It was a Saturday night. I’d been there for ages, over a week. It was working out. Cookie was on lates that night – the place where he works stays open till about twelve on a Friday and Saturday. I was looking forward to it. A night on me own, in front of the telly. I had a bath, a good old soak, found myself a film, settled down … there’s a key in the door. Well, who’s that? Only bloody Jez and a couple of his mates.
‘Cookie’s out,’ I told them.
‘Is he? We bought some booze and stuff,’ said Jez.
‘No, he’s not here. I was going to have a night in.’
‘He won’t mind,’ said Jez. In they all came. I could have cried. They knew bloody well he wasn’t there. Spending the night with Jez and his creepy mates was the last thing I wanted, but there was nothing I could do about it. We all knew, if I rang Cookie and asked him, he’d back Jez up. He always does. Cookie gave him a key ages ago. He doesn’t even live here, what’s he got a key for? It’s stupid. He just does whatever Jez tells him. It drives me mental.
There were three or four of them – Jez, this lad called Staffs, and a couple of others. There was nothing for it. They were going to be there all night now. They’d wait up for Cookie until he got back and then he’d want some. I was going to be up all night out of my head with a bunch of losers.
I went on the voddie and orange, but I was taking it easy. I didn’t want to lose it with this lot around. It tasted a bit strong so I sneaked out and poured a bit away and watered it down. Then, a bit later, I put the glass on a stack of CDs and spilt it all down the CDs. Cookie would have gone bonkers – he loves his music – so I wiped it up with my sleeve and went into the kitchen to get another without telling anyone. I’d only had about half.
And then, then I was on my way back into the front room, and I was staggering. You know? Like, out of it already. I was thinking, What’s up with me? I hadn’t had anything, just half of one voddie, so what was I doing staggering?
‘I’m going already,’ I said to Staffs, who was behind me.
‘Aye, he mixes them strong, Jez,’ said Staffs, and he gave me this look, this funny look.
We sat around listening to music and talking a bit. I remember getting up to look for a CD and the way they all laughed when I lurched across the room. I was falling down. I went back to park myself on the sofa, but … I hadn’t even finished one drink. How could I be so drunk already?
Then it went blurry. I was on the sofa snogging Jez. I don’t know how it happened. Then suddenly it wasn’t Jez, it was Staffs, and then he was feeling me up. And someone was fiddling with my top and trying to get their hand down my pants, and …
I sat up and pushed them off and I was thinking, This is wrong. I don’t do that. I’m with Cookie. I might be rubbish, but I’m not getting shared out like a pack of jelly beans. And I’d only drunk a little bit … and all the other blokes were in the room as well, watching it …
I started to panic then, because I was so out of it there was nothing I could do. That’s how it felt – like there was nothing I could do about it. I got up and went to the loo, not that I needed to go, but I wanted some head space. I got in there and splashed some water on my face, trying to wake up. I was so out of it. I sat down, and I was thinking, This is wrong, this is all wrong, I’m not that drunk, I can’t be.
And of course, at the back of my head, I knew what it was already. I’d been spiked, hadn’t I? I’d been spiked, and that shit Jez and his useless mates were going to take turns with me.
I was the night’s entertainment.
I was thinking, This can’t be true, this can’t be happening to me. This isn’t how you get raped. You get held down and you shout and you scream, and you fight. You get beat up. You don’t just lie back on the settee and watch it happen to you. You don’t go to bed and forget about it overnight.
Sod this.
I stood up, tried the window. It was open, but I couldn’t climb out. I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t get my leg up high enough. I kept falling down. I staggered out of the loo and into the passage, trying to keep quiet. The living-room door was closed and there was music and laughter going on in there, but I still had enough sense not to go down the hall in case I banged about and they heard me. I turned round and went into the kitchen at the back. Back door, locked. I didn’t realize at first. I just tugged, then I wasted more time trying to find the key, but it was a bolt all the time. Then I wasted more time fumbling with that …
The bastard, he must have been watching me for ages. I’d just eased the door open when an arm shot out and banged it shut.
Jez.
‘Not leaving the party, Billie?’ he said.
‘I wanna go,’ I said, trying to push him out of the way.
‘Not yet,’ he told me. He flicked the bolt back across. I watched stupidly. I just couldn’t move at any speed at all. Then he took my arm and started to lead me back into the living room. My feet just patted along like a good girl doing as she was told. And the thing was I almost didn’t care. Almost. I almost could have let him lead me back into the living room so I could get raped. Who knows – I might not even remember it, so who cared …
But I did care. I wedged my arms against the living-room door.
‘Kitchen,’ I muttered. ‘Left it in there …’
‘What?’ he asked.
‘… Moment …’ I said, and pushed my way back. And the bastard, he let me get all the way to the back door, and he let me faff around and undo the bolt and start to open it again before he came up behind. I heard him coming, I tried to hurry, but I couldn’t.
Then he jammed his hand down on the door and shut it hard again.
I turned to look up at him. And he looked at me and I looked at him. And he knew. He knew I knew and I knew he knew.
‘Didn’t finish your drink, did you?’ he asked me.
‘… Spiked me drink,’ I said.
He shook his head. As if. He’d never admit it. He was too much of a coward. We stood there looking at each other a moment. Behind us there was a bell at the front door. He glanced over his shoulder at it.
‘Couple more mates,’ he told me, and he raised his eyebrow and winked.
‘No,’ I said. ‘Don’t,’ I said. ‘Please don’t, Jez.’
He shook his head again. He stood back. ‘Come on, love. It’s OK.’
‘It’s not OK!’
He shook his head again. ‘Come on, Billie,’ he said. ‘You never minded before …’
‘I never knew before,’ I said, but even as I was speaking I thought, Before? This has happened before?
Jez was watching me, smiling. He nodded. ‘You liked it, Billie. You loved it. I watched you. I watched you enjoying it all night.’
I was trying to think … It was Rohypnol or something, wasn’t it? Date rape. You don’t know, you don’t even remember it the next day. And he was saying it had happened before?
‘You lying bastard,’ I said. ‘I don’t believe you. I’d know. I’d’ve been sick for days just from touching you. Now let me go …’
I tried to push him away, but he just stood there. I was so weak I could hardly move myself, let alone him.
‘What about Cookie? He’s supposed to be your mate,’ I said.
Jez sort of looked to one side and shook his head. ‘Cookie don’t mind, Billie. He don’t mind sharing his things with his mates.’
‘I’m not his thing …’
I tried to push him out of the way, but his arm on the door was like a tree – I couldn’t budge it.
‘Cookie wouldn’t do this to me,’ I said, and I started to cry.
‘Never mind Cookie.’
Staffs had got to the front door by this time and let them in. Voices in the hall. Music. It all sounded underwater, but sort of normal. But it wasn’t normal. It was way off being normal. I turned back to the door, but there was his arm, leaning down hard.
Jez bent down close to me. ‘Think you’re so tough, don’t you?’ he said. ‘But you’re not at the moment, are you, Billie? Not tough at all.’ He shook his head. Then he smiled. ‘Anyways, you might as well. Have another drink. You won’t remember it. I’ll keep an eye on things, make sure no one’s too rough. Come on. Be a sport, Billie. What’s wrong with you, love?’ He took his arm out of the way and nodded at the door.
I stayed where I was.
‘Money,’ I said.
Jez rolled his eyes. Like, you know – why should I pay when I can get it for free?
‘How much?’ he asked. He put his hand to his pocket and leaned back.
I knew I was only going to get one go at it. I was lining him up, trying not to look at his crotch, taking my time, lining it up. I waited until he glanced down at his hand – then I launched my foot like a rocket.
It was perfect. He sank down without a noise like a sheet of wet newspaper. I turned round. It was all in slow motion. I fumbled at the door. It was just a bolt, but I couldn’t get it. I could hear the other lads coming down the hall. He must have made more noise than I thought. Then I realized why it wasn’t working – it was already open. He’d just slammed it shut. I yanked the door open, tumbled into the yard and slammed it behind me. Ran across the yard. Crawled on to a wall between his and his neighbour’s yard. The door opened and they all burst out.
I lay on the wall for a moment. I looked at them; they looked at me. Then I rolled over and fell down hard to the ground on the other side. It was all I could do. Then I just lay there and waited.
‘Shit,’ someone said.
There was a pause. ‘Bloody hell, Jez, now what?’ someone said. I guess they didn’t know that I’d actually collapsed into a heap on the other side of the wall. Or they were worried about what the neighbours would think if they got caught dragging a half-conscious girl doped up on Rohypnol about. Either way, they stood about, muttering and complaining … then they went back in and closed the door behind them.
I waited a little bit in case one of them had stayed outside. Then I got up and clambered around the yard, banging about. I heard someone inside – an old lady, I think, calling out, ‘Who’s that?’
I took no notice. I got out over her wall, then another. I didn’t want to get out into the alley behind the house in case they were waiting there for me. I got into another yard and waited there, just hid and waited there for hours. It felt like hours. Then I got out into the road. I staggered off till I found a hedge. I collapsed under the hedge. Closed my eyes. And passed out.