First Book

Chapter 1

         “Oh!  Excuse me”, he said as he righted himself from his close fall.  “That’s quite alright” she responded quickly, slightly irritated by yet another careless come on.
         He had something that appeared to be quite heavy in one hand, which he adjusted quickly. Slightly graying hair covered his head. Brown shoes with multi-colored socks. She noted the details quickly to register the facts in her memory, to avoid him in the future. Just as quickly, she felt drawn to a certain look in his eyes. He didn’t actually stare directly at her, but simply passed quickly over her, as she had done, over him, and then returned to where they were now, calmly, quietly saying, “I’m sorry”.
         Not, ‘What great tits’ look, or ‘jeez, you would look great in my king size bed’. No, he was saying ‘Sorry’ with all of the honesty that a pair of dark blue eyes could muster. She felt compelled all of a sudden to relax her guard. She placed one hand gently on his and muttered, “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”
         Her hand stayed there and unconsciously began a slow gentle down stroke, which she repeated. She felt comforted in her own touch, a certain sense of peace took her by surprise and she shivered a little as she tried to return to calm.
         The heavy object sat on the ground now and he was taking her hand into his. He shook it gently and looking into her eyes began to ask.
         “I know it sounds corny but, haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”
         She smiled a little, her defenses returning and began to prepare to fend him off.
         “You don’t have to do that you know” he stated his eyes smiling in a way that seemed to bring back memories of youth and peace and long slumbers under shady trees.
         “I don’t actually want to pick you up or anything like that, but well” he hesitated some more, “I really feel that we have met before.”
         Her shields collapsed in disarray as she struggled to understand this difference. Trying to formulate a backup plan, she said, “I really don’t think so. I would have remembered it.”          Her hand lay suspended there, unmoving within his gentle but firm grip. She wanted to pull away, she wanted to turn about and walk away she wanted to do so many things but she didn’t. Instead, she looked again into those eyes and saw the history of the world, the light of the sun and the dark shadows of the moon. From all of history beginning she saw herself and she nearly cried.
         “It has been a long long time,” he said, “since I have met someone that moves me quite as much as you do.”
         “It’s funny you should say that” she said, “but I was thinking exactly the same thing.” The shock. Why had she said that?
         “I guess this is the moment when I should ask you back to my place and offer you a week of never ending sex and passion,” he joked
         She stiffened just slightly. The smile remained and he hadn’t moved, not even a fraction. His body was still and his gestures were simple, he was joking.
         “I won’t, though. I don’t think it’s the right moment yet.”
         “What do you mean?” she asked, “I don’t think I understand.”
         “I don’t know if I understand either.”
         The pause. “Do you come here often?”
         The same corny lines, said by anyone else, would have set her on edge and made her cold, but the way he asked her made her reply different.
         “No this is my first time, How about you?”
         “It’s the first for me too,” he said as he looked about them. It was crowded and people were bustling here and there creating an infernal din. She didn’t like noise or crowds and would have preferred to be somewhere else.
         “We could have coffee you know,” he stated, “there should be a place somewhere near here.”
         It was too close now, too good to be true. She was frightened, more than she could remember having ever felt before. She was drawn towards him, wanting to drink his coffee, wanting to talk his words, wanting to know his thoughts and wanting to confide all that she felt, but she couldn’t.
         “I really can’t, but thank you all the same.” So formal but still her fear passed through the spoken phrase and drew from him an understanding nod.
         “Actually, I don’t have any idea where we could go and I am kind of pushed.”
         “Maybe another time.” she started
         “There will be another time I am sure of that.” He finished as he reached for the object releasing her hand and slipped into the rambling crowd.
         “I don’t know your name, your telephone number,” she began calling out quietly after the departing figure, his bobbing head disappearing out of sight.
Chapter 2

         “Hello”, came the voice
         She turned to see who it was, “Oh it’s you.”
         “I’m pleased that you remember,” He said, “What, it’s been about three months now hasn’t it?”
         “I guess so,” she said trying to remember the exact day.
         “I guess this is where you hang out?” he fished.
         “No, this is my first time here.”
         “So what are you doing here in this neck of the woods?” he asked.
         “I came to buy something, my friends told me that anything I wanted I would find here. Anyway, what are you doing here or do you live here?”
         “Nope, my first time also, I came to sell.”
         “So what about that week of” she hesitated checking the moment carefully, “of passion you promised me”, she laughed as he too recalled their last meeting.
         “You know, we didn't actually have a chance to get better acquainted. My name is Peter.”
         His proffered hand brought forth a little of the doubt she still felt within. It was okay to remember the lighter moments but actually have him know who she was, still seemed too much. She took his hand and shaking it lightly, counted the petals on her imaginary flower until finally.
         “Hi Peter. I’m Cynthia”, that last petal fluttering gently to the base of her secure wall where a faint breach opened up enough for her to trust him, Peter, with this oh so delicate, private, part of her. She was learning.
         “Look, you remember that coffee, well how about we make it lunch?”
         “I don’t know if there is anywhere decent around here.”
         “Well that depends on what you like. How about a picnic?”
         “What here?” She looked about at the dirty walls, the crowded streets and the absolute lack of anything remotely like picnicking territory.
         “I know of a place near here if you are interested.”
         “Let’s get a Burger,” she suggested
         “Sounds okay to me.”
         They stepped out of the Burger bar into the warmth of the sun. They hadn’t spoken much, small talk mostly, about this and that, the city, pollution, crowds and the like. It was comfortable talk, the way of friends, those that might have been together for years. She had tried something a little more personal but he had stopped her.
         “This is something I think that can wait a bit. From what I see in you, in your eyes, in the way you hold yourself, that you have already been through a lot, emotionally speaking.  I don’t think it is necessary.”
         This surprised her. How could he, after such a short time sense so clearly what she was feeling?
         “Look over there” he said as they continued walking leaving that moment falling away behind them. She looked then remembering suddenly, glanced at her watch and exclaimed
         “Gosh I forgot all about the time. I’m late, I really have to go.”
         “What do you want, a taxi, a bus or do you have your own car.”
         “The bus, the one that goes downtown.”
         “Well we’re in luck. There’s one coming along right now.”
         As they were at the bus stop, he gestured for it to stop.
         “By the way” he asked, “You never did tell me what It was you came to buy?”
         She stepped onto the bus, looked back and said “A picture of a Cat on a Roof.”
         The bus door was closing as he swung his satchel around to open it. The bus began pulling away with him running along side holding up the picture of a Cat on a Roof, that he had come to sell. She saw it and waved frantically but it was no use. The bus had already gained its speed and left him there receding into the distance.
Chapter 3
         “So that’s how it all began,” she said, looking lovingly at the picture of the ‘Cat on the Roof’, which had the center stage in front of her.
         Mary too, looked at that painting trying to picture the scene that her friend had recounted to her.
         Mary-Jane Lockley was her full name, her husband, Dirk, was quite a successful business-man who had made them both quite well off. She had quite o lot of free time on her hands and spent most of it trying to help various community projects.
         It was while participating in one such project that she met Cynthia, who didn’t appear in any way remarkable, but after several days of working closely with her, Mary had found her to be quite intriguing. They shared many likes and dislikes and in spite of the difference in their ages, had many things in common.
         It was however, more because of their natural dislikes not likes that brought them closer. Cynthia often liked to throw theories and suppositions at Mary about whatever was happening around them, political, racial, social events, and Mary, like the crazy fool she was, always seemed to find herself in a library or at a computer terminal trying to find the missing pieces that contravened or complimented her arguments. It was fun and stimulating and she didn’t do half bad.
         Mary would often say, “Now I know that we women aren’t naturally nosey, hmm hmm, but I, like any normal female creature, like a little bit of mystery and my friend Cynthia seems to have it in spades.”
         During one of their many discussions Cynthia had let slip a little something that had disturbed Mary.
“You know that for the life of me, I can‘t remember my mother‘s name.”
         It was a simple, somewhat perplexed statement, something that didn’t seem to fit. She had never said that she had been separated from her family and had always refrained from commenting anything at all about her mother or her father.
         This was like a red flannel to a bull, and Mary was just that bull.
         Cynthia had invited them over on many occasions but they had always had other engagements which took precedence, so it had not been possible for them to become better acquainted. That was until this last statement.
“You know that you owe me a visit!” Cynthia said, so Mary rang Dirk and told him to cancel everything because they were going calling.
“He was such a dear,” she recalled “he actually understands me you know, so he cancelled the meeting he had arranged just so that we could call-on Cynthia and Peter.”

         “When was this exactly?” Mary asked, ”When it all began?”
         “It was nine years ago, our first meeting actually, and our second meeting was three months after that.”
         “But you’ve only been together for the last three years, what happened before that?”
         She gazed into her distant past and continued.
         “When we were in the Burger bar, you know that he ordered for me, except, he didn’t even ask me. He just selected this and that, different things to what he had ordered, and the surprising thing was that he got it all right. Right down to the last detail.”
         “That’s amazing.” Mary stated. “I suppose he just guessed lucky.”
         “No not at all. He just kind of looked at me for a few seconds, then ordered.”
         “Does he still do that?”
         “Sometimes, not always. It depends really. I feel somehow that he can do it all the time but prefers to let me be part of it.”
         She wandered over to the window and looked down upon the bustling city below.
         “The weirdest thing though is that he seems to know so much about me yet doesn’t get all of it. Like that picture for instance, he told me later that it was only when I said it to him face to face that he realized why we had come together right there at that place.”
         Mary was finding the whole thing quite interesting and wanted to ask a few questions but saw that her friend hadn’t yet finished.
         “When we were leaving the restaurant, he mentioned to me that he wouldn’t be seeing me again for quite a long time. I laughed when he told me, I even asked if he was going away, but he just said that I shouldn’t worry because we would be together eventually. That’s kind of strange isn’t it because he was absolutely right.”
Chapter 4
         Cynthia craned her neck desperately out of the window of the bus looking for the last vestiges of him. She felt torn between the urge to stop the bus and the need to make it to the appointment she had downtown.
         The image remained in her mind, The Cat on the Roof, exactly as she herself had imagined it. She had seen it only very quickly in his outstretched hands but it was enough for each and every detail to become fixed in her memory.
         She thought about their encounter, the way that it happened, the simplicity of their lunch, it was lunch, nothing more. It wasn’t a flashy restaurant with twenty dollar tips and it wasn’t just a cheap joint where the uncaring or long-wedded go. It matched their moment perfectly.
         She stood up as the bus pulled into its final stop.
         “Thank you” she said as she stepped down. She glanced again at her watch and, noting that she still had some time, started to walk slowly along the store fronts glancing at the wares on display.
         She stopped at one store in particular and caught a glimpse of herself reflected in its great glass display.
         Not tall, not short, nice breasts, well most men said it little bit big round the top of her legs but not too bad, couldn’t really see that from here but she knew. Needed makeup and could do with a change of hairstyle. Red hair was no longer in fashion so that would have to go.
         She turned this way and that until glancing about her she realized that people were staring at her. She was happy, she felt good. She beamed a contented smile at them and wandered on.
         “So let’s get down to it,” he said. The he was her boss, her ‘worst enemy’ who had been riding her for the last two months. Nothing she did was good enough, in fact she was about to negotiate her possible return to active service. He had sent her home two days ago with instructions to pull herself together or `ship out`.
         “Alright, you’re here because you have a friend who thinks that you need a second chance. I don’t think so.” he said
         “I feel that...”
         “Please don’t interrupt me Cynthia; I still have one or two things to add.”
         She felt the same old anger welling up inside of her. He irritated her, ever since he had tried to ask her out and she had said no. He had always been pleasant to her, but from that day onward had done his best to make her life as difficult as possible.
         As she thought about that moment and the problems she had had since then, she began to get angrier. He began to comment further when suddenly she was on her feet.
         “Look Mr. Bryant. I really don’t see the point in all this. If you’re going to fire me then why don’t you get it over with?” She stood there defiantly, her chin jutting out her eyes flashing, ready for whatever he had to say.
         He paused; he had her right where he wanted her. There was nobody here to witness what was going on, he had seen to that. He would normally have been angry at such an outburst but as he had control he waited just a little bit longer.
         Finally he said, “Sit down Cynthia. Let’s see what we can do about this situation”. It was a command but said in such a way that it disarmed her. He hadn’t shouted but had made it quite clear that he was controlling the situation.
         She sat back into her chair in submissive silence, glaring warily at him. He knew that she didn’t have much of a choice. Her records showed that she had heavy debts and needed the job.
         This was where he had to be careful. If he forced her she could turn everything round against him.
         “Over the last two months I have seen a steady decrease in productivity, your results are poor and you have been constantly defying my authority.”
         She listened in disbelief at what he was saying. Near tears the anger returned. She was producing as much or even more as the next person. As for results, the other managers had congratulated her on what she had achieved, and defying authority, well she would see about that.
         She stood up again and stuck out her finger, the words welling up ready to barrage him with all the truth and anger that she had built up. Just as suddenly, she felt that something was wrong. She hesitated then looked about her at the empty room.
         He misunderstood her hesitation. He thought that he had her right where he wanted her.
         “You know Cynthia, with your record, or should I say your performance over these last months,” he was ahead in points so he repeated the dig that had bought her to her feet. If she was going to take it like this then the rest was going to be easy, “getting another job is not going to be easy. Why don’t you make it easy on yourself?”
         “Where are they?” she asked
         “Where are who?”  He asked back with a puzzled frown
         “The people from Human Resources. You can’t talk to me like that without at least one representative here.” She wasn’t really sure if it were true or not, but if things were coming to this then she wanted to get all that she was entitled to.
         This question shook him a little. He wasn’t one hundred percent in control because she had found a loophole. He decided to bluff his way through.
         “This is still an informal interview as yet, one that I initiated to try and help the both of us,” he liked that. It sounded good and kept him in the running.
         “I didn’t know that this was an interview,” she said. “It seems more like a threat.”
         He was loosing his patience with her. He wanted her at any cost and was willing to take what ever risk necessary.
         “Let’s cut the crap,” he said coarsely, “you have what I want and if you don’t give out you are on the street.”
         She stared at him in shocked disbelief. He had lost control, now she was going to pay.
         “I’ll report you, you know that.”
         “It makes no difference to me” he replied “There are no witnesses; it’s your word against mine. Who do you think they will believe? A factory worker or a senior manager?”
Still shocked but running on emergency reserves she started to put together a plan.
         She stood up and slowly unbuttoned her blouse.
         “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Why don’t you come closer and get a better look?”
         Well, he didn’t think it would be so easy, but what the heck, when you’ve got it, you’ve got it.
         He moved around the table to where she was, smiling sadistically at the thought of the forthcoming pleasure and reached out a hand to her open blouse.
         She turned coyly to her right placing her left hand to the top of her blouse. He was closer now just in the right position. She slipped a finger beneath the cup of her bra and pulled it down to show the edge of her nipple. He was hooked. All of his attention was there on the last constraints of her bra and the semi-protruding nipple.
         Suddenly she swung round to her left with all her weight behind her, swinging her right fist into the side of his face, her left hand ripping down on her blouse and her breast popping out of its protection. Her scream was long and shrill, echoing round the room through the door she had just opened and down the short corridor along which she was running. She fell into the arms of a security guard who covered her as best he could with his oversized jacket. A nearby secretary raced over to help while the other guard raced into the room she had just left.
Chapter 5
         Inside the room he found a man in dishevelled condition holding a hand to his face which appeared to have received a recent injury.
         “And is the man who was in that room, in this courtroom today?”
The guard nodded and said “Yes, he is here.”
         “Can you point to him please?”
         “That man over there” he said pointing to the man sitting at the table at the front of the courtroom.
         “Do you know this man?”
         “Yes I do.?” the guard responded
         “Could you tell the court this mans name please”
         “This man is known to me as Allen Bryant.” the guard responded a little nervously at the unaccustomed formality of his speech.
         “Let it be registered by the court that the man identified by the witness, is the defendant Allen Bryant.”
         Cynthia sat there watching, listening to the proceedings going on around her. She had had to take out this action against him, mostly because those around her were divided in their opinions. The company was supporting Allen Bryant, as he suggested they would, while most of her friends were helping her in any way possible.
         There was even another girl who had been in the same situation with Bryant but unfortunately, was too afraid to come forward.
         “The court will now adjourn for lunch and we will continue with these proceedings at 2 o’clock.”
         Cynthia followed her beckoning attorney to a nearby room, where they quickly doused the lights and began to run the video that he had acquired.
         There she was, with Bryant in front of her, each and every movement, conversation, repeated for all to see.
         “How did you get this?” she asked as it ended.
         “It’s standard policy for security to monitor certain areas of the complex where you work. It appears that at this particular time, they had left the recorder going after having done some routine tests. In some senses we are very lucky to have all of this on tape”.
         “Why in only some senses?” she asked
         “Well for one thing, it’s probably not admissible as evidence. If it is then we will have to get the consent of the defence counsel.”
         “And I guess that will be almost impossible?” she thought aloud
         “Actually no, not that difficult which brings me to the second point. There are some things occurring here that you failed to mention. He didn’t actually touch you and his attempts at the “sex for job” conversation might easily be turned around against you.”
         The attorney raised his hand as she fished for some kind of explanation and continued.
         “We believe what you say, we also think that we have a clear sexual harassment case, but we can’t ignore the possibility that a clever lawyer could win with this video if he treated it right.”
         Her head hung a little limply as she thought about the situation she was in. She too had seen the way the images portrayed the situation. He hadn’t touched her and even though she was part of it and had felt the threat coming from him, she had to admit that on the tape, it was very hard to tell whether the threat was sexual or professional.
         “Up to this moment we are the only ones that have knowledge of this tape, and as far as I know, this is the only copy. If word gets out that it exists, we may face a possible contempt of court if we don’t produce it, or could even be prosecuted ourselves for withholding evidence. Of course this second possibility would normally only occur if this was a murder case, but I still have to warn you.”
As the attorney completed his speech, Cynthia decided to try one last move.
         “Can the tape be altered in any way?”
         “No it can’t” he replied. “There is a very clear date and time stamp on every frame. Even if only one frame was missing, that would be enough to invalidate any testimony related to the tape itself and it would therefore become inadmissible as evidence.”
         “What would the consequences be, or should I say, what could they do to the persons responsible for any alterations made?” She was thinking quickly now and had to know as much as possible before she made her decision.
         “This is a kind of gray area. It all depends on the importance of the evidence, the tape, to either side. If it could be proven that the evidence was unlawfully altered in such a way as to sway the opinion of the judge or jury and thereby alter the course of justice, then the state might decide to intercede. The possibility is remote, as this kind of evidence is considered unreliable, but this fact cannot be relied upon to warrant an act of this type.”
         “How about we do the following? It seems obvious to me that if we have the tape, it won’t take them long to find out about it, especially if we were to introduce it as evidence. What if we released the tape right now with just one frame missing? It wouldn’t matter which one, and if the worst came to the worst, we could deny that we tampered with it and it would automatically become invalid.”
         “I’m not sure I see the point you’re trying to make here,” said her attorney looking inquisitively at her.
         “Even I, have to admit that when viewing this video, I don’t look very convincing, so why make it so difficult that the defence can make a field day out of it. Why don’t we just release it now with that little change and make it inadmissible?”
         “I’m sorry but we can’t do that. The consequences would be more damaging than the present situation and our future situation if this tape were to be used in its present state. If this is used by the defence then we have a chance of defending it and maybe even make them trip up on some of the more delicate extracts, but if it could be proven that the tape was doctored while in our hands then our defence would go down in a burning mess.”
         “But why do we have to defend it? He is the defendant isn’t he?” She didn’t want to give in, even though she knew deep down that he was right. She just wanted to give it one more shot.
         “He is only the defendant with regard to the crime with which he is being charged. This evidence, if produced by the defence would open up the necessity for us to explain away some of the anomalies that this would introduce, so, therefore we would have to assume the role of defence.”
         “Oh I’m so sick of it. I feel like packing it all in and running off home.” Tears began to well up in her eyes as she felt the past weeks of stress taking hold, and the apparent futility of trying to beat a system created by man, to serve men, and only men.
         From beneath her half closed eyelids, she saw her attorney placing his things in his briefcase. He hadn’t said anything since his last explanation, so she wasn’t sure what he intended doing. She wanted someone to comfort her right at this moment. Someone to hold her and pat her head and tell her that everything was going to be alright and to kiss her gently and to do everything she imagined a well behaved husband would do and she cried silently within as she felt so lost and lonely and she wanted to run and she wanted to sleep and she thought about Peter.
         His name was Peter and he had taken her to a burger bar. She remembered him now, at this moment, because she remembered how she felt when she was with him. He didn’t make her feel threatened, nor did she sense an obligation to have him court her. It was so simple and uncomplicated and she couldn’t understand why she remembered him so.
         Peter seemed to understand her. He said that she was beautiful and that she should have been a model. Most men she knew said the same thing. It was the way she looked, she guessed or maybe the impression that she gave.
         When he said it though, it seemed to mean something else. She felt that if HE said it then she really should consider doing it.
         It was only a few hours, lets face it, so how could he have done this to her, in such a short period of time?
         The attorney coughed discreetly. “I’m going to have lunch now. I will call my colleagues and discuss these new facts with them. We should have a better idea after that and then it will be a matter of you deciding what you want to do.”
         He picked up his briefcase and was gone. She dried the remnants of her tears from around her eyes and picked up her bag to leave. There on the desk next to where her bag had lain, was the video tape that her attorney had left for her. She read the note he had written and placing both in her bag, walked out into the warmth of the sunlit street.
Chapter 6
         “The defense would like to introduce as evidence, a security video which was actively recording the events on the day of the incident. Transcripts have been prepared and will be distributed amongst you.”
         “Does the prosecution have any objections?”
         “Yes we do. Is there any evidence to suggest that the contents of this video are complete and that the source is reliable?”
Well it had begun. Following his instructions, she had placed the video in a trash can, near a hardware store and had then gone to lunch and forgotten about the whole thing.
         Several days later, the video reappeared by registered post. There was a copy for her and a note stating that a copy had been sent to the defence team.  She reviewed the tape and noted that there appeared to be nothing different in its content. She surrendered it to her attorney who filed it away for safe keeping. That was two weeks ago, there had been a small problem with the court room, a flood after heavy rains, so the case had been adjourned for ten days.
         “The source I cannot vouch for, as for the completeness of the contents, perhaps my learned colleague might enlighten us as to why he chose this particular question, or does he know something we don’t?
         Stuart Sybold, Cynthia’s attorney, winced a little at the unconscious gaff he had made and proceeded to defuse the situation.
         “We too received a copy of the tape but we were unable to validate the source.” - The original supplier was well out of the way, and the scope of the trial didn’t warrant the cost involved in searching for him - “besides which, after some close studies were made it was determined that the tape showed sufficient evidence of tampering to make it inadmissible...”
         “Your honour, I respectfully suggest that the fact that the prosecution does not want the tape to be submitted is because it contains evidence prejudicial to the case for the prosecution and what’s...”
         Stuart needed to herd the judge in another direction. “May it please your honour, that we have signed testimony by a court approved expert stating that there is evidence to suggest tampering and sir, based on this report, I therefore request that this evidence be excluded on these grounds.”
         “But your honour...”
         “Gentlemen! Gentlemen! May I please have some decorum in my courtroom. Now as to the acceptance of the video as evidence, I think that I should like to see a preview of the tape in my quarters before we proceed any further.”
         Stuart hadn’t counted on this, but then again all was not lost.
“This court will recess for half an hour while the video evidence is evaluated.” Saying this, the judge rose and directed the two attorneys to follow him to his quarters.
         “Now gentlemen, it is not the custom of this court to permit the use of video testimony or any type of media with no fixed content. As evidence, I can only question its validity, but for the purposes of clarification, I will permit the showing of this video but only in its entirety. That means that both sides may well be equally served. There is one condition however, and that is that it is the last item to be presented to the jurors and that there be no cross examination afterwards nor any references made directly to it.
         “But your Honour, We, on the defence can exonerate our client with certain parts of this video....”
         “And we on the prosecution can prove beyond doubt the attempted act of sexual harassment...”
         “Gentlemen” he called out, then after waiting long enough for them to quieten, continued,” as you can see, the situation is rather delicate. In all fairness, I should exclude the presentation of this material. It would not radically affect the outcome and would in turn keep the costs of this trial lower. However, on the other hand, I believe that if you people agree, we can still achieve the ends of both your clients and justice without necessarily incurring those added costs, which to me seem unwarranted.
Chapter 7
         “I saw him there just towards the end of the video. I turned around, I don’t know why, and there he was sitting there at the back of the gallery. As it was quite a long way away I couldn’t really see him very clearly but it was enough to see that he didn’t look very happy.”
         “You mean Peter was there in court? But how did he know? Did you get to speak to him?”
         “I really couldn’t believe it. He told me later that a friend of a friend had commented on the trial and he had gone there out of curiosity. I remember watching the scenes on the video and wondering what he must have been thinking of me, but he left before I could speak to him. I was sorry for that. I really needed a shoulder right at that moment.”
         “So why did he leave? He could have at least said hello.”
         “Actually he said later that he was on a tight schedule and he had had to meet his wife.”
         “What! He was married?” Mary looked dumbstruck as this new turn of events whammed her fully in the stomach.
         Cynthia smiled. “I didn’t believe it either when he told me. He said it so matter-of-factly as if it were the most natural thing in the world.”
         “So what was he doing, taking you out to lunch and everything? What was it? A ruse, just to get you into bed?”
         “If I had known about his wife then I guess we wouldn’t be here now. As it happens, I got to know him first, a long time before we actually spent our first night together.”
         “So what happened at the trial?”
         “Have the jurors reached their decision?” the bailiff asked
         “Yes we have.”
         The lead juror passed the paper to the bailiff who in turn placed it into the hands of the judge. He read the decision written there and placing the paper on his desk, began his closing speech.
         “I think that we can all agree that the prosecution have not been able to prove beyond doubt that the events in question and those leading up to the day in question constitute a clear case of sexual harassment. The paper reads and I quote,
         ‘We the jury have deliberated on the evidence presented to us and believe, that an act of sexual harassment has been committed. On the other hand the prosecution has not been able to prove whether the act was pre-meditated and predatory by the defendant and the defence has not been able to prove whether the complainant encouraged that same act to further her own ends. We recommend therefore that the defendant be admonished for the conduct he displayed. ’ end of quote.
         I for one fully agree with the jury and in turn thank them, for their presence and the care demonstrated, in reaching such a decision.”
Chapter 8
         So now it was all over. Allen Bryant had been transferred to another division, on the other side of town. She had been given sixty days to find another job; the company was paying for any consulting fees and other costs necessary.
         It was day forty-five and she still didn’t have a clearly defined future. She was being treated well enough and was still producing more than anyone else. Her friends were normal, not even a hint of what had happened. Some even thanked her, because conditions had improved so much. There was one girl however, who practically spat at her every time they passed. Later she found out that the girl was pregnant, to Allen Bryant, and hated her for having forced the company to move him to the other division.
         She stared out the window of their lunch room, along the empty block that separated them from the road, out beyond to the dirty buildings and distant horizon. The din in the background subsided a little as she tried to imagine her future. The few interviews that she had been to were positive, up to the moment when they asked about the reasons for the court case. After explaining the circumstances, they almost immediately decided that the interview was over and that they would be in touch. It seemed that nobody wanted a potential trouble maker in their midst.
         She felt at odds with her surroundings. There was something that didn’t quite fit in with her vision of life, the way she felt it ought to be. There was a kind of crudeness, rawness, a feeling that there was more to be had, that she could do better. It wasn’t a complaint against the way she had to work because she respected this necessity. She knew in all of her heart that this life, this work, these people were as necessary as the richest or most powerful men in the universe. She just felt that the time had come for her to contribute in a slightly different manner.
         As she looked more closely she recognized the ever present mist of pollution suspended there. She was reminded once again of the noise from within the room joined with that from the factory and the street outside. She shuddered as she remembered her apartment with its damp walls, peeling paint and noisy neighbours. It was part of her life and had been that way for the last five years, ever since she had moved to the city. In actual fact it was her second home, the first was lost to fire, and that was why she had so many debts, no insurance and the need to get the basics back that she had lost.
         She placed the image from her window deep into her sub-conscious and turned to the calls from her friends.