How to Kill Men and Get Away With It(80)

I remember my friend being green with envy when he asked for my number and said he would give me a call when he’d had a word with one of his contacts. It was two days later when he called me. He told me that he’d had a word with a friend of his and he was happy to take some photos of me and help me put together a portfolio.

James even spoke to my mum and arranged for her to be there because I was under 18. We headed to London and I was so excited. Having the photos taken was the best thing ever. We were treated like stars, a car picked us up from the train station. There was food and drink. It was an amazing day, one I’ll never forget.

I actually did get a few modelling jobs off the pictures James organised for me. For two years we stayed in touch, he would text me and tell me how special I was and how I was going to be the next big thing in modelling. He told me not to tell my mum about how often we spoke as she wouldn’t understand what great friends we’d become.

Then, just after my 16th birthday, James texted me about a party he was having in London. I told him there was no way I’d be able to go, Mum would never allow it. He told me to make something up, say I was staying at a friend’s house and he would send a car for me. So I did.

I hated lying to my mum but the party sounded amazing, he kept feeding me little details about who would be there.

Only there was no party.

When the car dropped me at James’s house, it was only him there. I felt uncomfortable right away but he told me to relax and that everyone would start arriving soon. He gave me a glass of champagne and – not wanting to look like a little kid – I drank it.

I really don’t remember much after that. The next thing I knew I was waking up, coming round would be a better term, in a bed. I was totally naked. There was no one else there. And all I was aware of was this stabbing pain between my legs. I managed to drag myself to the en suite and was horrified to see that I was bleeding.

I cried when I realised what had happened. Just curled up on that bathroom floor and cried. I’d been a virgin.

I don’t know how long I was there for but eventually James came in with my clothes. He was acting like nothing had happened. He told me to get dressed and he’d sort a car for me. I was in so much pain and so confused that I just did as he told me.

I was so ashamed. I thought I’d done something to lead him on. But the shame was enough to keep my silence. He didn’t even have to threaten me.

I stopped modelling after that because it reminded me of him. I started suffering from anxiety as well, something I still have to this day, over 15 years later.

I should have told someone. I should have gone to the police. I could have stopped this. I feel responsible for every woman after me.

We sit in silence, trying to process what we’ve read. Charlie’s head is in his hands while I let silent tears run down my face and drip off my chin.

I think about the promise I’d made to myself. The promise that I made to Adam. The safe and happy future I’ve planned with Charlie. But there’s no way I can let James get away with everything, and as Charlie and I sit there, mutely watching the horrific truth unfold, I’m already sharpening the knives in my mind.

James Pemberton. I’m coming for you.





66


KITTY’S APARTMENT, CHELSEA

Hen calls later that afternoon. There’s a sob in her voice as she tells me James has been released on bail.

‘There were so many paps and reporters waiting for him when he came home,’ she says. ‘They were like a pack of animals. I really thought they were going to hurt him. He’s had to go and stay in the Belgravia apartment. We had to send a decoy out in a car so he could be taken there in a van.’

They’ve managed to outfox the media for now who have been broadcasting trees and rolling countryside from the Pembertons’ Surrey Hills home for hours. But it’s only a matter of time until someone finds out where he really is.

‘What happens now?’ I ask her.

‘I don’t know. I really don’t know. The press want blood. We’re all probably going to have to go and stay somewhere else too.’ I hear her mumble to someone else in the background. ‘He’s going to have to do an interview, Mum says, or we’ll be hounded until the trial. Have you seen Twitter?’

‘Yeah. It’s not looking great. There’s not a lot of support.’

This is clearly an understatement: there is no support at all. Twitter is awash with various versions of the fact James has been arrested.

#MeToo #IBelieveHer #JamesPembertonsOverParty #ReclaimTheCharts are all trending and don’t look like they’re going away.

‘Kits, I’ve gotta go. Antoinette’s having a full-scale melt-down. Keep your phone on. I’ll talk to you soon.’

‘Okay. Bye.’

‘Is she okay?’ Charlie says, walking over and wrapping his arms around me.

‘Yeah, well no, but considering everything, she sounds like she’s functioning. Hen is amazingly adept at handling a crisis. I’ve said I’ll leave my phone on in case she needs me though.’ He kisses the base of my neck. ‘I wonder who blew the whistle?’

I turn to look at him. ‘How will this affect the charity?’

He sighs heavily. ‘Well, it won’t be good. Obviously. I’ll need to speak to Kaitlyn who does the PR as we’ll need to put a statement out that we will no longer have him as an ambassador. Which obviously means no money from him.’