Free Sally Wentworth - A Typical Male by Sally Wentworth Page B

behalf of the unknown woman that she'd
interviewed, Brett went to stand behind her and gently rubbed her arms. 'Tell
me,' he said softly.
    'I can't. I promised her I
wouldn't.'
    'You're not
thinking about her, you're thinking about yourself.'
    She became
very still, then slowly turned to face him.
    Her beautiful
eyes were smudged with tears and he felt a great surge of emotion, as if
someone had kicked him in the stomach. 'Oh, Tasha.' He
opened his arms and she stood for a moment, then came
to lean her head against his chest. Stroking her back, he said inadequately,
'It's OK, you're all right.'
    Sighing, she
said, 'Sometimes the world is a bloody rotten place.'
    Brett kissed
her hair and said, 'Don't worry, I'll take care of
you.'
    She laughed on a sardonic note,
straightened up out of his hold and pushed her hair off her face. 'I don't need
a man to take care of me. I can look after myself.'
    Annoyed that she'd included him in a
category she obviously despised, he said, 'Oh, sure. You know what you remind
me of, Tasha? One of those chocolates that's hard on
the outside, but when you bite into it the centre is so soft it just melts
away.'
    'I admit that I get angry when I
hear of a woman who's being ill-used,' she admitted tightly.
    'And do you think women don't
ill-use men? Of course they do. Some of them. Just like it's only some men who mistreat women. You can't
just lump them all together, Tasha.'
    She gazed at him for a moment, then
turned and walked away, stooping to pick a long stalk of grass which she began
to pull to pieces. 'Sometimes I think that men are born knowing how to abuse
women.' He didn't answer and, her head lowered, she went on, 'I left school at
eighteen and went straight to college. There was a lecturer there, a
middle-aged married man. He was my course tutor and I often had to see him
alone. He made a pass at me, and when I resisted he said that if I didn't do as
he wanted he'd make sure I failed my exams. So I told him that if he didn't
keep away from me I'd report him to the college authorities.'
    Her voice faltered. 'Then one
day—one beautifully sunny afternoon—he tried to rape me. He did it quite
deliberately, holding a cushion over my head so I couldn't scream. He half
suffocated me, but I'd had some training in self-defence
and I managed to get him off. I raked his face with my nails and kicked him
where it hurts most. Then I left him and ran, but when I complained to the
college authorities they wouldn't believe me. The tutor was a respectably
married man with grown-up children. He was a grandfather, for God's sake. So
who the hell do you think they believed?' She gave a harsh, brittle laugh.
'They said it would be better all round if I just left the college quietly.'
    Consumed
with the deepest rage, Brett said harshly, 'Who is he? Just tell me who he is.'
    A small
smile creased her mouth and he saw deep satisfaction in her eyes. 'Oh, you
don't have to worry; I made sure he'd never misuse another student long ago.'
    Brett
stared at her, wild ideas chasing through his mind. 'What did you do?'
    'Oh, nothing melodramatic. I went straight to the Rape
Crisis Centre in the town and told them about it. It seemed I wasn't the first
who had complained about him, but I was the first who was willing to give
evidence in a trial. They took up the case and forced the college to listen. He
tried to say that I had seduced him, that I was willing, but he had the
scratches on his face. So he was eventually made to leave. But it was all
hushed up, of course,' she added bitterly.
    'So you went back to university?'
    Tasha
laughed again. 'You're joking! I got kicked out before I'd even been there a
whole term. The principal tried to buy me off. He said I could stay on at the
college if I would drop the charges against the lecturer. When I refused, there
was no chance of going back, to that or any other college. It's like a men-
only club; they all stick together, try to protect then- own. But at least