind me, and herself, of more innocent times.
“Thanks.”
“Do you want me to stay?” There was a hint of nervousness to her question and I couldn’t work out its cause.
“No, I’m fine. Honestly. I’m just going to have a soak and go to bed.” I took her hand in mine. “Thanks for everything tonight, Mum. I couldn’t have managed it without you.�
�� I let go of her hand, as if to emphasise that I wanted to be left by myself.
“OK, love. Call if you need anything.” With a quick kiss on my cheek, she left, pulling the door closed behind her.
After taking off my dressing gown, I avoided looking in the mirror above the sink as I lowered myself into the warm bath. Sliding down so that my body was submerged beneath the bubbles, I imagined the water removing all traces of Rob as it moved over me. Lying back, the warm eddies of water eased my muscles, breaking down the brittle tension I had been holding in for the last few hours. Tears, a combination of both sadness for what had been lost and relief that tonight was over, ran down my face. I picked up a flannel and held it to my eyes, allowing myself to let it all out.
When the crying stopped, I took the flannel and rubbed at every centimetre of skin that had been exposed to Rob. I had read magazine stories of rape victims who had scrubbed layers of skin away until they were red raw and I could understand why they did it; there was something cathartic about the burning sting left behind. But, for me, in my mind, I was making myself clean again, removing anything that might have been touched by him. I couldn’t look at my breasts without my brain flashing images of him touching me, so I focussed on counting the tiles to distract my mind from itself. I moved the cloth lower, rubbing at my thighs as I recalled the pressure of his legs pinning me down.
Opting not to top up the cooling water, I levered myself out of the bath, still avoiding the mirror, and got dressed for bed. I spent about ten minutes cleaning my teeth and gargling with mouthwash until every tastebud on my tongue was numb. I had cleansed myself of the physical element of tonight but I knew that was probably going to be the easiest part.
Sleep evaded me. After a while, I decided to give in to it, put my bedside lamp on and sat up, huddled in my duvet. Although my body felt more relaxed, my mind was crammed with ‘If only…’ and ‘What if…’. My brain tried to find the root cause of what had happened. This wasn’t a random attack by a stranger, after all. Something, somewhere, someone had started the chain of events that led to tonight.
And everything traced back to the night of the Sixth Form Christmas party. I know that I wouldn’t have let Rob get the photo of my boobs that he was after - and that would have been the end of the matter. If Flynn hadn’t stepped in, supposedly to rescue me from an embarrassing fate, none of this would have happened. Although he had the best of intentions, he wound Rob up and turned me into a competition that Rob had to win. Rob. Flynn. Rob. Flynn.
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