Chapter 86
Chapter 86
‘I appreciate this is difficult for you, but please know that this is a safe space. I’m on your side and I can promise you that if a crime’s been committed, I will act.’
Helen’s tone was gentle, but her conviction strong, which seemed to have an effect on the witness. Tara Bridges had been diffident and uncomfortable from the start, clearly deeply uncomfortable at being in a police station. On more than one occasion, as Helen led her from the waiting area in the lobby to their most remote, most discreet interview suite, she’d been convinced that the young woman would change her mind, would turn on her heel and flee, having thought better of her rashness. Helen was working overtime to present herself as a benign, trusting, sisterly presence, but still Bridges seemed jumpy and distressed. Helen knew, however, that she had to keep her onside – something in Tara’s bearing, the fire in her eyes, told Helen that Bridges had something important to say.
‘Also, please know that I’m not here to judge you, or shame you, or belittle you in any way,’ Helen continued kindly. ‘I’m just here to listen.’
Bridges nodded gratefully, tugging distractedly at her watch strap, before running a hand through her long, silken hair. She was obviously trying to find the words, find her voice perhaps, so Helen said nothing, letting the young mum gather herself.
‘I … I saw the article in the newspapers, about PC Reynolds … so I got in touch with the journalist. We spoke and she said I should contact you directly.’
‘I’m very glad you did,’ Helen said encouragingly.
‘My … my name’s Tara Bridges and I’m the manager of the homeless centre on Lime Street.’
‘I know it well, a very fine institution. Been there long?’
‘Five years now,’ the manager responded, sounding a little more confident now. ‘And I’ve been working in the sector for over ten. It’s very close to my heart.’
Helen smiled, but said nothing, convinced there was more coming.
‘You see, fifteen years or so years back, I was homeless myself,’ Bridges continued. ‘My dad … well, he drank a lot, and Mum never called him on it, never pushed back, so in the end I had to go.’
Helen digested this, echoes of her own past punching through.
‘I was on the streets for eighteen months or more.’
‘How old were you at this time?’
‘Fifteen.’
‘That must have been very hard for you.’
Tara Bridges nodded but said nothing, suddenly looking anguished. It was obvious that this trip down memory lane was going to be difficult, even traumatic.
‘I … I went through a lot, every day was a fight to stay warm, to find enough to eat. Some people helped, some amazing kind-hearted people, but loads didn’t.’
She was building herself up to something, willing herself to have the courage to speak, so Helen remained quiet but supportive, silently urging her on.
‘One night … one night I was looking for a place to bed down near the docks when … when a police car pulled over. The officer got out, came over to talk to me …’
‘Did you catch his name?’
‘No, I never knew his name. Well, not until I saw the newspaper article. It was PC Reynolds.’
‘I see,’ Helen replied calmly. ‘And this was fifteen years ago?’
‘Yup, more or less.’
Helen digested this, deeply saddened for Tara, but also shocked by the extent of Reynolds’ criminality.
‘And what happened then?’
‘He … er … he asked me about myself, asked if I had family or friends who could help, and when I told him I didn’t have anybody, he said he would.’
Helen didn’t react, not trusting herself to speak. She could sense where this was heading.
‘Obviously I believed him. He seemed nice enough, plus he was a policeman. And I was desperate, really desperate. It was a freezing cold night and I hadn’t eaten in days …’
‘Did he offer to take you somewhere?’
Another brief nod.
‘He said he knew a hostel that would take me. That we could pick up some food on the way … so I got in the car. We … we drove for only a couple of minutes, then he pulled off into … into a side street.’
Her breathing was short now, as the memories gripped her, long-buried emotions surfacing.
‘Can you tell me what happened then? If you’re able to …?’ Helen prompted.
‘Well, then … then he got in the back with me, told me he wanted to chat. He … started pawing at me, trying to get me to kiss him. I said no, I screamed at him, tried to push him off, but he was too strong for me …’
She hung her head, gasping back a sob. Helen longed to pull Tara to her, to try and comfort her, but she knew she needed more.
‘Did … did PC Reynolds rape you, Tara?’
She nodded, but said nothing, unable to speak.
‘For the tape, the witness is nodding.’
Looking up, Tara’s tear-rimmed eyes spotted the recording device for the first time.
‘Yes … yes, he raped me,’ she confirmed. ‘More than once.’
Helen felt a wave of nausea, of anger, sweep over her. Struggling to maintain her composure, she asked:
‘How long were you in that car, do you think? If you can recall?’
‘A couple of hours, maybe more. I couldn’t fight him off, he’d put his cuffs on me, shoved a rag in my mouth …’
‘No one’s saying you should have, Tara. He was bigger than you, stronger …’
Tara nodded, but said nothing, suddenly right back in that car.
‘I’m sorry to have to ask you this, Tara, but what happened after that?’ Helen persisted.
‘Well, he drove me around a bit, then threw me out on the street again. I was in pieces, couldn’t believe what had happened, but I still told him what I thought of him. He didn’t seem to care though … He was totally relaxed, found the whole thing, found me , funny. I told him that I’d dob him in, but he just laughed. He said that I wouldn’t have the nerve to come forward and that if I did, I wouldn’t be believed. So in the end … I didn’t.’
This seemed to grieve Tara almost as much as the assault itself. Helen was depressed to see shame in her expression, as if she had somehow done something wrong.
‘I’ve never … I’ve never spoken about it until now,’ Bridges continued falteringly. ‘But if he went on to attack other girls, other women, all because I didn’t have the courage to come forward—’
‘No, Tara, none of this is your fault,’ Helen interjected firmly. ‘It’s his and his alone. You’ve been incredibly brave, in getting through this, in making a life for yourself, in coming forward now. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the courage of people like you, these people would never be called to account. You’ve got nothing to reproach yourself for.’
The young manager nodded, but didn’t seem entirely convinced, clearly riddled with guilt.
‘PC Reynolds is the only person to blame here,’ Helen continued. ‘He alone is responsible for all this pain, all this heartache, but now, thanks to you, he is going to pay for his crimes, I can assure you of that.’
Now Tara Bridges did look up. Her expression was still troubled but Helen now saw something else there too – hope. Helen felt a surge of adrenaline. From the off, people had questioned her judgement, queried her suspicions, but now she felt fully vindicated. She had appealed to other victims to come forward, convinced there would be other women who’d suffered at Reynolds’ hands, and Tara Bridges had the courage to do just that, to find her voice. It made Helen all the more determined to ensure Tara and others like her received the justice they deserved, to bring an end to Reynolds’ long reign of terror.
‘You will get him, won’t you?’ Tara asked, pulling Helen back to the present.
The young manager suddenly looked scared, fearing perhaps that Reynolds might seek her out, so Helen was quick to reassure her:
‘You have my word,’ she insisted, reaching out to take Tara’s hand in hers. ‘I will not rest until PC David Reynolds is where he belongs. Behind bars.’