by Gemma Rogers
Jane came down for the afternoon. She had suggested I come to her, to get out, but could hear my reluctance. She lived in Balham, in a flat-share with three other nurses. It was cramped and too busy, plus I didn’t want to get on a train yet, not by myself. Train stations were always packed and lots of people made my anxiety spike. I feared I’d pass out on the platform, easy-pickings for the unsavoury. Ben joined us for lunch; awkwardly just after I’d told Jane that I might be developing feelings for him. Her excitement was palpable at a possible love interest and her eyes glistened devilishly. I knew she wouldn’t say anything, but my mouth dried up, so getting through my sandwich was a challenge.
Ben was oblivious to Jane’s background checks. Before I could get a word in, she’d found out most of his history. Born in Croydon, he was the eldest, with a younger sister. His parents moved to Spain when he was twenty-five, so he had had to find somewhere to live. Moved in with his sister for a while, then rented two other flats before he moved in with me. Apparently, he’d had similar problems with flatmates that I‘d had. He turned twenty-eight in April and was saving up a deposit to buy his own place, then he wanted to open his own security firm.
‘Any girlfriends?’
Ben’s ears grew pink, and I squirmed in my seat.
‘Jane!’ I countered.
‘Two serious, a few not particularly serious. Nothing at the minute.’
My pulse quickened, and I took a bite of my sandwich as Jane lifted her eyebrows at me.
‘Eve’s the same. One at high school, one from work and her ex, Dean, but you and him were only together for about six months, weren’t you?’ Jane pointed her crisp at me and I began to cough, choking on a slice of ham I’d swallowed too quickly. Ben had to pat me on the back to dislodge it.
‘Thanks for the chairs,’ I said to Ben when I could speak again, hoping to change the subject. He bought a set of four matching ones to replace the three mismatched ones left after my outburst.
‘Chairs?’ Jane screwed up her face and Ben began to laugh.
‘She broke one,’ he said, nudging my elbow with his. I rolled my eyes.
Later, when Ben had left to go out, Jane voiced her approval. She thought Ben was perfect, but I told her I hadn’t even decided whether I liked him yet. In return, she threw me a knowing look, but I shrugged it off. I was able to offload my worries about Mum and her drinking, on top of the redundancies at work. I didn’t tell her about my debt, some things were too embarrassing to talk about.
Jane told me she’d started seeing a doctor in neurology. He was tall with wavy blond hair and I could see from her face she was already smitten. She said he was toying with the idea of coming travelling with her next year and she’d set a date of the first of February. She thought that would give her enough time to save up the rest of her travelling money. I was excited for her but couldn’t help feeling sad she would be leaving me, probably for a year.
Monday 9 October 2017
I scrolled down the page, trying to find what I wanted. It amazed me what could be bought online, delivered anonymously to an address with no repercussions. What would you have to buy for red flags to be raised? What purchases would result in a knock on the door from the police?
There, I found what I was looking for. A rape alarm to carry with me. Yesterday I went back to the boxing club with Ben, used the weight machines and the punchbag. I’d caught the bug and was keen to return. He’d offered me the use of his car during the day, when he would be sleeping, but the club was less than a mile away and I decided I would try to jog there and back. A tick in the box on the cardio front.
I checked out, my credit card details saved on the website from the numerous purchases I’d made already.
I had a few hours spare before I had to be at work for the redundancy meeting in the afternoon and I was itching to go back to the boxing club. I rang and told Stuart I would be taking another week, and that I was still anxious about going out, but I would endeavour to make the redundancy meeting. I didn’t want to forget to hand in my doctor’s certificate, which had run out on Friday. I intended to self-certify this week. What with us potentially losing our jobs, I wasn’t in a rush to return.
I started slow, a minute’s jog, then a minute’s walk. Enjoying the fresh air. I didn’t need music to propel me, anger carried me along. I only had to picture his face, the one I’d conjured from the shape of the balaclava, to boil my blood. His mouth, smirking, was what I visualised as my trainers pounded the pavement. I needed new ones, proper ones for running.
Jason was impressed when I arrived and gave me a quick circuit training session, moving from the bag, to the weights and then the speedball.
‘Listen, you’re not going to make any money letting me train here for free,’ I said, as he helped me out of my gloves.
‘You’re my best mate’s girl. I can’t charge you.’
I snorted. What had Ben been telling him?
‘Honestly, let me pay. Give me a half-price discount if you feel guilty,’ I suggested cheekily.
‘All right, if you insist.’ We shook hands and went into the office, so I could fill in the direct debit form. I felt sick signing it, more money coming out when I didn’t have enough going in, but at least I wouldn’t feel like I was taking advantage.
I really had to push myself to jog home, only speeding up when it started to rain. As I rounded the corner, my flat in sight, I collided with a man, bouncing off him and falling awkwardly back onto the pavement, winded with a bruised backside.
The man towered over me, a looming monster in shadow. He wore desert boots and jogging bottoms covered in dust. ‘You all right, lass?’ he said. Leaning down, he wrapped an arm around my back. His hand stuck underneath my armpit, pulling me up with ease.
Who the fuck did he think he was? The shock of the collision and him touching me uninvited made me erupt. Shoving his hands away, I screamed obscenities in his face. His eyes widened, and he stepped back. My face twisted in fury, teeth bared like an animal.
‘Crazy bitch,’ he muttered and pushed past me to carry on in the direction I had run from.
I felt invigorated. More alive than I had in ages. The veins in my neck and forehead stood proud, the rush of adrenaline immense. I could do this. I could get my life back. I could work at becoming better, stronger and faster. I had a purpose.
The group meeting at work was uncomfortable. Debbie tried to be professional, but even she welled up in parts, obviously not as confident as she first thought about staying. We stood together at the back as other members of staff chipped in their two pennies’ worth. They’d riled themselves up and Mike, the Operations Manager, was having a hard time controlling the room. A booming voice from the human resources director talked over everyone. But there wasn’t much more information than Debbie had forwarded on Friday.
At the end of the group meeting, Stuart and I met in his office with a man I’d never seen before. He was Russian, with a name I knew I wouldn’t be able to pronounce as soon as he introduced himself. He was a HR consultant who’d been brought on board to streamline the merging of the two companies. The office was too hot, and I felt my underarms dampen the blouse I’d put on for my visit.
‘Thank you for coming in, Eve. I understand this been a very difficult couple of weeks for you. I’m sorry to hear of your incident.’
Incident? That got my back up. It wasn’t a car accident.
‘I see you were in attendance at the meeting just now. Do you have any questions currently? Or if you’d feel more comfortable I could ask Mike, the employee representative, to get in touch with you if you’d rather go through him?’
‘I’m considering voluntary redundancy if it would be an option for me?’ I admitted, glancing guiltily at Stuart, who grimaced but remained silent.
‘Okay, I’ll discuss the possibility of this in more detail with Stuart and potentially get some figures together for you.’
I pushed my doctor’s certificate across the table to Stuart and stood to leave.
> ‘Is there anything else?’ I asked, keen to get out of there.
‘No, not at the moment. We’ll be in touch.’
I felt sick as I walked out of the office. I couldn’t find Debbie anywhere, and she wasn’t at the bus stop. I’d make sure to text her later and see how she was. I debated with myself all the way home. Why would I give up a perfectly good job when I was knee deep in debt? What if I couldn’t get another one? The voice in my head counselled, You’re just getting your figures, you don’t have to accept whatever package they offer. But my stomach somersaulted all the way home.
13
Sunday 28 January 2018
Hicks steps outside the room with Becker for a minute, my solicitor hot on their heels, while I remain, sat at the table. A custody officer guards the door, looking anywhere but at me. I stare at my hands which still have remnants of blood in the creases of my knuckles. I ache for a proper shower, so I can have a wash, with soap this time. I want to remove every trace of Ian from my skin. I need to sleep soon too. The ringing in my ears has developed into a pounding headache, like a woodpecker at my temple. What are they doing? Looking at CCTV? Surely the lab results wouldn’t be back this soon? Perhaps they are trying to corroborate what I have told them so far? It shouldn’t be hard. Maybe they are trying to unnerve me? It’s working. I must stick as close to the truth as possible. I’m not lying, it all happened, and most of it in the way I’m going to describe.
I don’t like sitting alone, the room seems to be shrinking and I drum my fingers on the desk. It could be that my name in the system has brought back a result and they are reading my file. It’s going to happen eventually for sure, unless I’m really lucky.
Five minutes go by and Becker waltzes back in.
‘We’re going to finish this for tonight and pick it up again in the morning. Jamie will take you back to your cell.’ It’s not ‘tonight’ any more, closer to three or four. My eyelids are heavy and I’m glad for the respite. She gestures towards the young officer standing beside her at the door. I catch her try to stifle a yawn. Her pristine exterior is beginning to crack.
‘What time is it?’ I ask.
Becker glances at her watch. It’s a plain, leather strap no-frills, design.
‘Half past three. Can I get you anything? Tea? Something to eat?’
‘No, thank you, I just want to sleep.’
I yawn, hiding my amusement as I watch Becker turn away to do the same.
Once inside the cell, I put on grey jogging bottoms and a sweatshirt that’s been left for me, to replace the paper suit. Glad not to have the irritating crackle every time I move. Wrapped in my blanket, I huddle down on the bench. Fully intending to go over answers to questions I know I will be asked in a few hours, but within minutes my eyes are closing, exhaustion wins, and I drift off to sleep. For the first time in months I don’t dream at all.
Tuesday 10 October 2017
The following day, I roped Ben into taking me to the supermarket, where I stocked up on meat, so I could get the protein I was lacking.
‘I bet you didn’t know I could cook,’ I said to Ben, putting some diced pork into the trolley. The aisle was freezing, and my jumper wasn’t doing much to stave off the cold. Outside, the temperature had dropped, the Indian summer we’d been blessed with had gone and autumn was on its way. The supermarket was already filling its shelves with pumpkins and sweets for trick or treat.
‘Are you going to cook for me then?’ Ben’s eyes sparkled.
‘I might. What do you like?’
Ben put two sirloin steaks into the trolley and raised his eyebrows at me expectantly. I swallowed hard but smiled. I hoped he was paying?
‘Okay, you’re on. I’ll cook you a steak tonight. How do you have it?’
‘Medium is fine. Anything as long as it’s not bleeding.’
‘Me too.’ I chuckled.
‘I’ve got to pop out this afternoon though,’ he said.
‘Table will be laid for seven. If you’re late it’s going in the dog.’
‘We don’t have a dog.’
I had a productive afternoon cleaning the flat, putting on washing and even fitted in a workout at lunchtime. Jason had been there and humoured me with some light sparring in the ring. I looked like an idiot, wearing the helmet and mouthguard, but we danced around, and he was kind enough to let me land a few punches. My groin ached from yesterday’s jog, so I walked most of the way there and back, not wanting to push myself too much too soon.
When I got home, I showered and put on jeans and a top, something fitted opposed to the baggy clothes I’d been wearing recently. When I looked at my reflection, the girl I used to be stared back. I wore my mousy hair down after smoothing with the straighteners. It felt odd as I hadn’t worn it loose since the attack. Remembering him yank my hair sent a shudder through me. I applied a touch of make-up but still something was missing. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
At six Ben still wasn’t home. I laid the table, setting out the napkins and wine glasses. I found them in the back of the cupboard; we didn’t usually drink wine. I lit a candle in the middle of the two settings, then blew it out again. Was it too intimate? Was I sending out the wrong message? What message did I want to send? I hadn’t been out with anyone since Dean, a year ago, but things felt different with Ben. I’d never cooked for Dean, but we had gone out for dinner a few times before things fizzled out. A relationship wasn’t at the top of either of our priorities at the time; I’d wanted to concentrate on building my career in marketing. Now the enthusiasm for that had dwindled too. I’d been changed by the assault, life had been turned on its head. Things that used to matter so much to me were irrelevant, and stuff which would previously go over my head infuriated me now. I wasn’t sure who I was any more. I was still waiting for the pills to level me out.
At quarter to seven, I pan fried the steaks, turning them over and browning each side. They sizzled, filling the kitchen with a delicious aroma. I had made potato wedges and a salad to go with the steak and bought a cheesecake for dessert. It wasn’t until I was taking the wedges out of the oven that I heard Ben’s key in the door. My mouth dropped open in surprise, oven glove in hand, as he entered the kitchen. He’d been to the hairdressers and his shaggy dark hair had been transformed into a short back and sides. He wore a blue and red checked shirt tucked into dark denim jeans. I had never seen him look so smart out of his work clothes. He plonked a bottle of wine on the table and grinned at my open mouth.
‘Wine? It’s chilled,’ he asked as he grabbed a corkscrew out of the drawer and opened the bottle.
‘Wow. Look at you!’ I turned my back on him and busied myself dishing up to hide the blush creeping up my neck. ‘Sit,’ I ordered and delivered the plates to the table as he poured. ‘I didn’t think you were coming,’ I admitted.
‘Like I’d stand you up. My life wouldn’t be worth living. I’ve been on the end of one of your punches remember.’
The strange atmosphere between us, charged from when he’d entered the room, dispersed. Ben cut through his steak, blushing pink in the middle but thankfully no blood, popped it in his mouth and chewed. His eyes rolling in delight.
‘Amazing,’ he said. His pupils were dilated, but I couldn’t work out if it was the steak or me.
We chatted about his afternoon, he went out to the barbers and then the shops before stopping in to see Jason on the way home.
‘Did he tell you I was there earlier?’
‘Yep. He’s quite impressed, you know, thinks you have talent.’
I scoffed at that. ‘Unlikely.’
We moved on to talk about his work, the issues he was having onboarding a company who wanted to store antique furniture. The conversation flowed effortlessly; Ben was easy to talk to and I enjoyed his company. Plus, he made me laugh.
‘I have some news,’ I said, taking a sip of my second glass of wine. My head swam. Wine wasn’t my best drink and the alcohol was already starting to take effect, even with a st
omach full of steak. Ben removed the empty plates in front of us, putting them on the side. He came back to the table and lit us both a cigarette. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I was quitting.
‘Go on.’ The intensity of his stare made my stomach flip.
‘I think I’m being made redundant.’
Ben frowned, taking in my announcement. ‘Fuck, Eve. I’m sorry. God why do all these things come at once!’
‘No, no, it’s voluntary.’ I wasn’t sure why I was telling Ben, maybe because I’d decided to go for it, take the money, clear my debts and start again.
‘Why?’ Ben was still frowning. Why was he frowning?
‘Because I need a change.’ I crossed my arms, annoyed he wasn’t looking at it positively. His concern mirrored my own and made me agitated, shifting in my seat. ‘Anyway, forget it. Let’s talk about something else,’ I said, trying to change the subject.
‘Okay, it’s your decision. I just don’t understand why, but I guess it’s up to you.’
‘Yes, it is, and I could do without your negativity.’ Regretting it as soon as it was out.
Ben spluttered, almost spitting his mouthful of wine all over the table. ‘Yeah, my negativity. Of course. That’s a fucking laugh that is. I’m the negative one?’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I hadn’t meant to raise my voice, it just happened. I stubbed my cigarette out in the ashtray.
‘It’s him, isn’t it. You’re throwing your life away because of him.’
‘This has nothing to do with him.’
‘Yeah, sure.’ Ben’s eye’s darkened and he sneered.
‘I’m taking control, Ben. I need a change, a fresh start somewhere new. I’ll always be a victim there.’
‘They’ll forget in time.’
‘I won’t.’ I replied.
Ben looked away, taking a large gulp of wine. I had to make sure that I was going to be more than what had happened to me. I was a grown woman and it was time I took control of my life and decided where I wanted it to go. A new career could be the positive outcome in all this. Perhaps one in fitness? I could train to be an instructor. I was enjoying the exercise and working out with Jason. The idea swam around in my mind, beginning to take shape. It gave me something to think about for the future at least.
