The morning of Monday, 18 September was one of those clear, bright blue sky days that gives everyone hope winter is still way off after all, and the supermarkets are just being ridiculous in already stocking gingerbread biscuits iced with pumpkins and ghosts, plastic spiders, light-up eyeballs and trick-or-treat buckets. I’d dressed carefully in a navy trouser suit with a bright red top to help me feel stronger than I felt and had got up early to wash my hair and dry it properly. I wanted at the very least to look professional when I spoke to David and Cleo about Jonathan’s Friday surgery visit and the unwanted kiss.

Stood with my back to the kitchen table while I stared out of the window into the garden and tried to gather my thoughts, I sipped my coffee apprehensively. Rob was attempting to get Maisie and Tilly started on their raisin wheat, although both girls were crossly registering their complaints about missing the rest of the episode of Paw Patrol he’d not allowed them to pause. I stared silently at our holly tree. Contrasted against the sky, the glossy green leaves and already shiny scarlet berries reminded me – not for the first time – of a painting that had hung for years in my grandfather’s house: a Naïf Vermont winter landscape of children bringing home a Christmas tree on a sled and ice skaters twirling on a frozen lake. I used to want to live in that picture and run through the unblemished snow past the little weather-boarded church to the cosy hay barn and play inside.

‘We should all go to New England next autumn for a holiday,’ I said suddenly. ‘I’ve always wanted to see the woodland colours in the fall.’

Rob straightened up and looked at me, worriedly. ‘OK. Why not? Sounds fun.’ He cleared his throat. ‘You all right?’

I nodded. ‘All good.’ I put my cup down on the draining board and turned to face my girls. ‘Right, sweethearts, I’m going to go to work now. Daddy’s going to take you to school and I’ll come and collect you later. Have a lovely day, won’t you?’ I bent to kiss the top of Maisie’s golden-haired head and breathed in the scent of the Johnson’s shampoo I still used on both of them. I had a sudden urge to stay at home with them, for all four of us to go and do something completely different with such a rare, beautiful day; one we’d remember for all of the right reasons.

I crossed round the table to Tilly, who leant her head back blissfully and closed her eyes to receive my kiss on her soft forehead, before twisting round while still clutching a dripping, milky spoon, arms open wide. ‘Hug me, Mummy!’ she offered generously.

I couldn’t possibly refuse but eyed her spoon warily. ‘Thank you, darling, what a lovely goodbye.’ After a snuggle for her, and one for Maisie too – who wasn’t about to miss out on anything Tilly was getting – I inspected myself anxiously, all of my thoughts and fears temporarily replaced by the simple challenge of getting out of the front door without needing to change again. I glanced up at Rob. ‘Do I look OK?’

‘Perfect.’ He pulled me into a hug, creasing my jacket, but I managed not to say anything, and instead, gratefully took the support in the spirit it was given. ‘Call me at lunchtime, hey?’ He looked at me pointedly, and I nodded. We both knew I’d have something to report by then.

I’d had a long telephone conversation over the weekend with David, who had at first been briskly, almost icily matter of fact. I’d implored him to give me the chance to talk to him as a friend rather than a colleague – and as we spoke, he began to thaw, until to my huge relief he’d started to sound like his normal self again. He hadn’t heard Jonathan blackmail me but was appalled when I told him exactly what Jonathan had wanted in return for his silence.

‘What the fuck is wrong with kids these days? It’s all about sex now, isn’t it? Sexting, watching porn on their phones, child on child sex offences on the rise. Jesus Christ! What have we all let happen to this generation?’ He paused, genuinely bewildered, before adding quickly: ‘Not that I’m saying you saw him as a child. Sorry, that wasn’t helpful.’

‘It’s fine. I’m just relieved you understand that there is NOTHING going on between us, and what you saw was him forcing himself on me.’

‘I think that’s actually the point there, Alex,’ David said suddenly. ‘I made a massive assumption based on what I thought I saw, but he came to your place of work, and after you’d told him to leave he still hid behind your car and waited for you, threatened you unless you slept with him again, grabbed your wrist to restrain you and foisted unwanted sexual contact on you. Just because a woman chooses to have sex with someone once does not give said person the right to assume any kind of relationship or contact after that. And yes, he’s seventeen, but he’s also physically able to overpower you and old enough to know the difference between right and wrong. He knew it was wrong to try and blackmail you like that. Let’s formally document everything with Cleo on Monday morning, so that if he comes back and starts harassing you again, we’ve got a record of everything. Hopefully we won’t ever need it as evidence, but I don’t want to take the chance. I’m so sorry that I leapt to the conclusion I did and I didn’t immediately support and protect you, as I should have.’

‘It’s OK. I’d already told you I’d slept with him, plus you probably were thinking about the warning already on my record because of Rob. It’s easy under those circumstances to let your mind arrive at a conclusion despite the absence of proof.’

‘I’m still sorry I didn’t at least give you the benefit of the doubt. I should have known better.’

---

I took a deep breath as I pulled into my designated ‘doctor on duty’ space outside the surgery, and looked in the mirror, wiping a smudge of mascara from under my eye. At least I didn’t feel as if I was now walking into a room where I had to convince Cleo and David of my innocence, and David was right, if Jonathan was stupid enough to come back, I needed to have taken steps to defend myself.

I closed my eyes for a moment, and took a few deep, calming breathes, before climbing out and closing the car door. I shivered as I walked around the side of the building. I had made an error of judgement with my choice of clothes: it was actually much colder than it looked and my jacket was too thin, so I hastened briskly to the security keypad and punched my code in, before opening the staff door and stepping into the corridor. I gave an involuntary shudder as the warmth began to spread through my body: the surgery was always hot to the point of roasting. I walked down to my office, put my bag down on the floor, took my jacket off and hung it over the back of my chair, before smoothing my trousers and going in search of David and Cleo.

They were in David’s room and, as soon as I walked in, I knew that David had already brought Cleo up to speed. They both had a cup of tea on the go; she was clutching a notebook and pen – which already contained some notes – and inclined her head to one side, smiling sympathetically.

‘Morning, Alex.’

‘Morning.’ It was hard to know if it was appropriate to smile back. ‘Good weekend, both?’

‘Not bad, thank you,’ she said.

‘It was pedestrian, thanks,’ David replied, pushing his chair back and stretching his legs out. ‘Do you want a tea or coffee before we get started, Alex? I’ll make it.’

I shook my head. ‘No, thanks. I’ll have one in a bit. I’d rather just get on with it if that’s OK?’

‘Sure.’ Cleo nodded understandingly. ‘So, it might be best if you just tell me in your own words what happened on Friday when Jonathan Day came to see you for an emergency appointment while you were duty doctor?’

I cleared my throat. ‘OK, so at about eleven o’clock Jen buzzed me and said my next patient was a Shahid Kahn. She told me he was a temporary resident and—’ I stopped, interrupted by the sound of persistent dull thudding drifting up the hall. I paused and we all listened carefully, but there was nothing. ‘That he was a fresher,’ I continued, ‘who didn’t want to say why he needed—What is that?’ I broke off as the noise resumed again.

David frowned, got up and opened his door wider, leaning out into the corridor. ‘Jen? Bev?’ he called. ‘Are you there? Everything OK?’

‘It’s just some bloke knocking at the main door,’ Jen called back. ‘I think he’s gone over the road to Lloyds. Probably a prescription mess up, or something, I expect.’

‘OK, well, shout if you need us.’ David turned around, came back over to his desk but, in the process of sitting down while simultaneously picking up his mug, he didn’t manage to get a proper grip on the handle and promptly dropped the cup of hot tea in his lap.

‘Ow! Fuck!’ he exclaimed, leaping to his feet. The cup fell to the floor and bounced on the laminate, jerking the remains of the liquid in the air. Cleo jumped up out of the way, and I swung my legs to one side as the cup clattered to a stop, and David started to scrub, vigorously and pointlessly, at the front of the wet patch on his trousers with the sheet of tissue he’d already snatched off the patient bed behind him. ‘That’s really bloody hot!’

‘Are you all right?’ I said, concerned. ‘You haven’t scalded yourself, have you?’

‘I’m fine, thank you. Anyway, I’m not taking off my trousers so you can have a look, even with a third party present.’ He nodded at Cleo, who was bending to pick up the cup. ‘They’ll have you pegged as a medical Mata Hari at this rate.’

‘I hope not. She ended up in front of a firing squad, didn’t she?’ I replied. ‘Which would seem a little harsh, even for the GMC.’

David snorted. ‘Let me just sort myself out and we’ll reconvene in a minute, OK?’

We didn’t get the chance, however, because the man Jen had seen at the front door came back. It was Mr Daniels, one of our regulars who, Jen, having only been our receptionist for two weeks, had not yet had the pleasure of meeting. He had significant mental health issues alongside physical problems with his blood pressure and was convinced that the medication we’d prescribed was in fact poison because we couldn’t be bothered to work out what was really wrong with him. He’d been verbally abusive to Megan on several occasions and was now registered to Steven, a gentle but firm bear of doctor who, like Mr Daniels, was not far off retirement age. This had seemed to placate Mr Daniels initially, having ‘a man of experience’ looking after him, but, as ever, it was only a temporary fix and he was back with a vengeance. We ended up letting him in but then had to call the police when he refused to leave and started shouting obscenities at Bev while our curious patients gathered outside the front door waiting for the morning surgery to start.

‘Well, that ought to give them all enough drama to keep them busy while they wait,’ said David drily from behind the reception desk as the now full waiting room watched a bitterly protesting Mr Daniels being manhandled into the back of a police car. ‘Poor old sod, what a shitty start to a week.’ He sighed and, for a moment, I wasn’t sure if he was talking about himself or Mr Daniels. ‘Anyway, as we were. Alex, Cleo, can we conclude at lunchtime instead?’ I nodded, and Cleo gave him a thumbs up.

‘Everyone else,’ Cleo addressed the rest of the assembled staff squashed into the back room to see what all of the fuss was about, ‘can we have a brief meeting at one p.m. for five minutes, because we—’ she stopped as more shouting broke out beyond the desk. ‘For goodness’ sake! What now?’

‘That can’t be Daniels back again, surely?’ David said worriedly.

We quickly opened the side door to the office and pushed through the double doors at the top of the corridor back into the waiting room. My first thought was that perhaps Mr Daniels had finally tipped over the edge and become actually dangerous. I was worried for our full waiting room of potentially vulnerable patients, including children.

We both quickly scanned the room – and my heart stopped to see the couple in front of the reception desk who had been raising their voices. Gary and Christy Day were stood slightly in front of their son, who was dressed neatly in his school uniform. Gary, fully suited and booted, turned and saw me.

‘There she is!’ he exclaimed angrily, pointing right at me. ‘That’s the doctor who’s been sexually abusing our son.’

The whole room was instantly silent, as if someone had hit the mute button on a television. I was only aware of my heart starting to thump violently in my chest as every single pair of eyes in the room swivelled to look at me. I saw frowns, mouths falling open and, on some faces, immediate disgust.

Christy Day pushed round her husband and positioned herself right in front of me, facing me full on. She was heavily made-up, dressed in skinny black jeans, spikey sock ankle boots and a tight black top under a real fox fur gilet. Her long sharp nails gripped the handle of her designer bag furiously. She’d evidentially come dressed for a fight.

‘Shame on you!’ She practically spat the words at me. ‘And you came to my house? You have the brass neck to get one of your slapper friends to put you forward so you can come into my house to get at my child?’

She took a step closer, and I tensed as David leapt between us and put up his hands. ‘We need to calm this down. This is a very serious allegation you’re making here, and this isn’t an appropriate—’

‘Appropriate?’ Christy turned on him. ‘Don’t you dare talk to me about what’s appropriate! You’re supposed to be able to trust your doctor with your children. She’s been preying on him for months!’

‘What? No, I haven’t! That’s a lie!’ I exclaimed, horrified.

‘So you haven’t had sex with my son then?’ Christy demanded.

I hesitated and looked at Jonathan. His face was absolutely blank, and he stared straight ahead.

‘You see!’ Christy exclaimed triumphantly to the room. ‘She’s not denying it! She can’t, because it’s true. Well we’re not going to let you get away with this. I’m going to make sure you never get your dirty hands on anyone else’s son.’ She leant round David and pushed her finger into my face, jabbing me on the forehead between my eyes hard enough to make me jerk my head back in shock. It was horrible, like she was miming a bullet hitting me.

‘That’s enough,’ David said. ‘I’ve just had the police here and I’ll call them again if you attempt another assault on my colleague. Please, just come through into somewhere we can—’

My wife isn’t the one doing the assaulting.’ It was Gary’s turn to step forward and interrupt. ‘You best get us a room where we can make our complaint properly.’ He looked David up and down, distastefully, taking in the visible stain on the front of his trousers. ‘I assume it’s you who runs this place as you’re acting the big billy bollocks.’

‘Dad.’ It was the first word Jonathan had said.

‘Don’t worry, son, I’m dealing with it.’ Gary didn’t look at Jonathan, just held up a hand to silence him. ‘She’s not going to be allowed to hurt you again.’

‘Yes, he’s the one who runs it,’ Christy said, nodding at David. ‘He’s the doctor I saw last month.’

‘This is outrageous!’ I exclaimed. I was starting to shake. ‘You’re making public allegations that are completely false, and which you can’t have any evidence of because they’re not true. That’s slander, and I’ll sue you if say another word.’

‘You’re threatening me?’ Gary laughed incredulously. ‘Did you hear that everyone? The kiddy-fiddler doctor says she’s going to sue me!’

‘I mean it, I’ll call the police if you continue this.’ David turned to face Gary. ‘We either discuss this privately or not at all.’

‘Jonathan – you know this isn’t true.’ I addressed him over his parents, directly and loudly. ‘Why are you making this up? Is it because I said I’d tell everyone you tried to blackmail me into sleeping with you?’

‘Don’t talk to him,’ Christy pointed at me furiously. ‘Don’t so much as look at him, love, all right?’

‘Please, Alex, don’t say anything more.’ David swung round to face me. ‘Just go into my office and wait there, OK?’

‘Jonathan?’ I looked at him desperately as he raised his head, met my eyes… and stayed silent. I was almost certain I saw the ghost of a smile play about his mouth, but when I blinked in disbelief, his expression was implacable once again.

I had no choice but to turn around and leave the room, everyone watching me. As I opened the door I heard one of the older patients tut and repeat Christy’s verdict with a muttered: ‘For shame!’

I did as I was told and went into David’s office, sat down in my chair of earlier and noticed there was still tea on the floor. Automatically, I got back up, pulled some more tissue sheets from the large roll in the dispenser, folded them and placed them on the floor, stepping on them to absorb the liquid, as I did at home when one of the girls knocked over a drink. When I saw it had soaked as much as it was going to, I carefully put the tissue in the bin and sat back down. I didn’t have my phone in the room with me, so I couldn’t call or text Rob. I never rang him from the work phones and I realised I didn’t even know his mobile number in any case, so I just sat very still, in shock, and waited. Jonathan had done this because he thought it was all going to come out about him trying to blackmail me. He’d made sure he got in there with his accusation first.

David returned at nine a.m., looking ashen. He sat down opposite me. ‘The Days have alleged that you’ve been involved in an inappropriate sexual relationship with their son, Jonathan, for three months now, which, they say, began after his first appointment with you. I’ve checked the records and you did see him on Thursday, 15 June, at three p.m. The phrase Jonathan’s mother keeps using is ‘sexual abuse’, although Jonathan himself, while agreeing you’ve been having a relationship, has stated it has always been consensual.’

I exhaled with a sort of violent gasp. I hadn’t been aware I’d been holding my breath.

‘Although Jonathan now says he feels “uncomfortable” with what’s happened. So, while the good news is there’s no basis for a criminal charge here, professionally – for us as doctors – meaningful consent is pretty much an impossibility in this situation. He’s without doubt going to be viewed as a vulnerable patient and trust is the cornerstone of the doctor-patient relationship. I don’t have any choice under the circumstances but to ask you to accept suspension with immediate effect pending an investigation, as the Days are making their complaint to the GMC as we speak. I’m so very sorry, Alex.’

I nodded, silently.

‘You should get some legal advice, I think.’

‘They’re going to strike me off, aren’t they? It’ll be my word against his, and they’ll look at the warning I received over Rob and think they know exactly what happened.’

‘I think your registration is at risk, yes.’

‘You know he’s lying, don’t you, David?’ I looked him straight in the eye.

‘Oh Alex, if it was only all down to me… but this is out of my hands now.’ He said it kindly, but we both knew he was being a good doctor, carefully offering as much comfort as his professional parameters allowed. ‘Do you want us to call Rob to come and get you? Will you be safe to drive?’

I swallowed, feeling near to tears. ‘I’ll be fine, but, thank you.’ I reached out my hand and put it on his knee, to show that I understood what he was having to do, even though we were friends – but he visibly flinched and, horrified by how my action could have been misinterpreted, I snatched it back. ‘God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—’

‘It’s fine – don’t worry.’ He quickly reached across his desk for a tissue for me. ‘Go home and please phone the MDU, Al. You’re a female doctor – which is rare in this kind of situation in any case – and the Days yelled their allegation in the most public way they could. This is already out there, and I think we have to expect a high level of media interest.’

---

I drove home slowly through the bright sunshine to tell my husband I’d just been accused of sexually assaulting a teenager and was now suspended pending further investigation. I was exactly the same woman who had left for work several hours earlier preparing to document the beginnings of harassment by a male patient. But now, everyone was only going to see my reflection in the seventeen-year-old mirror Jonathan was holding. It was horrific.

I was devastated.

David was right – both Christy and Gary Day knew exactly what they were doing when they walked into the surgery. They wanted maximum exposure, and I don’t believe they considered either the effect it would have on their son, or my daughters, for one second. They just intended to punish me for what they believed I had done wrong… but Jonathan? He wanted to be back in control after I’d taken it away from him on Friday.

I’ve thought about this a lot; Jonathan Day has no autonomy in his relationship with his parents, so he seeks out situations where he gets one up on someone in a parental position instead – I was just a vehicle for his need to lose and then regain control. Sometimes he uses sex to get his own way, sometimes power. He’s happy to play the poor little boy or the powerful man, as long as he has the upper hand. If I hadn’t become his victim, I would have found it fascinating that he could suppress or invoke feelings for the purpose of control, rather than the authenticity of the feelings themselves.

In other words, what had actually happened between us was irrelevant to him. Like all good liars he adapted his story to suit his immediate circumstance.

Did that make me angry?

Of course it did.