Not My Daughter

‘Yes, I’m sure,’ I murmur. It’s not my experience of work, but I was the only graduate apprentice in a small department, and Lara was not exactly the chummiest of bosses. In any case, I’ve never been particularly good at socialising anyway.

The IT department, however, is different; it is both nerdy and cool, with a lot of young guys in ironic T-shirts and statement glasses, and a few sharp-looking older ones in button-down shirts, skinny ties, and jeans. They joke they’re the IT of the IT, the cream of the crop, as Qi Tech specialises in troubleshooting companies’ IT issues, from dealing with databases to managing telephone systems, and our IT department deals with our own IT problems.

Sasha has fallen silent, and after waiting for her to speak and realising she isn’t going to, I try a gentle prompt. ‘So what happened, Sasha? What went wrong?’

‘I don’t know…’

‘You can tell me.’

‘And it won’t go any further?’ She asks this almost eagerly, and I hesitate. Surely she wouldn’t have come to me if she was unwilling for it to go any further? And yet she’s so young, only twenty-two or so, probably one of only a few women in the department, her whole career – her whole life – in front of her. I understand her not wanting this to derail her life, not to mention her job.

‘I can’t promise that, Sasha, because I don’t know what you’re about to tell me. But I can promise that I will not tell anyone else unless I judge it is legally and ethically necessary.’ I smile encouragingly at her and wait.

Sasha takes a deep, shuddery breath. ‘I don’t know, maybe it’s my fault,’ she says slowly. ‘I might have given out the wrong signals…’ She bites her lip, and I wish I could give her a hug.

‘The first thing we need to do is establish the facts of what happened. Can you tell me those, Sasha? Was there a particular incident – a conversation, or…?’ I trail off, waiting for her to fill in the unfortunate blanks.

‘I suppose there have been a few things… over time…’

I release a long, low breath. I still don’t know whom we’re talking about. ‘Okay…’

‘I don’t know, though.’ She looks at me miserably. ‘I don’t want to get him in trouble.’

I feel as if we’re circling around the vortex of the problem – the black hole of accusation and insinuation. ‘I understand you not wanting to cause trouble, Sasha, but that’s not what this meeting is about. If some kind of sexual harassment has occurred, then Qi Tech needs to know about it so we can deal with it appropriately. In a sense, the concern isn’t about you getting someone into trouble – it’s about the company’s responsibility towards all of its employees.’ It’s written in the employee handbook, although I don’t know if Lara would agree with me.

In my fourteen years at Qi Tech, all under Lara, we have had six official cases of sexual harassment. Four were dismissed, one was dropped by the accuser, and one was settled quietly, behind closed doors. All were essentially hushed up.

But the climate is different now; I think it’s better, even if Lara doesn’t, and we both know we have to be so very careful.

I pull a notepad towards me. ‘I need to make a record of this meeting, okay? Is that all right with you?’

‘Yes…’

‘So why don’t we start back at the beginning. You mentioned the atmosphere of the IT department, which you enjoyed. Jokey and friendly?’

‘Yes…’

‘But then something changed?’

‘Yes, with the Dobson account.’

I nod, although I’m not aware of the Dobson account. I’m aware of very little that Qi Tech does, and much more about how employees are paid and treated. I know about their illnesses, their time off for personal or sick leave, their pay rises and their bonuses, the staff that don’t get along and the ones who do – perhaps too much. But as for actual work?

‘We were staying late,’ Sasha continues haltingly. ‘Because we had to implement their new IT system by the end of the year.’

‘Right…’

‘And then, a few evenings, it was just me and… and Mike.’

Mike. My heart sinks a little. ‘Would this be Michael Jacobs you’re referring to?’

Sasha bites her lip and nods. Michael Jacobs is the head of IT, an affable guy in his forties, with a booming laugh and a backslapping manner. He’s friendly to everyone, knows most people’s names, and has been with the company for fifteen years. He has a wife who bakes brownies and sends them in with him regularly, and two young kids who have accompanied him on the Bring-Your-Kid-to-Work days Qi Tech sponsors every year. He’s a staple, practically an icon, here. This is not going to be easy.

I take a deep breath and place my hands flat on my desk. ‘So you and Michael Jacobs were working in the evenings – alone? There was no one else with you?’

‘Sometimes there was, but a couple of times there wasn’t.’

I pick up my pen once more. ‘And when you were alone…?’