‘Were you attracted to him?’ Richard Sickert quietly asked.
She gave a small nod. ‘A tiny bit, I suppose. He was a television star. He was familiar right from the beginning, just from seeing him on the TV, and he was modest and seemed genuinely interested in learning. He borrowed loads of medical books off me. Made me explain medical terms until he completely understood. I suppose I admired him for that. He wasn’t just going to learn some lines and that was that. He was going to be faithful to the character he was playing. Anyway, as I say, it was day five. It was a hot day. That lovely late summer we had. The department was like a furnace, fans switched on, people guzzling water and desperate to get home so that they could lie out in their gardens.
‘I was in the major incident room with him. He wanted me to show him the equipment we used and the suits we have to put on when we’re called to a major incident. He had his back towards me while I was trying to struggle into one. Normally, for training purposes, I would have kept my tunic and trousers on underneath the suit, but it was so hot in the room I would have fainted if I’d kept them on.’
‘So he turned his back?’
‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘I had my back to him as well to give me a bit more privacy. I had the suit hitched to my hips and was trying to get my feet into the heavy-duty boots when suddenly he grabbed me from behind. I couldn’t stand up. I was completely bent over and the suit was slipping down round my ankles.’
Her eyes screwed shut as she remembered the moment and her heart began to thump unpleasantly. ‘He put his hand down my pants and a hand beneath my bra and then he pressed himself against me. I tried to shove him off, but he leaned his whole weight on my back. ’ She swallowed hard and could feel her body beginning shake. ‘Shit, I don’t want to think about this, I don’t want to remember his hands crawling all over me. I could feel him trying to undo his trousers. I was terrified. Then he touched me .?.?. I could feel him against my skin. He was dragging my pants down. I struggled to get away, shoving backwards and forwards, and then I fell to my knees. My head was shoved in against the bottom shelves and I was thinking it ludicrous that I was looking at all this medical equipment while he was on top of me. I could feel him .?.?. I knew it was going to happen .?.?. I .?.?.’
She gulped for breath and her eyes opened wide, trying to feel safe again. Richard Sickert moved forward in his chair as if to console her. She put a hand up to ward him off. ‘I’m all right. I just need a moment.’
‘Do you want a glass of water?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Do you want to carry on?’
‘Yes. There’s not much more to tell. I managed to grab a boot and I started hitting him blindly on his legs. I must have hit him hard because the next thing he was off me and I was able to turn round. He was bent forward, his trousers undone, his penis exposed. I shouted at him, told him I’d report him. That he wouldn’t get away with it. And he .?.?. he laughed. He said nobody would believe me. They all knew why I’d brought him into that room. They all knew I fancied him. He said, “Let’s be honest, Alex, you’ve been gagging for it all week. Who do you think they’ll believe?”?’
For the third time that day her face was wet.
Richard Sickert handed her some tissues and she was reminded of the time that Greg Turner had done the same. Her life lately seemed to revolve around people handing her tissues.
The psychoanalyst went and made some more tea while she composed herself, and when he returned, he sat with her quietly for a long time before he eventually said, ‘Did you report him?’
She shook her head. ‘I couldn’t. I was afraid that I wouldn’t be believed. Do you think it’s only in my mind, what has happened to me recently?’
He gave a small shrug. ‘It’s possible. This could be your way of dealing with what happened to you last year. I can’t tell you if the attack in the car park was real. What I can tell you is that you need to deal with last year. A man nearly raped you and you walked away from that situation feeling that no one would believe you.’
He hesitated, and she could see indecision in his eyes.
‘I think you should report this to the police,’ he said finally.
*
Her eyelids were stinging and swollen from the salty tears and her face was tender. Maggie gave her a cold flannel to soothe herself and Alex cooled her tender skin. She then took a gulp of wine and felt herself begin to calm. She was exhausted, but also strangely at peace.
‘So I was right? You did suffer a trauma in your past?’ Maggie’s voice intruded softly.
Alex nodded. ‘You know everything now.’
‘Richard Sickert’s right, Alex. You do need to report him to the police.’
Alex’s knees rose up as she tried to curl into a ball and ignore her friend’s advice.
‘They won’t believe me, Maggie,’ she cried crossly. ‘Not unless I can get him to admit it.’
‘So, let’s do that.’
Alex looked at her confused.
‘Do what?’
‘Get him to admit it. I’ll help you,’ Maggie said determinedly. ‘Confront this man, Alex, and then this will be over.’
*
Laura Best disconnected the call and put away her mobile with a satisfied smile. It was a good start to the day. She had taken the right approach by giving sympathy first, and now she was going to get a result. A meeting place and time had been set up, and by the afternoon she would know what had happened to Dr Taylor last year.
Convinced that it was going to show the doctor in a bad light, she was already planning what to do with the information. By tonight she expected the doctor’s car to be impounded and the woman to be brought into the station for questioning.
Greg Turner could then apologise for his less than supportive behaviour and hopefully this apology would take place in front of officers more senior than him.
In the meantime she wanted to check the CCTV at petrol stations that had car washes and find the one Alex Taylor had used. She would drive the route from Bath to Cribbs Causeway in Bristol, where Taylor said she had shopped, and hopefully find not only the petrol station, but also get the time she was there.
The plus side to this fishing expedition was that there were only three shopping days left until Christmas and Laura had yet to buy a single thing for her family and friends. She could kill two birds with one stone by spending the rest of the afternoon this way.
‘Planning who to bed next?’ Dennis Morgan whispered bitterly in her ear. His eyes were reproachful when she turned to face him.
‘Hello, Dennis. I was just thinking about you,’ she lied sweetly.
She could see he was not drawn in by the lie, see the disdain in his eyes as he walked away.
Maybe she should just try being honest.