I nodded again, words seemed to have escaped me.
“He must have watched you arrive together. Missed the opportunity to grab her then and waited for another night for her to appear at the same club. He couldn’t get near you, I had turned up. Though.... You didn’t see him.” Jason paused to think. “There’s no evidence of him being at the club. Check that,” he said to Martinson.
“I’ll get the club to go over their CCTV. The police may already have the film,” said Martinson.
I remembered something.
“Trudy left Wednesday night with someone else, another man. She would have been safe while she was with him,” I whispered. My throat was hoarse. “What’s the bastard done to her?” I glanced at Martinson sensing he knew more than he was saying.
We arrived at the hospital and Jason took my arm guiding me through the corridors, asking questions until we were outside the intensive care unit. There were police officers standing around in the corridor. I recognised Trudy’s mum sitting in the waiting room. Trudy’s dad had passed away many years back.
“Gemma, I’m so pleased you came,” she said as I took her hand.
“Mrs Belling. I’m so sorry I came as soon as I heard.”
I swallowed hard. Her face crumpled and she squeezed my hand. I glanced behind me, looking through the doors to the corridor, to where I saw Jason talking to the police. He was holding my mobile phone and showing them the message. The police kept looking from the phone and then back to me. I could not hear what they were saying.
“Oh, Gemma. I don’t know what to do. He beat her badly, the bastard. Dragged her to an alleyway and then sexually assaulted her.”
The last part of sentence hit me like a freight train. The accumulation of the morning’s events was too much. I crumpled into blackness.
***
“Gemma, Gemma?” Jason’s voice was reaching out to me and then I sensed bright lights.
Too bright. I was lying down. Someone was holding my arm and taking my pulse.
“She’s coming round. You say she’s been exercising this morning? I suspect the shock and lack of food has had a detrimental effect. She’ll be fine once she’s eaten and rested.”
My eyes remained shut. I was not ready to face the situation.
***
Later I opened my eyes again. I was lying on top of a hospital bed in a side room, still dressed with my shoes were off. I searched about with bleary eyes and found Jason on an uncomfortable looking plastic chair, watching me intently. It reminded me of how he stared at me when I stood next to the photocopier, those weeks ago. He reached over and touched my hand.
“OK, babe?” he rubbed a finger along my arm.
Tears formed, trapped in my eyelashes.
No! I was not all right, my best friend had been attacked and I felt responsible as if I could have stopped it. I could not say these words. They stayed bottle up inside me. Jason sat on the bed beside me and embraced me. We did not say anything. I was just relieved he was with me.
They would not let me see Trudy. I was too distressed and she had been sedated while she recovered from severe concussion. I hoped she would not remember what happened to her. Jason insisted I ate something before he took me home. I nibbled on a ghastly hospital sandwich while trying not to throw up.
Leaning on his arm, he took me back to the waiting car and home to Piedmont. He practically had to carry me into the house. Curling up on the sofa, I felt unusually fatigued and Jason went to make me a drink. I could hear him talking to someone in the kitchen and I assumed it was the elusive Mr Brooks. Jason came back with a steaming hot chocolate and blanket, which he put over me. I sip
ped the sweet drink, while he watched me from the other sofa. Then I lay back down.
I must have drifted off, because when I woke, Jason was sitting there with laptop and papers, busy working. He smiled at me and his pleasant expression made me feel good. I sat up leaning on one elbow.
“Hi,” I said quietly. My voice was back.
“Hi to you. I contacted the hospital. The news is good. Your friend is out of danger. Conscious, she doesn’t remember much about the past week, never mind Saturday night. Hopefully it will stay that way.” He put his laptop on the coffee table. “Can I get you anything?”
“Perhaps something to eat.” I pushed the blanket to one side. The wobbly legs had gone and my head was clearer.
I followed him into the kitchen and sat at the table. He fished out something from the fridge and put it in the microwave, a pasta dish.
“I’m sorry, I’ve ruined your work day.” I looked at him apologetically.