Butterfly (22 page)

Her gaze dances around the room
like that of a cornered, wounded animal.

‘It’s OK.’ I sit on the edge of
the desk as my heart breaks for her. I know it’s not OK. It’s far
from fucking OK. ‘Do you want a drink?’

She shakes her head. Tears spill
from her eyes, splashing down her cheeks and onto the floor. ‘I
found out where you worked from Theo’s friends. Theo said you went
out with him for a couple of years, but he broke it off with you
because you slept with someone else. He started rumours about you,
and I believed him…until now. I wanted to ask if he’d ever...’ She
trails off and stares at the ground, unable to get the words
out.

Even hearing his name makes the
anger bubble up inside, but I guess that’s a good thing. It’s way
better than feeling scared.

‘My name’s Rebecca. I was…seeing
him for six months.’ Her fingers shake in her lap.

My hands clench tightly at my
sides. ‘Did he rape you, too?’ My heart races in anticipation of
what she’s going to tell me. I hope I’m wrong. I pray with
everything I have that I’m mistaken, that she’s here for some other
reason entirely.

Her lower lip quivers.
‘Yes.’

I crouch down next to her,
wrapping my arms round her. She rests her head on my shoulder and
sobs like a child, her whole body heaving with the force of her
distress and pain.

‘I’m so sorry.’ Anguish for her
twists in my gut.

This is my fault. If I’d told
someone, if I’d reported him, he wouldn’t have been able to do this
to someone else.

‘Do you believe me?’ she
whispers.

‘Yes. I believe you. He did it
to me, too.’

Relief slides across her
features. ‘I don’t know what to do,’ she wails, her eyes silently
pleading with me for help.

‘When did it happen?’

‘Last...night.’ She has
difficulty getting the words out through her sniffs and sobs. ‘I… I
haven’t…told anyone.’

‘I’m so, so sorry.’ I stroke her
hair. ‘I didn’t tell anyone, either, and now he’s done it to you.
He can’t keep doing this.’

‘I…don’t know if I can…report
it. Who’s going to…believe me? You know…who his parents are.’ She
sniffs.

‘
I
believe you.’ I cradle
her head on my shoulder. ‘It’s not your fault, you know.’ I’ve been
where she is and know she’s going to take the blame on herself,
just as I did.

She lets out a strangled
cry.

‘It’s not your fault, please
believe me.’ I rub her back and hold her gaze, looking deep into
her eyes so there can be no mistake. ‘It’s
his
fault. And
I’m not letting him get away with it again. I’ll come with you.
I’ll report him, too.’

She takes an almighty sniff. ‘I
don’t think I can do it. I’m not that strong.’

I lean back, place my hand on
her shoulders. ‘We have to tell, Rebecca. He’ll just carry on doing
it if we don’t stop him.’

Her hopeless gaze stares back at
me.

‘What do you think?’ I say.
‘I’ll be with you, every step of the way.’

Shaking, she wipes her runny
nose on her shirtsleeve. ‘I’m scared.’

‘I know. But if we don’t, he’ll
get away with it again, and I can’t let that happen.’

‘I don’t want him to get away
with this, either,’ she whispers.

‘I don’t want to pressure you,
Rebecca. This is your choice and yours alone, but if we both report
what he did, we have more chance of people believing us.’

She looks away, thinking about
it for a few minutes as we sit in silence. The only sound is her
sniffs and snuffled breaths. When her gaze finally draws back to
mine, I see something I wish I’d had inside when it happened to
me.

Determination.

‘I want to report it,’ she
says.

I squeeze her hand. ‘OK, that’s
good, Rebecca. Can you wait here for a minute, and I’ll be
back?’

She nods.

I slip out of the room, close
the door, and go into the kitchen. I dial Ben’s number on my mobile
phone as I pace up and down.

‘Grace? Are you OK?’ He picks up
after a couple of rings.

Just hearing his voice is
instantly soothing. ‘Ben, thank God.’

‘What’s going on? Is everything
all right?’

‘I’m sorry to call you like
this.’

‘I said I’d always be here for
you and I meant it. If there’s something wrong, tell me.’

‘He’s done it again. Theo, he’s
done it to someone else.’ I tell him about Rebecca.

‘Fucking bastard.’

‘I’m going to report it with
her. I’m going to tell, too.’

‘Are you sure you want to do
this?’

‘I’ve never been more sure of
anything. I’m not letting him get away with it. I don’t want him to
do this to any more women.’ I think about everything she’ll go
through now. The terror, the blame, the self-hate. How the Rebecca
who was raped has gone now, died, and the unbelievably difficult
journey she’ll face to even begin to find herself again. I’m so
angry about it. So fucking angry I want to kill Theo. I run a hand
across my forehead to try to rub away the tension. ‘I thought it
was just me. I never thought he’d do this to anyone else. He never
had any problem getting women. Why did he do it? Why?’

‘You shouldn’t feel guilty that
you didn’t report him, and it’s not your fault he went on to do
this to someone else. You know that, right?’

‘But maybe by not reporting it,
I sent him a silent message that it was OK. That he could get away
with it again.’ My breath shudders with fury and guilt.

‘No, Grace. Rapists have a set
of ideas, beliefs, or motivations that are common in people who
rape. Things like inadequacy, control, power, weakness, anger. They
were there before he met you. You weren’t a trigger or responsible
in any way, and neither was Rebecca. It’s not about sex for them;
it’s about power, control, and dominance. Rape isn’t sex. It’s
grievous assault where a penis just happens to be the weapon.’

I rub a hand over my face. Ben’s
right. It’s not my fault. It never was, and I know so much better
now. ‘God, I wish I’d met you sooner. Maybe I would’ve had the
strength to report him if I’d spoken to someone when it
happened.’

‘You did what was right for you
at the time. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s
self-preservation. Do you want me to help? Shall I go with
you?’

‘I think right now she just
needs a female. When she’s ready to talk, I’m going to recommend
she speaks to someone.’

‘Go to the Rape Crisis Centre
first. They’ll gather any evidence and do tests, then they’ll
arrange for the police to talk to you both.’

‘OK.’

‘If you need me, just call me,
all right?’

‘Yes.’

‘And Grace...I just want to
say…you’re the strongest, most amazing woman I know.’

~~~~

The afternoon flies by at the
centre. I hold Rebecca’s hand as they give her an examination, take
swabs, scrape under fingernails, photograph bruises, and gather
other evidence. The staff is fantastic—sympathetic, kind, caring.
They take time to explain exactly what they’re doing and what other
services they can offer for rape survivors, helping to ease some of
Rebecca’s anxiety and trauma. They tell her that rape is
notoriously underreported and how brave she is.

Two police officers arrive at
the centre to take our statements, but I don’t fall apart as I did
when I told Ben my story all those months ago. Strangely, I don’t
shed a single tear. It’s strangely cathartic to finally get it out
there where it belongs. Like the more times I tell it, the stronger
I feel. The more I realize I
am
a survivor. I went through
something horrific, tragic, but it didn’t break me. I’m putting the
blame firmly on him and not me. I’m not ashamed or dirty anymore. I
don’t hate myself. I’m fighting back the way I know how to now.

I’d be lying if I said what
stretches in front of us is going to be easy. Ben told me retelling
a rape is sometimes the same as going through it again in real
time, but nothing is going to stop me doing this.

At seven-thirty p.m., I drive
Rebecca to her parents’ house. She hasn’t told them anything yet,
and she’s silent on the drive back. I know the turmoil of emotions
raging through her, so I don’t press her to talk about things.

I turn off the engine and swing
round to face her. ‘Do you want me to be there when you tell
them?’

‘No. I need to do this on my
own.’ She looks down at her fingers resting in her lap and picks at
her nails. ‘Thank you, though. I don’t think I could’ve gone
through all that today without you.’

‘You’re very welcome. If you
need me for anything, just call, OK?’

She reaches for the door handle
then pauses, turning back to me. ‘You seem really strong and put
together. How did you get through it all?’

I lean my head back on the
headrest and close my eyes. ‘I cried a lot. I died inside. I was
angry. I hated myself. I felt guilty, ashamed. I had nightmares. I
carried on with my life on autopilot, trying to pretend to the
world that I was OK. Getting through the endless days was so hard,
but the nights were the worst.’ I open my eyes and face her. ‘I
wanted help. I knew I needed to talk about it. I wanted to move on,
I just didn’t know how to. And then I met an amazing counsellor,
Rebecca. You may not be ready to see someone about this yet, but
when you are, talk to someone who can help.’ I reach out and
squeeze her hand. ‘If I can get through this, you can, too.’

46

BEN

I pace up and down in my tiny
flat after she calls me. Hearing her voice…God, I’ve missed her so
much.

I’m wired. I can’t sit still as
I imagine what Grace and Rebecca are going through. It takes every
piece of strength I have to stay here instead of finding Theo and
dishing out my own justice. But I’ve learnt my lesson from the
past. I can’t even think about doing that.

It can go two ways for Grace.
Either retelling her story will knock her back down again, or it
will be another part of the recovery process. Only time will tell,
and all I can do is be here for her. If she’ll let me.

I feel helpless, just waiting
like this. By the time it gets dark, I can’t wait any longer. I
have to see her.

I walk to her flat and find it
in darkness when I knock on the door. She doesn’t answer, so I sit
on the top step and wait for her. Half an hour later, her car pulls
into the car park.

I stand up as she gets out of
the car. She looks up at me and her face crumples with relief at
the sight of me. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part.
Maybe she’s just completely exhausted.

She hurries up the steps and
falls into my arms. I bury my lips in her hair, inhaling vanilla. I
wrap her close against me and it’s like I’ve come home again after
a long, tiring journey. I never want to let her go again.

‘How did it go?’ I ask
urgently.

‘No one should have to do that.’
She says into my chest, her arms holding onto my waist like she
can’t bear to let me go. We stand like that in silence, clinging to
each other.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’
I ask eventually.

She sniffs, steps out of my
arms, and unlocks her door. ‘Come in.’ She takes my hand and leads
me to the sofa.

I sit next to her and she leans
her head on my shoulder. I put my arm around her and wait for her
to tell me what happened.

‘I thought it would be harder
than it was, making a statement to the police. It’s worse for
Rebecca. At least I’ve had time to work through things.’

‘Sometimes the
fear
of
doing something is actually worse than the
doing
part.’ A
thought flashes into my head that I should listen to my own advice,
but I push it away. Now isn’t the right time.

It will never be the right time.
I know now I can never tell her the truth about me. These empty
weeks without her have been too much. I couldn’t face forever.

‘It feels…weird,’ she says. ‘I
know I
have
to go through with this. For Rebecca and myself,
and any other women out there that he might do the same to. But I
actually
want
to. I want to see this through to the end.
Being in a courtroom and telling strangers what happened is going
to freak me out, probably, but I think it will be the end of my
journey, you know? It will be closure.’

I kiss the top of her head.
Tears of pride for her burn in my eyes. ‘In the beginning, I told
you that you were stronger than you thought, and you didn’t believe
me. Now you know it, too.’

‘I’ve missed you so much.’ She
twists around and looks up at me, tears spilling down her
cheeks.

‘Not as much as I’ve missed
you.’ I wipe her face with my fingertips.

‘But I don’t deserve you, Ben.
You don’t want someone damaged like me. You should be able to have
a real relationship.’

‘I told you before, I’m not
going anywhere. I just want to protect you and love you like you
deserve to be loved. I want to make you so safe and secure you
never want to leave. Whatever happens, we can handle it together.’
I frame her face in my hands and kiss her with tenderness.

‘Will you stay the night?’ she
asks. ‘Even if I’m not capable of giving myself to you completely,
I really want you here with me.’

‘I’ll stay forever if you want.’
I pull her tighter, our hearts beating so close together I can’t
tell whether the vibration in my chest is coming from her or me,
and it’s like we’re one.

~~~~

I don’t think I’ve slept all
night. I’ve spent pretty much the whole time staring at her, not
quite believing I’m lying in her bed. She’s hardly stirred,
sleeping soundly with no nightmares to haunt her. I’ve got pins and
needles in my arm where she’s snuggled up against me under the
duvet, her head pressed into the crook of my shoulder, but who
gives a shit? I don’t want to move. Don’t even want to breathe.
Just want to stay like this forever with her wrapped in my arms.
It’s like she was made to be just here, as if we’re a perfect fit
for each other.