A young woman was standing on the pavement hurling abuse at the house.
Henry lifted the phone and dialed.
Eventually it was answered. ‘Yes?’
‘Sergeant, she’s here again. I, It’s ...’
‘I’ll send someone round to collect her, Henry.’ The line went dead.
He stared at her from the shadows. Her face contorted in anger.
She’d accused him of sexual abuse but couldn’t substantiate the claim.
He was innocent. He’d never met her prior to her allegations. But she’d maintained her assertion.
And now he was starting to doubt himself. Her continued presence planting and germinating the seed of doubt.
1 comment:
Oh, every effective, Rob! Makes one wonder about the reliability of one's own memory...
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