‘He raped me. I never slept with him. He took those pictures one night after I passed out. I think he drugged me.’

I had to get out, away from the heat and accusations. Stale beer, phoney merriment and claustrophobia pushed me from my seat. I struggled round the wooden benches to get outside. You followed, breaking into a run when you realised I was moving faster and faster down the High Road towards Barnet. I jogged at first then broke into a sprint until I could push no harder.

I collapsed on the green and slithered down against a tree, onto wet grass and debris. Wooden twigs and dead leaves broke my fall, seeping their wetness through my trousers. I cried and cried for wasted years, for loss of innocence, loss of love, and the violation of my body. The list was endless and only crying could block the memories, for now. Cathartic sobs, wild and free, flowed while you stood over me, immobile and impotent, willing me to stop.

The cold winter air was damp and biting. A lady walked past with her dog, a black Labrador puppy. She averted her eyes. Young lovers, she would surmise; a lovers’ tiff. The dog bounded over to me, hesitated, calming its excited tail and scampered away again. It wasn’t interested in misery. A walk was too precious to waste.

It seemed like an eternity before I stood up, drained of emotion, and allowed myself to be held. I collapsed onto your chest, sucking in deeply, inhaling your odour, your scent, your essence.

‘Come back with me. We can walk from here to my flat.’ It would have been that simple. Fate stepped in when I suggested, ‘Let’s pick our cars up first. It’ll be easier in the morning.’

If we had carried on walking straight to your flat, I might not have noticed the maroon estate car. It was parked a few metres up the road on the same side as the pub car park. The last three letters were ARB. Arthur Rowland Beck.

55

Arthur

The pain brought on by the shock of watching my mother with strangers who violated her body had been instrumental in the erection of a fortress around me. I built strong high walls impermeable to invaders. An ability to suffer, accept life’s cruel blows and swat them away triumphantly, had become second nature.

However, it took me well-nigh on ten minutes to start the car up outside the pub. While I could have blamed the cold frosty night air for playing havoc with the engine, I realised it was the scene in front of me that was rendering me incapable of coherent action.