City Life

The knife glinted at my throat; his eyes skewered into mine. I froze, my words, pleading and desperate, stuck in my mouth. The black hood fell over his face. He brushed it back. I stared into the dark eyes; did I know him? I inched closer to the hedge and my brain kicked free. So did my knee. I thrust up, he doubled over, grunted with the pain. I ran. 

Glad of my trainers for city living I pounded over the pavement towards the lights.

    ‘Stupid, stupid,’ I muttered the words between gasps and vowed to avoid all short cuts in the future. I rounded the corner, out of breath, I looked over my shoulder, the street was empty. 

I had the loveliest flat, the greatest job and the best set of friends. I adored being a city girl. The excitement of fast paced living had enticed me ever since school, but the threat of crime was never far away.

   ‘What did you do?’ Maisie said.

    ‘I ran.’

   ‘You didn’t report it?’

I shook my head.

   ‘I just wanted to get back to the high street.’

She stared at me. ‘you should have reported it. He had a knife Lucy; he could have killed you.’

   ‘But he didn’t’ I said. I spun my seat away and returned to my work on the computer. We didn’t mention it again until the end of the day. As I pulled my coat over my shirt and trousers, Maisie put a hand on my arm.

   ‘I’ll come with you,’ she said. She tucked her arm into mine and guided me towards the beckoning cocktail bar, the one we frequented after work most Thursdays and Fridays.

I looked into my drink, fiddled with the little umbrella decorating the cocktail’s edge and avoided her eyes.

   ‘Lucy, listen to me. If you don’t report it it’s another triumph for some bastard who thinks all women are easy targets and fair game for anything they choose to do, like Jason Butler. Didn’t you hear him the other day boasting about his numerous conquests, I was surprised you weren’t mentioned.’

I shook my head. I’d dated Jason a few times when I first moved up to the city.

   ‘This must be a whole new experience for you Lucy, ‘The Big City.’

I’d nodded and smiled, but when I refused his advances, he changed. 

   ‘You bitch I won’t forget this. If you tell anyone…’

I’d walked away, his words chasing after me. Whether what he’d said had affected me or whether I chose not to say anything, I’ll never know. He left a month later, and I didn’t think I’d see him again.

 The person who attacked me in the alleyway was still out there, Maisie was right. 

   ‘Come on Lucy, you need to tell the police.’

 The following day, after work, we arrived at the police station. I sat fiddling with watch and checking the time.

   ‘It’s going to be fine Lucy, just tell them exactly what happened,’ said Maisie.

I wiped the sweat from my top lip and tried to stop my knee from shaking. The sergeant took my statement and then put his pen down and folded his arms. 

   ‘Didn’t it occur to you that it was rather stupid to use an alleyway as a short cut Miss Weston?’

I blinked a few times, my words stuck in my mouth and Maisie glared at him.

   ‘Are you suggesting sergeant that Lucy should have avoided that particular street because she is female?’

He leaned back in his chair.

   ‘I’m saying Miss Lewis, that alleyways which aren’t well lit are best avoided by anyone.’

I didn’t believe him. He took up his pen again and said,

   ‘What were you wearing Miss Weston?’ 

    ‘What has that got to do with my being attacked?’

   ‘It could be a contributing factor,’ he said.

I described my outfit including the red cropped top and pink trainers. He raised his eyebrows, and, in that moment, I knew my complaint would lie buried under a stack of papers. Maisie and I stood up, I just wanted to leave.

I looked out of my window and stared at the beauty of the sprawling roads and intersections, the towering buildings and the city lights buzzing with excitement. The drone of traffic drifted across the rooftops. The moon hung over the shops and terraces and watched the people laughing and milling about outside the pubs and bars. It gazed at the couples walking through gardens and parks. It was so… alive, all of it. Yet anxiety wormed its way into my life, and no matter how many times I applied my makeup, danced in the clubs, and drank the cocktails, I fancied the figure in the black hood watched my every move. My love of city life began to turn into a compulsion to keep watchful, and I kept feeling someone was always just out of sight. 

Six months later I’d tried hard to put my attack behind me. I was celebrating. My new boss, Sylvia, had given me promotion and a pay rise.  The bar was busy, and the drinks flowed. We laughed and clinked glasses together. Too many drinks later, I looked at the taxi rank. The queue stretched down the road. 

   ‘See you tomorrow Maisie,’ I said, and waved as she left with Adrian her new boyfriend.

   ‘Bye Lucy, take care.’

I looked again at the queue and the pathway by the side of the park. The sporadic lights flanking the pavements and the various individuals walking home alone. The fragrant aromas of magnolia and jasmine, enticed me onto the path and I breathed, remembering for a moment the bushes and flower beds of the cottage I’d shared in the country with my sister. The other people disappeared and the friendly globes lighting the path seemed further apart.  

I heard the footsteps behind me, the flutter of wings in a bush made me flinch, and I stumbled over an uneven stone. The footsteps continued, one after the other matching mine. I increased my pace. My road was close. But as I reached the corner and made to cross over, a hand clamped around my mouth. The man was broader, taller than I, and as I twisted to loosen his grip I recognised the aftershave. His breathing increased and the feel of his hand on my skin nauseated me. I bit into his hand and kicked and fought my way free.

   ‘You bitch, I’m coming for you.’

 I dashed across the road and I fumbled for my key, pushed it into the door and slammed it shut. A foot jarred the door. His breath, heavy and sour, hit my face. I stumbled back into the hall.

   ‘Let me in Lucy, be nice to see you again.…come on don’t be silly. I won’t hurt you. Just want to say ‘hello.’’ The knife shone in his hand.

I scrambled towards the kitchen. He body loomed large. Footsteps clattered down the stairs,

   ‘Lucy…Lucy, you OK?’ 

Heidi, the girl from upstairs heard my screams, saw the knife and phoned the police.

When I saw his name in the newspaper, I felt no relief. I wasn’t the first girl he’d attacked, and Jason Butler wouldn’t be boasting about his conquests again.

Did I wonder about leaving the London life? Yes. 

I hate that the city streets continue to be perilous for women. Jason was only one of many men who believe women are worthless. And like every woman who walks home in fear for her life, I want the city to change. Of course, I want it to be safe. Statistics for knife crime go through the roof and so does rape. But I won’t be chased away by statistics, or those who would send us packing, back to quiet ‘safe’ places.

I walk past the building site and ignore the regular cat calling. In the office I turn deaf ears on the men’s lewd jokes at my expense, the quick brush of a hand across my backside, and the hand on my shoulder that threatens to descend.

   ‘Just innocent fun,’ they say, and turn away joking into their coffees while they swear under their breath.  

I go to work still loving the busy vibrant place that is London, the city in which I live. I still party with my friends wearing my red crop top and pink trainers. But I take a taxi home, carry a rape alarm and now my eyes check shadows and corners where they didn’t before. And I’ve learned distrust. When I’m offered a lift I hesitate, when I’m bought a drink, I watch it being poured, and when he says, ‘You’re pretty,’ I smile and make my excuses.

And I place my candle at Clapham Common, I remember another woman less fortunate than me. And I keep my hate for the violence and injustice against women she now stands for.