LITMIR.BIZ

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do mine, for all that he’s at least twenty years my junior…’

      The Taveners were laughing. Jake was smiling that cool, imperturbable smile he used whenever he didn’t want anyone to know what he was feeling, and Stephanie tried to smile in response, only her mouth felt stiff, refusing to respond to the commands of her brain. Fortunately, the lights had gone down, so no one else could see her expression, but Jake… As she forced herself to concentrate on the screen, Stephanie wondered if he had known the content of the film beforehand.

      What on earth was the matter with her? Sex scenes were common nowadays; she could hardly switch on the television without seeing someone parading about in the nude. But she could always switch the television set off again, whereas here… She realised that James Tavener was talking to her and tried to concentrate.

      ‘We had a lot of problems with the rape scene…’ he told her. ‘I mean we wanted something realistic, but only to get across the girl’s anguish, so that the audience could appreciate what comes later with Blaize. You see, this girl avoids all contact with men, and then she meets this guy, and…’

      ‘Let her watch it for herself, James,’ Livy Tavener interrupted. ‘Honestly, this film’s his baby, and he’s crazy about it,’ she told Stephanie. ‘He’s hoping it will get an “Oscar”. It certainly deserves one. Laura Howard and Blaize play their parts so realistically. The emotion between them almost reaches out to enfold you…’

      Stephanie tried to stand up. She had to get away. She couldn’t sit here and watch this film. Panic dashed over her in waves, her body alternately hot and then cold. Dimly, she was aware of Jake’s fingers curling round her wrist, lean and firm, imparting a steadying warmth to her frozen skin.

      ‘Sit down…’ The quiet command helped to steady her.

      ‘Jake, I can’t watch this…’ she pleaded huskily, ‘You know…’

      ‘Yes, I know,’ he broke in softly, ‘but you can’t keep on running for ever, Steph. Some time, you’re going to have to stop and turn round and confront your fears. Tonight might be as good a time as any.’

      ‘You brought me here deliberately,’ she whispered agonisedly. ‘You knew…’

      ‘Yes, I knew,’ he agreed emotionlessly. ‘Now sit down again unless you want the Taveners to get curious. I’m sure James would be thrilled to discover that he’s got the best critic of Laura Howard’s performance he could ever have sitting right next to him.’

      Stephanie drew in a sharply painful breath at the cruelty of his comment. Never once before had Jake exhibited anything other than patience and consideration. Not since that night when he had taken her home to his flat, when he had washed her lacerated skin and talked to her in that soft comforting voice that had calmed her panic and fears, coaxing her to give him all the details of her attack, had he talked about what had happened to her. Oh, he had tried on several occasions, less frequently now, because on each occasion she had shied away from the subject, reacting with such emotional pain and distress that he had let it drop.

      ‘Jake, please, I can’t sit here and watch this…’ she pleaded in anguish. ‘Please…’

      ‘Stephanie, it’s been close on two years,’ he said quietly, ‘and it’s not getting any better If anything, it’s getting worse.’

      ‘No!’

      ‘No? Then tell me how many men you’ve dated in the last two years, and how many of them have you allowed to kiss or touch you? I can tell you how many,’ he said quietly when she sat frozen, unable to respond, ‘None. Don’t you think I know, Steph? I’ve only got to watch the way you recoil from me if I so much as brush against you accidentally. I practically have to chart a course across my office so that I keep out of your prescribed boundaries. Look, I know what happened to you…’

      ‘Nothing happened to me,’ she bit out the words sharply. On her lap her hands were folded into small fists, her nails biting into her palms. That Jake of all people should turn on her like this, and so unexpectedly. She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t endure the pain ripping through her, pain like none she had ever known.

      ‘You were almost raped,’ Jake reminded her, ‘violated in the most brutal and unforgivable way by a gang of youths who had deliberately lain in wait for you, and attacked you and you would have been raped if I hadn’t happened to hear you scream.’ He broke off when she covered her ears, her voice strained and almost unrecognisable as her tortured throat managed to admit a husky, ‘No… no, you promised we would never have to talk about it… Jake…’

      ‘Hey you two, aren’t you interested in the film?’ James Tavener’s voice interrupted them, and Stephanie sank back into her seat, refusing to turn her face in Jake’s direction, her whole body trembling with reaction. Even now, she couldn’t believe what had happened. That Jake… She tried to keep her attention on the screen, but in her emotional state that was even worse. With morbid fascination, she watched Laura Howard enact what was almost a replay of what had happened to her, only her attackers had been a group of youths who caught the same bus home as her at night. Most evenings, they made comments as they waited for the bus, called out remarks, and generally tormented Stephanie with their presence, which was always faintly sexually threatening. And then, one night, she had worked late, and when she had emerged into the alleyway at the back of the office, they had been waiting for her. It had been December, and bitterly cold. She had been wearing boots and a thick coat which, she thought later, had helped to save her. How they had found out where she worked, she had never discovered, although Jake suspected that they must have followed her.

      She had barely had time to do anything more than scream once before they attacked her. Even now, she had nightmares about those moments before Jake had arrived, alerted by her single scream. If he hadn’t been on the way downstairs… if she hadn’t screamed right at that moment… Their hands had seemed to be everywhere, tearing at her clothes, their obscene words and laughter almost as bad as their physical violation.

      Jake’s unexpected appearance had given him an advantage over them, and he had soon dispersed them, but not before Stephanie had been almost stunned by a vicious slap across her face, her blouse and bra ripped in huge rents which revealed her breasts, long vicious weals along her arm where she had fought to prevent them pulling off her coat. But the worst of it had been her own memories vividly replayed over and over again as Jake bundled her into his car and drove her to his apartment. She had been almost incoherent with shock and fright, retreating like a terrified animal when he tried to come near her. In the end she had fainted through sheer terror, unable to recognise friend from foe, only knowing that the hands that touched her were male and that the scent reaching her nostrils was masculine and therefore to be feared.

      When she came round, she was in Jake’s bathroom. She had never been in his apartment before and was in no condition to appreciate the masculine decor of marble and gold, and she had shuddered convulsively away from the touch of Jake’s fingers, only to discover that he had removed her torn clothes and she was wearing only her bra and panties.

      ‘Stephanie, you’re quite safe. I just want to clean those cuts. Then I’m going to give you a glass of brandy, and put you to bed in my spare bedroom. If you like, I’ll call a doctor for you… and tomorrow we can call the police.’

      ‘No… No police,’ she had made the plea in abject terror. There had been so much adverse publicity about the police’s handling of rape cases that she felt she couldn’t endure the humiliation she had read of other women’s suffering.

      ‘Stephanie…’

      ‘No… please…’

      In the end, he had given way, and she had remained in his flat not for one night but for three, terrified by every single alien sound, her nervous system totally destroyed. Jake stayed with her, and on the third day he had made her talk; had made her re-live the trauma of her attack. She had cried and protested, hating him for what he was doing to her, and he had held her in his arms, soothing her, stroking her like a child… Stephanie frowned. This was the first time she

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