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‘There are also cultural barriers. You’re talking about very low-paid workers here, so they aren’t expected to show initiative. Instead, they’re given a script to follow to the letter. The problem is that the potential customer, assuming they haven’t hung up already, may need to be led more gently than the script allows for. We do lots of role play on my training courses and it’s really effective.’ He thinks for a moment. ‘I’ve always been fascinated by the way that we communicate with each other in different scenarios. In face-to-face conversations, the words themselves are only a fraction of the overall picture, because you’ve got gestures, facial expressions and tone of voice all adding extra context. A phone call is harder because you don’t have the visual cues, but you can still pick up a lot from the person’s tone of voice. Once you get down to email or letter, you’ve literally only got the words themselves, so the risk of misinterpretation is much bigger and you have to be super careful. You talked about all of this stuff being like a minefield before, and you’re right. I’m the communications minesweeper.’

We’re interrupted again by the arrival of our food. If my burger is anything to go by, this place’s reputation is well deserved, but I can’t concentrate completely on my food as I’m now wondering what subconscious cues I’ve been giving off and, more importantly, what he’s been reading into them. I don’t think I’ve ever found anyone so fascinating, or unnerving.

19

If Nathan picked up on my disquiet after our conversation about his work, he was tactful enough not to mention it, and the rest of the evening passed in typically relaxed fashion as we told each other more about our families and home life. I learned that his younger brother, Tom, ditched education in favour of an entrepreneurial life as soon as he’d finished his A-Levels. Five years on and still only twenty-three years old, he now buys and sells prestige cars for eyewatering sums and is apparently well on the way to making his first million. If I was impressed by that, I’m in awe of Tess, whose determination not to let the assault limit her led to her doing a degree in forensics, which she now uses in her work as a Scene of Crime Officer for Essex police. Her partner, Pete, is a Detective Sergeant in the same force, and they have a two-year-old daughter called Daisy. Even with Troy’s very unusual career, I don’t think we’d have got very far against Nathan in a game of sibling Top Trumps.

I’ve listened to a lot of men talk about themselves and their families over the years. It’s often boring, arrogant and boastful: a real turn-off. But Nathan wasn’t like that. The way his face lit up with fierce pride as he talked about his brother and sister was almost endearing, and they’re obviously a very close family even now. The biggest surprise about Nathan, however, is how easy I find it to talk to him about Tim. After all these years of working hard to put what happened behind me, I would have expected to find his gentle questions intrusive and find a way to shut them down. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not easy giving Tim airtime and there is still a part of me that resents it but, at the same time, it’s curiously cathartic. To begin with, I didn’t really understand why and it bothered me slightly, but last night, I had a bit of a revelation.

I’ve long told myself that Tim belonged in the category of things that were firmly ‘dealt with’ and didn’t need re-examining. What I realised last night, however, is that my conversations with Nathan are a bit like going into a museum archive to work on the remains of a venomous snake in a dusty jar. The physical elements of the snake are all still there and it’s clearly recognisable for what it is, but it’s totally powerless. It can’t harm you any more. You can therefore handle it, run experiments on it and do whatever you like to it in complete safety. The jar is the safety net that Nathan has somehow built around me, no doubt using his dark wizardry to interpret cues that I don’t even know I’m giving off. I’ll live with the dark wizardry, however, because I feel lighter than I have in as long as I can remember.

‘Do you think I should have shared what happened at uni with my family?’ I ask, opening the subject once more as we leave Cape Town behind us the next morning.

‘What makes you ask that?’ He turns to face me, letting me know I have his full attention – another thing I like about him.

‘I guess I’ve just been reflecting on some of the stuff you said last night: how close you all are to each other and how you all supported Tess after she was assaulted. I never gave my family that opportunity, did I, and I just wondered whether I made the wrong choice.’

‘You must have thought it the right choice at the time. Why was that, do you think?’

I consider his question for a while before speaking. ‘I think the fact I wasn’t living at home was a big factor. It made it easier to hide it from them.’

‘But it also deprived you of your support network at a time when you probably needed it the most.’

‘That’s true, but I was so ashamed, especially at the start when I was convinced I must have done something to give him the wrong impression. And the great thing about shame is it just keeps on giving, so I was able to add shame about being the girl who was stupid enough to fall into possibly the most basic Freshers’ Week trap there is. Mum had made no bones about the fact she didn’t think I was emotionally mature enough to leave the family home, and I was scared I’d proved her right. And then, as the icing on the cake, there was the shame associated with feeling dirty and violated. Even though you’re a victim, you feel like you’re tainting everything around you with your filth.’

‘Shame has a lot to answer for.’

‘Doesn’t it?’ I smile ruefully. ‘Then, by the time the anger kicked in and I was beginning to realise it wasn’t all my fault after all, the moment had somewhat passed. I did make a few attempts to bring it up, but I always chickened out. Troy was going through his truckload of shit by then, and I worried they’d think I was attention-seeking.’

‘And now?’

‘And now it feels like water under the bridge.’

‘Water under the bridge,’ he repeats softly. ‘I wonder how many heinous crimes have been quietly brushed aside by that phrase.’

‘It is, though. I know we’ve been talking about it, but I don’t think about it most of the time and I don’t let it affect my life.’

He’s silent but I can tell he doesn’t believe me.

‘I don’t!’ I stress.

More silence.

‘OK, fine. I have a couple of trust issues, but they’re relatively minor. It’s like the mental equivalent of a scar after you cut yourself, nothing more.’

Nathan still says nothing. I can feel my frustration mounting, and I’m just about to say something when he speaks at last.

‘If Tim stepped into the road in front of this car right now, would you brake?’ he asks.

The question catches me completely off guard. ‘Oh, wow, that’s dark. Yes, I probably would, on instinct if nothing else. Why?’

‘I asked Tess the same question once.’

‘What did she say?’

He smiles. ‘She refused to answer. I guess we all carry our scars in different ways. Do you think yours will ever heal over completely?’

‘Will I ever allow myself to trust a man enough to be asleep around him without freaking out, do you mean? I’d like to hope so, but it would need to be a very special man.’ I laugh. ‘A eunuch, perhaps.’