Follow Me Down by Tanya Byrne

it’s not that I didn’t believe her, but I expected Ostley’s deviancy to stray as far as wife-swapping parties or cheating at the church Christmas cake bake-off, I didn’t expect this . This was the sort of thing that would make me think twice the next time I snuck out of Burnham. The sort of thing that made me close my window. And it’s kind of funny, that I felt that here. Not in Lagos, or New York – sitting in an empty carriage on the 6 Train at one in the morning – but in a tiny village in Wiltshire. A village where Scarlett and I ordered red wine at the pub one Sunday afternoon and Mrs Delaney knew about it by the time I got back to Burnham.
    I glanced at my copy of The Times on the desk next to my laptop and wondered if Chloe would ever be brave enough to report what had happended. I wished she would because, until she did, he was out there. That’s why I find newspapers so comforting, I think. Comforting is the wrong word to use when reading stories about murderers and paedophiles, but I guess I like my monsters where I can see them, held to paper, with ink, in Times New Roman.
    So I went back to my laptop and typed up what I knew. It wasn’t much, but dealing with the facts made it easier. It didn’t make me feel better, but the words on my screen didn’t seem as black, either. Then I called Chloe. When she answered, she sounded as though she was at Balogun Market and for the second time that day, I missed home.
    ‘Hey, Adamma! How’s it going?’ she shouted over the din.
    ‘Celebrating your win?’
    There was a sudden roar through the phone and I jumped.
    ‘Sorry,’ Chloe howled. ‘Lauren just walked into a tree!’
    ‘Where are you?’
    ‘Savernake Forest.’
    My nerves twitched. ‘You’re in Savernake Forest?’
    ‘Yeah? Why?’
    ‘I . . . I just—’
    ‘Oh God,’ she interrupted with a groan. ‘Is this about that rumour?’
    My heart started to beat too hard. ‘Rumour?’
    ‘Please tell me that’s not why you called, Adamma?’
    ‘No. I guess. It’s just that I heard—’
    She wouldn’t let me finish. ‘Who told you? Molly Avery?’
    ‘Of course not. Molly’s too busy trying to find out if I’m shagging Dominic Sim.’
    I heard a rustle and when the sound of the music began to fade, I realised that she was walking away from the party. ‘Who told you, then? Was it Scarlett?’
    ‘Does it matter, Chloe?’
    ‘So everyone’s talking about it?’ When I didn’t respond, she let out a long sigh. ‘I’m going to start wearing a I WASN’T RAPED T-SHIRT.’
    ‘You weren’t?’
    ‘No,’ she said so sharply that it made my cheeks burn. I hope she didn’t think I sounded disappointed. ‘Nothing happened. I was walking out of Savernake Forest after the party when some pervert stopped and tried to get me into his car. I told him to get stuffed and that was it.’
    ‘That was it?’
    ‘Yes! I don’t know how that turned into me being raped.’
    ‘Did you see what the guy looked like?’
    ‘No. When he pulled up next to me, I didn’t look, I just ran.’
    ‘I probably would have, too,’ I admitted, stopping to chew on the lid of my pen. ‘Did you see his licence plate?’ She scoffed. ‘Not even part of it? A letter? A number?’
    ‘You know what the forest is like, it was so dark. I couldn’t see a thing.’
    ‘Did you see what his car looked like?’
    ‘Adamma,’ she sighed, clearly weary of the interrogation. ‘I didn’t see a thing. It was dark and I was shitfaced . Just before he stopped, I was sick in a bush.’
    ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, covering my eyes with the back of my hand. ‘I shouldn’t be grilling you. I just hate the thought of this guy driving around, looking for girls.’
    ‘You’re not going to put it in the Disraeli , are you?’
    I was mortified. ‘Of course I won’t.’
    The line was quiet for a moment or two, and I could hear the party in the distance. I almost recognised the song that was playing and strained to make out