Free Woman of the Hour by Jane Lythell Page A

Finally I’d had enough. It was late and I knew I was on the cusp of making a complete fool of myself. I grabbed a glass of water, glugged it down and headed up to my office to get my bag and coat. It was a smaller office in those days which I shared with an assistant producer. Suddenly Julius was standing there at the threshold. He walked in and kicked the door shut behind him.
    ‘You’re gorgeous,’ he said. ‘I’ve always fancied you.’
    I remember feeling gratified at his words and I smiled drunkenly at him.
    ‘Bet you say that to all the girls.’
    ‘I mean it. But you’ve always been Miss Untouchable.’
    He crossed the room to me fast, grabbed me and kissed me. It was a nice soft kiss at first, our lips making gentle contact and I kissed him back. He slid his tongue between my lips and the kiss became more intense as he moved his hands up to hold my head closer to his. I responded to this kiss too. It was strange and sexy and exciting. I hadn’t kissed another man in a sexual way for over ten years. He ran his hands down from my head to my back and we rocked back and forth still kissing. His hand slid down and reached my bottom and he squeezed me hard, too hard. He started to pull my dress up. We were still kissing and he was breathing fast. I could feel his erection pressing against me. It was all getting too rough and my pleasure was turning to alarm. I tried to pull away from him but he rubbed himself up against me and was almost groaning. As I struggled more he suddenly slammed me against the wall.
    ‘Come on, Liz. Let’s fuck hard.’
    He had got his hand inside my knickers now and he stuck his third finger right up me.
    ‘You can now,’ he breathed in my ear. ‘You’re a free woman.’
    He was moving his finger inside me and then he put his second finger up me too and I was frightened by his roughness and his insistence. I didn’t want to have sex with him. I pulled my face away from his and said as strongly as I could manage:
    ‘No. No. NO! Get off me.’
    He was inflamed. There was no other word for it and still he was fingering me roughly with one hand while with his other hand he was unzipping his trousers. I found the strength to push him away with all my force and his hand came out of me. By now I was half sobbing. I grabbed my bag, ran to the door, wrenched it open and fled to the ladies’ toilet. As I locked the cubicle door I was trembling so hard. He wouldn’t follow me in here, surely? After a while I wiped myself with toilet tissue and saw that there was a trace of blood on the paper. I sat on the toilet seat and wept. Two women came in and I held my breath and listened as they talked and giggled and applied lipstick. The party was still going strong downstairs and you could hear the bass thud of the disco.
    I tried to get my breathing back under control and I waited until the toilet had emptied. I slipped out of the Ladies and left the station by the back exit. I saw no sign of Julius and I stumbled along by the riverside until I saw the orange beacon of a taxi. Once in the dark safety of the taxi I let the tears come again and I cried all the way back to Chalk Farm. When I reached my flat I locked and bolted the door. We had just moved into the flat and it didn’t feel like home yet. There were unpacked boxes everywhere and it was all strange and unfamiliar. I couldn’t stop crying so I called Fenton. It was two in the morning but she answered on the fourth ring. She listened as I told her my story punctuated by sobs and gulps.
    ‘Get the first train down to Folkestone tomorrow, sweetheart. I’ll meet you at the station.’
    ‘But I’ve got all these boxes to unpack.’
    ‘The boxes can wait. You’re not going to be on your own this weekend. We’ll walk by the sea and I’ll treat you to fish and chips.’
    I did as she said because she was right, I could not face being on my own in the new flat without Flo. It was such a comfort to see her face as I got off the train at