Struggling against him, an abstract thought drifts across my mind: he’s surprisingly heavy for someone so leanly built. Pinned to the chair by his body, he brushes away the hair that’s fallen onto my face, his eyes angry and...
‘I don’t normally do plain.’ His breath smells like whiskey, his eyes, I now realise, filled with lust and frightening ideas. ‘Perhaps there is something about you.’
I turn my head to avoid his hovering mouth, panic swelling as I push hard with my arms. But his mouth fastens to my neck and he bites. I yell out again in frustration, in pain. Another detached thought arises: my connection between pleasure and pain lies only with Kai.
Fear swells in my throat, the darkness of the area suddenly suffocating.Oh, God, this can’t be happening.Surely someone will see! Someone please step in, intervene?
We grapple and struggle against one another, his hand on my leg, his fingers clawing at my thighs as he snarls insults. About Kai. About me.
Then suddenly, I’m free, his body dragged away by hands I can’t see.
‘Kate! Kate!’ Niamh shakes me by the shoulders. ‘Are you okay?’
My face is wet, tears streaming down my face as I shiver uncontrollably. Niamh bodily moves me, pulling me upright and walking me towards the restroom, pushing through crowds who seem to stare. If not for her arms banded across my shoulders, I don’t think I could stand.
Inside, she settles me into a plush, pink sofa just inside the door.
‘It’s okay, they’re calling the police.’ She kneels before me, her hands rubbing and soothing my arms as though I were cold.
‘No, don’t!’ I cry grabbing her forearms. ‘I don’t want the police involved.’ Words swirl through my head... debauched slut... lose my job. Kai.
‘Don’t be daft! You have to. The fucker assaulted you!’
‘Please, Niamh. I just want to go home.’ Fat, wet tears continue to roll down my face. ‘Please.’ As I put my head in my hands, the door to the restroom opens and a tall, striking blonde walks in.
‘Madam, the manager wishes to speak with you. Come, I will take you.’ Her accent is Eastern European, her tone kind.
‘Why can’t I just go home?’ I ask in a whisper. I wrap arms around myself, feeling as though I’m unravelling, shaking, excess adrenaline flooding my veins.
‘Come,’ she repeats softly. ‘We will arrange transport very soon.’ The cadence of her voice is soft and calming and I know I can’t stay in the chair. In order to go home, I have to leave this room.
‘No police, okay?’
‘Let me first say how dreadfully sorry I am.’
The manager’s voice and face are sincere as I sit with an un-tasted cup of something hot in my hands. Niamh sits beside me, her arm against mine in support, almost touching.
‘But I think you’re quite correct in not involving the police at this stage.’
‘No feckin’ way!’ Niamh exclaims. ‘She was assaulted on your premises! How is not reporting this a good thing for her?’
‘Of course, in an ideal world, the police would be called and this man would be arrested and charged. But this isn’t an ideal world, this is Dubai. I’ve lived here for over 20 years and I know involving the police might very well add to your friend’s ordeal.’
‘You just want to let him go, don’t want the bad publicity!’
‘With your friend’s permission.’ He doesn’t look at Niamh, instead pulling a chair in front of the sofa, his eyes level with mine. ‘I’m afraid involving the police could mean meeting your attacker, in the police station, face to face. You’d be made to recount your ordeal in front of him while he, I expect, refutes your claim. Do either of you speak Arabic?’ He glances between us as we both shake our heads. ‘Let’s just say it would be, at best, an unpleasantly futile evening. At worst, you yourself could end up being arrested.’
‘What!’ Niamh exclaims.
‘It’s true, I’m afraid. If your attacker turns to accuser, who knows what could transpire. An arrest for immoral behaviour? Charges, jail, eventual deportation? Dubai’s gilt can wear thin in these circumstances. Very fast.’
‘He’s rich,’ I say. My voice rasps like I haven’t used it in a while. ‘From an influential family. Leave it, Niamh, please. I just want to go leave.’
‘Given the circumstances, a judicious decision, I feel. Again, I’m sorry our staff were unable to intervene earlier.’ His face is earnest and his voice low as he takes my smaller hands in his. ‘Allow me to arrange your transport. If there is anything we can do beyond—’
‘Where is he?’ The thought of seeing him, even inadvertently, fills me with dread.
‘We’ll be sure to keep him here until you have left.’
Retrieving my hand, I pull it across my face to contain a sob.
