Page 71 of Forever Mr Black

“Stop it!” I cry. “This isn’t a game. Theo’s suddenly turned back up in my life after three years. He’s troubled, Tara. He said he’s had help for his problems, but I’m not sure whether he has. I don’t think he’s as well as he thinks he is.”

She inspects the pink fingernails of her right hand, bored with listening to me. “I couldn’t give a shit about what went on between the two of you. All I know is that he’s very generous with his cash even if he is shit in bed.”

She’s not listening.

“Theo’s not well, Tara. He can be … volatile,” I warn.

“Volatile?” She cackles in disbelief. “He’s a fucking accountant. How volatile could he possibly be?”

“He raped me.”

Silence fills the room.

The evil smile dissolves from Tara’s face as she looks from me to Art in stunned silence, like she can’t quite believe it.

“That’s enough.” He holds my hand. “We’re leaving. Tara, I’m sorry for misleading you, but as you’ve heard, there’s an important reason for it. I’m in love with Sophie”—he squeezes my hand—"and I’m going to do all I can to protect her.”

By the time I return to the car, I’m deflated and more confused than ever. All the planning that went into tonight, and we’ve nothing to show for it. Back to the drawing board.

I stare out the window, my mind running through what happened this evening.

Art pushes his head back into the headrest. “Are you okay?”

I watch the first drops of rain splatter against the window and realise something important. “That’s the first time I’ve said it out loud,” I say quietly. “That’s the first time I’ve said what he did … that he raped me.”

Warm fingers link through mine, and I look down at them in my lap.

“I’ve never been able to bring myself to say it before. It’s silly, isn’t it?”

Art’s watching me carefully. “Not at all. You loved and trusted him, and he broke that trust in the worst way imaginable. You’re not going to get over something like that quickly. And you carried it all around inside you for years.” He fixes me with a firm look. “All the bad things he said and did to you, it was all down to him and his fucked up issues, which he took out on you. It wasn’t any reflection on you; it wasn’t your fault. You know that, don’t you?”

I turn back to the window. “At first, I didn’t. I kept thinking it was something I was doing to make him do what he did to me, and he just reinforced it by telling me everything was my fault. It took me a while, but I now know it wasn’t me; it was him.”

Art’s love has helped shatter any misconception or screwed-up thoughts I had about myself, thoughts that were still hanging about in my head from my relationship with Theo. And tonight, I’m tired of giving him headspace.

I shake my head. “Let’ not talk about him anymore. We need to figure out who’s behind this stuff. If it’s not Tara, who is it?”

Art raps his fingers against the steering wheel in frustration. “I’ve no fucking clue, but I’m going to find out.” He looks at me. “I know tonight probably raked up a whole load of shit for you, but are you okay with the stuff that was said and done back there?”

“I’m fine.” I give him a sideways glance and stifle a smile. “Although I wasn’t sure about all of that equipment in the room. Or being locked in the cupboard of horror.”

He chuckles softly. “Some people get off, using that stuff.”

“Have you ever?

“No. Most of it’s too extreme.”

“You said you’d think about it,” I throw, deciding to strike when he least expects it.

“Think about what?”

“About me being in control in the bedroom for a change.”

His frown tells me he’s still not sold on the idea. “Hmm. Control isn’t something I relinquish easily.”

That’s an understatement.

“How about if ever?”

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