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“When I was fourteen, there was an...incident.”

“Can you tell me what kind?” It was almost as if a mild current was flowing across Rick’s skin. If he rolled up his sleeve, he was sure he’d find goose-bumps running up his arm.

“It was stupid. I went down to the beach with two other girls. We had a bottle of wine and we made a fire. I was telling my friends about this boy—Evan. His family had a holiday home on the west side of the island, and we all thought he was really handsome. He’d talked to me at the harbor that afternoon.”

Rick nodded her on. It seemed like a pretty standard boy-meets-girl story so far, but those kinds of stories had all kinds of potential to go wrong. Particularly for three young girls on their own on a beach.

“We didn’t see Evan and his friends, walking down the beach. They must have seen our fire, though, and they had a crate of beer with them. They were older than us, and there were six of them...”

The voltage stepped up. It was almost painful now. “What happened?”

“They sat down with us, and cracked open the beer. They were coming on a bit strong, and my friends made themselves scarce but I was with Evan and I thought he was okay.” Fleur was suddenly wide-eyed, staring at him as if she defied him to understand. “But he grabbed at me while all the other boys were watching. I told him no, but he didn’t listen. I managed to kick and punch him and somehow I got away. I used one of the paths that the tourists don’t know about up to the harbor. I was heading for home, but I saw the lights on in the sheriff’s office...”

“So you went there?”

“Yes. I was frightened they’d catch up with me, and I just wanted to be safe. I told Sheriff Taylor, the old sheriff, what had happened.”

“And you knew who these boys were?”

“I knew who Evan was. The others were his friends, and they were staying with his family for the summer. But Sheriff Taylor said he couldn’t do anything because there was no proof. I had a cut on my lip and my eye felt swollen, but he said that wouldn’t hold up in court, they’d say that I could have just fallen on the cliff path...” Fleur shrugged.

“But...the other girls...? Your friends.”

“We were fourteen, and we had a bottle of wine. The others would have got into such trouble with their parents, so I wouldn’t give their names.” She shrugged. “It was just my word against Evan’s and that wasn’t enough. There was nothing he could do.”

“What about your parents? Didn’t Sheriff Taylor call them?”

“Yeah, he took my statement and then he called my dad and asked him to come and get me.”

“What? A fourteen-year-old girl, who’d been assaulted, and he didn’t call your parents straight away, before he took your statement?” Rage rose in Rick’s chest and he felt his fingers clench on the arms of the chair. This was tantamount to abuse.

“I guess he should have. But I’d known Sheriff Taylor all my life. And he said that it wasn’t really an official statement because he couldn’t take things any further.”

There was more. There had to be more to it than this.

* * *

Fleur liked it that Rick looked as if he was about

to explode. He was angry for her. She hadn’t realized just how much that might mean to her until she saw it.

“Didn’t...?” He was making a clear effort to keep it together. “Didn’t the sheriff do anything to investigate? Even talk to these boys?”

“Not as far as I know. My dad was furious, but I felt I’d done the wrong thing and I just wanted to forget all about it, so I refused to talk about it anymore. A few people had seen me running through the harbor, and the whole thing got out. Everyone knew and they all had their own opinions about what had happened and who was to blame.”

A tear rolled down her cheek, and Rick almost leapt for the box of tissues, putting them on the bed next to her. One corner of the box was dented, from where she’d thrown it at him before. Fleur turned the corners of her mouth down, pulling out a tissue and wiping her eyes.

“I don’t see that there was more than one opinion to have.” His voice was gentle now. “You hadn’t done anything wrong, you’d been assaulted.”

At least he believed her. That meant a lot too.

“Some people thought that Evan had rejected me and I’d made it all up. I’d been drinking and I’d asked for it. Maybe they were right and I did give out all the wrong signals. I’ve been over it so many times in my head...”

“No. You told him no, Fleur. That’s the only signal he should have needed. No one’s allowed to touch you if you tell them not to. Please, tell me that you understand that.”

She understood. Rick did too. His murmured “May I...?” followed by a short pause before he examined her, sounded a little old-school and formal, but she liked that he did it. And she liked that his hand had just formed a fist on the arm of his chair, as if somehow he could defend her.

“I understand it, of course I do, but it doesn’t make any difference. No one likes any trouble with the visitors, the island depends on them for its income in the summer.”

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