“He knew your name. He said to tell you he didn't know what he was doing.”
Alice nodded. “I don’t know what to say. Or what to feel.”
Lucas shook his head. “You could go to the police. But convictions for rape in Denmark are rare.”
“Damn right,” Connie said. “Far too rare. And sentences are too low, almost biblical in their misogyny. Even if you get convicted, righteous men might let you away with paying 50 shekels, or whatever that is in Krone.”
“Not so sure about that, Connie,” Lucas said.
Alice looked at Connie with a puzzled expression.
“Sorry guys,” Connie said. “A Biblical reference. I didn't mean to interrupt. Alice? What do you think about the police?”
Alice shook her head. “It’s been 12 years. That’s too long. The police won’t do anything.”
“You’re right,” Lucas said. He waved his phone in the air. “Even with the recording I made of his regret.”
Alice pointed to his phone. “With that I could probably ruin his family life, cost him his job. Make him suffer like me.” She looked around at the others. A silence fell, and no-one met her eyes.
“I see,” Alice said. “You think that would make me the bad person?”
“It might be best to leave it, Alice,” Connie said. “Closure?”
“I suppose.” Alice folded her arms and turned to Lucas. “But maybe you could send me the recording, Lucas? I’d like to listen to the fear in his voice. Perhaps that will be enough.”
“Sure. Give me your number and I’ll do it now.”
“Thanks Lucas,” Alice said. “It feels like... like it’s over, I guess.”
Connie stood. “Great. Let’s get dinner started. I’ll open the wine.”
Then Alice’s phone beeped several times. She looked up at Lucas, and he put his finger to his lips. He leaned in and whispered, “I sent two mobile numbers. One belongs to his boss, the other to his wife.”
Alice smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”
In the bathroom, Alice locked the door behind her. She leaned against the wall and stared at the phone. Several minutes passed before she came to her decision. She neither wanted to hear his voice nor accept his apology. It was too late for that.
She checked the Danish SIM card was installed in her phone and prepared to send the sound file to both numbers. A knock on the door interrupted her. “Alice?” It was Connie. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. Fine. I’ll be out in a minute. Girl stuff.”
“Oh sorry.” After the footsteps receded, Alice stared at the screen. “Fuck you too, Thorsten Pederson,” she whispered. Her steady finger pressed send without another thought.
After she sent the files, she removed the Danish SIM from the phone and replaced it with her UK one. Tomorrow, she’d buy another local SIM. She snapped the Danish SIM in two, wrapped it in tissue and threw it in the toilet, then she deleted all traces of what she’d done from her phone.
As she flushed the cistern, the small cubist style painting on the wall caught her eye. She studied it for a moment, searching for the meaning. When she thought she figured it out, she smiled to herself. For their new place in London, she’d buy another Marquez photograph. Perhaps the companion piece she saw in the gallery? The one with the broken chains? Yes. That would work.
Acknowledgements
The debt of gratitude I owe to my wonderful wife, Sinead, is immense. Without your support and encouragement, I doubt that I would have persevered to complete the journey and write these words. For the freedom to take the time out when I needed it most, I thank you. And for the understanding you showed when I thought I was banging my head against a very hard wall, thanks for cushioning the blows. My head no longer hurts.
To my family for reading early drafts and telling me to continue, my father Frank, brothers John, David, Colm, Peter and Stephen, thanks guys. I would thank my mother, Pat, too, but unfortunately, she’s no longer with us, however, I know she would have offered her encouragement, support and love without question.
Thanks also to my friends, in particular Lanny, Carol and Fran. Your feedback was much appreciated. As was your patience and forbearance with drafts that were in hindsight, too raw and too early for release. I promise never to do that again.
The professional input from my editor, Brian Langan, was invaluable. Without Brian’s insight and advice, this book would be so much poorer. Thank you, Brian.
Thanks to Sue in Anam Cara Writer’s & Artist’s Retreat way down in the Bearra Peninsula in far West Cork where I spent days in splendid productivity bashing out thousands of words.
Finally, I would like to thank the Irish Writers Centre in Dublin for the courses and education on offer. Further, it is difficult to stress the importance of the encouragement and boost I got when the manuscript was highly commended in the Novel Fair 2019.
Thank you for reading this novel and I hope you enjoyed it. If you did enjoy the story, could you please leave a five-star review for me on Amazon? It makes a big difference. I would be very grateful for your support.
Best,
Lenny
