It was the first time I had been to America. Despite my manytravels around Europe with the company, I hadn’t been any further afield; wewere strictly a European operation. So this was the first time I had movedsignificantly outside my time zone, which threw up an interesting anomaly.
I had long ago realised that my 3am time jump was fixed atthat time throughout the year and altered along with the clocks.
So during the summer months when Greenwich Mean Time wasreplaced by British Summer Time, my jump would change to 4am. The vast majorityof the time I didn’t notice, but when I arrived in Florida, I certainly did.
The clocks hadn’t gone forward yet in the UK so I was stilljumping back at 3am at home. It had slipped my mind to consider the timedifference, so I was taken completely unawares what happened on the day Iarrived.
On the last day, rather than waking up in a hotel room as Iwas expecting, I found myself materialising fully awake in the middle of arestaurant somewhere in the Tampa Bay area. I was sitting at a table for threewith Sarah and Stacey. A young waitress was standing over us, mid-order.
“What about you, Dad?” asked Stacey.
“Uh, yeah,” I mumbled, bluffing as I frequently had to.“I’ll have the same.”
“So that’s three hot fudge sundaes, then,” said Sarah.“That’s not like you. You normally ask for an Irish coffee.”
“Oh, yes, I’ll have one of those, too,” I quickly added.
“Greedy!” said Sarah. “You’ll be putting on weight.”
“Well, I am on holiday,” I replied.
The five hour difference meant that for the first time in mylife, I actually had the novelty of going to bed that night and waking up onthe actual next day. I then had to go through the usual hassle of flying allthe way back to the UK before I could start my holiday properly.
After that it was fun all the way. In the daytime we visitedthe best theme parks Florida had to offer, and in the evening we had the mostgorgeous and very generously portioned meals. The steaks were fantastic, biggerand better than anything I’d had back home. I made sure we dined as early aspossible.
The last thing I wanted to do was to be just starting totuck into a nice juicy steak, only to vanish back in time to the previous day.
One day I managed to get us to Tampa Bay Races to enjoy somehorse racing US style. With the previous days’ racing results committed tomemory, we were able to pull off some spectacular long odds bets on the exoticwagering available at the track.
Exactas, Trifectas and even Superfectas (selecting the firstfour horses in correct order) were easy pickings, and we ate and drankextremely well that night.
Around midway through the holidays I finally got the chanceto find out what had been nagging at my mind for so long: the truth about whathad happened to Stacey.
It was late at night and Sarah and I were talking in bedafter getting intimate. Cuddled up in the afterglow, she said, “You know I’m soglad we brought Stacey out here. It’s the first time I’ve seen her really happysince what happened last summer.”
Seizing my opportunity, I asked, “Do you think there’sanything we could have done to make things turn out differently?”
It was a bit of a vague question, but it got Sarah to open up.“I really don’t know,” she said. “How could we have known? I’ve been over it inmy mind a thousand times.”
“Let’s go over it again,” I said.
“Must we?” she asked. “We’re having such a nice time on thisholiday. I really don’t want to drag it all up again. Please, can’t we justforget about it?”
“Just this once,” I said, adding, “I need closure”, whichwas a bullshit phrase I’d heard on some soap opera that seemed to fit themoment. “Then I promise we’ll never mention it again.”
And so, Sarah opened up and we went over the details, mecarefully asking her leading questions to get the whole story without it beingtoo obvious I knew nothing about it.
By the end of the conversation, I knew it all. I washorrified, distressed and angry in equal measures. What had been done to mylittle girl was enough to make me want blood. I’m sure any father would havefelt the same.
In July 2015, Stacey’s school had thrown an end-of-term promfor the Year 11 students in celebration of them finishing their GCSEs.
During the evening, Stacey had been the subject of someover-amorous attentions from one of the boys in her class. Liam was the captainof the school football team, popular, good-looking and with no shortage offemale attention.
Unknown to Stacey at the time, he had already slept withfour girls in her year, and had openly bragged that he planned to shag themall. She knew none of this so was delighted when he asked her to be his datefor the prom.
Stacey was flattered by his attentions, but she was still avirgin at the time and not ready for any sort of sexual relationship. Late inthe evening, he’d suggested taking a walk onto the school field. Naivelyperhaps, she had followed, expecting a little kissing but nothing more.
Unfortunately, Liam was used to getting what he wanted, andhe was expecting a lot more than she was willing to give. When Stacey hadresisted, he had raped her behind the cricket pavilion.
She had been so traumatised by the event that she had gonestraight home and washed away the evidence, telling no one what had happened.She had been miserable and withdrawn for weeks, but refused to say what waswrong, even to her mother.
Eventually, in September, she’d turned to Sarah in tearsafter discovering she was pregnant. The two of them had hidden it from meinitially, but it all came out after she had an abortion and I had forced itout of Sarah, knowing something was
