Tequila. Vodka Red Bull. A Naked Staffer Found on a Minister’s Couch.

Every living room in Australia must’ve watched those two young staffers—Brittany Higgins and Bruce Lehrmann—play out their tragedy in public. We weren’t just spectators; we were jurors, psychologists, and gossip columnists rolled into one.

I rarely comment on political matters. There’s enough political content out there to satisfy interested parties several times over. But occasionally, something there catches my eye. It’s not policy or vote-grabbing that stops me. It’s the grubby world of work and interpersonal relationships in the workplace that piques my interest.

I recall hearing the first murmurs of their sordid sex tale in 2019. It began as whispers from Parliament House—something about a hook up, a possible affair or perhaps abuse—and then it exploded after she filed a complaint with Federal Police almost two years later. She went the whole distance and claimed she was raped.

What I saw in that CCTV footage never left me. Two people, half drunk, downright flirtatious, passing through security. She trots after him through the doorway, light on her feet, as though it was game on. He lets her catch up as they disappear into the building complex. It could’ve been any pair of colleagues who blurred the line between attraction and carelessness after too many drinks. But the next morning, that exact moment would be frozen, dissected, and rewritten into a story of predator and victim.

She was found sleeping naked on a couch, and he was gone. But was the predator/victim arc the right one to follow? Was Bruce guilty of anything more than ungentlemanly behaviour in not seeing her safely to her home?

From the start, Brittany was allowed the grace of emotion, while Bruce was publicly scolded and stood down. Judgments were passed long before evidence ever reached a courtroom. When she cried, we listened. The Prime Minister apologised for things yet to be determined.

When Bruce denied wrongdoing, we doubted quickly. Maybe that was fair—our sympathies naturally lean toward the person who says they’ve been hurt. Yet as the months rolled by and the facts grew more complicated, the neat roles began to unravel.

The further the trial went, the less certain I became of anything. It no longer looked like a clear-cut crime, but a night of blurred memory, impaired judgment, political and personal panic. Everyone became involved—ministers, a Prime Minister, chiefs of staff, journalists—scrambled to protect their jobs, reputations, and private relationships.

I often think of the security guard who found Brittany sleeping naked on Linda Reynold’s office couch the next morning. What must she have thought about when seeing her? Shocked? Confused? Why would a young lady be sleeping like that there? That image alone could have forced the story’s shape—what explanation could make sense of it? Maybe, to survive the scrutiny, everyone clung to the version that protected them best.

I’m not saying they didn’t have sex in the wee small hours of the night. But rape? I don’t see it. What I find is a cover-up of embarrassment. Two people caught in an intense spotlight of shame and guilt, which escalated to a place it shouldn’t have. Pandora’s box had opened.

And then came the payouts, the book deals, the sacking, the lawsuits, the apologies. Australia turned what should’ve been private chaos into public theatre, and we all bought tickets to the show (and got ourselves some nice merchandise, too – LOL!).

For a while, we lived vicariously through their dirty little secret, dividing ourselves into tribes: believers and doubters, feminists and cynics, victims and villains.

Maybe that’s what we do best—build simple, good versus evil stories around the lives of complex people. But this one should never have gone to court. It should have stayed with what it began as: a regrettable night between two young, careless, drunk staffers who learned too late what happens when politics, alcohol, social media, media, and ambition collide.

–Michael (Dark fiction. Author of SEETHINGS (the first book), free for a limited time)