Page 70 of The Elements

“Who knows? But they’ll be obliged to investigate it. I told my best friend at the time. And we’ve talked about it on and off over the years. He’s willing to give evidence. I think you know him, actually.”

“How would I know your best friend?” I ask, utterly baffled by this.

“And I can’t have been the only person you did it to, can I? There must be others. I assume the police have some way of exploring that. Once they start, who knows how many will come out of the woodwork.”

“You have no idea what they did to me,” I say.

“Who?” he asks, frowning. “What who did to you?”

“The twins.”

He stares at me blankly.

“Do you want money?” I ask, knowing what his answer will be.

“Christ, no,” he says. “I don’t want a penny from you. That’s kind of insulting, actually.”

“Why did you wait?” I ask him. “You’ve been working here for months now. Why did you wait so long?”

“I wanted to get to know you a little,” he tells me.

“To be honest, I only intended working with you for a week or two. But then there was Louise. I could see how close you were, and she was retiring soon anyway. I thought I’d see the internship through until she was gone.

” He sighs, as if years of pain have come to an end, slaps his hands down on his knees, offers a half smile, and stands up. “Anyway. There we are.”

“Sit down,” I snap. For the first time since he arrived at the hospital, I don’t want him to go away.

“No,” he says calmly. “I’ve said all I needed to say. It’s time now.”

“Time for what?”

“To report you. First to the authorities here in the hospital. Then to the police. I’ve already made an appointment. I imagine they’ll be in touch.” He glances at his watch and, to my surprise, simply leaves my office without another word.

I stare at the closed door, trying to figure out what to do next.

In a moment, I’m on my feet, running toward it, flinging it open, and am charging down the corridor after him.

I pass Michael, who raises an eyebrow in surprise, and see Aaron stepping into the elevator.

He turns around and smiles as he sees me rushing toward him.

And that’s when I realize that he’s not alone in there.

There’s another man standing next to him. Someone who, I assume, has been waiting in the corridor throughout our conversation, knowing that today is my day of reckoning.

They’re both looking at me.

I’m ready to give up my fear of enclosed spaces. There are bigger things to be frightened of. I charge toward them, ready to rip the doors apart with my bare hands if I have to, if only I can get to talk to them both, to explain, to stop them doing what they’re going to do.

But it’s too late.

Aaron turns away. He has no interest in ever looking at my face again.

And his best friend, Hugh Winley, places a comforting arm around his shoulder.

As the doors close, he whispers something to him and Aaron nods and smiles again, before exhaling heavily.

I leave the hospital a few minutes later, knowing that I’ll never set foot here again.

I don’t know when the police will show up.

Maybe this evening. Maybe tomorrow. But it will be soon, and when the process begins, I know how it will end.

Everything will come out. They won’t care about what Arthur and Pascoe did to me, they’ll say that I’m a grown woman who made my own choices.

I’ll be struck off. I’ll go to jail. Perhaps they’ll even trace Rufus or George back to me.

If they do, I’ll spend the rest of my life behind bars.

Maybe I’ll suffer the same fate as Evan Keogh, the boy on whose jury I sat.

Found mysteriously dead after a supposed suicide but probably the victim of something more sinister.

I consider my choices. I could go straight to the airport and buy a plane ticket, but I don’t know which countries have extradition treaties with the UK and which don’t.

It would probably take less than two minutes on the internet to find out, but what’s the point?

It would just keep all of this going and, honestly, I’m so tired.

I could kill myself. I’ve thought about that before but know that I don’t have the courage to do what needs to be done.

I could get disgustingly drunk and, for a few hours at least, I might feel happy, before the nightmare begins.

I glance at my watch. It’s just gone three thirty. I get in my car and drive ten minutes south, in the direction of a local school that gets out around now. I slow down when I see the boys making their way home and wait until I find a suitable one, walking alone, young, vulnerable, and innocent.

I slow down.

I pull over.

He’s moving closer and closer, almost in sight now.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

I think of Arthur and Pascoe, who raped me and buried me alive.

I think of Aaron, Rufus, George, and all the other boys I’ve taken home with me over the years.

My finger hovers over the button that will lower the window on the passenger side. I wait until the boy is almost parallel with my car.

Only then do I make my decision.