I gave her an abridged version of my ordeal. Normally, she never stopped talking, but that Friday night she listened in silence, her forehead scored by deep frown lines, until my words dried up.
‘He didn’t?—?’
I shook my head. ‘He didn’t get the chance.’ I didn’t like to dwell on what might’ve happened had it not been for Denise’s well-timed interruption. She’d stayed with me after Rob stalked from the room, and asked me if everything was all right. I told her I was fine. Everything was fine. I wasn’t sure she believed me, but what could she do?
‘I never forgave Denise for pinching the last of my Hobnobs that time, but she’s about to get the chance to redeem herself,’ Nessa said.
‘What d’you mean?’
‘I’m presuming you were pretty shaken up after it happened?’
I remembered the tears that had drenched my face as Rob pressed himself against me and nodded.
‘Good,’ Nessa said with satisfaction. ‘Not only can Denise vouch for the fact that Rob called you down to the photocopying room, she saw you were in bits afterwards. It’ll help when you report the bastard to the police.’
‘I’m not going to report him to the police.’
‘Why the hell not?’
‘Because it’s my word against his, Ness. Who’s going to believe me?’ I hate that I’m parroting Rob’s words back to my best friend, but he was right: whowouldbelieve me?
‘No, no, no.’ Nessa was shaking her head. ‘You can’t let him get away with this. You just can’t. At the very least you need to report him to HR. Have you seen the way he’s been drooling over that new girl? Rosie, isn’t it?’
‘Daisy,’ I said heavily. ‘And yes, I have.’ I ran my hands through my hair, pulling at the roots. ‘But what if they don’t believe me?’ I wailed. ‘I can’t afford to lose this job.’
‘They will,’ Nessa promised. ‘And even if that bastard manages to wriggle out of it, at least you’d know you tried. It’s all we can do. We have to try, otherwise men like Rob will keep ongetting away with it. And you know I’ll be with you every step of the way.’
I knew Nessa was right, and the following Monday, I made an official complaint. Once she’d finished taking notes, Sandra Cooper, the granite-faced head of HR, said the company was obliged to hold an internal investigation.
‘What does that involve?’ I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
‘We’ll speak to both parties plus any witnesses, as per our internal disciplinary procedures.’ Her voice was neither sympathetic nor disbelieving, just perfectly neutral, which only served to ramp up my self-doubt.
‘Will you tell the police?’
‘We’re not legally obliged to unless there are safeguarding issues, for example if the alleged victim was under eighteen. As you’re clearly not, it’s your call.’
And now, the internal investigation is complete, and the results are sitting in my inbox waiting for me to open them. Only I can’t, because I know in my heart that Rob Harvey will have lied through his teeth to Sandra. Probably told her I was the one who tried to seduce him, and she will believe him, because he’s one of the company’s most senior people, whereas I, on the other hand, am totally expendable.
As for Felix, maybe Ididread too much into the situation. Maybe he was being genuinely thoughtful and I let what happened with Rob taint my perspective. But I have his card marked, because there’s no way I’m ever going to be the victim again.
No bloody way.
29
AMBER
My amber necklace is gone.
The old woman from thematistall is staring at me like I’ve just picked up an axe and cleaved my own head in two. When I touch my face, I realise why. Silent tears are streaming unchecked down my cheeks. I brush them away and am about to apologise when she scuttles back behind her stall, watching me warily from behind the streams of pendants and dreamcatchers.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I tell myself I’ll have left it back at the villa, trying to ignore the spiteful little voice inside my head that says I’ve never forgotten it before.
I pull out my phone to ask Dom to check the room, but it goes straight to voicemail. I hang up without leaving a message. He’d only say I was making a fuss over nothing, even though the necklace is so much more than a gemstone on a silver chain. Apart from the few photos I have, it’s my last tangible link to Gran. It’s priceless.
I dither by a stall selling honey and olive oil. Part of me wants to dash back to the harbour, catch the next sea taxi back to Pelagia and check the room myself. But the sensible part of me, the part that recognises how unpopular I’ll be if I return to Villa Paradiso without Maria’s long list of groceries, wins. So I spendthe next hour food shopping, trying not to baulk at the prices as I hand over my credit card again and again.
When I’m done, I allow myself a strong, sweet Greek coffee in a small café at the far end of the market, choosing a table in the shade of an olive tree. Opposite, people crowd around a bric-a-brac stall selling everything from old pine towel rails and copper pots to paintings and ceramics. I push my fears about my necklace out of my mind and soak in the atmosphere. I am sipping coffee under an olive tree in a pretty Greek harbour town. The sky is the same shade of cobalt as my new amulet necklace and the air smells of garlic and herbs. I wonder what Gran would say if she could see me now. What Mum would say. Gran would be pleased for me, but I’m not so sure about Mum. She’d mutter something about me thinking I was better than the rest of them. Maybe she’d be right. It’s a privilege to be here. I mustn’t forget that.
