‘I know, but I had to see.’

‘But what, Ruth?’ Alex forced tenderness into her tone. ‘What were you hoping to see?’

Ruth gripped the arm of the chair. ‘I want to know why he did what he did. I want to see in his face if he’s sorry, if he’s got any guilt for destroying my life. For destroying me.’

Alex nodded sympathetically but she had to move this along. There was much to achieve in a short time.

‘Do you remember what we talked about last session?’

Ruth’s pinched face became anxious. She nodded.

‘I know how hard this will be for you but it is integral to the healing process. Do you trust me?’

Ruth nodded without hesitation.

Alex smiled. ‘Good, I’ll be here with you. Take me through it from the beginning. Tell me what happened that night.’

Ruth took several deep breaths and fixed her eyes above the desk in the corner. Perfect.

‘It was Friday the seventeenth of February. I’d been to two lectures and had a mountain of study to get through. A few friends were going for drinks in Stourbridge to celebrate something, as students do.

‘We went to a small pub in the town centre. When we left I made my excuses and started home ’cos I didn’t want a hangover.

‘I missed my bus by about five minutes. I tried to get a taxi but it was peak clubbing time on a Friday night. It was a twenty-minute wait and I was only going a mile and a half to Lye so I started walking.’

Ruth paused and took a sip of coffee with a trembling hand. Alex wondered how many times in the years since she wished she’d just waited for the taxi.

Alex nodded for her to continue.

‘I left the taxi rank in the bus station and put my iPod on. It was freezing so I walked quickly and got to Lye High Street in about fifteen minutes. I went into the Spar and grabbed a sandwich because I hadn’t eaten since lunch time.’

Ruth’s breathing quickened and her gaze was unblinking as she recalled what happened next.

‘I kept walking while trying to open the damn plastic container. I never heard a thing, nothing. At first I thought a car had run into the back of me and then I realised that I was being dragged backwards by my backpack. By the time I understood what was going on there was a huge hand covering my mouth. He was behind me so I couldn’t hit him. I kept thrashing but I couldn’t reach him.

‘I felt like I’d been dragged miles but it was only about fifty yards into the darkness of the graveyard at the top of the High Street.’

Alex noted that Ruth’s voice had become distant, clinical, as though reciting an event that had happened to someone else.

‘He stuffed a rag into my mouth and threw me to the ground. My head hit the side of a gravestone and blood ran down my cheek. At the time, he was reaching underneath me to unzip my jeans and all I could think about was the blood. There was so much of it. My jeans had been pulled down to my ankles. He put his foot onto my calf and put his weight on it. I tried to ignore the pain and push myself up. He kicked the right side of my head and then I heard his zip being pulled down and the rustle of his trousers.’

Ruth took a deep breath. ‘It was only then that I realised he was going to rape me. I tried to scream but the rag in my mouth muffled the sound.

‘He ripped off my backpack and then used his knee to spread my legs apart. He lowered himself onto me and thrust himself into my back passage. The pain was so horrendous I couldn’t breathe and the screams couldn’t get past the rag in my mouth. I lost consciousness a couple of times and each time I came back I prayed for death.’

Tears had started to roll down Ruth’s cheeks.

‘Go on.’

‘It seemed to go on for hours and then he was spent. He stood quickly, zipped himself up and bent down. He whispered into my ear, ‘Hope that was good for you, darlin’.’ He kicked me again in the head and was gone. I blacked out and only came to as I was being lifted into the ambulance.’

Alex reached across and squeezed Ruth’s hand. It was ice cold and trembling. Alex hadn’t been listening too closely. This needed to be moved on.

‘How long were you in hospital?’

‘Almost two weeks. The head injuries healed first; apparently head wounds bleed a lot. It was the other thing.’

Ruth was uncomfortable speaking about the other injury, but Alex needed Ruth to feel the pain and humiliation of it all.

‘How many stitches again?’

Ruth winced. ‘Eleven.’

Alex watched Ruth’s jaw grow firm as she recalled the horror in her own private hell.

‘Ruth, I can’t even begin to understand what you’ve been through and I’m sorry for causing you to have to relive it but it’s necessary for your long-term healing.’

Ruth nodded and fixed her with a look of total trust.

‘So, in your own words, what did this monster take from you?’

Ruth thought for a moment. ‘Light.’

‘Go on.’

‘Nothing is light anymore. I have this idea that before that night I viewed everything with light. The world was light, even a dull, thundery day was light, but now it seems that my vision has a filter, making everything darker.

‘Summer days are not as bright, jokes are not as funny, no motives are without agenda. My view of the world and everyone in it, even people I love, is changed for good.’

‘What prompted the suicide attempt?’

Ruth uncrossed and re-crossed her legs. ‘When I saw him I was in shock, initially. I couldn’t believe that he was out so soon, that justice had failed me so miserably, but it was more than that,’ she said, as though finally realising something she hadn’t explored before. ‘It was the realisation that I will never be free of the rage that’s inside me. Pure hatred runs in my veins – and it’s exhausting. I realised that he would always have that hold over me, and that there’s nothing I can do about it. It will only end when one of us dies.’

‘But why should that be you and not him?’

Ruth pondered. ‘Because there’s only one of those options I can control.’

Alex stared at her for a few seconds and then closed her notepad and placed it on the table. ‘Maybe not,’ she said thoughtfully, as though an idea had just occurred to her, when really it was what she’d been heading towards for their entire time together. ‘Would you be prepared to indulge me in an experiment?’

Ruth looked hesitant.

‘Do you trust me?’

‘Of course.’

‘I’d like to try something that I think might help. I think we can give you some light back.’

‘Really?’ Ruth asked, pathetically, hoping for a damn miracle.

‘Absolutely.’ Alex sat forward, her elbows on her knees. ‘Before we start, I need you to understand that this is a visualisation and symbolic exercise.’

Ruth nodded.

‘Okay then, just stare forward and we’ll take a journey together. Put yourself outside the pub where he drinks, but you’re not a victim. You feel strong, confident, righteous. You are not dreading him leaving the pub, you are anticipating it. You have been waiting for this opportunity. You are not skulking in the shadows and you are not frightened.’

Ruth’s back straightened and her jaw inched forward slightly.

‘He exits the pub and you walk a few metres behind. You are not threatening, you are a lone female behind a grown man and you are not afraid. Your hand is wrapped around a knife in your coat pocket. You are confident and in control.’

Alex saw Ruth’s eyes drop to the letter opener, where they stayed. Perfect.

‘At the end of the road he turns into the alley. You wait for the perfect moment when there is no one else around and you speed up. You get within a couple of feet and you say, ‘Excuse me.’ He turns with a surprised expression and you ask if he has the right time.’

Ruth’s breathing had quickened at the thought of coming face to face with her attacker, even in the role play, but she swallowed hard and nodded.