My body ached for sex. It was a surprise to me as I’d never been aware of it in the old days before Pete. But Pete and I had spent most of our time together in physical contact even if only his hand resting lightly in the small of my back and now I missed every bit of it, the non-sexual casual touch, the kissing, the fondling, the calming stroking, the erotic, the actual sex, the orgasms. Sometimes as I dropped off to sleep I’d remember something and I’d have a sharp intake of breath and a sudden tightening in my stomach. I felt tense all the time and isolated, craving some physical contact. I wasn’t going to let on to this to anyone as I’d always been very dismissive of Quinn’s apparent constant need for physical contact and his predilection for screwing around. But I had a bit more sympathy for him at the moment if this was what he felt like, with added testosterone on top. In fact his touchy-feely nature came in quite handy right now. I was aware that I shouldn’t compromise my principles but despite that I said nothing whenever he arrived into the flat and came over to me and immediately started massaging my neck as a kind of hello, or danced me around the room to something catchy on the radio, or leant against me on the settee when watching TV. I never made the first move, but merely neglected to put a stop to anything.
On Thursday Jo asked me over to work on the car again. I suppose I’d assumed that meant that Pete wouldn’t be around again. But when I walked into the barn I was dismayed to see that he and Paul were working on his car. Jo had moved the one we were working on to the other end of the barn so that there was some distance between us, but I wouldn’t mind betting that she and Paul had set this up deliberately to try to get us past the complete avoiding each other stalemate that we were currently in. I felt a jagged flash of anger at their duplicitous stage management, despite the fact that I knew they were right.
“So what did the doctor say?” Jo asked in greeting.
I’d gone to my GP after work to ask whether he would pass me fit to drive again.
I shook my head. “He’s insisting on another week.”
“Oh well,” Jo said, “It means we’ve got all weekend then to finish the work.”
“He may have solved the mystery though,” I informed her. “He says I have consistently low blood pressure which means that I have to be careful to keep my fluids up, and keep eating regularly to maintain my blood sugar levels, and I’m to eat plenty of salt. He thinks I might have passed out at the point of the pile up and before I hit the post, so the weight of my foot would have been on the accelerator. He was up to date with the show so he’d watched the footage a few times…”
Jo went instantly ballistic and Paul came over.
“I told you Dad! I told you we shouldn’t have made her drive that weekend when she was so upset. All that crying and no eating or drinking, her blood pressure would have been at rock bottom!”
“So does this mean you’re in danger of randomly passing out?” Paul asked with a frown.
I shook my head. “He said that there was no reason at all why it should happen again as long as I was careful to keep up food and fluids. He suggested eating a packet of crisps on race days for the salt, and drink a glass of cold water just before the race as that would instantly put my blood pressure up. I pointed out that the all in one racing overalls weren’t designed for female peeing needs, but he says that if I have the water just before the race then I won’t need to expel it again until well afterwards.”
“Ok,” Paul said. “So we need to make sure you follow his advice and you’re not to snap at us if we ask you if you’ve eaten – agreed?”
I sighed. I could see the beginning of the nanny state.
“And no more big dramas, huh?” He chided. “And on our side, we’ll agree that if you come to us and say you don’t want to race we’ll take you seriously instead of trying to barrack you into it as a matter of holding team discipline. Is that a bargain?”
I nodded. That seemed fair. After Paul went back to the other car, where he probably reported back what had been said to Pete, I said to Jo. “As for any more big dramas – apart from a death, I just can’t imagine what else could possibly happen…”
Paul received a work phone call and walked outside to take it. While he was out of the way, Pete walked over to us.
“I’m sorry about the accident, Eve,” he said.
I kept my back turned. “Piss off,” I said.
“You can’t never speak to me again,” Pete said. “That would be completely ridiculous.”
“Just watch me,” I said fiercely, still not turning round.
Jo looked up and glared at him. “Just back off Pete!”
Paul came back in, glanced over, and Pete went back to his car.
“Has your Dad said anything to him yet?” I asked in a low voice once Paul had gone to the radio and turned it up loud, presumably to give both teams some privacy.
Jo shook her head. “I got so fed up of waiting for one of them to report back to me, I asked Mum, and she said that Dad plans to do it this weekend when they’re away down south together. Makes sense. Two days to find the right opportunity, no chance of the evil bitch turning up, and no way of Pete escaping as he’ll be trapped in the Beast with Dad for hours.”
When I got home there was news of the other side of the equation from Quinn. He looked up from the settee. “Siân’s run away,” he informed me.
I came over and perched on the arm. “Why’s that then?”
“Mum says she was so hacked off, not her exact words of course, about Siân’s bitchy little jab at Sue on the programme on Wednesday, she ‘had it out with her’ and confronted her about her exhibitionist sexual gymnastics and they had such a row that Siân grabbed up some things and walked out.”
Kes came out of his room looking horrified. “How does your Mum know?” He demanded.
We glanced at each other then Quinn manned up and was the one to answer, “We told her.”
Kes was furious. “How could you do that?”
“We’re trying to stop Siân.” I explained. “We’re trying to get her to close that blogspot down. If this all comes out it’ll affect Kathleen Quinn really badly so we thought she deserved to know about it and have a go at trying to control Siân.”
Kes threw himself into an armchair and groaned. “This is like an endless nightmare! I just don’t know when the axe is going to fall…”
Kes reported that he’d spotted Siân at college as usual, so clearly she hadn’t gone far. Just holed up with a friend. Well she won’t be able to hang around Pete’s neck all weekend whining about how she’s had to run away from home to carry on seeing him, I thought with satisfaction, as he won’t be around.
Sue came down to the barn on Saturday with morning coffee and cakes. She gave me a big hug. “I miss you so much,” she said.
She made us lunch and an evening meal as well. I was persuaded to stay over in the spare room, now wishing that I had at least left my toiletries in the house, and I left about three o’clock on the Sunday so as to avoid the men if they came home a bit earlier than expected. I’d left my phone in the spare room all day, and when I went looking for it just before I left, I found lots of missed calls on it, from Jaimi and Toby.
Outside, as I walked to my bike I listened to my voicemail messages. Jaimi – please get in contact with her as soon as possible. Toby – please get in contact with him as soon as possible. Strange.
I rang Jaimi before getting on the bike.
“I’ve been trying to get hold of you all day!” When she heard where I was she insisted that I called round at her house on my way home.
I couldn’t be bothered to ring Toby. Those media types were so self important – to them everything was urgent. He could ring me back himself if he wanted to get hold of me that much.
Jaimi took me straight to her room. “Steel yourself, Eve,” she said without preamble. I still didn’t get het up. If anything I thought it would be something about Siân.
Jaimi pulled out a Sunday newspaper. A prominent headline on the
first page read, ‘Eve in more thrills than spills, ex-boyfriend reveals Pete wasn’t her ‘first’ as she likes to claim’ – ‘with saucy photos to prove it – turn to page 4’.
I actually frowned, puzzled. What ex-boyfriend? Jaimi silently opened the newspaper up at the page. It was a double page spread. And then I froze. A big full length picture of Luke Trevelyn smiling at the camera. A grainy picture of myself naked on his bed, the sheet twisted round my legs but not hiding anything. Eyes closed. They’d put tiny yellow stars over my nipples and one just between my legs but not so that it hid more than the absolutely necessary. Another photo of myself half dressed, red dress pulled down to my waist, red knickers and red high heels on the floor – apparently looking at the camera. As well as one of me from behind, lying completely naked on my stomach on the bed with my legs apart (another small star featuring).
“Breathe, Eve,” she instructed, gripping my hand with her own.
‘Handsome Luke Trevelyn worked with Eve at the Entwistle’s garage long before Pete came along. He told us of the drink and drugs fuelled orgy that Eve took part in with him but later denied. Here is the proof. So maybe Eve has been living up to her name all along as the original temptress, and isn’t as innocent as she seems!’
That was it. The sole pathetic written copy. The point was clearly to show off the pictures.
Jaimi looked worriedly into my face. “I’m sorry Eve, but you just needed to know straight away.”
I could hardly comprehend that these disgusting pictures of myself were lying on every other kitchen table or living room sofa in the country. The sense of humiliation and shame was almost beyond being able to bear. No wonder Toby was wanting to get hold of me.
Jaimi made me ring him straight away with herself sitting beside me.
“Thank God, Eve!” He exclaimed. “Have you seen the Sunday papers?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Now I want you to keep really calm because we’re going to have to decide how to manage this ok? Have you got anyone with you?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Firstly,” he said in professional tones. “I know this is a really difficult thing for you, but I’m going to have to ask some questions so we can address what’s going on here… Ok? Don’t get angry with me when I ask them, everything you say to me is confidential at the moment so please tell me the truth or the situation will just escalate, ok?”
“Ok,” I said. Jaimi squeezed my hand encouragingly.
“Who was this Luke Trevelyn and what happened the evening that he took the photos?”
“Luke Trevelyn was a mechanic who worked briefly at Entwistle’s. He took me out for a meal, slipped a drug in my drink so that I couldn’t do anything to fight him off, took me back to his flat despite me begging him to take me home, and raped me.”
There was a silence at the end of the line. Then Toby took a deep breath. “So then what happened?”
“I woke up alone in his flat, managed to get home, went into work, told my employer what he’d done, and Entwistle sacked him.”
“You told your boss?” Toby sounded gobsmacked.
“Well originally I went in to give in my notice, as clearly I couldn’t work there anymore, and then I just blurted it out.”
“Shit,” Toby said, sounding a bit less professional for a moment.
“Yes, exactly,” I said.
“So who knows about this?”
“My boss, Pete and my best friend Jaimi.”
“So no-one else at all?”
“Well I s’pose the staff who were on the night that Jaimi took me to the STD clinic to get checked out.”
“Ok.” There was a short silence.
“So in an ideal world what would you like to happen now?”
“I wish it had never happened.”
“Yes, of course you do. But it’s happened. And some lurid pictures are splashed over a smutty newspaper and now we are going to have to address that fact. Are you willing to go on camera to say what really happened?”
“Of course I’m fucking not!” I exploded.
“Ok, that’s understandable. Are you willing for the three people who know what happened to let the world know on your behalf, so that you don’t have to do it?”
I sat motionless with my eyes closed, trying to breathe.
“Eve?”
“Maybe,” I said reluctantly.
“If you don’t say what really happened then everyone is going to take what this man says as gospel instead aren’t they?”
“Fuck it!” I yelled at the wall.
Toby waited for me to calm down. “Eve, we need to work fast to get this all recorded before Wednesday. So give me this Jaimi’s phone number– “
I got Jaimi to read it out.
“And what I want you to do is to ring your boss and warn him. And then go into hiding.”
“What?”
“You need to find somewhere to go where no-one will guess where you are, and you mustn’t tell anyone, and I mean anyone, not even your family or friends where you are or even that you’re about to go anywhere. You need to disappear until all the fuss has died down otherwise you are going to get hounded by the press. And don’t even use your phone. Yes I know you are now, but once you get to a safe place, switch it off and don’t use it all. We all know the press aren’t supposed to hack into phones and we also all know that they do, so just be on the safe side…”
“God,” I said nervously. This sounded unbelievably serious.
“Listen Eve, we’re on your side. We’ll do our damndest to make sure your side of the story gets heard and to prove that this guy is a liar, so all you need to do is sit tight and wait, ok?”
He rang off and Jaimi looked anxiously at me and said, “Well?”
Chetsi let me in and showed me to their spare room.
“Thanks so much for this Chetsi, thanks so much. And I don’t even know how long I’ll have to stay.”
It was now nine pm on the Sunday evening and I found my hands were shaking. I’d nipped back to the flat to get a few things, never said a word to the boys who hadn’t seemed to notice and then I’d left again. I rang Entwistle on his mobile, something I’d never done on his day off before, and explained what was happening. I apologised profusely for yet again needing to miss work, and told him I didn’t care what he said to the cameras, he had permission to tell the truth. Reluctantly I realised that I couldn’t let the Satterthwaites know, but I figured Jo would find out soon enough when I didn’t come to work on Monday morning.
Chetsi hadn’t seen the mucky paper, not the sort of thing she read.
“Oh poor you,” she said sympathetically. “That’s appalling!”
I felt really awkward about being in their house, but it was the perfect solution. No-one would ever think of coming here to look for me.
“Will you be alright for a day on your own?” She asked. “We can sit down and have a proper chat about it tomorrow night.”
I nodded. Yes, a day on my own would be good. And yes a chat about it would be good. There was something incredibly calming about Chetsi. Her husband Taib was on a late shift, so I was able to retire to bed before he got in and let Chetsi explain without me present, why there was suddenly someone in their guest room.
I expected not to be able to sleep, but I’d been working physically hard all day, and I still felt emotionally exhausted after the upset with Pete, so I hardly seemed able to get up the energy to ring my hands over this latest disaster. Taib was up working on his computer when I emerged the next morning, and Chetsi was already gone to work which was awkward. I’d only met Taib the once - at that somewhat artificially set-up dinner party.
“How’s the head injury?” He asked.
“Dunno,” I said. “I’m not completely doolally if that’s what you mean?”
He laughed. “No, that’s not what I meant!”
“Neck ache and head ache,” I summed up succinctly, “but you’ll be glad to know that I’ve remembered what you
do with a swivel end ratcheting combination wrench.”
“Oh good,” he said with a smile. “Because that’s one up on me – I certainly wouldn’t know what to do with one!”
I sat down on their sofa and asked for the password for their wi-fi. While I was waiting for my tablet to connect to it, I also added. “Low blood pressure.”
“What?” He glanced back up from his keyboard.
“Caused the accident. I’ve got very low blood pressure and my doctor thinks I fainted.”
Taib looked concerned. “Do you do that a lot?”
I shook my head. “Only when I haven’t been eating and drinking for days.”
He jerked his head towards the open plan kitchen in the flat. “Go and get some breakfast then, and that’s an order.”
I hesitated. It seemed weird to just help myself in a stranger’s kitchen.
“There’s bread and cereal,” Taib suggested. He went back to typing then stopped and added. “And eat plenty of salt.”
Once Taib went to work I could relax. Unfortunately, with relaxation came the unwelcome thoughts. How could I ever face anyone again? They’d all seen me naked... They’d all seen my bits! And the most that Toby seemed to think they’d achieve was to tell the whole country, my father included and Quinn and Kes and everyone who knew me, that I’d been humiliatingly raped. I hadn’t really thought about my Dad yet. When I did, I started to cry. And all those men out there on the oil rig. They’d know. Everyone would know. All those men at the raceways would know. The men at work would know. All the customers would know. I had thought there could be nothing worse than being raped. But now I thought there was a level worse – being humiliatingly raped and then the whole world hearing every detail of it and seeing the pictures. That bastard! That absolute bastard!
Thrills and Spills Page 24
