‘Hi Debbie, it’s Eve,’ I said, my voice already cracking. Tears erupted from nowhere and I had to stop myself hanging up. The kitchen walls seemed to shrink in around me. I’d never felt so drained.

‘Eve, are you all right?’

Debbie and I had hit it off when I joined the company. Before I gave up smoking, we would congregate at the bus stop outside the office at least four times a day. She was nice, in her mid-thirties and married with kids, but too much of a gossip to be working in HR. As friendly as we were, I knew my story would be all over the building in minutes, but I had no choice.

‘No, I’m not to be honest. I need a few days off.’

‘What’s happened?’

‘I don’t want to go into detail but…’ I struggled to say it out loud. ‘I was sexually assaulted yesterday. I’ve just got back from the police station and I don’t feel up to coming in.’ My voice wobbled as I tried to fight back the tears, sniffing loudly.

‘Of course! Oh, my goodness, you poor girl. That’s terrible. Don’t even think about coming in. Take as long as you need. I’ll have a discreet word with Stuart and you get in touch when you’re ready to come back.’ The genuine concern in her voice was comforting. Every time I said it out loud, to another person, made it more real. My limbs felt weak and all energy zapped. ‘Is there anything at all we can do?’

‘No, thank you, Debbie.’

‘Okay, well we’re here if you need us. Keep in touch.’

‘Thanks, I better go,’ I said, hanging up.

I put my head in my hands and wept.

The flat was quiet, I couldn’t even hear Ben snoring. It made me feel uneasy, the silence, even though I knew I wasn’t on my own. All the doors were locked, and no one could get in.

Just as I changed into my pyjamas to get into bed, a knock came at the front door. I wrapped myself up in my dressing gown and hesitated by Ben’s door. Should I wake him up to answer it?

I tiptoed towards the door, but before I got to it, I heard Jane’s voice.

‘Eve, it’s me.’

I flung open the door and began to sob as soon as I saw her face, overwhelmed by how glad I was to see my closest friend.

Jane had on denim dungarees, a neon cropped T-shirt beneath, allowing a glimpse of her tiny midriff, and plimsolls. Her golden hair, long and loose. She practically carried me to my room and we huddled on my bed.

‘I’ve been so worried. You never called. I’ve been ringing and ringing.’