To help out his sister, Chris has agreed to work in his sister’s cafe in Mevagissey for the holiday break from university. due to staff problems Chris has been coaxed into working as Chrissie.
Chapter 2,
Girls need to take more care
I had a bit of a lie-in whilst Jilly got ready and went off to the cafe and as it was a glorious calm sunny day after breakfast I got dressed in shorts and tee shirt but with my styled hair, my trimmed eyebrows, and sinewy frame I still looked a bit girly, but if I was going to keep working in the cafe, I couldn’t go back to “butch” easily. I thought I would have a quick bike ride up to the Lost Gardens of Heligan, a tourist venue about 20 minutes out of town, to have a wander around the magnificent garden displays including the wilder more overgrown and wooded valley. Entry can be quite expensive for a day visit, although it is a site well worth a visit, but local residents can get a discounted annual pass for the price of a normal day entry charge, and for students like me it is even cheaper, so it is easy and cheap to make regular visits to see the changes throughout the seasons and I was a frequent visitor.
Whilst a lot of the visitors tend to stay in the main areas near the entrance, the cafe and shops, the formal gardens, the walled garden, and the farm areas, I prefer to go down into “The Lost Valley” and “The Jungle” where there are some amazing wilder areas, with giant bamboos, ferns, and what look like giant Rhubarb leaves, I can never remember their name.
When I was in one of the wilder parts where not too many people visit, I was surprised and worried to see coming down the path towards me the three troublemakers from the cafe.
“Hey lads look who we have here, it’s the snobby bitch from the cafe, I wonder if she’ll be as brave when her friends are not around.”
“ Right fellas” I replied, I don’t want any trouble, I don’t know who you think I am, but I’ve never seen you before”
The main mouthy guy looked at me again, and turned to his mates, “ I think we made a mistake, we’ve got ourselves a little girly-boy.”
“You are not a good liar, you know who we are and we know who you are. Do you realise that because of you our holiday has been ruined, word got around about what happened at the cafe and we got kicked out of our place and couldn’t get booked into anywhere else . We are having to go back home and we have lost a lot of money. However you have now made my day and at least I will go home with a smile on my face.” He then grabbed me and dragged me into the undergrowth, I had no chance to get away, he was far too big and strong for me. “You two go up and down the path and keep a lookout for anyone coming, while I teach this little weirdo what it really means to be a girl.“
He threw me to the ground drew a knife on me and threatened to use it unless I shut up and did as I was told. He pulled down my shorts and underpants and made me kneel down with my back to him. The next five minutes was the most painful in my life as he roughly penetrated me and pumped at me again and again, I had a knife at my neck and just had to let him rape me. When he was satisfied he got off, pulled up his trousers, and casually walked off to join his friends, with a parting comment of “ Now go back to your friends in the cafe, you should fit in better with them after that.”
I just lay there in a state of shock and agony not knowing what to do. I felt disgusted and humiliated, but I didn’t want to call the police as my story would soon be the talk of the town and I would lose whatever friends I had, and besides, the evil excuse for a man was probably well on his way back home, wherever that was. When women are raped they get a lot of sympathy from friends but male victims become the butt of jokes, innuendo and people become uncomfortable with them. I also felt ashamed that I had not resisted more and just let him do as he wished, and so I did not wish to report it to the police or the Garden security staff.
I couldn’t face a bike ride back home, I was too sore, so I had no choice but to phone Mum and ask her to drive over, meet me at the entrance to the gardens and pick me up. I told her that I had a problem with my bike and needed a lift home. However when I met her I just broke down, burst into tears’ and just sat in the car until I gathered myself together enough to tell her what had happened. She wanted take me to the A&E at the hospital up at Truro, I insisted that we just go home. Despite my protests we ended up at the Police Station in St Austell, where after assurances of confidentiality I reported what had happened to me, was physically examined by a doctor called in by the police, which was almost as traumatic as the actual assault, declared to have no major damage to my internal tissues, and sent home, without a lot of hope that there would be a successful result.
It was late when we got back and Jilly was already home, worried about where we were, and obviously wanted the full details of all that had happened. I just didn’t want to go through it all again, after having told Mum, the Police, and the doctor, and went up to my room leaving Mum to fill in the details. Later Jilly came up and sat with me, full of sympathy, said the least of my concerns was work the next day, and that her and the girls would manage at the cafe, and Mum would stay at home to keep me company. One of the wisest things she said was that most girls have had some sort of sexual encounter that they regretted and that had gone a bit further than they would have wished, even if not actual rape, and the best thing would be to put in into the back of my mind, and get on with my life - yes, easy to say but harder to do.
After a couple of days I did return to work, but as Chris working in the kitchen, dressing as a girl again would only keep my treatment as a girl right up to the front of my mind, and I just didn’t want to face the customers more than necessary. I didn’t mind getting up early to do the kitchen shift as I was only sleeping fitfully and having flashback memories of the assault. Things were not getting any better and Mum suggested I needed some counselling to try and help me come to terms with what had happened. I was coming to this conclusion myself as part of my university studies stressed the benefits of self-help discussions as a means to go forward.
Most of the rape and abuse support groups are heavily slanted towards women and girls, but I did find one in St Austell that also worked with male victims. However when I contacted them, the group leader, Sandy, said that at the moment there were no other men attending the sessions, and asked whether I would be comfortable talking to a support group of women. This didn’t bother me too much and we agreed that I would turn up halfway through the session to give Sandy an opportunity to tell the group that I would be joining them.
When I arrived I waited outside the room for a while listening to the conversation and was shocked at the level of hostility towards men in general and to my joining the group in particular. I almost walked away but decided that it might help me face my demons if I first faced the anger of these women, and so entered the room.
“What is he doing here? After all I have been through the last thing I want is some man looking for sympathy from us, all men are pigs!” screamed one of the women.
“Calm down,” Sandy interrupted, “at least let him tell you what he has been through and why he is here.”.
“Thank you Sandy. My name is Chris, and like you all I am the victim of a violent assault, actually a rape. Like you all I was violated and penetrated and forced to have sex against my will, I was threatened with a knife at my throat, Like probably you all, it is preying on my mind causing me sleepless nights and constant worry. Like you all I feel used, abused, ashamed, and dirty. However, probably unlike you all I also feel inadequate and humiliated because, as a man, I think that I should have done more to protect myself and fight off my attacker. All men are not pigs, as one of you said, many of us, probably most of us, are kind, considerate, and not at all violent, Please accept that men suffer too. I believe that by sharing our experiences and thoughts that we can all help each other to rationalise what we have been through and move on, and I hope that you can allow me to attend your meetings and maybe give a slightly different perspective on things.”
“Wow! !! “ Sandy said ”That was some speech, usually at their first session most newcomers just sit quietly in the corner listening to what others have to say. Does anyone wish to reply to any of that?”
“ Hello Chris, my name is Louise, I’m the one who said all men are pigs. As Sandy said, that was some introduction, and you sounded so sincere, I for one am now quite prepared to accept you being here.” I left the room to give them a chance to talk about me for a few minutes, and was surprised when it was Louise who came out to get me to go back. It was a group discussion with everyone giving their thoughts and others adding their comments. I was surprised that, despite the obvious physical differences of my assault, there were a lot of common feelings of nightmares, flashbacks, insecurities and worries. At the end of the session I shared with them Jilly’s advice to me about putting things to the back of the mind and getting on with life.
After a couple of these sessions everyone was getting a bit more relaxed, and my comments were becoming as accepted, or criticised, in the same manner as everyone else’s. At the end of one session Louise, Sandy, and a couple of the others said they were going for a quick drink and invited me to join them. Over a glass of wine, or beer in my case, they all said that my being at the sessions had really helped them, especially the advice from Jilly. Previously, the discussions had tended to be a bit of a bitching session about men and wallowing in mutual pity, but the way I talked to them was helping them to rationalise and think things through a bit more, and at least get back to some degree of normality, although there was still deep distrust of men in general. These after-meeting drinks became a regular event and we all became friends, especially Louise and I. I was also beginning to be able to relax and was sleeping better, and was generally more comfortable at work, but Chrissie did not make any more appearances.
Soon it was time for me to go back to University for the final year of my degree course. I lived on the campus as it was too far to drive back and forth every day, and so the work at the cafe ended, the holiday season was winding down anyway. I still managed to get to the group sessions but because I was now in Sociology student mode, I found that I was beginning to become as much a counsellor as a participant, but none of the group seemed to notice, or mind.
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To be continued
