Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

SEVEN YEARS EARLIER

L aurie crossed and uncrossed her legs. The desire to flee was too much. The clock on the waiting room wall said 6.15. Her appointment had been for six. Several times she had eyed the exit. All she had to do was tell the woman at the desk that she felt unwell and needed to go home. The jacket could be left at reception, and that would be that.

Closing her eyes, she tried to take a calming breath. It didn't help. Looking at the shut door opposite, she suddenly jumped up and was about to head for the exit when a voice said, ‘Laurie, sorry to keep you waiting.'

Her heart beat a little faster. ‘That's okay.' She turned around and came face to face with him. Today, she wore a winter skirt covering her knees and a loose jumper.

He opened the door for her, and she walked in. Her legs felt like jelly, and she walked quickly to the brown leather couch in case they gave way. In the future, whenever she smelled leather, she would think of this room and how her skin, even through her skirt, had stuck to this couch and how the wetness must have dripped onto it.

‘I brought your jacket.' She handed it to him.

‘How are you today?' His soft, cultured voice washed over her, a sound she could listen to all day.

‘I'm okay. I'm sorry about Friday,' she stuttered. Laurie had the feeling he was looking at her differently.

‘I'm pleased I was able to come to the rescue.'

‘Yes,' she said, blushing at the memory of her low-cut top and short skirt. She hoped he wouldn't mention that.

‘It's a bit warm in here. I'll get us some water, and we can begin.'

While he was gone, Laurie forced herself to take several deep breaths before he returned with the water. The glass was cold where he'd added ice, and Laurie held it against her flushed cheek before drinking.

‘So, would you like to talk about Friday night?' he asked gently.

God no , thought Laurie. That's the last thing I want to talk about. ‘Not really.'

‘It wasn't a hen night, was it?'

‘No, it was, honest.'

He laughed. Laurie thought how handsome he was when he laughed. ‘I think you're lying, Laurie.'

She lowered her head. It was like he could see right inside her mind. ‘It was just a night out.'

‘Do you often have nights out like that?'

Laurie swallowed and reached for the water. When she lifted her head again to look into his handsome, caring face, the room spun, and a sudden wave of nausea attacked her. She lifted the glass to her lips and drank, hoping it would help the sick feeling in her stomach.

‘No,' she lied.

He smiled at her indulgently. ‘You need to be honest with me, Laurie, if we're going to make progress.'

Laurie sighed. ‘It's just a few drinks with friends now and then. Honest.'

He looked deep into her eyes as though he were reading her mind. ‘How often do you have drinks out with friends?'

Laurie hesitated. For a moment, she couldn't think clearly.

‘Have you been missing school, Laurie?'

She shook her head. It felt funny.

‘You did look lovely Friday night,' he said.

Laurie knew he shouldn't be saying things like that and didn't know how to answer. ‘We only go out on special occasions,' she said, although it felt like someone else was speaking and not her.

‘Are you all right, Laurie?'

His voice seemed far away, and then she realised he was no longer sitting opposite her. He was at the door. Was he leaving? Then she heard a click and wondered why he was locking it. Suddenly, her head felt fuzzy, like it was full of cotton wool. I need the loo , she thought and went to stand, but her legs were too heavy and wouldn't hold her up. Instead, she ended up reeling back and falling onto the couch. Then he was there beside her, holding her hand.

She tried to say that she felt funny.

‘It's the heat,' he said.

‘Why did you lock the door?' she asked, a stab of fear flaring in her stomach.

‘You looked very sexy on Friday,' he whispered.

She pushed her hands down onto the couch and tried to get up. ‘I have to go,' she said. ‘I don't feel well.'

‘Here.' He was handing her the glass of water.

It was then Laurie realised. It had been the water. He'd put something in it. That's why she didn't feel well. ‘What have you done?' she asked fearfully, but she was now struggling to keep her eyes open.

‘You need some rest. You'll feel better soon.' He was too close, and his unfamiliar hands pulled at her skirt.

‘No, no!' She didn't know if the screamed words came out of her mouth or if she just thought them, but then his hand was over her mouth, silencing her. She couldn't understand why this was happening and didn't want to focus on the pain, thrusting and horrific violation. This couldn't be happening. He tore into her as if she were a piece of meat, simply a thing to bear the brunt of his uncontrollable lust.

Laurie told herself she must be dreaming. If only she could think straight and get her body to move, but it didn't feel like her body anymore. It was heavy, and she was weak and so very tired. So she closed her eyes and gave in to the overwhelming sleepiness.

Later, when she came round and saw him sitting at his desk, all she could focus on was the throbbing in her head. Then she felt the soreness between her legs and the ache in her thighs.

‘You're awake,' he said pleasantly. ‘Feeling better?' he asked.

Laurie's body shook. ‘What did you do?' she asked, struggling to stand up.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘What do you mean? We had our session, and you kept saying you were tired, so as you were my last session, I let you sleep. This drinking has to stop, Laurie. The hangovers–'

‘I'm not hungover. You drugged me,' she cried, tears rolling down her cheeks.

‘Laurie,' he pleaded. ‘Don't be ridiculous. Have some water.'

Laurie slapped the glass out of his hand and it landed with a crash on the floor. ‘Unlock the door,' she hissed. ‘You raped me, and I'm going to the police.'

His eyes met hers, and the hard determination in them unsettled her. ‘The door is unlocked, Laurie and always has been. You should be careful what you say, Laurie. Slander is no small thing.'

‘I'm underage,' she said, shaking so much that it felt like the floor beneath her was vibrating. ‘I was a virgin.'

‘I don't like your accusation, Laurie. I never touched you, and you know it. I don't know what your game is.'

‘This isn't a game. I'm going to the police,' she said, walking to the door.

‘Don't forget, Laurie, that you have a reputation as a drunk, bordering on alcoholism. You come from the trashy side of town and see me to aid you in your recovery. You're known as a bad student at school. I'm a professional with a good reputation and no hint of scandal. Who do you think they'll believe? No one has raped you. It would be best if you didn't make accusations like that. It's girls like you that ruin decent men's careers.'

Laurie's eyes smarted. He was right. People would think she was lying or that she encouraged it. How could her judgement have been so wrong? Standing up, she felt the wetness of his semen run down her thighs. The door opened easily, and she hurried from the room without looking back.

‘Excuse me,' called the receptionist. ‘You haven't booked your next appointment.'

Laurie ran from the building until she reached a public toilet. She locked herself in the seedy cubicle that stank of piss, wiped her thighs clean of blood and semen, and then stuffed a large wad of toilet paper between her legs. The police station was across the road, but she knew there was no point going there. They wouldn't believe her, a troublesome schoolgirl with a reputation for liking a good time. It would be his word against hers. She felt numb, and she didn't want to cry, not yet.

Ignoring the soreness in her breasts, she left the loo and went home.

‘Laurie, why aren't you at school?' called her mum.

‘I started my period, so they sent me home. I'm going to bed.'

She crawled under the duvet and sobbed.