for love and
affection, whose weakness he could take advantage of.
‘Gradually, he became
possessive. I couldn’t go out unless it was with him and his
friends. I had to wear what he wanted me to wear. Do what he wanted
to. But I thought I was in love with him, and I thought it was
normal. I’d never been in a serious relationship before. Any
relationship, really.’ A familiar band of panic tightens across my
chest, and my hands shake so I wring them together to try to stop
it. ‘He’d never been violent before that night. We’d been to a
party with some of his rugby friends, and he was pretty drunk. When
we got back to his house, he started having a go at me, saying I
was flirting with some guy there. It wasn’t true, but nothing I
said to him made any difference.’ My voice drops to a whisper. ‘He
just kept getting louder and angrier and then…it all happened so
fast, it was hard at first to really comprehend what was going on…’
All the breath has left my body. I’m lightheaded, so I hang onto
the edge of the table for support, but I have to carry on. Have to
get this out finally. ‘He hit me across the face. He plays rugby,
so he’s a big guy, and it was really hard. I was so shocked, I
froze. I couldn’t move at all. He threw me on his bed and…’ I can’t
say it. I can’t say the word.
‘He raped you?’
I flinch at the ugliness of
it.
‘Saying the word doesn’t bring
the act to life or condone it. It lessens the fear and shows you’re in control, not it.’
My gaze meets his for a fleeting
moment before looking away. ‘Yes. I was raped.’ I nod up and down
uncontrollably. My cheeks are wet with tears.
Suddenly, I can’t breathe
anymore. I gasp for air, but my shoulders shudder so much it’s
impossible. I’m having a heart attack. I think I’m actually going
to die, and maybe that would be easier than trying to stay
alive.
‘Just breathe, Grace.’ Ben’s
voice is steady, completely calm. ‘Look at me and breathe, OK? You
can do it.’
I look up to his face, but this
is a bad one, and I can’t focus. I clutch my chest and lean
forward, hunching my body over my knees, battling to get my
breathing under control. I can’t feel my hands anymore. An ache in
the back of my skull hammers away like a pneumatic drill.
‘Breathe with me. Come on,
Grace, you can do this.’ He takes a deep breath in and a deep
breath out. ‘Grace, you’re OK.’
Something about the way he says
my name, or how he’s so calm and sure, makes me finally see him
properly. My chest heaves in erratic gasps, but I try to
concentrate on his eyes.
‘In. Out. Nice and deep.’
I find myself following him.
Breathing to his rhythm. I don’t know how long it takes, but the
grip on my chest gradually relaxes, and I stop shaking.
‘You’re doing great.’ He smiles.
‘Just keep breathing, OK?’
Sensation tingles back into my
fingers. I wipe my cheeks with them as I keep my gaze locked onto
his.
He pushes the paper napkins on
the table towards me in silence. He doesn’t ask me if I’m OK, which
would probably have finished me off. Instead, he tells me I’m OK in
a soothing voice.
‘You’re safe, Grace. It’s not
happening now. You’re here with me, and you’re OK. You’re just
having a flashback, which can happen. It’s important to know why these panic attacks are happening and why you’re feeling
how you are. If you can understand why, it’ll help the
process.’
‘I’m so sorry.’ I take a tissue.
I must look a complete mess, but he hasn’t batted an eyelid. He
looks like we’re just having a casual chat about the weather or
something.
I wipe my eyes and blow my nose,
which sounds so loud in the silent shop.
‘Why are you sorry?’ he asks.
‘It’s not your fault. It’s his fault.’
‘It is my fault!’ I cry. ‘If I’d
done something differently, it wouldn’t have happened.’
He pauses for a moment. It’s
something I’ve noticed about him. He seems to think long
affection, whose weakness he could take advantage of.
‘Gradually, he became
possessive. I couldn’t go out unless it was with him and his
friends. I had to wear what he wanted me to wear. Do what he wanted
to. But I thought I was in love with him, and I thought it was
normal. I’d never been in a serious relationship before. Any
relationship, really.’ A familiar band of panic tightens across my
chest, and my hands shake so I wring them together to try to stop
it. ‘He’d never been violent before that night. We’d been to a
party with some of his rugby friends, and he was pretty drunk. When
we got back to his house, he started having a go at me, saying I
was flirting with some guy there. It wasn’t true, but nothing I
said to him made any difference.’ My voice drops to a whisper. ‘He
just kept getting louder and angrier and then…it all happened so
fast, it was hard at first to really comprehend what was going on…’
All the breath has left my body. I’m lightheaded, so I hang onto
the edge of the table for support, but I have to carry on. Have to
get this out finally. ‘He hit me across the face. He plays rugby,
so he’s a big guy, and it was really hard. I was so shocked, I
froze. I couldn’t move at all. He threw me on his bed and…’ I can’t
say it. I can’t say the word.
‘He raped you?’
I flinch at the ugliness of
it.
‘Saying the word doesn’t bring
the act to life or condone it. It lessens the fear and shows you’re in control, not it.’
My gaze meets his for a fleeting
moment before looking away. ‘Yes. I was raped.’ I nod up and down
uncontrollably. My cheeks are wet with tears.
Suddenly, I can’t breathe
anymore. I gasp for air, but my shoulders shudder so much it’s
impossible. I’m having a heart attack. I think I’m actually going
to die, and maybe that would be easier than trying to stay
alive.
‘Just breathe, Grace.’ Ben’s
voice is steady, completely calm. ‘Look at me and breathe, OK? You
can do it.’
I look up to his face, but this
is a bad one, and I can’t focus. I clutch my chest and lean
forward, hunching my body over my knees, battling to get my
breathing under control. I can’t feel my hands anymore. An ache in
the back of my skull hammers away like a pneumatic drill.
‘Breathe with me. Come on,
Grace, you can do this.’ He takes a deep breath in and a deep
breath out. ‘Grace, you’re OK.’
Something about the way he says
my name, or how he’s so calm and sure, makes me finally see him
properly. My chest heaves in erratic gasps, but I try to
concentrate on his eyes.
‘In. Out. Nice and deep.’
I find myself following him.
Breathing to his rhythm. I don’t know how long it takes, but the
grip on my chest gradually relaxes, and I stop shaking.
‘You’re doing great.’ He smiles.
‘Just keep breathing, OK?’
Sensation tingles back into my
fingers. I wipe my cheeks with them as I keep my gaze locked onto
his.
He pushes the paper napkins on
the table towards me in silence. He doesn’t ask me if I’m OK, which
would probably have finished me off. Instead, he tells me I’m OK in
a soothing voice.
‘You’re safe, Grace. It’s not
happening now. You’re here with me, and you’re OK. You’re just
having a flashback, which can happen. It’s important to know why these panic attacks are happening and why you’re feeling
how you are. If you can understand why, it’ll help the
process.’
‘I’m so sorry.’ I take a tissue.
I must look a complete mess, but he hasn’t batted an eyelid. He
looks like we’re just having a casual chat about the weather or
something.
I wipe my eyes and blow my nose,
which sounds so loud in the silent shop.
‘Why are you sorry?’ he asks.
‘It’s not your fault. It’s his fault.’
‘It is my fault!’ I cry. ‘If I’d
done something differently, it wouldn’t have happened.’
He pauses for a moment. It’s
something I’ve noticed about him. He seems to think long
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