‘I don’t mind at all,’ I say. ‘I was in an abusive relationship with this guy for two years. He … he raped me.’ Saying it feels like pulling off a pair of pinching shoes at the end of a long day. I’ve hardly told anyone this. Only Megan, Carol, Matt, Katy and the odd badly-chosen romantic dalliance. I’ve not even told my mum. I twist my hands in my lap. ‘He only did it twice though.’
Jenny shakes her head wryly. ‘Oh yes, only been raped the two times. That’s nothing.’
I giggle at the ridiculousness of what I’ve just said. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘Unfortunately I do. We’re so good at diminishing it, aren’t we? When we really shouldn’t.’
‘I’m so sorry that happened to you,’ Hazel says, as I wipe under my eyes. ‘You’ve done the right thing, coming to this class. I was raped too … if you haven’t figured that out by now.’
‘Essentially we all were, in some way, somehow,’ Charlotte says, running a hand through her crop. ‘It’s what links us.’
‘It’s something that links many women,’ Hazel adds, picking up her wine and taking a big slurp. ‘Once I started coming here and talking about it, the more I realised it’s a case of who’s been lucky enough not to have this happen to them rather than the other way around.’
‘Hear, hear!’ Charlotte cheers the air.
I’ve never felt more understood and less alone than I do in this precise moment. The world’s turned clear, like I’ve finally got the right prescription lenses with which to see it. There’s a happy sharpness to this pub. The colours are brighter, the voices louder, my heart softer.
‘Just nipping to the loo,’ I say. ‘Do you mind looking after my bag?’ I squeeze around the table and push through into the toilet which doesn’t have any paper left. It doesn’t matter, I don’t need to pee anyway. I lean over and grip the sink with both hands.
There’s a table of women behind that door and they look normal and they sound normal but, like me, they spend every day applying the same veneer of normal over the huge struggle to get over what shouldn’t have happened to them. The endorphins from the exercise still pump through me. They mingle with this newfound feeling of … belonging. I smile as I stand up and look at myself in the mirror. My face is still red from too much exercise but it glows.
I exude Gretel.
I wave and she waves back at me. ‘We’re going to be late to meet Joshua,’ I tell her.
She shrugs through the reflective glass.
The sky belches an angry rumble of thunder as I drag myself away from the pub. ‘I will so be at the class next week, thank you, thank you.’
I’m scrolling through my phone crammed with new numbers, grinning, when I’m interrupted by the noise. I look up to see the London skyline blanketed in a heavy dark-grey mass. The air has the iron tang of rain – I don’t dare hope.
Gretel’s late but she’s told them she’s on her way and she’s sorry. Josh sends her a photo of the menu so they can get her order in.
Joshua: I’ve had half of your beer xxx
It’s a slightly pass-agg message which is appropriate for my lateness. Luckily I’m glowing with so much post-class joy, I reckon I can charm my way out of it. I fling myself out of the clammy Tube, and up the stairs of Kings Cross, taking the secret shortcut only Londoners know about. I skip up to Granary Square. The sky’s even darker now, practically black. Another attention-seeking clap of thunder shakes the sky and people stop and look up, like we’re at the start of an apocalypse movie. There’s a giant queue to get in to the restaurant and I slink past smugly, skipping the line of people all saying ‘do you think it will rain?’ and staring upwards.
‘Table for Neil?’ I ask at the front desk, checking I’ve got the booking name right on my phone.
‘Up the stairs and to the left.’ The concierge nods the direction and I turn and glide upwards, taking in the instagramness of the restaurant’s interior. It’s kitted out with sleek chequered floors and mahogany tables. Whirring overhead-fans push the flat air around fruitlessly but photogenically. I spot the back of Joshua’s head and my stomach lurches in a swell of unhelpful affection. He’s sitting at a table with three men and two women and hasn’t noticed me yet. He’s talking with his hands, as I’ve learnt he does a lot. I put on a friendly smile and hurry over.
‘Yeah, she works for this sex and relationships charity called We Are Here, it’s really great, though their CMS system sounds like a nightmare …’ He cranes his neck backwards, a big grin right there. ‘And here she is! Gretel, this is everyone. Everyone, this is Gretel.’
I wave at the table widely, trying to make eye contact with each one. ‘It’s so great to meet you,’ I say. ‘I’m so so sorry I’m late. I was at this boxing thing and it ran over.’
‘Boxing thing?’ The man sitting to Joshua’s right is clearly the alpha of this group. I can tell by the way he’s sitting – legs astride. He’s tall, arms crossed, typically good-looking. He must be Neil.
‘Yes and it was in East London so the Tube was a pain. Anyway, hi, I’m Gretel.’
They stand, one by one, to greet me, with an array of handshakes, cheek kisses, and an awkward hug from a slightly pudgy guy at the end of the table. If I’m guessing correctly, this must be Luke, their roommate from uni who’s never had a girlfriend though none of them are sure why. He seems the friendliest. ‘It’s lovely to meet you,’ he says mid-hug and slightly too loudly into my ear. ‘I’ve heard so much about you.’
I raise both eyebrows at Joshua over his shoulder. ‘Is that right?’
‘All good things, all good things,’ Josh reassures me as I sit next to him. He squeezes my hand under the table, and winks, giving me reassurance I don’t need. ‘You OK?’ he whispers.
I can’t pretend I’m not touched by the gesture. ‘I’m fine.’ I kiss the side of his forehead. ‘Sorry again for being late. Hey, is that my beer?’
He hands it over, looking right into my eyes. I point to the half-empty glass. ‘Still half-full,’ I say.
‘I knew you’d be a half-full person.’
I take a knowing sip and brace myself for turning up Gretel’s megawatt charm. I lean over to Alpha Male, knowing he’s the one to impress. The most unlikeable is always the most important to impress. ‘So, tell me everything I need to know about Josh,’ I say. ‘You guys met on your course, right?’
Neil nods and leans over, all the better to show off his biceps with. ‘Yes, we met in Freshers’ Week and were in the same halls.’
‘So, who here went to Leeds then?’
He points them out. ‘Me and Lucy and Luke.’ The table listens in now their names have been mentioned.
‘And the rest of you know each other …?’ Gretel asks, so, so interested.
‘I’m Lucy’s husband,’ says a tall man sitting next to her called George.
‘And I’m Julia, Neil’s wife,’ the remaining woman says, who is very done up for a curry. She’s wearing false eyelashes and her hair is perfectly curled. She squeezes Neil’s arm and he sort of shrugs her off while also smiling.