From report to court, part five – Two become three

By the time England was in the Christmas lockdown of 2020, Alfie was ready to his interview. He made the same choice as me and went on his own, but Ross logged my address in the police system to say Alfie could visit me. He didn’t though, he did what I did after my interview, he went home and slept. The emotional exhaustion of going through that made our brains want to shut down and reboot.

By the time our calendars clicked onto March, Ross told us he’d be calling Tim in for an interview. The idea of Ross sliding Alfie’s and my names across a table towards Tim filled me with a feeling like I’d eaten bad shrimp. Tim still had so much power in my head. He was big and I was small. He was right and I was wrong. He was going to know, without any doubt, I’d betrayed him. Was he going to be angry with me? Disappointed? He was still a parental figure and I was the child afraid of retributions and consequences.

Ross couldn’t tell us the precise date or time of the interview, which I assume was to stop there being a welcoming party outside the police station. I didn’t want to see him anyway. I can normally predict my reactions to situations quite accurately, but Tim… part of me wanted to grab him by the neck and say, “I ain’t little anymore.” But it was more likely I’d revert to a compliant child that wanted his approval.

When Ross called, there was no ‘Hiya mate, how you doing?’ like there normally was, he went straight in and said, “So I had Tim in today.” Tim was still on the sex offenders register so was obliged to comply with any police requests. Sadly, I found out, that meant a squad car hadn’t turned up at his house to bring him in, he’d just driven himself and walked through the doors like any normal person.

“As expected, he’s denied everything,” Ross said.

But that wasn’t what I’d expected. How could he deny it? Years of my life, all that time he’d spent caring for me, all the times I knew he’d be there when I needed support or to escape my troubles, and he just wipes it all away like a smear of butter on a kitchen worktop.

“I know you and Alfie are close, but I can’t really tell you what Tim said about him. What I can say is he claimed Alfie was eighteen when they met.”

I snorted a laugh. “While Tim was ironing Alfie’s school uniform!”

“I know mate. I didn’t say it wasn’t ridiculous.”

There was something almost funny about it. Offensive, but funny. He must have looked so stupid while sat there trying to come up with the lies. “I can’t wait to hear what bullshit he said about me.”

There was a pause, and Ross said, “He said he didn’t know who you are.”

I could hear Ross still talking, but the words weren’t reaching my brain. My vision fogged and I grabbed the radiator as my knees gave way. I had to deal with the pain of them hitting the wooden floor, but not my face. The man who held me while I cried. The man who went to so much effort to get me into his life and under his wing. He took me to my first Pride march. My first night out in a gay pub. My first kiss, when not knowing any better I let myself be alone with him. He was the first place my mum went when I ran away from home. Countless evenings, days, phone calls, conversations, laughs, tears, decades of me thinking about him, googling him, the entire course of my life changed by his actions, and, he didn’t remember me.

“But… What… how fucking insignificant am I?”

I got off the floor and stumbled into the kitchen as Ross said, “Oh mate no. It’s the opposite. You’re so significant all he can do is claim ignorance.”

I made a noise like a seagull coughing as I swallowed a mouthful of vodka and smacked the bottle back onto the worktop. I really didn’t need to be sliding back into that habit. I pulled a glass out of a cupboard and filled it with red wine, and gulped at it like a respectable adult.

I’d spent a lifetime running from the useless twat that I was. That’s not true, I had one use, one that men seemed to like. But I left that behind and became funny, strong, reliable, a touch aggressive, all to get away from being the cock-sock that I was. And here Tim was, saying that even after he’d done those things to me. Even after he’d spent so long moving me into a position where I’d let him. Even after I spent decades defending him for what he did, I wasn’t even worth remembering.

It was September before anything more happened. Alfie and I had detailed anyone we could think of that might be able to corroborate our story, Ross had spoken to them all and taken statements from those that had useful information. We’d both been through boxes of old photos and provided them to Ross with statements about when and where they were taken, and we were waiting for Ross to tell us the case was built and had been given to the CPS to either approve charges or say there wasn’t a case.

Then I get a message from Alfie asking if Ryan had contacted me. Ryan was Tim’s boyfriend when I first met Tim. He’d just turned sixteen then and was already living with Tim. I’d given his name to Ross, as had Alfie, but neither of us had spoken to him for decades. He’d found Alfie on Facebook and messaged him.

Ross had tracked Ryan down and written to him. Ryan had understandably been surprised, and found Alfie to ask him what was going on. I called Ross and asked if either Alfie or I were allowed to speak to Ryan, I wasn’t sure if it would count as some sort of conspiracy if we did. Neither of us particularly wanted to speak to Ryan, but we thought he must have changed with the passing of the years, and I wondered if we had some sort of duty to try and support him, if he was going to be making a statement too.

We both spoke to him, then we both spoke to each other saying how he hadn’t changed, but by the start of November, nearly a year and a half since I called the police, Ryan had made his statement. It was then three of us, all knowing each other were around Tim. Each of us knowing what was happening to each other. Although I wondered if Ryan knew. What was happening to Alfie and me didn’t happen in front of Ryan, and didn’t affect his life, so he might not have taken the time to see. We had a series of witnesses too, now all we needed was the CPS to authorise charges.