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‘Why?’ Vivien asked, nervously.
Audrey took a deep breath, and then she said, ‘Because he’s always touching me, he touched me in the gallery in a way I didn’t like. I asked him not to.’ Audrey’s face reddened. ‘I found him watching me in the shower once, just standing there, in the doorway of my room.’ The relief of saying something flooded out of her in fresh tears.
After what seemed like a long pause, Vivien said, ‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?’ Her voice was strained.
Audrey just shook her head. Was it because each incident had been too small, too undefinable, that it was more of a feeling than one specific event?
‘I didn’t want to upset you. I thought maybe if I moved out...’
They hugged for a while in silence, then Vivien shuffled in her chair and said quietly, ‘And it definitely can’t have been a misunderstanding? He has a tactile manner, his boundaries are... It couldn’t have been a mistake?’
‘No. No mistake,’ Audrey said, then, after a pause: ‘You don’t believe me?’
Vivien looked up, locking eyes with her daughter, and there was a steeliness in her face now.
‘I believe you. I would always believe you.’
