The Inconvenient Woman Epilogue: Survivor

It was the evening for the Pulitzer Prizes to be awarded. Clara, Devi, Angela, Lily and Holly were all seated around a table together. Clara was wearing a green dress that Devi had bought her for Christmas, a large pair of earrings, and a ring with a large bright red stone. Devi was wearing a dark blue dress and a simple ring with no stone, and had her hair tied back in a bun. Angela wore a simple red dress, Lily a snazzy green and yellow one, Holly a long black one. Clara felt excited at being at such an important event, though a bit overwhelmed by all those flash cameras.

Finally, the announcement was made:

"And the Pulitzer Prize for Investigative Reporting goes to . . . Holly MacIver and Devi Bose."

Applause from all around the room. Clara beamed as Devi stood up from her seat, only to be surprised when Devi held out her hand to her. After some hesitation, Clara smiled and stood up. She looked back at Angela and Lily, who smiled encouragingly at her, and then she took Devi's hand and walked with her, behind Holly, to the stage. It was unnerving for her to be walking past so many strangers, but a proud moment as well.

Holly accepted the trophy, then stepped up to the podium to deliver her acceptance speech.

"Thank you for the award. I feel very humbled and honoured to receive this tonight. Well, in the last few months we have seen some quite extraordinary events: the White House Chief of Staff sentenced to prison, a President removed by impeachment for the first time in our history, less than five months after a landslide election victory, then being expelled from his own party, and now being investigated by the FBI for misuse of public funds. We have brought down the entire house of cards. I suppose we can take heart that at least one of our great parties has not been completely taken over by an authoritarian populist, but we must always be aware of those who seek to abuse their power, or use it for their own gain. We should always be fearless in exposing such people: the health of our democracy depends on it. No matter what the consequences are for ourselves, we must always investigate wrongdoing by those in power. There should be no place for those who would suck up to corrupt politicians, or for cowards, in the press pack or in our editors' offices. But above all, it is up to those in the White House and on Capitol Hill to make sure that never again can a Crawley emerge to poison our political system. I hope that President Liu understands this, but if she does not, she can be sure that I will hold her feet to the fire at the White House press briefing. Thank you."

Long and loud applause followed. Holly stepped back from the podium, and Devi strode forward to take her place, though it was several minutes before the applause died down sufficiently to enable her to speak.

"Thank you, Holly", she began. "I am happy that you took me under your wing and for the guidance you have given me. I am very proud to share this award with you. But now, ladies and gentlemen, I would like to hand the mike over to a very special person. They tried everything to silence her: rape, intimidation, abduction, attempted murder, blackmail, slander . . . but she rose above all that to tell the truth in court, and was able to prove that she was telling the truth. She is, quite simply, the bravest person I have ever met. Ladies and gentlemen, please give it up for Clara Hewson!"

The crowd roared. Blushing, Clara slowly made her way towards the podium on wobbly legs. Once she had got there, she took a deep breath: all these strangers there, how would they react? But she cleared her throat and began her speech, her voice slightly shaking.

"Well, you all know what happened to me. There were times in those awful days when Trampler kept coming to my apartment and raping me, when I wondered if I would ever be happy again, if I would ever be able to go out again, to see Devi . . ." She looked over her shoulder at the smiling Devi, then continued in a choking voice.

"To be constantly raped, shouted at, for him to always call me bitch . . . I felt so awful, so horrible, so helpless. And then, to be tied up in a van, to be told I was going to be killed, I just don't have words for how horrible that was. The long hours of being driven to that place in Virginia, then hearing him dig my grave, then thinking he would spare me only to then have to run from the van, from him . . . it really messed up with my mind. And then, in court, to be called a liar, for him to attack and threaten me again . . . But", she added, now in a more confident voice, "I am so happy and grateful that I had people to help me on the way, to help me get justice. I would like to thank Holly", here she turned round and pointed to an embarrassed-looking Holly, "Commissioner Russell, Officers Grundy and Rodriguez, and Monica Gonzalez, for the help you gave me. I would like to thank Angela and Lily, for always being there for me. And lastly I would like to give thanks to Devi, my beautiful fiancee, for being my rock: I will always love you." Clara looked back at Devi as she said those last five words: Devi was smiling her broadest smile, and her eyes were sparkling - she looked more beautiful than ever, Clara thought. 

"I couldn't have done this without any of you. And one more thing,", she concluded, a distinct note of pride in her voice, "Crawley and Trampler said I was an inconvenient woman. But look where there are now, and look where I am. While Crawley isn't President any more, and Trampler rots in jail, I'm a survivor."

The crowd cheered loudly again: Clara watched in astonishment as one by one they all got to their feet to applaud her. She searched the crowd for Angela and Lily and found them, both with joyful expressions on their faces. She felt someone take her hand: she looked around, and, yes, it was Devi, smiling with pride, joy and love. She had never felt as happy or as proud in her life.

The Inconvenient Woman Chapter 10: Judgement Day

The sole defence witness stood up and began shuffling his way towards the witness stand: as he did so, his lawyer whispered to him:

"Please, Dave, remember to keep your temper".

Trampler gave a resentful grunt in response before sitting down and taking the oath. Clara willed herself to look at him, determined not to be intimidated by him again.

"Did you abduct Ms. Clara Hewson?", was Conti's first question.

"No", replied Trampler in a flat voice.

"Did you attempt to murder Ms. Hewson?"

"No."

"Have you ever met Ms. Hewson?"

"No."

In answer to further questions, Trampler told the court that he had indeed hired the van and bought the ropes and spade found at the scene, but that these were to help a friend fill in a hole near his driveway: the rope was to be used to lower himself into the hole.

Clara felt her anger beginning to build once again, but was startled out of her thoughts by a strange noise. She turned her head, and saw that Lily was uncontrollably laughing out loud: she was rocking back and forth in her seat, and tears were streaming down her face. Soon it seemed the whole courtroom was staring at her.

"Enough!", shouted Judge Scales, angrily banging his gavel. "Ms. Watkins, how dare you make such an exhibition in my courtroom! You will stop right now or you will be removed from the court!"

With great difficulty, Lily managed to stop herself laughing, though she had to cover her mouth to do so.

Clara's fury returned.

"How can he tell such lies!", she whispered to Devi. "Come up with such garbage like that!"

"Be hopeful, Clara", Devi assured her. "His story is so ridiculous the jury is bound to see through it."

Monica got to her feet and inched her way towards Trampler.

"Mr. Trampler", she began, speaking slowly and methodically, "did you and Mr. Conti hold meetings in the County Line?"

"Yes", replied Trampler, in the same monotone he had used in his answers to Conti.

"The bar where Ms. Hewson works?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

"So how is it then that you have never met her?"

Trampler did not answer.

"Did you ever get angry with Ms. Hewson when you were in the County Line?", Monica pressed him.

"I was angry that she was poking her nose in", said Trampler, the slightest note of irritation starting to creep into his voice.

"Did you ever come up with a plan to silence Ms. Hewson?"

"I did not."

"Mr. Trampler, you are aware, are you not, that Ms. Hewson, Ms. Bose, Ms. Brown and Ms. Watkins have all told this court that Ms. Hewson never went out during the six-week period when she claims you abused her?"

"Of course", said Trampler, with slightly more irritation.

"And that the defence has not challenged this evidence?"

"Yes."

"And that you apparently accept that during this same period Ms. Hewson was uncharacteristically shy and subdued?"

"Yes."

"What explanation can you think of for such unusual behaviour?"

"How am I supposed to know that? Ask her instead". Trampler glared at Clara as he said those words: Clara determinedly stared back, though her heart began to beat a little faster.

Monica turned round to face the prosecution table for a moment or two, then she turned round and asked:

"Now, regarding your journey to Virginia, why would you drive to such a remote location if you were going to a friend's house?"

"I must have lost my way."

"Why did you set out at night if you were going to do a repair job?"

"How can you prove that?", asked Trampler defiantly.

"It is confirmed by the timing of your phone call to the President", replied Monica: Trampler was open mouthed.

"Why would the van end up 10 feet from the roadside?", Monica next asked.

"I can only repeat, I lost my way." Trampler's annoyance was getting increasingly obvious.

"How likely is it, Mr. Trampler, that you would not know the location of your friend's house?"

No answer.

"If you will not answer that question, maybe you can tell the jury why you have not called anyone to back up your story?"

Again, no answer: Trampler merely scowled at Monica.

Clara was beginning to feel increasingly optimistic. Monica was doing a splendid job, easily exposing Trampler's lies. Clara could not help but feel a good deal of schadenfreude over his failure to answer the last two questions.

Monica next led Trampler, point by point, through Clara's testimony, repeatedly asking Trampler if it was really plausible that all the details Clara had given - his loud knocks on her door, the feeling of his stubble brushing against her, the tightness of the rope that had bound her - could be lies. As she did so, Trampler became increasingly angry, snapping at Monica as he answered her questions and throwing threatening looks at Clara, earning him repeated warnings from the judge. Clara found herself struggling to remain collected.

Finally, Monica reached her last question:

"Mr. Trampler, Ms. Hewson's testimony is corroborated in certain aspects by Ms. Bose, Ms. Brown, Ms. Watkins and Mr. Morris. How do you think their stories could match up if it were all lies?"

"Bullshit!", bellowed Trampler at the top of his voice. "Utter fucking bullshit! That little bitch just wants compensation from me! She's a fucking no-good liar with no respect for me or the President! Something needs to be done about her!" He glared at Clara and shouted, "I'm coming for you, bitch! Just you wait!"

"Mr. Trampler", said the judge sternly, "what a disgraceful performance! I will not have such disrespectful, threatening behaviour in my courtroom! You will stand down immediately."

"Wow", mocked Lily, "he thinks he's King of the World or something! Any louder and he would've broken the windows!"

Clara was shaking: images of a triumphant Trampler, walking free from court and then strangling her, stabbing her, shooting her, whatever he might choose to do, ran through her mind.

"It's OK, Clara", said Angela, embracing her. "We'll always be there for you, no matter what that scumbag does."

"Don't worry, Clara, he'll definitely get convicted now", said Devi, stroking Clara's hair. "After that horrible rant . . . juries just don't like that kind of behaviour. You got him, Clara."

Clara tried to smile, but she could not.

At the back of the courtoom, Clementina had been shocked by Trampler's behaviour. To threaten Clara like that, what a horrible man he truly was. And what a ridiculous story he had told. He had to be guilty, he just had to.

A nervous-looking Conti got to his feet to deliver his closing speech, insisting that that Clara's story was riddled with inconsistencies and so could not be true. Then it was Monica's turn, methodically going through all the evidence the jury had heard, and pouring scorn on Trampler's defence. She ended by reminding the jury of his threatening outburst:

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, however the defence may wish to convince you otherwise, I think you have seen for yourselves the type of man that Mr. Trampler is."

Finally the judge summed up.

"The most important prosecution witness by far is Ms. Hewson", he emphasised. "Unless you are satisfied beyond reasonable doubt that she is telling the truth, you cannot convict the defendant."

After reminding the jury that any verdict must be unanimous, he sent them into the jury room to begin their deliberations. Clara was trembling: even searching on her phone for stories about exoplanets, even her friends' best efforts to comfort her, could not calm her nerves.

After less than an hour, it was announced that the jury was returning. Clara looked up from her phone, with the same horrible feeling as on the night Trampler had tried to kill her.

"Have you reached a verdict?", Judge Scales asked.

"Yes, Your Honour", replied the foreman, speaking very slowly. "We the jury find the defendant, David Ronald Trampler, guilty as charged."

Clara broke down in tears. After everything she had suffered, she had done it, she had been proved right, she had been vindicated, she had at last got justice. Angela held her arms out and Clara fell into them, crying on Angela's shoulder. She could hear Trampler shouting something, and the banging of the gavel and the annoyed shouts of the judge, but she could not make out what they were saying, nor did she care. Angela hugged Clara tightly, before Clara broke off and hugged Lily, who was dancing a jig. Then Clara turned and looked into the smiling face of Devi: Clara squeezed Devi to her and kissed her with all the passion and the energy that she could muster.

"You did it, Clara", whispered Devi, once Clara could kiss her no more.

"No, we did it", Clara corrected her, before beginning another bout of kissing.

After Clara once again had to pause for breath, she noticed Monica holding out her hand.

"Congratulations, Clara", she said: Clara vigorously shook her hand and thanked her profusely.

She also shook hands with and thanked Officers Grundy and Rodriguez. She was now feeling exhausted, both physically and emotionally: Devi embraced Clara and rolled her around in her arms, something Clara enjoyed very much.

After about five minutes, order was finally restored to the courtroom. Judge Scales sentenced Trampler to 50 years to life in prison. As the convicted man was led down the aisle, Lily pointed at him.

"You're not so big now are you?", she mocked.

"She beat you! She beat you!", shouted Angela, giving Trampler a look of hatred and satisfaction.

"She hit you for six!", Devi chimed in, a condescending expression on her face.

Unlike her friends, Clara did not look at Trampler. Why should she? He was nothing to her now, nothing at all. She was now safe from him forever.

Clara and Devi left the courtroom hand in hand, Angela and Lily closely behind. Just outside the entrance, Clara gasped: her mother was standing there. Devi noticed her too, and there was a long, uncomfortable silence.

"What are you here for?", demanded Devi haughtily.

"Well", answered Clementina awkwardly, "I'm here to make up to Clara."

Clara stared at her mother.

"I know now you were telling the truth", Clementina continued. "That story he told, no one could believe that, and that horrible moment when he attacked you. Also, the jury has found him guilty, so your story must be true."

"You've taken a long time to come round to it", said Devi scornfully, but Clara flung herself around her mother's neck. That her mother finally believed her, that they could talk to each other again, just made the moment even sweeter. Her happiness was complete.

The Inconvenient Woman Chapter 9: Her Day in Court

"What's wrong, Clara?", inquired Angela.

Clara, Devi, Angela and Lily were all standing in a lengthy queue, waiting for their annual COVID-19 vaccine.

"Are you OK, Clara?", asked Devi, putting her arm around Clara's shoulders.

"Is it because of the Nationals losing the pennant?", teased Lily.

But it was not the Washington Nationals losing 4-0 to the LA Dodgers in the National League Championship Series that was bothering Clara.

"No", she sighed heavily. "It's not that, it's the election."

All three looked at her quizzically.

"Crawley's gonna win, ain't he?", Clara continued.

"I never thought you were into politics, Clara", remarked Devi with a surprised smile.

"You're turning into Angela, Clara!", laughed Lily: Angela threw her an irritated look.

"I'm not", Clara replied, answering Devi and ignoring Lily, "but I've always been a Democrat, my Mom's always voted for them, and so did all our neighbours when I was growing up, so I kinda went with the flow. But I really don't want Crawley to get in again, so could you please, for me, not vote for him?"

Angela smiled sadly at Clara. "I understand how you feel, Clara", she said, but it's not as if the other guy is any better . . ."

Angela pointed to a giant screen across the street, about 20 feet above their heads: Clara had to seriously stretch her neck to see. The screen was showing the previous night's rally by Bradley Markiewicz, Senator for Florida and the Republican Party's presidential nominee. A tall, blond, broad-shouldered man, Markiewicz was holding out his arms, lapping up the applause and the cheers from an adoring crowd, many of them wearing tattered and worn baseball caps inscribed with the words "Make America Great Again".

"And so", Markiewicz pronounced, once the hall had quietened down, "in my first act as President, I shall designate Black Lives Matter as a domestic terrorist organisation."

Loud cheers resulted: a black man, sitting in full view of the cameras, enthusiastically waved a "Blacks for Bradley" placard.

"And all its leaders and all members of Congress who support it", continued Markiewicz, "shall be thrown into jail."

More cheers.

"For too long have these Marxists stirred up trouble for this great country, for too long have they attacked our brave police officers, for too long have they tried to subvert our political and economic system, and all with the full support of the Democrats. No more. Once I take the Oath of Office, all this will stop, folks. Forever."

The crowd roared its approval.

"And as for that Angela Brown . . ." Loud boos greeted the mention of Angela's name: it was a couple of minutes before Markiewicz could resume his speech. "Maybe the prison barber can get rid of those ugly lumps in her hair. That'll teach her to attack the police in the heart of our capital!"

Deafening roars and chants of "Bradley! Bradley! Bradley!" Angela involuntarily touched her braids. Clara was horrified: Devi looked disgusted, Lily shocked.

"And also", Markiewicz concluded, "I shall change our immigration laws so that we take in more people from countries with higher GDP. That'll make sure we only get people who will work hard and fit in well with us! I'll also completely ban abortion. There will be no more baby murders once I become President! Thank y'all."

The crowd gave him a standing ovation: the hall shook to chants of "USA! USA! USA!".

"Well", said Devi, her voice shaking, "I don't think we've ever had a worse choice than this year. On the one hand, a corrupt President who sanctions murder, on the other . . ."

"A racist", spat Angela.

"But please", begged Clara, "if you can't vote for him, can you please . . ."

"Do you really think, Clara", smiled Devi indulgently, "that I would vote for Crawley, after what he did to you?"

"Have you voted before?", asked Angela.

"Yes", replied Devi. "I'm a Democrat and so are my parents, we voted for Crawley four years ago. Which obviously I regret now", she hastily added, after Angela threw a disapproving look. "though to be fair, it was either him or the Trump gang. I'll abstain this time, I think, and I'll try and get my parents to do the same."

"Well I've never voted for either of them", said Angela proudly. "I've always abstained, and I'll do that this year as well."

"And what about you, Lily?", asked Clara pleadingly.

"I'll abstain as well", replied Lily. "I couldn't vote for Crawley, not after what's happened to you."

But there was little doubt that Crawley would win a second term. He had always been very popular, owing to his good looks and his folksy charm, to the booming economy, and to the many jobs that had been created under his Back to Work programme. In addition, while Markiewicz excelled at firing up an cheering Republican crowd, he was rather less sure-footed in the more testing environment of the televised debates. He responded to any uncomfortable questions with barely concealed irritation, unlike Crawley, whose reaction was to smile and make light of it. In contrast to the jovial Crawley, Markiewicz was a stiff and awkward performer. He was easily angered, and Crawley made sure, in every debate, to get under his skin: every time he tried this, Markiewicz would angrily lash out at his opponent, and a beaming Crawley would address the audience directly, remarking how this proved that Markiewicz was unfit to be President. Crawley easily won all three debates, and he also enjoyed far more favourable media coverage, partly owing to the long years he had spent winning them over, and partly because of Markiewicz's extremist views.

Sure enough, when Election Night came, Crawley swept the board not just in reliable Democratic strongholds such as New York, California and - of course - Washington, DC - but in all the swing states, such as Michigan, Georgia and Arizona, winning by a landslide. His margin of victory was so comprehensive that Markiewicz, who had repeatedly claimed that only fraud could deprive him of victory, was forced to concede just hours after polls closed. In addition, riding on the back of Crawley's popularity, the Democrats won comfortable majorities in both Houses of Congress.

"The silent majority has spoken, and they are on our side", boasted Crawley in his acceptance speech. "After months of the most horrible lies against an innocent man, we have prevailed. Tonight we have seen that, in America, elections are decided by the American people, and not by liars, vengeful girlfriends or fake news reporters."

The noise of the crowd was so loud that Crawley's lectern vibrated.

"I mean", Crawley continued in a mocking tone, "the holes in her story were so obvious, she would have us all believe that Dave would be interested in her? Or that he was able to do whatever he wanted to her, yet, when she felt like it, she ran away from him? Or that a van driver would just come along for her and pick her up? What utter garbage! But then", he added, "she doesn't seem to be good at much, so it's not surprising she's not a good liar either!"

He burst out laughing, and the crowd sent up the chant "Clara sucks! Clara sucks!".

Clara and Devi watched the election results unfold on TV. Clara buried her head in her hands as the results came in. How was this even possible? After all she had experienced, and the American people would not believe her? Devi, who switched off the TV in disgust as soon as Crawley began attacking Clara, tried to assure her that this was not a judgement on her, but a response to the Crawley's personal popularity, the state of the economy and the Back to Work programme, as well as progressive voters' revulsion at Markiewicz, but this brought Clara no comfort.

By contrast, Clementina whooped with joy when the results were confirmed, and cracked open a bottle of champagne.

20th January, Inauguration Day. Crawley confidently strode down the steps of the Capitol Building, placed his hand on his large, ornate Bible, and took the Oath of Office:

"I, Thomas John Crawley, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States. So help me God."

In the course of his second inaugural speech, Crawley remarked, "There is someone I wish was here today but sadly can't be, because of lies and a rigged police investigation", and called out, "Hang on in there Dave, you will soon be free and back working for me."

But all of Crawley's blustering could not prevent the forward march of justice: just a fortnight after his inauguration, Clara, Devi, Angela and Lily alighted from a bus on Indiana Avenue. Clara could not forget the unpleasant experience she had had the previous occasion she had visited this place, but they were not heading to the police station now. Instead their destination was the nearby H Carl Moultrie Courthouse, headquarters of the Superior Court of the District of Columbia. Inside, they were greeted by Officers Grundy and Rodriguez, who introduced them to a smiling, dark haired woman of about the same height as Clara.

"I assume you are Clara Hewson?", she asked.

"Yes", said Clara tentatively.

"Pleased to meet you", said the stranger, offering her hand. "I'm Monica Gonzalez, and I'll be the prosecuting counsel in this case.

"OK", said Clara, in a wary tone.

"You'll be all right with her, Clara", Devi assured her. "Holly's told me about her, she's very big on fighting the abuse of women. You couldn't have asked for anyone better."

Feeling slightly more confident, Clara shook Monica's hand: Monica then shook hands with Devi, Angela and Lily, who all introduced themselves. They all then walked up the narrow aisle of the courtroom, before Monica and the two police officers sat down at a table on the right hand side of the aisle, in front of the front row of seats. Clara sat down in the middle of the front row, with Devi on her right, Angela on her left, and Lily sitting next to Angela. Clara looked all around the courtroom, wondering what type of paint had been used on the walls. Then she noticed, in front of the seats on the left hand side of the aisle, another table, and there she saw Dave Trampler, with Brian Conti sitting next to him. Clara froze: images flashed through her head of him barking insults at her, violating her, dragging her into the van, running after her. She pointed him out to her friends, who did their best to assure her that he could not harm her in here.

Holly was sitting in the press gallery: as the other reporters arrived, she threw a cold glance at those who had written favourably about Crawley, and had ignored or played down Clara's story. Clementina sat towards the back of the courtroom, still as convinced as ever that her daughter was a liar.

Suddenly, the murmurings of the spectators were rudely interrupted by a shout from the clerk:

"Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! Today is the opening day of The District of Columbia v David Ronald Trampler. The Honourable Judge Mervyn Scales presiding."

Clara looked up and saw a bald, frowning, well-built man taking his place on a raised bench against the back wall. A jury of seven men and five women was empanelled, and then Monica gave her opening speech, telling the jury of the witnesses she was going to call, and of how, once they had heard all the evidence, they could have no reasonable doubt that Dave Trampler was guilty of the abduction and attempted murder of Clara Hewson.

Officers Grundy and Rodriguez were the first witnesses, both testifying that they had been assigned to the case by Commissioner Russell, that they had then interviewed Clara, and arrested Trampler. In cross examination, Conti questioned them about whether Clara's interview with Holly had influenced them: they replied that they had never read the story, and had simply followed Russell's instructions. They were followed by the man who had rented the van to Trampler: Monica showed him photographs of the van recovered from the Piedmont Plateau, and he readily identified it as the one that Trampler had hired, noting that the registration number was the same. Those who had sold the ropes and spade were the next to take the stand. Conti attempted to suggest to all three of these witnesses that Trampler was not the man they had seen, but they all positively identified him, noting that he was easy to recognise. Mr. Morris the van driver told the court how he had picked up a young woman near the Piedmont early in the morning of 5th July 2032, the day after the crime: Monica then asked a nervous Clara to stand up, and Mr. Morris agreed that she resembled the woman in question. Conti elicited from him that the young woman had not told him her name or what had had happened to her, but he was confident that she had been genuinely distressed by something.

Devi, Angela and Lily were next, all of them giving evidence about how they had found out about Trampler's abusive behaviour towards Clara, and how she had told them of his attempt to kill her. Devi and Angela both became quite angry in their testimony, and Monica had to gently remind them to remain calm in order to impress the jury. In his cross-examination of Devi, Conti seized on her evidence that she had suggested to Clara that she go public with her story, putting it to Devi that she had encouraged Clara to lie about Trampler in revenge for his having stolen her girlfriend. Devi furiously denied this, making no secret of her contempt for Conti, and both Angela and Lily corroborated her testimony that Clara had told them about the crime before she had told Devi.

"We need to come up with something different, Dave", whispered Conti after he returned to the defence table.

Clementina was feeling confused. She could not deny that the prosecution evidence was looking impressive, but she still clung firm to her belief in Trampler's innocence: let's see what the defence evidence is, she told herself.

Clara was starting to feel hopeful, but then she heard the clerk's voice booming out:

"Clara Amelia Hewson."

Clara was shaking as she got up from her seat.

"Good luck, Clara. Be brave", Devi advised her, planting an encouraging kiss on Clara's lips.

"Don't let that Conti get to you", said Angela, hugging Clara.

"You'll be OK, Clara", smiled Lily.

Clara tried to smile, but it was difficult: she slowly shuffled over to the witness stand. She could feel the eyes of everyone in the courtroom, all these strangers, bearing down on her. The idea of telling her story in such a public setting was daunting, but it had to be done, if there was to be justice. She sat down on a chair next to the bench, and took the oath to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Going through her experiences for what she desperately hoped would be the last time, Clara, in answer to Monica's questions, told the court the whole story from her first encounter with Trampler to her interview with Grundy and Rodriguez. At first she spoke in barely more than a whisper, and Monica had to gently ask her to speak up so the jury could hear her. Gradually, Clara grew more confident, though she had to do her best to avoid Trampler's intimidating glare, and also struggled when having to talk about her brush with death.

Clara felt relieved when her evidence came to an end, but then she saw Conti stand up and walk over towards her.

"Ms. Hewson", he said deliberately, "you say that you were in a relationship with Ms. Bose, is that correct?"

"Yes", replied Clara: she felt annoyed but did her best to sound polite.

"And you are still together, are you not?", he asked.

"Of course", said Clara, fighting to remain calm.

"And do you enjoy each other?", inquired Conti.

"What do you mean?", asked Clara, feeling both baffled and irritated.

"Answer the question, Ms. Hewson", commanded Judge Scales.

"I mean", said Conti, "do you enjoy making out together?"

"Objection, Your Honour". Monica had got to her feet. "This question is completely irrelevant to the case."

"Overruled", said Scales. "The witness must answer every question put to her."

"But he's asking me about my private life, You Honour", pleaded Clara. "Why should I have to answer that?"

"Because, Ms. Hewson, if he thinks your private life is important to his client's defence, he has the right and the duty to ask you about it, and you must answer."

"But it's uncomfortable for me."

"That's not my concern. My concern is to enable both sides to put their case as they see fit. Proceed, Mr. Conti."

Monica sat down, shaking her head: Clara could see Trampler smirking at her.

"I shall resume, Ms. Hewson", said Conti. "Do you and Ms. Bose enjoy making out?"

"I suppose we do", sighed Clara, now just desperate for the cross-examination to end.

"And what is your favourite position?"

"You shouldn't ask me that." Clara's voice was trembling with anger.

"The judge said you should answer my every question", Conti reminded her. "But as you have decided not to answer that one I think we'll let it pass."

Despite herself, Clara noticed that Conti seemed to be rather awkward with his brief: he was pacing up and down, looking at the floor, and seemed mightily relieved to move on to a different line of questioning.

"You are positive that you know Mr. Trampler?", he asked.

"Yes", said Clara, who was now finding it harder than ever to keep a lid on things.

"He definitely came to your apartment?"

"Yes."

"But how would he know where it is?"

"I don't know."

"You admit you don't know?"

"How am I supposed to know that? But he did come to my apartment."

"And he raped you, you say?"

"Yes", said the increasingly exasperated Clara: she was annoyed by the words "you say".

"And he stopped you going out to the County Line?"

"Yes."

"And he stopped you seeing Ms. Bose?"

"Yes."

"And, one night, he kidnapped you?"

"Yes."

"And he tied you up in a van?"

"Yes."

"And he told you he would kill you?"

"Yes."

"What reason could he possibly have to want to kill you?"

"I've already said, he had seen me reading the article, and he knew about me and Devi."

Conti went on, demanding that Clara confirm every detail of that night. Finally, he said to her:

"I put it to you that you have never spoken to Mr. Trampler in your life."

"I wish I hadn't, but I have."

"I put it to you that you are lying to get compensation from Mr. Trampler."

"I am not!". Clara could no longer stop herself from shouting. The judge hammered away with his gavel, repeatedly shouting "Ms. Hewson! Ms. Hewson!", but Clara was past caring.

"I told the truth!", she shouted. "Everything! Everything I have said is the truth! That man", she pointed an accusing finger at Trampler, "he raped me, he kidnapped me, he tried to kill me! Please believe me", she added, turning to the jury box, "I told the truth, please believe me!"

"Order in the court!", shouted Judge Scales, still banging the gavel. "Ms. Hewson, you have given a disgraceful exhibition of yourself today! No respect at all for this court! You should be ashamed of yourself!"

"Please, Your Honour", said Clara, "please believe me, I told the truth, and after all I've been through . . ."

"That is for the jury to decide. And even if you are telling the truth, whatever you may or may not have gone through, there is no excuse for you to behave like that. Any further questions, Mr. Conti?"

"No, Your Honour."

"Right then, court is adjourned."

Clara saw Conti walking back to a grinning Trampler: she then glanced at the jurors, and saw frowns on their faces. She got up from the witness stand and joined her friends and Monica as they left the courtroom.

"I'm so sorry I messed it up, Monica", said Clara abashedly. "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that, and now we've lost."

"Well", said Monica, who was clearly trying to be as tactful as possible, "I understand how you felt on that stand, Clara, but I'm afraid you're right. So many times I've seen a man accused of rape or battery or attempted murder walk free, because the woman did not 'behave herself' in court."

"But why should she 'behave herself' after all that's happened to her, and when she's being so horribly slandered?", demanded Angela angrily.

"Because", sighed Monica, "I'm afraid that's the way the world is. It shouldn't be that way but it is."

"Well it's not right", said Angela. "You were absolutely right to say what you did, Clara."

"You came across well, Clara", said Devi. "You came across as a truthful witness defending yourself against slander."

"Are you sure?", inquired Clara doubtfully.

"Of course", smiled Devi. "And remember, Clara, he accused you of lying to get compensation."

"Of course I remember it", said Clara, seething.

"But before that", Devi continued, "he was claiming that I was the one who had made it all up, to get revenge on Trampler, remember. The defence has changed tack, Clara, and the jury will notice that and they won't like it. Have faith, Clara."

Clara wasn't so sure.

The Inconvenient Woman Chapter 8: Trolls

When Clara went into work the next day, she found, to her surprise, the customers all staring at her. She felt rather discomforted by this, and asked Angela why they were doing it.

"Because of your interview of course", replied Angela. "It's gone viral."

"You've got famous, Clara", smiled Lily.

Angela then pointed to the TV screen: Clara gasped as she saw that the CNN reporters seemed to be talking of nothing else but the interview, discussing its content, how it chimed with previous allegations against Trampler, and what it might mean for President Crawley. Also mentioned was the White House response: a terse statement had been released denying Clara's claims, and dismissing Holly as a reporter with a well-known grudge against the President. It was also mentioned that Holly's White House pass had been revoked, on the grounds that she had left the Washington Post and so her existing pass was no longer valid, and that Holly had responded by pointing out that she had left the Post a week earlier and had still been able to use her pass afterwards.

Throughout the day, every customer Clara served brought up the interview: most were supportive, expressing sympathy for her ordeal, complimenting her on her bravery or remarking that they had always thought there was something dodgy about Trampler. Clara felt embarrassed by these comments but also appreciative. But there were also a minority who took a different view, who called her a liar or an attention seeker, or who asked why she had suddenly decided to attack the popular Crawley. One man called her a "Republican whore": Clara tried her best to ignore most of the insults, but this remark so upset her that she had to be comforted by Angela.

When the day's shift ended, Clara was glad to find Devi waiting for her outside, as was always the case now. Devi beamed with pride when Clara told her about the impact of the interview.

"This is just the beginning, Clara", she said. "This thing'll snowball, and there's nothing Crawley or Trampler can do to stop it. This'll get real big, and the authorities'll have to take action sooner or later. Justice is coming, Clara."

It didn't take Clara long to realise just how right Devi was. Almost every day it seemed, women's rights campaigners staged demonstrations supporting Clara and demanding that Trampler be brought to justice. When Clara got time off work, Devi and Angela encouraged her to speak at one of the rallies: Clara was reluctant, but eventually agreed.

The march set off on a warm Saturday afternoon. Clara and her friends walked at the head of the demonstration: Devi and Angela between them held a banner proclaiming "JUSTICE FOR CLARA". Clara felt daunted at the prospect of having to give a speech. All too soon, it seemed, they reached the place, opposite the White House, where Angela had spoken at the Black Lives Matter rally. This is it, thought Clara, who now felt positively terrified. Angela embraced her.

"Be strong, Clara", she urged. "It'll be all right. And you must do this, for justice."

"You'll be fine, Clara", said Devi, stroking Clara's hair. "Nothing to worry about."

Clara smiled weakly, and, as slowly as she could manage, climbed up the steps to the rostrum. She constantly glanced down at the paper she was holding, containing the words she had written, with considerable help from Devi and Angela. She finally reached the top and looked around: she was both nervous and pleased to see that a large crowd had gathered. There must be thousands of people there, tens of thousands, maybe even millions . . . She looked at the placards the marchers were carrying, with slogans like "#METOO", "BELIEVE THE SURVIVOR", "ARREST TRAMPLER", "I BELIEVE CLARA" and - the one which heartened her the most - "DEMOCRATIC WOMEN FOR CLARA". She took several deep breaths and began her speech.

"Thank you all for coming here today. It was just two months ago that Dave Trampler entered my life. I never wanted him, and now I wish I had never seen him or heard of him. But he did come, and he raped me, insulted me, called me bitch, looked at my social media accounts, stopped me from going out at night, or from seeing my girlfriend. Then, barely two weeks ago, I was kidnapped from outside of my apartment as I was walking home from work. I was tied up in a van, and driven off to Virginia in the dead of night. I had to listen to Trampler tell me he was going to kill me, and then I also had to listen to him dig my grave while I was still in the van."

There were gasps of horror and angry shouts from the crowd. Clara could not clearly hear what they were saying: she was in tears. It took about five minutes for her to gather herself, but then she continued, with a heavy catch in her voice.

"Somehow - I'm not sure how - I managed to persuade him to let me go, but he then drove the van towards me, still Hell-bent on killing me. I ran, he drove the van into the grave he had dug for me . . ."

Loud cheers came: Clara smiled and waited for the tumult to die down.

". . . he then ran after me, but I somehow escaped."

More loud cheers, and chants of "Clara! Clara!" went up from the crowd. Clara simply could not take it in: these complete strangers were supporting her, cheering her, even chanting her name. She briefly wondered why, but she was just glad that they were on her side: that was all that mattered to her.

"So", she went on, "a van driver gave me a lift back home, and I went to the cops, but they wouldn't believe me, made some horrible sexist jokes about me."

The crowd booed angrily.

"They wouldn't listen to me, they wouldn't give me justice", Clara repeated, "so that's why we're here today, to call for justice. I want Trampler to stand trial, in a court of law, and then we will see who is telling the truth. Once again, thank you all so much."

The crowd burst into loud applause and more chants of Clara's name. Clara smiled awkwardly, then hurriedly made her way back down the steps, and flung herself into Angela's arms. There was no need for Angela to say anything: her warm, tight embrace was enough comfort for Clara. When Angela eventually released Clara from the hug, Clara found herself face to face with the smiling Devi, who hugged and kissed her, telling her:

"You were so brave, Clara."

Clara responded by fiercely kissing Devi.

The next day that Clara was in work, a knock sounded on the door of the County Line and a short, stocky man with dark hair entered.

"Excuse me", he announced, "does Ms. Clara Hewson work here?"

Clara froze in fright. "Who is that man?", she whispered to Angela.

"It's Richard Russell, the District of Columbia Police Commissioner", Angela whispered back.

Feeling slightly encouraged but also wary, Clara spoke, in a halting voice:

"I'm Clara Hewson, sir."

Then, unsure of how this would sound, she asked:

"How do you know where I work, sir?"

Russell smiled at her.

"It was mentioned in your interview with Holly MacIver", he replied.

"Why are you here, anyway?", demanded Angela.

Russell looked affronted, but his tone was respectful.

"I'm here to speak to Ms. Hewson about opening up a police investigation into David Trampler."

Clara's heart leapt, but Angela was still frowning.

"And how can we trust that you will investigate it? Do you know the horrible things your cops said to Clara before? Do you know that your cops killed my brother and molested my sister?", she said: she spoke the last sentence with a lot of emotion.

Russell spoke very slowly in reply, as though carefully trying to find the appropriate words.

"I'm very sorry to hear about that, Ms . . ."

"Angela Brown."

"Ms. Brown", Russell continued, in the same cautious tone, "I know what happened to your brother and your sister, it was truly sickening. I won't deny that the MPD has very serious issues with corruption and brutality, and I'm truly sorry for what happened to your family. That's why I'm trying to make a difference."

Angela looked slightly put out by this response: she had clearly not been expecting it. After carefully scrutinising Russell's facial expression, much as she had done before with Devi, she spoke again, more politely but with a sceptical tone in her voice:

"But is it really possible to make a difference? We've heard these promises over and over, and nothing ever changes."

"I won't deny, Ms. Brown", replied Russell, "that it's not easy, and I know from my own experience how entrenched resistance to reform is within the MPD. But I assure you I am determined to achieve it, and to do justice in this particular case. That's why I have brought these two officers with me."

He stood aside and indicated a black man, of medium height with a goatee beard and a friendly smile, and a Hispanic woman, tall, well built and brown haired.

"Ms. Hewson", said Russell, "may I introduce you to Officer Elbert Grundy and Officer Florencia Rodriguez, two recent recruits, part of my reform policy, of diversifying the MPD's recruitment. Also as part of my policy, I have lifted the prohibition on new officers from patrolling on the front line while they train. They are ready to interview you, if you are willing"

Much of this statement went over Clara's head. She wondered whether to accept Russell's offer: she could not forget the last time she had spoken to the police, and knew that Angela would object if she accepted. On the other hand, this was an opportunity for justice, and she just had to grasp it. She nodded.

"Are you sure, Clara?", asked Angela.

"I am", said Clara determinedly.

"If she wants to, she should be allowed to", said Lily. "These cops might just turn out good, you never know, Angela."

"Well, I think that's settled then", smiled Officer Grundy. "So if you're OK, Clara, we'll do the interview in there, shall we?"

He pointed to the backroom.

Clara agreed to this, and led the two officers there. She was still nervous as the interview commenced, but she soon realised that Grundy and Rodriguez believed her story. It was hard for her to relive her traumatic experiences yet again, and Rodriguez kept probing her for details such as exactly how many times Trampler had visited her apartment, and how long she had been in the van, though Clara noticed she looked visibly uncomfortable when she did so, and Rodriguez solemnly explained that such details were essential if Clara was to be believed by a jury. Grundy proved to be kind and empathetic, offering sympathetic words when Clara found it difficult to go on, as was often, and when the interview ended Clara felt a great sense of optimism.

The day after the interview, Grundy and Rodriguez were sitting in a car on Pennsylvania Avenue, with Rodriguez at the wheel, as close to the White House as they dared to without the risk of attracting suspicion. The Sun was setting, creating a brilliant orange light: but more importantly for the two officers, they knew that Trampler would soon be leaving work.

Eventually, they saw their quarry appear, striding confidently down Pennsylvania Avenue, whistling to himself, seemingly oblivious to anything around him. Once Trampler was nearly level with the car bonnet, Rodriguez nodded to Grundy, who quickly and quietly stepped out of the passenger seat, handcuffs at the ready, walked round the bonnet, grabbed Trampler's arms from behind and forced him into the handcuffs, while simultaneously Rodriguez opened the door on the driver's side, stood up and announced:

"David Ronald Trampler, you are under arrest for the abduction and attempted murder of Ms. Clara Hewson on July 4th 2032. You have the right to remain silent . . ."

"Get your fucking hands off of me!", screamed Trampler. "I'm the White House Chief of Staff!".

"I don't care if you're the Archangel Gabriel", replied Grundy cooly.

Rodriguez opened the back seat door, and she and Grundy together bundled a struggling Trampler into the car: he was a strong man, and it took every ounce of effort by both of them to force him in. Rodriguez then drove off, with Grundy sitting next to Trampler in the back, doing his best to read him his rights, but struggling to make himself heard over Trampler's expletive-laden protests. Once Trampler tried to kick out at Grundy, and the police officer was forced to brandish his gun: only then did the arrested man give up the struggle. They took him to the station, where he was formally charged, but he refused to answer any of the questions put to him.

Clara felt very proud when she came into work the next morning and Trampler's arrest dominated the CNN news coverage. She did not need to be reminded by Devi, when they met at the end of her shift, that this was because of her. Grundy and Rodriguez interviewed witnesses, and they took Clara with them to the Piedmont Plateau, so she could identify the upturned van in which she had been bound, and which Trampler had attempted to kill her with.

But as welcome as these developments were to Clara, they came at a cost. When casually checking her Facebook account the evening after Trampler had been arrested, Clara was horrified to see the comments that had been posted there: "I'll kill you fucking bitch", "I'll bang you you stupid whore" and "I know where you live" were just some of the messages posted. When she tried Twitter, it was much the same: "You fucking lying bitch", "You should be shot" and "Trampler will have his revenge". Surely, she thought desperately, Instagram would be fine: but instead she came across such messages as "You fucking dyke", "I'll rape you more than Trampler ever did" and "I'll stab you all over your stupid little body". In despair, Clara had no choice but to delete the social media accounts that had always been a great pleasure to her.

But that was not the worst of it. When Clara was in work one day, Angela tapped her on the shoulder and silently pointed towards the barroom television: there was a breaking news story about a video on the Internet showing Clara and Devi making love in Clara's apartment the previous night. Clara was so horrified she let go of the glass she was holding: Angela had to swiftly stoop and catch it.

"Why . .. who . . .", gasped Clara.

"Isn't it obvious who did it, Clara?", Angela asked her.

Clara looked at her puzzled.

"Crawley did it", Angela continued. "He wants to smear you, to discredit you, for telling the truth about his Chief of Staff. That's what the establishment always does, Clara, they threaten, they bully, they blackmail and they smear all those who expose them."

Clara said nothing, but flung herself into Angela's arms for comfort, which was somewhat awkward for Angela, as she had to place the glass that Clara had dropped onto a nearby table in order to hug her back. Clara knew Angela must be right: if Crawley was capable of sanctioning a murder attempt, he was certainly capable of this. She felt angry at Crawley and at her mother for siding with him and Trampler.

"How would he know where I live, though?", she asked eventually, in a small voice.

"Trampler must have told him", said Angela gently.

Clara did her best to carry on with the day's work, but it was not easy. The blackmail video dominated the rolling news coverage: thankfully the video itself wasn't shown on the TV, but there was almost non-stop discussion of it, and of a statement from the White House refusing to comment on it. The customers also constantly brought it up, most of them sympathetic, others mocking. Clara tried to turn her face away whenever they mentioned it.

Finally, the day's work was over, and Clara, Angela and Lily were able to leave the County Line. Devi was there, with a furious expression on her face. Clara ran to Devi, who gave her a reassuring kiss.

"I assume you've heard about that goddamn video?", said Angela to Devi.

"Yes", replied Devi. "Holly and I have investigated it. The trail leads straight to the White House."

"Why am I not surprised?", sighed Angela.

"I don't think any of us should be surprised any more by Crawley's dirty tricks", answered Devi, her voice full of contempt.

Angela nodded.

"But I would also like to ask you something, Clara", said Devi, stroking Clara's cheeks. "I was thinking, now that Crawley knows where you live, he could make other nasty videos of us. Even if we manage to find and take down this one, he could still put another one up. But he doesn't know where I live . . ."

"You mean, I could live with you?", asked Clara enthusiastically.

"Of course", replied Devi. "It also makes sense for us, as a couple, to live together, and I can more easily provide for the both of us. Only if you want to, of course . . ."

"I most certainly do", said Clara. She had not felt more excited since the night when she and Devi had first made love.

"Next up: they'll announce their engagement", proclaimed Lily in a mock-pompous voice.

Clara smiled broadly at this: Devi did her best to smile as well.

Angela placed a comforting hand on Clara's shoulder. "You'd like that wouldn't you, Clara?", she said. "To live with Devi."

"Definitely I would", answered Clara.

It took about a week for Clara for transfer all of her belongings over to Devi's apartment: she could not afford a removal van. Though at times Clara missed her old apartment, this was more than compensated for by being able to spend every day with Devi. They lived reasonably comfortably off the combination of the money that Devi's parents had given her, the significant advertising revenue from truthtellers.org, and Clara's wages. They made love almost every night, to the enjoyment and satisfaction of both. Clara was also able to fulfil her longstanding wish of them getting into Devi's bath together. She also gained a new friend: Holly's house was only a couple of blocks away, and Clara and Devi were frequent visitors to her, and she to them.

Excitement was building as 50,000 people packed into the hall in Alexandria, Virginia, eagerly anticipating the arrival of President Crawley: Clementina among them. Many of them held placards proclaiming "Crawley 2032", "Free Trampler", "Down with Clara" and "Women for Crawley": Clementina herself held one of the latter. It wasn't long before their hero emerged into the conference room, striding towards the podium to loud chants of "Crawley! Crawley! Crawley! Crawley!". Clementina jumped up and down, waving her "Women for Crawley" placard. Crawley beamed and waved enthusiastically at his supporters: when he finally reached the podium the chanting continued for several minutes, and he had to raise his hand to silence the crowd.

"Thank you all for coming", he smiled. "So great to see such a turnout, such support for me from the American people. Your support has never been needed more, when we see an innocent man slandered, arrested, thrown into prison on false charges."

Loud cheering and applause from the crowd, including from a woman, carefully placed in full view of the television cameras, holding a "Women for Crawley" placard.

"Here! Here!", shouted Clementina.

"A fake news story", continued Crawley, "concocted by a reporter who, as you all know, has always had in for me and for this Administration, what for I don't know. Day after day it seems, she kept on at me, asking stupid questions, writing fake news articles."

Loud jeering and catcalls from the crowd. Crawley smiled briefly and went on, with increasing anger in his voice.

"And now this horrible, disgusting fake news reporter has come up with her biggest lie yet, a stupid story from a silly young woman about my Chief of Staff. And not just any young woman, but one who just happens to be the girlfriend of this lying reporter's intern. Is that just a coincidence?"

"No!", shouted the crowd.

"Certainly not", answered Crawley. "You might almost feel sorry for Ms. Clara Hewson", he added, in a tone of mock sympathy, "manipulated by her girlfriend and that other woman, but for the fact that she has told a horrible pack of lies about my Chief of Staff and started a rigged police investigation against an innocent man. I've no idea why, maybe her girlfriend encouraged her to get revenge on Dave out of jealousy, or maybe she made it up herself, who know, folks, who knows."

There were angry murmurings in the crowd, and loud shouts of "Clara sucks! Clara sucks! Clara sucks!", met with an approving smile from Crawley. Clementina shuffled her feet uneasily: of course I know Clara is lying, she thought, but you don't have to attack her like this.

"So", concluded Crawley, "I will direct Edward Grover, the US Attorney for the District of Columbia, to stop this fake prosecution in its tracks. And, as for what will happen to Ms. Hewson once justice has been done, well, as I said, who knows."

The crowd roared and gave Crawley a standing ovation, chanting "Four more years! Four more years!". He stepped down from the podium, smiling and waving as he left the room. Clementina joined in the cheering, though still troubled by the nature of his attack on Clara: it's all right, he's just feeling understandably upset about Trampler, she thought, he wouldn't act like this normally.

Holly wrote a scathing article about the rally on truthtellers.org, noting "the disturbing similarities between Crawley and another Northeastern property developer who began his rise to the Presidency 16 years ago", and denouncing "the long-term debasement of our politics" and "attacks on the rule of law". She also wrote with some alarm about how indifferent the rally's attendees seemed to be to their hero's corruption.

Clara watched a clip of the rally on TV at Angela's apartment the following evening: she was horrified and frightened by the attacks and threats made against her.

"They're as bad as each other, both main parties", said Angela scathingly.

"That's not quite true, Angela", said Devi fairly. "I mean, this is horrible, there's no denying it, but Holly tells me there are lots of grassroots Democrats, especially progressives, who didn't like the speech and have come out and called for the investigation to be respected. Attorney Grover has refused to stop the prosecution, and more than half the Cabinet, including Vice-President Joyce Liu, has backed him, they've made Crawley step back from his threat by threatening to resign. Nothing", she concluded, smiling at Clara, "can stop the wheels of justice from turning, Clara."

But it was not the revolt in the Democratic Party that gave Clara comfort. It was Angela's compassion and consideration, Lily's joviality and cheerfulness, and, above all, Devi's love and loyalty that fortified her to carry on supporting the prosecution of Trampler, despite everything. In particular whenever she felt in despair she would look down at the necklace that she always wore, and it gave her a powerful sense that she was not alone.

The Inconvenient Woman Chapter 7: Lovers Reunited

Devi had a spring in her step as she got off the bus and walked over to the Good Time. It had been a very busy last few days, the interview requests had never seemed to stop. She felt very proud to have co-written an article that was being so much talked about: her career had taken a major step forward. But all the same she could not help thinking about Clara: though she still enjoyed her nights out, they were never as fun without Clara. Lily was good company, but there was never the spark that she had with Clara. She thought about the text messages she had sent, to which Clara had not replied: of course, this might simply be because Clara feared Trampler's reaction - Devi could not blame her for that - but one small part of Devi wondered if Clara had fallen out of love with her.

Still, Devi thought, she and Lily should have a pleasant enough night out: Lily was always happy and cheerful. But as Devi approached the Good Time and saw Lily standing outside, she saw a serious and troubled expression on Lily's face.

"What's wrong?", called out Devi.

"It's Clara, she's . . ."

"What?", demanded Devi, a horrible anticipation in her stomach.

"Well", explained Lily, speaking very quickly, "Trampler kidnapped her last night outside her apartment block, tied her up in his van, drove to Virginia to kill her."

"He killed her?", exclaimed Devi, feeling a mixture of shock, outrage and hatred.

"No", replied Lily hastily. "He was going to kill her with some sleeping pills, but she pleaded with him, and he let her out and drove off, but then turned round and drove back at her with his van. But then", she added, as Devi looked angry and horrified, "he drove the van into the grave he had dug for Clara, got out, but she ran away from him. She's back home now, a van driver gave her a lift, she said she'd go to the cops."

"You're joking aren't you, Lily?", said Devi pleadingly, but without much conviction.

"I'm not", said Lily. "Honestly, Devi, this really happened."

Devi turned and ran down the street as fast as she could.

"Where are you going?", called out Lily, sounding stunned.

"To Clara's", Devi shouted back over her shoulder. "Wait for me back here."

As she ran, Devi tried to process everything she had heard. Was Clara safe? Had Trampler gone back to her apartment and . . . but she couldn't bear to think this thought through.

She ran across the road, only the quickest glance for any traffic, and onto Hunter Street, through the entrance to Clara's apartment block, up the stairs, finally reaching Clara's door: she banged on the door as hard as she could.

"Go away!", came Clara's screaming voice from inside. "I never want to see you again!"

Devi stood there, dumbfounded for a moment, but then she understood.

"It's me, Clara", she called out.

"Oh", said Clara, in an embarrassed tone.

Devi heard what sounded like a heavy object being carefully lowered to the ground: then she heard Clara slowly make her way towards the door and open it. Devi's smile on seeing Clara quickly turned to a shocked expression: Clara's curly red hair, normally so neat and elegant, was now untidy, hanging all round her face; her blue eyes, once so bright and sparkling, were dull and downcast; and she only managed the smallest and briefest of smiles. Her face was also deep red from crying. Devi's hatred towards Trampler increased.

Clara beckoned Devi to enter her apartment, and led her into the bedroom, where she sat down heavily on the bed. Devi noticed that the table was wobbling: she suspected that Clara had seized it to use a defensive weapon. She took Clara's hand to caress it, but then stepped back in horror: there were deep cuts on Clara's arm.

"What the . . . ?", she exclaimed, but then she noticed a small knife lying on the floor, next to the table.

"What did you do that for?", cried Devi.

"Wouldn't you?" asked Clara defensively. "Don't you know what I've gone through?"

"I do know, Clara", said Devi gently, caressing Clara's hair and feeling deeply ashamed. "Lily told me all about what he did to you."

"It's not just that", blurted out Clara: it sounded as though she had been desperate to get this off her chest. "I went to the cops, but they wouldn't believe me, they said some real horrible things to me. And then my Mom, I went to her and . . . and . . . she didn't believe me either, she told me Crawley would never . . . never have . . . taken on. . ."

Clara burst into a torrent of tears.

"Oh, your mother wouldn't recognise the truth if it were shouting in her ear. All the way up Crawley's ass, she is", said Devi disdainfully.

Clara hung her head, her tears flowing as strongly as ever.

"I'm so sorry, Devi", she said suddenly.

"For what?", inquired Devi.

"Because I let him come between us. That night, I let him send you away."

"It's not your fault, Clara", said Devi firmly: she took Clara's left hand in hers and stroked it. "He would have killed you on the spot if I hadn't left. He said so himself, remember. I was there, I saw what he was doing to you, saw how much he frightened you."

"But not only that", said Clara: Devi could tell this was the information that Clara had held back the longest. "I nearly told him to kill you."

"You did what?". Devi's eyebrows were raised and she let go of Clara's hand. Was this really true? Would Clara really suggest such a thing?

"In the van . . . I asked why he was going to kill me when I hadn't written that article . . . you know, the one about Crawley stealing money . . . I asked him why . . . cos of course it was you and that other woman who wrote it . . . I mean, I stopped myself before saying your name, but he knew . . ."

Clara now cried harder than ever. There was a very awkward pause as Devi tried to take in what Clara had just told her.

"It's OK, Clara", she said eventually placing her hand on Clara's shoulder, "I know you didn't really mean it. You were in a horrible situation in that van, people will say anything when they're desperate. Don't blame yourself, Clara, it's all Trampler's fault . . . and Crawley's", she added (Devi knew, from what Holly had told her about Trampler, that he would never have done anything like this without Crawley's authorisation). "No one else's."

Clara continued to cry: Devi could not bear to see her like this. She crouched down, and began to caress Clara's hair and cheeks.

"I love you, Clara, and I've always got your back. Nothing will come between us ever again."

She hugged Clara, and planted a gentle kiss on her lips. And then she noticed something: Clara began to tidy her hair, her eyes once again began to sparkle, and she smiled through her tears.

Clara hugged Devi as tightly as she could manage. She had no words to express her feelings of joy, relief and gratitude. That Devi still loved her, was embracing her, was comforting her, was supporting her, was worth more than she could ever say. For the first time since the fateful night when Trampler had entered her flat, she felt an emotion she had often wondered if she would ever feel again: happiness.

Devi took hold of Clara's right hand and caressed it, but then started.

"What's that, Clara?"

Clara looked down: Devi was pointing at the bracelet that Trampler had bought her.

"Did he buy that?", asked Devi.

Clara nodded.

"Anything else?"

Clara showed Devi the watch on her left hand, and the earrings and high heeled shoes on top of the chest of drawers.

"Shouldn't they go in the trash can where they belong?", inquired Devi.

"But they're so . . .nice", ventured Clara.

"But, Clara, these aren't real presents", said Devi. "Did he tell you why he had gotten them?"

"Yes, he said that in return for them I should keep quiet about him and Crawley", admitted Clara.

"There you are then, Clara", said Devi emphatically. "They were a way of controlling you, of abusing you. Do you really think he would have gotten you these things out of the goodness of his heart?"

Clara could not dispute this, so, as Devi had suggested, she disposed of all of Trampler's gifts in the bin in the kitchen. Simultaneously, Devi placed the knife that Clara had used to self-harm back in the kitchen drawers. Then Clara silently made her way over to the chest of drawers in her bedroom, opened it and pulled out the necklace hidden there, placing it around her neck once again. Devi had a proud smile on her face.

"You look so lovely with it on", she said.

Clara felt so strong and tall with the necklace back on: in its own way, Devi's birthday present to her was just as comforting as Devi herself. She smiled at Devi, who positively beamed back at her. But then Clara sighed.

"What's wrong, Clara?", asked Devi.

"It's just . . . all those folks were right, weren't they?", said Clara. "Those who said that something bad would happen because I was too curious", she added, in response to Devi's puzzled expression. "And they were right, it nearly got me killed."

"In what way?", inquired Devi.

Clara told Devi about her second encounter with Trampler in the County Line, and about his discovering her reading the corruption article.

"You mustn't blame yourself, Clara", insisted Devi, running her fingers through Clara's curly hair, though privately she felt guilty over the article she had co-written. "The fact that you were curious does not in any way justify what he did to you. You had every right to know what was going on: there is no excuse for his actions."

"So it would be OK then, if I go back on the Internet and start searching for things?", asked Clara tentatively.

"Why are you asking me, Clara?", said Devi. "It's entirely your choice, what you do online. Don't let him win, Clara. Just be yourself. I love you for the way you truly are."

Clara smiled again. She picked up her phone, sat down on the bed and started browsing the Internet for information about robots. Devi sat down beside her, smiling, placing her arm around Clara. Clara at first was still unsure, but gradually, as Devi continued to encourage her, she began to shake her inhibitions and to browse with her old enthusiasm.

Clara spent about an hour browsing, but then sighed again.

"What is it?", Devi asked.

"It's that he'll get off, won't he?", said Clara. "Like he said, no one will believe me. I'll never get justice."

"You can get justice, Clara", Devi assured her. "I can help you"

"How?", asked Clara, half hopeful, half sceptical.

"I'll speak to Holly, my mentor at the Post, and set up an interview with you. Let the world know what he did to you."

"But will she believe me?", asked Clara. "She's a stranger to me, how can I know if I can trust her? And she's also in a position of power isn't she? After Trampler and the cops . . ."

"You've nothing to worry about", replied Devi, in a tone half reassuring, half indulgent. "Holly is the one who has been investigating Crawley over the corruption scandal, remember. It was she who wrote that article with me, about the embezzled money. She knows what Crawley and Trampler are like, she always believes in holding the powerful to account, she always asks them tough questions."

"But then, might she be tough with me?", suggested Clara.

"Of course not, Clara,", laughed Devi. "She is tough on those in power, or those who have done wrong, not on their victims. Trust me, she will believe you."

"OK, then", said Clara cautiously.

A ping noise could be heard on Devi's phone. Devi took her phone out of her pocket and looked at it.

"It's Lily", she said. "She keeps texting me. I suppose I'll have to go back to her. Would you like to come to the Good Time, Clara?"

"I don't think so", said Clara. "I just don't feel like it, not after everything that's happened."

"Well, I suppose, if you don't to", said Devi, with a slightly disappointed smile. "I suppose I must be off, anyway."

"One more thing", said Clara suddenly. "Could you walk me home from work tomorrow, just in case, you know . . ."

"Of course I will, Clara", assured Devi. "Anything to keep you safe. Will Angela be there?", she added, rather abruptly.

Clara sighed once again.

"Yes, but please, Devi, she was so good and kind to me earlier. She and Lily came here straight after work together, and she hugged me and comforted me."

Devi stood silent for about a minute, then said, in a quiet voice,

"That was very good of her. I can see what you meant about her being such a good friend. I just hope we can at least be civil to each other tomorrow."

"Will you . . ?", began Clara.

"I'll try my best", promised Devi. "Well, I think I'll be going now . . ."

"Just a minute", said Clara quickly.

"What?", asked Devi.

"It's just . . . I don't know how I can thank you", said Clara.

"That's all right", said Devi, with a smile that suggested she knew what was about to happen.

Clara flung herself upon Devi and kissed her with a passion greater than anything she had ever managed before, squeezing Devi's top lip between hers as far it could go: Devi had to grab the side of the bed to stop herself from overbalancing, then she gathered herself and returned Clara's kisses with almost equal fervour, tightly holding on to Clara's bottom lip.

"You are beautiful inside and out", whispered Clara fiercely, in a brief pause for breath.

"So are you", replied Devi.

"I love you", said Clara in a feverish voice, after their next bout of kissing.

"You didn't need to tell me that, Clara", grinned Devi, caressing Clara's hair while Clara stroked her cheeks.

"But I love you even more now", answered Clara, before resuming her kisses.

Eventually, Clara ran out of breath, and Devi gave her a tight hug before bidding her the fondest of farewells.

The following morning, Devi arrived at One Franklin Square and strode up to Holly's desk with a determined expression.

"Morning, Devi", Holly greeted her approvingly. "You look very up for it today."

"I am", answered Devi, speaking very fast. "There's someone we need to interview, someone linked to the corruption story. A young woman, Clara Hewson her name is, who Trampler kidnapped and tried to kill to keep her quiet. You see, he had been visiting her apartment and raping her, then one day he saw she was reading our story, so he tried to kill her. But happily he failed", she concluded proudly.

"How awful", said Holly. But then she added, in a shrewd voice, "Do you know this young woman?"

"She's my girlfriend", replied Devi.

"Your girlfriend?", repeated Holly. "Then I'm sorry, Devi, but I can't do this."

"Why?", inquired Devi, shocked. "I thought you'd be on Clara's side, I told her that."

"Because", replied Holly, "it's a conflict of interest for me to interview my intern's girlfriend. Journalistic ethics are very important, Devi, you need to realise that. I didn't go into reporting to do favours for my interns."

"But this story is important", insisted Devi. " A young woman raped, kidnapped and nearly murdered by the White House Chief of Staff. Does that not matter to you? Normally you'd be all over a story like this."

"But this is different", Holly insisted. "I repeat, Devi, this is a conflict of interest. It's simply not fair that I should interview this Clara Hewson while not interviewing other abused women with no connections to this newspaper, simply because she's your girlfriend."

"You mean you don't care!", shouted Devi. "I saw Clara last night, have you any idea what she was like? She was crying, she'd been self-harming for God's sake! But all you care about is some stupid 'conflict of interest'!"

Holly looked visibly shocked: Devi had never spoken to her like this before.

"How can you say that, Devi?", she asked, doing her best to remain calm. "Of course I care, it's horrible what Trampler did to Clara, but there's an important principle here . . ."

"I don't give a shit. . .", hit back Devi.

"Now, Devi, let's not use language like that in here", admonished Holly, but Devi ploughed on as though Holly had not spoken.

". . . about your stupid principles, I want justice for Clara!"

"Please, Devi", said Holly, sounding increasingly desperate, "I understand your feelings, I have every sympathy for Clara but you must understand . . ."

"But this is connected to our investigation", persisted Devi. "The story we wrote together. It's undeniable. How can we ignore the fallout from it? How can we ignore the fact that a young woman nearly lost her life for it, simply because I happen to be in love with her? How can we pursue the corruption story, and then ignore this very big consequence? And, what's more, Trampler tried to kill Clara because he saw her reading our story. It's because of us that this horrible thing happened. We owe it to Clara."

Devi looked pleadingly at Holly, whose expression slowly changed from one of anger to abashment.

"You're right, Devi", she said. "We do need to do this interview. Where . . ."

But at this point Holly broke off. Devi looked round and saw Curtis White striding towards them.

"In my office. Right now", he said abruptly.

Once the three were in his office, Curtis slammed the door shut and stood behind his desk, glowering.

"I've told you once, I've told you a million times . . ."

"And you're wasting your breath, Curtis, I'll never stop", said Holly defiantly.

"You're dragging us through the dirt, with all this antagonising of the White House. Our reputation has never been worse", said Curtis. "And you're leading young Devi here up the wrong path."

"And I'm gonna continue up that path", replied Devi, with a mix of defiance and pride. "We're gonna interview my girlfriend, Trampler tried to kill her to cover up the scandal."

"See!", shouted Curtis triumphantly. "Now I know why you've been pursuing this goddamn story. It's because you hate Trampler."

"Damn right I hate him!", shouted Devi. "I hate him for what he did to Clara!"

"You've just proved my point!", Curtis argued back. "It's all because of some silly childish vendetta!"

"Are you really that stupid?", said Devi scornfully.

"You should show some respect to me, young lady!", thundered Curtis.

"I'll show no respect to a man who defends Trampler!", yelled Devi, in the most condescending tone she could manage.

"There you go again, your grudge against Trampler!", said Curtis, pounding his desk with his fist.

"Enough!", announced Holly, as Devi was about to unleash another verbal volley. "Come on, Devi, we're leaving this place. We'll start a website, where we can tell the truth without interference from White House boot lickers."

The two women hurried out of the office.

"You'll be sorry you left the Post!", shouted Curtis: Devi replied by giving him the haughtiest look she had given anyone in her life.

Clara came into work feeling much happier than she had done in a long time. Angela smiled on seeing her.

"So pleased to see you like this again, Clara", she said.

"It's because she's back with Devi!", smiled Lily.

Angela gave an exasperated sigh.

"Honestly, Clara, will you ever learn . . . ?"

Clara instantly burst into an account of what Devi had done for her the previous night: she was so wrapped up in the story that she failed to notice the shutters open, and Angela had to beckon to her to enter the County Line.

"Doesn't that prove she loves me?", she ended, looking at Angela with a defiant expression.

"And Devi was real horrified when I told her what Trampler had done", added Lily. "She also kept going on to me about Clara, when Trampler stopped them seeing each other, about how she missed her, she was real upset about it. When they're together, she smiles at Clara real big and compliments her all the time. She's never happier than when she's with Clara. She's totally in love with Clara. Right pair of lovebirds, the both of them."

Angela was silent for a minute, for once neglecting to start arranging the chairs and tables: Lily and Clara had to do it instead.

"Well", she said cautiously, "you do make a good case there, Clara, but . . ."

"But what?", asked Clara.

"Nothing", said Angela hastily. "You said she's coming here this evening?"

"Yes, to walk me home", said Clara.

Angela said nothing, but set about dusting the bar, deep in thought.

Clara enjoyed being back at work: the customers were also happy to have her back, though they also constantly asked her where she had been the previous day, causing her a lot of distress and discomfort. But she was back doing what she loved, and that was the main thing. She also could not wait to see Devi when the working day ended.

When the moment finally came, Clara, Angela and Lily, as always, left the County Line together. Devi was standing just a couple of feet outside the door: she smiled her brilliant smile on seeing Clara, but when she caught sight of Angela, her smile became rather awkward and embarrassed. Angela, for her part, looked uncomfortable on seeing Devi.

After Clara and Devi had shared their customary kiss, Angela said, in a high voice:

"So, you're walking Clara home tonight?"

Clara was feeling worried: please, she thought, don't get into another argument.

"Yes", said Devi, somewhat stiffly. "Clara tells me how kind you were to her last night. I would like to thank you."

"To thank me?", repeated Angela, in a surprised voice.

"Yes, Angela, to thank you", said Devi seriously. "When Clara was in the depths of trauma, you were there for her. You comforted her, consoled her. That's why I want to thank you."

Angela stared hard at Devi for about a minute. Clara looked nervously at the ground, feeling very tense. But eventually, Angela spoke, in an awkward but unmistakably friendly tone, and Clara looked up, feeling more hopeful.

"It seems I misjudged you", said Angela. "I can now see that you really do love Clara."

"That's all right", smiled Devi, now speaking with her usual warmth. "You are a true friend to Clara. I suppose I did . .  . shall we say . . . talk down to you last time. And remember this, Angela, whatever our differences, we both care about Clara. That's precisely what she needs right now."

Devi smiled at Angela, who, after a moment's hesitation, smiled back. Clara also smiled, while Lily chortled:

"So it's all friends together now!"

"So", said Angela to Devi, ignoring Lily, "I hear Clara's gonna be interviewed by the Washington Post."

"Well, not exactly", replied Devi, trying to avoid Clara's eye.

"Why not?", asked Clara: the happiness she had been feeling vanished in an instant.

"It's Curtis White, our editor-in-chief", sighed Devi. "He's been on and on at me and Holly . . ."

"Who's Holly?", inquired Angela.

"Holly MacIver, my mentor, the Post's White House correspondent", explained Devi. "Until recently", she quickly added.

"I've heard of her", said Angela. "Isn't she the one who's been pursuing Crawley over that corruption scandal?"

"She is, and I've been assisting her", replied Devi, smiling proudly: Angela looked at her approvingly. "But, like I said", Devi continued, "Curtis has been on and on at us for months, trying to get us to drop it."

"Why?", asked Clara.

"Because he fears the Post won't have access to the White House any more", said Devi. "He wants to keep on Crawley's good side."

"He's a coward", said Angela contemptuously.

"You're absolutely right", answered Devi. "So, anyway, this morning, he called us into his office yet again, I told him about the planned interview with Clara, and he accused me of having a grudge against Trampler, you know, with Clara being my girlfriend, and things got kinda heated between me and him, and I suppose I did get a bit . . . superior . . . with him . . ."

"Well, you were right", said Angela.

"Thanks", smiled Devi, "so in the end Holly stepped in, and she told me we will leave the Post and set up a website, to be called truthtellers.org. And", she concluded, smiling at and placing her arm around Clara, "your interview will be the first story on there. Holly's ready to do it next week, if you're OK, Clara."

Clara nodded.

"I assume Holly's happy to do it?", asked Angela.

"At first she wasn't", said Devi. "I came into the office first thing this morning, suggested doing it, she wasn't keen at first, saw it as a conflict of interest, but I persuaded her in the end, reminded her it was because of our story that Trampler tried to kill Clara."

"Good for you", said Angela. "And you're better off getting away from the mainstream media, anyway. Far too close to the establishment, they are."

"Yeah, well, Holly's the only one in the White House press pack who asks Crawley proper questions", said Devi. "Half of them lick his boots, the other half are scared of Trampler. In fact, Trampler has been constantly at Holly, he keeps trying to frighten her to drop the corruption story, even threatened to rape her once."

"How horrible!", exclaimed Angela: Devi gave her an approving smile.

"Did he really?", asked Clara, horrified.

Devi smiled at her.

"Why are you surprised, Clara?", she asked. "You should know, better than any of us, what he's like."

"I suppose I should", sighed Clara.

"So, are we going home or not?", prompted Lily.

"We could all come to my apartment", suggested Clara. "That would be so nice."

"Well, I'm certainly up for it", announced Devi importantly.

"I think so, too", said Angela.

"Well, might as well go with the flow", laughed Lily.

So the four of them made their way down Hunter Street to Clara's apartment, and spent a highly enjoyable evening together, making small talk, watching TV, eating a cottage pie made by Clara. Devi was highly impressed when Angela told her how her mother had spoken at the Women's March in 2017, remarking that her parents would have approved, while Angela was intrigued to hear from Devi about her family's origins in India. Lily entertained them all with her jokes, while Clara reminisced about the happy times she had spent with her father when she was a little girl. Clara went to bed that night full of peace and contentment.

A week later, and Clara was nervously pacing the floor in her apartment: she knew the interview was to take place this evening, but wasn't sure what to expect. Eventually, she heard Devi knocking, as only Devi could, on the door: full of trepidation, she opened the door, and saw, next to Devi, the short stout woman she had seen on TV on the fateful day the corruption article had been published.

"Clara", announced Devi importantly, "meet Holly MacIver. Holly, this is Clara Hewson."

"How are you feeling Clara?", inquired Holly, in a voice both friendly and concerned.

Clara eyed her warily, but spoke politely.

"I'm feeling a lot better than I was, thanks. All because of Devi."

Holly smiled: Devi looked inordinately pleased.

"So, Clara", said Holly, "Do I understand that you give your consent to be interviewed?"

"Yes", said Clara nervously. "But", she quickly added, "can Devi sit with me? I need someone to reassure me."

"Of course she can", replied Holly. "But," she added somewhat sternly, turning to Devi, "Clara alone must answer the questions, Devi. This is her interview."

"I understand", replied Devi, in a much humbler voice than Clara had ever heard her use before.

Clara sat down on the bed: Devi sat next to her, holding and caressing her hand. Holly pulled up a chair from the table, switched on a tape recorder, and the interview commenced.

Holly began by asking Clara about her background, so Clara told her the story of her life, choking up when she mentioned her father's death: Devi hugged her, while Holly expressed her condolences. Clara also felt rather awkward when talking about her mother. Holly then moved on to ask about Trampler, so Clara told her about her first encounter with him, how she had met Devi later that night - she could not help bursting into smiles at this point - and how, on their first date, Devi had mentioned the corruption investigation. Clara then told of her second meeting with Trampler, and of how he had come to her apartment the following evening, but when Holly then asked what Trampler had done to her, she shook her head and did not answer.

"You must tell her, Clara", urged Devi, gently but firmly.

"I know how hard this is for you, Clara", said Holly, "but it needs to be mentioned. The world needs to know what he did to you."

Clara took two deep breaths and caressed the necklace, before hesitantly recounting how Trampler had forced her to undress and allow him to violate her: she choked with tears as she recalled it. Devi hugged her tightly, Holly looked discomforted.

"You're doing so well, Clara", Devi told her. "But you need to go on."

Clara sighed, and then, still breathing sharply, told about how Trampler had forbidden her from going to the County Line, and about the night he had forced her and Devi to split up. She spoke in depth and with passion about how he had made her feel: she had never opened up like this to anyone before. Then she mentioned how Trampler had seen her reading the corruption article - Holly looked guilty at this point - and then recounted his abduction and attempted murder of her. Again, her voice was choked as she recounted that awful night - Holly looked increasingly angry - but she adopted a bold and defiant tone when telling of her escape. Again, she caressed the necklace: it seemed to give her the strength to carry on. She finished by mentioning how she had got back to Washington, how she had been mocked by the police - she had an angry tone when talking about this - and finally, in a despairing voice, about how her mother had refused to believe her: Holly had a contemptuous look on her face. At the end of the interview, Holly asked Clara if she had anything more to say: "I want justice", replied Clara.

Holly got up, switched off the tape, thanked and expressed her sympathies to Clara, promising that she would do all in her power to secure justice, then left. Despite the traumatic experiences she had just relived, Clara felt at peace: finally, there was someone in a position of authority who believed her and took her side. It had also been a great relief to finally get it all out.

"You did so well, Clara", said Devi again. "Real brave."

"Thanks", smiled Clara, blushing.

"Would you like to come out tonight?", asked Devi, smiling herself.

"To the Good Time?", inquired Clara.

"Of course", answered Devi.

"Absolutely!", shouted Clara.

And so Clara, wearing the dress she had worn on the night she and Devi had met, not to mention the necklace, went to the Good Time that night with Devi and Lily. She did not approach or talk to strangers as she had once done: in fact, she was nervous whenever she passed close to someone she didn't know, and spent a lot of time looking over her shoulder. But she still enjoyed her night out, singing, laughing with Lily and dancing with Devi: it was by far the most fun she had had since Trampler had first entered her apartment. At the end of the night, she and Devi travelled back to Devi's apartment, and enjoyed a wonderful and passionate night of lovemaking: it seemed like an age had passed since Clara had felt so happy or joyful.