We laughed, and I felt another wave of relief. Simon wasn’t afraid to socialize with me again, and this time I was going to be keeping my hands to myself.
The next day, I dressed carefully. My skirt was short, but it was summer. I wore a high-necked blouse that revealed nothing and a jacket over that.
At the end of the working day, Simon suggested we go to Bar Four before Angelo’s. Daniel said, ‘Okay, but only for a short while.’
We all walked down to the bar together. I was quiet, not wanting to be seen as too gregarious or needy. When we got there, I asked for a glass of wine, but Simon insisted we should have gin and tonics. He went to the bar while Daniel and I found a table. ‘Are you okay?’ he quizzed me. ‘You hardly said anything on the way over.’
‘Sure, I’m tired.’ And I was tired. The previous two weeks had taken their toll on me, and I hadn’t slept well, thinking of all the things that could have happened.
Simon came back with the drinks. I hadn’t drunk spirits before. Maybe growing up in a house with two alcoholics made me wary, but on a night out I’d have three glasses of wine max. The gin relaxed me, though. Simon was good company, telling funny stories about his tiny daughter whose first word was not ‘mama’ or ‘dada’, but ‘tractor’. Adanna was spending the weekend back at her parents’ farm in Cork with little Sadie. Simon ordered another round of drinks. Daniel didn’t want one. He wanted to get going to Angelo’s.
‘Will you go ahead and save us a seat? We’ve only just started these. We’ll follow you down,’ said Simon.
Daniel gave me a look, but Simon caught it. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t let her try to ravish me again,’ he said, laughing.
I blushed to my roots and Daniel looked confused. ‘I’ll see you down there, okay?’
‘Sure,’ I said.
Once Daniel was gone, Simon turned serious. ‘You know, I’ve been thinking about it and I may have led you astray after all, that day in the restaurant when I met you coming out of the bathroom. Remember, I twirled you around and kissed you on the cheek?’
I remembered, though I clearly recollected he had kissed me on the mouth.
‘I’m sorry, Lulu. I did it to a few of the girls that night. I remember worrying afterwards that some of them might think I was a lecherous old perve.’
I didn’t think anyone thought of him like that. But I appreciated the fact that he was owning up to this. I felt better. I hadn’t imagined things. Simon was just one of those flirty guys. He didn’t mean anything by it. We got into talking about relationships then. I told him about my first boyfriend in school. I also told him that, strictly speaking, I was queer – that I’d had a girlfriend in college but I was into guys now. I wanted him to know that I wasn’t as buttoned up as it might appear because I was such a work nerd. He then had me rate the guys in the office on a scale of 1 to 10. It was cruel but funny.
I think we mutually decided that we weren’t going to join Daniel. I texted him to say that I was too tired and that I was going home. It was a lie, and I should have gone to Angelo’s, but it was nice to have a proper conversation with Simon, knowing that it wasn’t going to lead anywhere. I could relax and be myself. He told me about his childhood, a weak mother and a father who left them both when he was fifteen. We had more drinks and then he announced he was starving and suggested we go toL’Étoile Bleuefor dinner.
I remember arriving at the restaurant; I remember trying to refuse more alcohol, but Simon insisted on a bottle of expensivewine. ‘You’re going to love it,’ he said, but after four G&Ts on an empty stomach, I wouldn’t have known the difference between champagne and cider. He filled my glass but not his own. ‘I’ll have some in a minute,’ he said, and he ordered food. I had fishcakes to start and duck confit for my main course. My glass never seemed to be empty. I remember saying ‘No more wine’ and he mimicked me in a baby voice, and we laughed hysterically. Everything was funny.
After that, I remember little. Moments came back to me.
Simon leaning over me outside somewhere. I must have been on the ground. Did I fall?
Simon struggling to get the key in the door of his apartment.
I must have fallen asleep in the chair because I remember being woken up and Simon giving me a glass of wine. Did I drink any of that?
The next thing I remember was waking up naked, and in terrible pain, not just from being hungover. I didn’t dare to count the welts and bruises all over my body. There was a terrible ache between my legs. A discarded used condom was on the floor beside me, and an empty wine bottle. Simon was fast asleep on the bed.
As quietly as I could, I gathered my clothes and my bag, and left. I hailed a taxi on the street and went home.
58
Ruby
In early August, Lucy came home early one Saturday morning in a state of hysteria. Crying uncontrollably, breathing erratically.
She had always been fiercely independent. She had desperately wanted to move out of home, but the internship in her company was only covering her day-to-day expenses. The housing crisis meant that she could be living with us for another ten years. At least we had plenty of room. When she was in college, she regularly had friends stay over, sometimes for weeks at a time, essentially because they couldn’t find anywhere to live. Jack loved having a house full of people. I was okay with it for a while, but on days when I couldn’t find a mug because they were in seven different rooms around the house, it became a hassle. I dared not say anything, though. Jack would take Lucy’s side. She communicated with us via WhatsApp. Woe betide us if we called her. She had made it clear that she no longer needed me and that I was not welcome to come into her bedroom without an invitation. She usually cooked her own food and ate in the garden room. She joined us for Sunday lunch every week as if she was visiting. That suited me, though Jack missed her a lot. And yet, here she was, choking with tears and clinging to Jack in a way that she hadn’t done since she was a toddler.
Jack tried to calm her. I was alarmed. ‘What’s happened? What’s wrong? Has somebody died? Did somebody hurt you?’I said. She shook her head and took several deep breaths before the story emerged in bits and pieces.
She told us that on Thursday, her manager, Simon, had asked her and a male colleague, Daniel, out for a drink after work on Friday. Lucy was nineteen years old. Simon was in his mid-thirties and close to the top in this Irish branch of a multinational company, ComStat Holdings. She had often mentioned Simon, how he praised her work, how kind he was, how he did charity work in Eritrea every year.
When Daniel left to go to a gay bar, she said yes when Simon asked her out to dinner. They had more wine with dinner. Lucy, as far as we knew, did not drink much. We weren’t sure because we never had alcohol at home. She said he was good fun and that he told stories about his wife and kids. She didn’t think he was seducing her. She could hardly remember anything after the main course was served but woke up naked on the floor of his bedroom in his apartment nearby the office this morning, not his family home. She didn’t remember getting there.
‘He raped me.’
