SHORT STORY

ID cards. They will protect us from criminals, yes?

I‘m walking home, late at night. I’ve been visiting a friend. Footsteps behind me in the alleyway, getting closer. An arm on my shoulder, a hand tries to snatch my bag. I twist round and look the mugger in the face. I try to diffuse the situation with humor.

"Now, before you do this I would like to see your identity card. They are supposed to stop crime you know."

A howl of derision from the baseball capped youth. His eyes are manic. Suddenly I feel very scared. He shoves me against a wall and pins me across the chest with one arm. A knife appears as he tells me

"Lady, ain’t no bit of plastic ain't gonna to save you now."

Later, at the police station, DNA samples of his skin are taken from under my fingernails. These, plus semen samples, are sent to the labs for analysis and cross matching to the National ID register.

I sit huddled in a stark white dressing gown in the doctor's office and wait to be told when I can get dressed. A nurse is gently explaining the advisability of getting tested for sexually transmitted diseases. Oh, and just to screw me up even more, I am given a little packet which contains two pills. Morning after pills.

At home now, curled up in bed, hugging the pillow. Hubby is concerned."Don't worry love. You say gave the police a good description? With that and the fingerprints from your coat they will soon have him matched up with the register. Then all they have to do is wait till he uses his card. As soon as he goes through the retinal scanner it will alert the NIDC. He'll be picked up straight away. You should have rung me to come and get you. I was worried when you were so late. Thought maybe you'd stayed over at Kate’s." His voice fades as sleep finally lets me escape from the trauma of the evening.

This morning, after he has kissed me goodbye, not noticing me flinch, and left for his job at the NIDC, I potter about the house. I'm moving slowly. I ache all over. I jarred my back when the rapist pushed me to the ground. There are bruises on my throat and arms and inside me.... inside me feels like someone stuck a knife in and twisted it round.

I call Kate.

"Oh my God! Does Jake know? I'm coming over right now. Is there anything you need? Milk, painkillers, fags? I know you gave up but..."I tell her to bring me some cigarettes and some paracetamols.

While I'm waiting I get a drink of water and wash down the first of the little white pills that the police doctor gave me. Some words from a song I haven't heard for years runs through my mind."Wash away the pain" I add my line

"Will it make me whole again"

No. Nothing can ever make me whole again. Violation. Always an abstract word before. I’ve read and seen accounts from rape victims but nothing can prepare you for this. I shower again. Last night in the police station they let me take a shower after the examination. The second invasion of my body. The doctor was kind and as gentle as she could be, taking the swabs, checking for damage. I turn the power jets to hot and lather myself in soap. No pore of my being is left un scrubbed.

Kate has arrived and we sit at the kitchen table. She lights my cigarette and guides my hand to my coffee cup. I am shaking as I tell her what happened. Coffee slops out of my cup. I spare her no details.

"Christ Annie, I wish I'd given you a lift home. Do you think they will catch the little bastard? If they’ve got his DNA it's only a matter of time surely?"

I tell her that Jake is going to contact the officer dealing with my case. Oh yes, they gave me a crime number to quote in case I remember anything that might be significant. That's what I am now. A number in another system. Jake works for the National Identity Centre and thinks he might be able to pull some strings. Fast track the DNA matching. Jake has always been a strong advocate of national ID cards. We even have a retinal scanner installed on our security system. Even I thought it was a good idea at the time. I'm more skeptical now.

"He must be local", Kate is saying, "It was after eleven. He must have been lurking around waiting for a victim. Do you think you'd recognize him in the daylight?"

Her words plunge me right back into the moment when he stared into my eyes and told me not to scream or he'd slit my throat. I run to the sink and vomit, not caring that the breakfast washing up is still in there.

"Yes. I'd recognize him. I'm not going out looking for him though, if that's what you’re thinking."

Kate says that's a pity because if I pointed him out to her she would get him in an alley and slice his balls off."

This actually evinces a small laugh from me and I let go of some of my tension. I reach for another cigarette.

"You would have to wear gloves so that your DNA couldn't be traced. I have been thinking like that for half the night Kate. Wondering If I would have the bottle to go through with it but my Gran's phrase 'Two wrongs don't make a right’ keeps shouting in my brain. Mind you, she'd have probably gone out and belted him to death with washing pole if she was still around."

Feeling a bit better now. Kate's company and the fags have helped. We spend the morning together. Kate cleans the mess in the sink and we drink more coffees as we rant and put the world to rights.

Jake is snoring but I can't sleep. He tried to cuddle me when we got into bed but I pleaded a headache. No match on the DNA. Surprise, surprise! It seems that the little shit probably doesn't have an ID card. Well, at thirty pounds each I'm not surprised a scruffy little low life like him wouldn't have one. He's one of those 'not in the system, or NIS' Jake calls them, people who live on the edges of this wonderful new order we are living in. The police suggested a re-enactment on the Crime Stoppers programme; Don’t know how I feel about that. The thought of him seeing it and smirking. Maybe he might find me and really use the knife. Get rid of the only person who can identify him.

Going out with Kate today. First time I will have left the house since the attack. Feel a bit wobbly about it but we are going in her car to the out of town shopping centre. Staying in the crowds. She's still muttering about finding the guy and scaring the shit out of him.

Retail therapy Kate calls it. I threw away all the clothes I was wearing that night. We are in Debenhams shopping for new underwear when we notice the girl. Kate remarks on her scruffy appearance.

"She looks a bit sus. Doesn't look like she can afford to shop here."

I tell Kate she is a snob and she laughs. We watch the girl take three jumpers into the changing room. I choose some plain white knickers and bras. Can't bring myself to get anything remotely sexy.

At the cash desk now and we spot the girl paying for one jumper. She looks a bit fatter than before but we don't alert the sales staff. Don't want to get caught up in a shop floor drama.

We follow her out of the shop and watch as she goes over to a lad who is lounging on a bench by the fountain.

I feel sick. Almost fainting as I realize who he is. Kate is holding my arm and steering me into a coffee shop.

"What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"It's him. That boy the shoplifter's with."

Kate's attention is now on the couple. The young man is holding the girl’s arm. She looks upset as he propels her towards the toilet area. I am shaking now. The memory flooding back. Kate has jumped up from her seat.

"Stay there," she orders get a coffee, act normal."

"Normal! My life will never be normal again. I do as she says and order a latte. I find the smoking section and sit, stirring in sugar after sugar. I drink the coffee slowly and chain smoke. Wondering if Kate has gone to call the police.

Still waiting. It's been half an hour and I have drunk two coffees, smoked six fags and read the daily newspaper. Well, tried to read. My attention was not exactly on the article about the new advances in biometric scanning which I skimmed several times.

Kate is back. She looks a little out of breath. She dumps a carrier bag on the floor. I ask her what is in it. She wasn't carrying anything when she left to follow the couple.

"Oh, just some rubber gloves and a carving knife I bought from the kitchen shop. Come on. Let's get you home. Don't have to worry any more lovey. He won't bother you ever again."

What!!!

"What have you done”, I whisper." A hard, cold feeling in the pit of my stomach. Kate had a strange look on her face.

To be continued........