She did. She had told me so, in my own kitchen, repeatedly, because she was my friend.
Every true thing she had ever noticed about me as a friend went into a document as a concern from a colleague.
She tried to take it back.
On the ninth of April, 2024 — two months after I signed the settlement, three months before her son was born — Yvie Grear wrote to the regulator asking to withdraw her statement.
Two paragraphs. It says she signed it believing it was a welfare referral, that she had not understood it would form part of a complaint about my fitness to practise, and that she did not wish it to be relied upon.
It is in the file. It is stamped. It was received.
Nobody told me. That is not sinister; it is how those processes work. It went on the file and the investigation continued and closed five months later, and the letter sat there, and I did not know it existed until the twenty-third of July, 2025, in a hospital corridor with a broken bottle on the floor.
What I did with that.
She was referred to her own regulator in the November of 2025, as the inevitable consequence of signing a statement in a malicious complaint.
