‘It’s really more of a manual with practical advice sections in it,’ he answered me himself. ‘Things like having a backup plan for when you find yourself in a situation you’re not comfortable with, and learning it’s OK to say no and how to say it. The pressures we face as young people like, every day, are crazy mad and parents genuinely don’t know how to help their kids with current problems.’
‘What sort of problems?’ interrupted the presenter.
Jonathan shrugged. ‘Being stalked on social media and groomed, just for a start – and that’s while we’re in our own bedrooms. I just hope that because I’m actually the same age as the people the book will be aimed at, and I’ve had direct experience of these issues, it will make everything more accessible and maybe it will make a difference. I really hope so.’
‘“Groomed”?’ I repeated. ‘You little fucker.’
‘Hmm,’ said the interviewer. ‘You’re not cashing in on the publicity surrounding a case that hasn’t even been determined yet? You say this story of yours has hit a nerve; that you were effectively stalked by your female GP and harassed, but you’ve no proof that any of this actually happened, have you?’
I had no idea who this wannabe Piers Morgan was, but I could have kissed him.
‘It’s very rare for victims of sexual abuse to lie about it.’ Day didn’t even blink. ‘The way you’ve just spoken to me is pretty much the number one reason most victims don’t come forward.’
‘But you’ve never alleged you were abused. In fact, quite the opposite; you’ve maintained very firmly that everything was consensual. So apart from a very pretty boy having sex with an older woman who just happened to be his GP, what’s the story here? Apart from you using “your experiences” to make a lot of money?’
‘Have you got a son?’ Day asked the presenter directly, who nodded. ‘Ok. If he came home and told you he’d had sex several times with an older woman who was in a position of trust and he didn’t feel comfortable about what had happened, that he felt a real sense of shame about it, would you tell him to man up, that he should be pleased for seeing some action and stick the stripes on his arm? Or would you listen to what he had to say with as much compassion as you would offer a daughter who came home and said the exact same thing to you?’
Jesus. He was good. I began to feel very afraid for Alex.
‘Look – I think if you’re going to conduct media interviews where you’re being paid money and doing a book for thousands of pounds, before there has been any kind of formal determination about what actually happened – and let’s remember it isn’t a trial because there’s no question anyone has done anything illegal here – people are entitled to ask you difficult questions.’ The Piers-bot turned to Jonathan’s girlfriend challengingly. ‘You’ve not once been tempted to chuck him seeing as he cheated on you, by his own admission?’
‘Of course not.’ She smiled at him. ‘I’m really proud of Jonny for having the courage to speak out.’
‘Right – and you want to be a model yourself, don’t you?’ He dismissed her and turned back to Jonathan. ‘So to clarify, what would you say to anyone who accused you of cashing in on this story?’
‘Yes!’ I said, focusing intently. ‘What would you say, Jonathan?’
‘I’ve never wanted to make trouble,’ Jonathan replied earnestly. ‘I felt as if I had to speak out, otherwise people will keep abusing their positions of power and nothing will change. You’re right, everything that happened was legally consensual, but that doesn’t make it right. It was inappropriate. As I’ve said, I felt pressured on many occasions in a way I wasn’t comfortable with. I didn’t know how to stop it, and when I tried to walk away, she started appearing in my house out of nowhere. It was chilling, and—’
‘Can we turn this off now, please?’ Alex asked.
‘Hang on a minute.’ I held a hand up, trying to catch what had just been said.
She got up and quietly left the room.
‘I’m aware some people have judged me unfairly based on the fact I’ve done some modelling in the past. Should it make a difference what Cherry—’ he looked at his girlfriend ‘or I do for a living? Isn’t that as unacceptable as saying a woman should expect attention if she wears a short skirt?’
I hit live pause, suddenly unable to listen to another word myself, but the more I stared at his perfect, confident teenage face, full of the arrogance of a kid who didn’t know his arse from his elbow in terms of real-life problems and stresses and probably couldn’t care less about the damage he’d done to my family, the more I hated him.
He had fucked my wife and now he was fucking her over.
* * *
I went to find Alex. She was lying on our bed, in tears. I gathered her up as she sobbed properly. I felt disgusted with myself for bringing all of this down on my family. ‘No one is going to believe me,’ she cried into my chest. ‘Not with my record, and with him saying all this stuff all over the place.’
‘Of course they will.’
‘I’m a doctor because I want to help people. That’s all, and I’m good at it. I’m a good doctor, I care. I get worn down by it all, sometimes, but I’d never abuse my knowledge or position. I’m not the person they’re saying I am.’
‘Alex, look at me,’ I said fiercely. ‘You’ve done nothing wrong and you’ve nothing to hide.’
But hiding away was increasingly all she wanted to do. She would get the girls ready for school, I’d take them, then she’d go back to bed, emerging once I left to pick them up again in the afternoon. She’d do tea, baths and bed, then return to our bedroom herself. I did all of the shopping, pickups and drop offs, told my boss I might need to work at home for another couple of weeks and took the girls out on my own at the weekends to soft play and birthday parties. It was the least I could do, but by the time we hit two and a half weeks after the Days had confronted her in the surgery – in which she had not left the house once and was only speaking to Rachel and her mother, housebound herself while recovering from a hip operation – I was seriously worried. It wasn’t something that could continue on a practical basis for one, I needed to go back into London for meetings, but I was also concerned that Al was becoming full-on agoraphobic.
I didn’t know what else to do, and pretty much forced her to come with me on the morning school run the next morning, pointing out the more she withdrew, the guiltier she was making herself appear.
‘Everyone’s going to stare at me,’ she’d said as she pulled on the same jeans and jumper she’d worn the day before and looked at herself in our bedroom mirror, while Maisie and Tilly ran around excitedly upstairs in their uniforms before breakfast.
‘They won’t. Everyone knows what he said is complete bullshit.’
She didn’t say anything to that, just picked up the hairbrush and began to scrape her hair back into a ponytail. She hadn’t washed it and it looked a bit grim, but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t care for me, but I wanted her to feel better about herself and not letting things slip was an important part of that. She didn’t put on any make-up either and gripped my hand tightly as we made our way into the playground, Maisie and Tilly running ahead, thrilled to have both of us doing the drop off.
She’d been right, of course, they had all stared. I tried to pretend I wasn’t noticing them looking, and instead smiled widely and waved hello at the parents in Maisie’s year group, like everything was totally normal, as we walked over to the nursery. Most of them were polite enough to smile back, but they all darted curious glances at Al as we passed. She’d very noticeably lost weight and kept her eyes down on the ground, not making eye contact with any one.