The next day, I head back into work frazzled and extremely anxious. Worried that I will see him and worried about what will happen when I report yesterday with absolutely no evidence other than my word. I walk over to a supervisor and I say, “I need to report something about a colleague”. I briefly tell the supervisor the comments made to me and he tells me to write it in an email to him and that he will pass it to the Duty Officer and let me know what will happen after. I do this and then I take 999 calls whilst anxiously waiting to a) see what they will say and b) to keep an eye if I see the colleague I have just reported. Queue the tummy ache.
This is a horrible feeling. I am so relieved I have told someone, but the unknown of what will happen and the thought of what if nothing happens after all of this is a lot. At least I have done the right thing. Calling rape victims sluts and immigrants should f**k off back home as-well as mentioning Sarah is just not okay. Not to mention the way he weirdly changed his journey to go home along side me.
The Duty Officer comes over to me and tells me that he has forwarded my complaint to the Professional Standards who will contact me and tell me what will happen and that I should go home as the colleague was about to come in for his shift. Wow, I feel so grateful that they actually care enough about my wellbeing that they are letting me go home today. Maybe I have stressed hair or the anxiety is very obvious but, I am just about to have 6 days off which, needless to say, is needed. They tell me that I will be called whilst I am off with an update and a welfare officer to support me. Great, I’ll definitely be needing that. They also tell me all supervisors will be made aware so I am not seated near him in the future. Amazing. So I go home and wait for a call.
6 days have gone past and no one has contacted me. Nothing but silence. I don’t know if the colleague has been told I reported him. I don’t know if anything has been done. I am ridden with panic and bad butterflies and I’m due to work tomorrow. I text my line manager to find out that he hasn’t been told anything and he tries to go to the Professional Standards but can’t find out anything either. Fab. I guess I’m walking into the unknown tomorrow.
I walk into the office, find a seat in the corner next to my best friend and settle in for the shift. I scour the pod just to make sure that I can’t see him anywhere near me and begin to take emergency calls. An hour goes by and I won’t lie, I thought someone would come to check in with me or that I’d have recieved an email whilst I was off about my complaint but there is nothing. Silence.
A supervisor approaches me a little while later and asks me if I can switch roles due to staff shortages and work on the online reports but when I look over to their corner, I see him. Immediately my tummy drops. Don’t they know I have reported him? Why would they ask me to work with him? Is this real?
Tears explode from my eyes without my permission and instantly all that anxiety floods out. I plead that I can’t do it because I have recently reported someone working in that corner and it would be too uncomfortable for me. The supervisor looks awkward (I probably would be too because I was in such a state) and says he was aware of someone making a complaint but didn’t know the ins and outs or who made the complaint. Amazing. What use is that. I walk out with my friend and take a few moments to collect my emotions and pull myself together.
When the tears dry away, I now feel myself boiling with rage. How can I just be left in the lurch like this. What on earth is going on?! So I speak to the supervisor that just approached me to find out anything I can. I explain what happened last week and my report and he says that he knows that someone made a report about said colleague and that said colleague has been given a welfare officer and investigation officer now that he’s under investigation. Again, what the hell? I have recieved zero communication from anyone yet he has gotten more support and information about what is happening? The supervisor tells me he knows that he got a welfare officer because the Met need to make sure they cover themself if said colleague were to do anything to himself now his job is on the line. Huh? I mean okay fine I get that, but what about me? I have spent the last 7 days pacing, waiting for a phone call about what will happen to then return to work with no one even checking in on me and then asked to work with the guy I reported.
The supervisor tells me that the Duty Officer is very sorry and has been very busy so checking in on me has been forgotten. Wtf. I am fuming. Raging. I do what you ask of me, I report wrong doing and all you do is put me in this horrible position. This is not good enough. I won’t accept this, so I demand to speak to the Duty Officer. As I approach their office, I can hear multiple voices and echos of laughter bouncing down the hallway. Busy? Right.
Me and my red face head into the office to speak to Ma’am who says she is very sorry that she didn’t get to speak to me and that she has just been so busy (as she put the box of celebrations to the side). Pisstake. She goes on to say that she is thankful that I reported what had happened and I ask her what is going to happen and why don’t the supervisors know about this so they know not to make me work with him? She says she will not be telling every supervisor because that isn’t for them to know. Brilliant, I’ll have to explain it all to each and every supervisor if anything happens. Makes sense, not. She goes onto tell me that she is aware of this colleague as there have been other reports of things he has done. Wow. And that the Met is taking this very seriously mainly due to Sarah’s name being mentioned. Fair, but the other comments are bad too no? Mind = blown. She tells me she doesn’t know what the next stage is but that someone should contact me and that the supervisor that saw me cry today can be my welfare officer if I want one. Want one? I need one ffs. And nice, just appoint anyone who finds me crying.
I leave and go back to my desk. “Police, what’s the emergency?” I say.
I hate this place.
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