‘A tiny fracture, I suspect. As long as you have been resting then it shouldn’t be a problem; a couple of weeks and it could be back to normal. The bruise on your back will heal in less time; nothing there is damaged. Why don’t you want these on your record?’

He picked up his oversized sweatshirt and she helped him to put it back on.

‘Is your door locked?’ he asked as he kicked off his shoes. He walked over to the trolley and started to unbutton his jeans.

‘Could you turn around, please?’

He had no choice.

Dr Hadley locked the door and waited as he climbed up on the bed facing away from her. Every movement caused him pain, his eyes wet with those unexpected tears. He wasn’t sure if it was the constant pain or deep-rooted humiliation that was causing them.

‘OK,’ Adrian said.

‘What happened to you, DS Miles?’ she asked as she approached, pulling the sweatshirt up and exposing his injuries.

‘What does it look like?’ Adrian said.

‘Jesus! When did this happen?’

‘A couple of nights ago.’

‘This was non-consensual?’

‘I did not consent, no.’

‘And you’ve not seen a doctor until now? Why did you wait?’

‘I thought I could get better on my own.’

‘Do you mind if I examine you?’

‘That’s why I am here. Sorry to spring my pasty backside on you like this,’ he tried to joke.

‘I’m going to have to touch you to do a proper examination. I’ll use lubricant and I’ll be as fast and gentle as I can, is that OK with you?’

‘Yes. I need to get back to work and at the moment, I can’t even sit down. Is there anything you can do about that?’

‘Have you spoken to anyone about this?’ she asked quietly.

‘Just you. I haven’t told anyone else and I don’t want anyone to know. This could destroy my career if anyone finds out.’

‘You didn’t report it?’ Dr Hadley said.

‘No. The thought of anyone else knowing is making me suicidal. I can get through this, but I need to do it my way,’ Adrian said, appreciating his own hypocrisy. He had always implored victims to come forward and speak out and yet here he was unwilling to do the same.

She placed her hand on his hip to warn him that she was starting her examination. Adrian couldn’t talk anymore. He was concentrating on staying still, terrified of the pain that he knew was coming. She was gentle, but it made no difference. The crying started again and he hated himself for it. He wanted to throw up again; he wanted to run away.

‘We are still within a window where a swab might provide results if it only happened a couple of nights ago.’