you can stop worrying,’ Phyllis said from the kitchen doorway. ‘I went to see the doctor today and there’s nothing much wrong with me. He said I’m tired because I’m anaemic, that’s all. The pills he prescribed will soon sort me out.’
Amy smiled, happy that her dad had forgiven her, and happier still to hear that her mum was going to be all right. She looked at her now and puzzled, said, ‘I can’t believe the pills have worked that quickly, but you look so much better already.’
‘Yeah, well, I haven’t got Winnie to look after so I had a little nap this afternoon and it made all the difference. Now dinner’s ready, so change your clothes and I’ll
dish up.’
Amy ran up to her room. She had been fretting all day, but Carol was right, she’d soon been forgiven for her outburst. She hoped her friend would enjoy her date that evening, especially as she’d had to listen to her going on and on all week about Roy taking her out to dinner, along with the fact that he had a car.
It might be nice to have a boyfriend with a car,
Amy thought, but it didn’t matter to her that Tommy didn’t have one. She’d be seeing him later and once changed, she ran back downstairs, smiling happily at the thought.
Carol had previously told her mum that she didn’t want any dinner and after calling a quick hello, she went upstairs to get ready. She was meeting Roy at eight and wanted to make sure she looked perfect.
It was seven thirty before Carol was satisfied with her appearance, leaving her only half an hour to get to Arding & Hobbs. She hurried downstairs and into the living room, saying, ‘I’m off. See you later.’
‘Hold on, my girl,’ her dad called. ‘Your mum told me you’re going out to dinner with some bloke, but I want to know a bit more than that. Who is he? Is he a local, and where is he taking you?’
‘Dad, if I don’t leave now I’ll be late.’
‘You’re going nowhere until you answer my questions.’
Carol could have screamed with frustration, but she knew she’d never get out of the door until she appeased her dad. ‘His name is Roy, he’s a shop fitter, doing up a place across the road from where I work. I’m not sure what restaurant he’s taking me to, but I promise I won’t be late home. Please, Dad, can I go now?’
He pursed his lips, but at last said, ‘Yeah, I suppose so.’
‘Thanks, Dad. Bye, Mum,’ Carol said and grabbing her coat she dashed out, unable to run in heels as she hurried up the Rise and onto Lavender Hill. Thankfully she saw a bus coming and just managed to hop onto it, flopping down on the nearest seat to catch her breath. It was only a couple of stops to Clapham Junction, but it gave her enough time to compose herself. She got off, and was soon approaching the department store, disappointed to find that Roy wasn’t there yet.
Carol hated standing around, but within minutes she heard a car horn and as he drew into the kerb, Roy leaned over to open the door, saying, ‘Hop in.’
Carol was impressed. It was a big, black car, a saloon, though she had no idea what make it was. ‘Hello,’ she said, climbing in.
‘You look nice,’ he said.
‘Thanks,’ she replied, liking the compliment as they drove off, especially as he had yet to see her dress.
‘Carol, I’m afraid I’ve come out without my wallet.’
‘Oh,’ was all she managed, hoping that Roy didn’t expect her to pay for dinner.
‘Not to worry. I’ve booked a table for eight thirty and as the restaurant isn’t far from where I live it’ll give me plenty of time to pop in and get it.’
‘That’s good,’ she said, relaxing now and enjoying the drive. She glanced at Roy, thinking that he looked nice too in a dark blue suit and tie. They continued to chat easily, finding that they shared the same taste in music, and Carol hardly took note of the journey as she continued to glance at Roy, thinking that he was a real catch.
It was some time later when Roy turned into a side street in Tooting and pulled up outside a terraced house. ‘I’ll just get my wallet,’ he said. ‘It won’t take long, but you’re welcome to come in for a minute. I could do with a woman’s view on my new decor.’
Curious to see his flat, and flattered that he wanted her opinion, Carol said, ‘Yes, all right.’
As soon as Roy opened the door, she could see that the house had been divided into two flats, and she followed him upstairs. He used a Yale key to open a door at the top of the stairs, and she saw a tiny hall before they went into a room that wasn’t a bad size, though part of it was screened off to serve as a kitchenette. The decor in her opinion was awful, in various shades of brown, the carpet old and feeling sticky beneath her feet. Not only that, there was a stale smell of tobacco, mingled with cooking fat.
‘Well, what do you think?’ Roy asked.
‘Err … err …’ Carol hesitated.
‘It’s all right, I can see by your face what you think,’ he said, chuckling, ‘but I haven’t done anything with this room yet. My wallet’s next door so come and see that.’
He led her back to the tiny landing, and flinging open another door, she stepped inside to find herself in a bedroom. She barely had time to notice the equally bad decor before Roy pulled her into his arms. For a moment Carol froze, but then feeling a frisson of fear she tried to push him away. ‘Stop it, Roy.’
‘Come on,’ he husked, tightening his hold, ‘don’t bother playing hard to get. As soon as you agreed to come in, we both knew what was going to happen.’
‘No, no,’ she protested. ‘I just came to look at your flat.’
‘It isn’t mine, but as my mate was good enough to leave it clear for us, we might as well make the most of it.’
As Roy tried to kiss her, Carol turned her head away, struggling against his arms. ‘Let go of me!’
Powerless against his strength, Carol found herself thrown on the bed with Roy holding both her wrists above her head with one hand, while he frenziedly used the other to lift up her clothes. She tried to fight him off, kicked out with her legs, but he pinned her down. What happened next made Carol cry out in pain and distress, but Roy ignored her frantic cries for him to stop.
When at last it was over, Carol was left sobbing,
while Roy looked at her dispassionately and said, ‘Act your age, you daft mare. I don’t know what all this fuss is about.’
Anger rose then to almost choke her, her voice a croak as she said, ‘You’re not getting away with this. I … I’m going to tell the police that you raped me.’
Roy’s eyes narrowed, but then his smile was mocking. ‘Go on then, but when I tell them my version of the story, who do you think they’ll believe?’
‘What … what do you mean?’
‘Think about it. You’re twenty-three, an adult, and they’re not going to see you as an innocent when only
