Don't Let Me Go (44 page)

Had it been impulsive?

‘I’ve wanted to do that for some time,’ he’d told her after their first kiss last night.

‘Would you mind,’ she’d whispered, her lips still very close to his, ‘doing it again?’

And so he’d swept her against him, pushing his tongue into her mouth and letting her whole body know how powerfully he desired her.

It had all felt so natural, so necessary and fraught with the need to be as close as their bodies would allow. Their clothes were strewn across the floor like stepping stones into the bedroom; the wine he’d poured later was still in glasses each side of the bed – they’d been too eager to make love again to drink it.

She wanted to put a hand on his chest, to rub her cheek over the stubble on his chin, to wrap her legs around him and feel him entering her again.

So why didn’t she?

What was it about morning that turned lovers into strangers and stole courage and confidence away?

Flipping back the sheet she rose carefully from the bed, not wanting to disturb him, and taking her robe from behind the door she crossed the hall into the main bathroom. There were few supplies in the cabinet, but enough for her to rinse her mouth with toothpaste and run a comb through her knotted hair. Her eyes looked almost feverishly bright, she realised, as she peered at herself in the mirror, and the creamy texture of her cheeks seemed to glow, as though the feelings inside her were burning through her skin. She thought of his hands on her body, and gave a gasp as the pleasure of it shot forcefully through her.

Please don’t let him regret it.

Please don’t let this turn into the biggest mistake of my life.

It didn’t feel wrong; it felt like the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to her, but how were they to go forward from here? Was it possible for him to remain as her lawyer? She was depending on him to keep her out of prison, even to get Chloe back for her . . .

Chloe.

Her heart seemed to collapse around the name. What had been happening to her through the night while she, Charlotte, had forgotten all about her?
Please let her have been sleeping peacefully; let her never know that there had been even a minute when she wasn’t uppermost in my mind
.

‘You can’t make your whole life about Chloe.’ Her mother’s words came back to her like a lost echo finding its way home.

Going to the kitchen she made a pot of coffee and carried a mug through to the sitting room where she stood at the window, gazing down at the empty carousel. She was like a bereaved mother longing for her lost child, but at least she had the comfort of knowing Chloe was alive, small though that comfort felt at times. Had she let her down by doing what she had last night? Had she allowed an overwhelming physical desire to put their future in jeopardy?

It was a relationship that couldn’t possibly go anywhere, so what did she expect to happen now? The truth was, she expected, or at least longed for, so many things that the euphoria and trepidation of her dreams was too tangled to allow her happiness to last, or her fears to take root. She wanted Anthony to come and put his arms around her and tell her that nothing had changed, but how could he do that when everything had?

Hearing him enter the room she turned to look at him, and her breath caught around her heart. He was naked and semi-aroused, and looking at her in a way that increased the turbulence inside her.

Coming to her he took the mug from her hand, put it on the table, and unbelted her robe. ‘What are you thinking about?’ he whispered, sliding his hands on to her hips.

Her desire was so intense it wasn’t easy to speak. ‘I hardly know where to begin,’ she replied shakily.

‘Are you sorry? Upset?’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Just afraid that you’ll have to stop being my lawyer, and I . . .’

‘It’s not going to happen,’ he told her. ‘We’ll have to keep it to ourselves, of course, but we don’t need to discuss it now,’ and easing the robe from her shoulders, he pressed his mouth to hers and began making love to her all over again.

Chloe was curled up on a bed with Boots, facing a wall that had big flowers splashed all over it and words she didn’t understand scribbled all over them. She thought the words had been written on with biros and pencils, but the flowers were part of the paper that was peeling back at the top and scuffed and broken all down the edges.

The bed didn’t smell very nice, not like her bed at the bach, which had smelled of soap and Mummy and other good things.

Was it her fault Carrie had fallen off the ladder?

It had scared her so much when it happened that she’d run and hidden under the stairs, but then Carrie had told her she had to come and help, so she’d done as she was told and pressed some numbers into the phone.

It had scared her again when lots of people had come crowding into the house. She’d kept looking for Mummy, but she hadn’t been with them. Carrie had been crying, she was hurting so much.

If Carrie hadn’t put Boots up on the bookcase it wouldn’t have happened, but Chloe hadn’t told anyone that because she didn’t want to get Carrie, or Boots, into trouble. Nor did she want to talk to anyone except Mummy and Nanna – and Grandpa, because she had to be nice to him.

The lady who’d brought her here to this house was called Alice. She’d said that she didn’t really like being called out in the middle of the night, but someone had to do it, and it was her turn.

‘We’ve found a place to tide you over,’ she’d told her, ‘it shouldn’t be for long.’

Chloe had hung her head. She didn’t want to go with the lady, or talk to her, or do anything except find Mummy, but Mummy was feeling such a long way away now that she was beginning to think she wouldn’t ever come.

‘You blubbing again?’ the girl on the other bed snapped. ‘Can’t you shut up for five minutes?’

The girl’s name was Carla and she was
fourteen for God’s sake
. That was what she’d shouted down the stairs to the man and lady who lived in the house, who were called Dave and Mel. There was a boy here too called Ashley who was about the same age as Danni, but he had a different colour skin and spoke in a way Chloe didn’t understand. He had his own bedroom along the landing and Carla said he hardly ever came out of it.

‘Thank God, mouthy little shit,’ she’d added.

Chloe didn’t want to go out of the bedroom either, because Dave was downstairs and he had a computer and looked a bit like Daddy and she didn’t want to play ride the tiger ever again. Except with Grandpa, if it would make Mummy love her and take her back to the bach.

Mel said she had to stay in this room till she found her manners and told them her name.

‘Tell her to fuck off next time,’ Carla had advised. ‘She’s just a sad, fat old cow who’s only doing this for the money, because that lazy arsehole she’s married to can’t be bothered to get a job.’

Chloe hadn’t understood very much of that, but she did understand that Carla didn’t want to be stared at, so she was doing as she was told and lying with her face to the wall while Carla crayoned in her eyes and rubbed something over her skin to turn it the same colour as Ashley’s.

‘I don’t give a fuck what they say,’ Carla suddenly spat angrily, ‘I’m going out to meet me mates and that’s that. Have you got any money?’

Chloe wasn’t sure if Carla was talking to her so she stayed as she was, clinging on to Boots.

‘Oi, you,’ Carla shouted, ‘I said have you got any money?’ and grabbing Chloe she spun her on to her back to search the pockets of her jeans. ‘Should have known,’ she snorted when she found they were empty. ‘They don’t never let you have nothing once they takes you into care.’ She picked up a file and began rubbing it around her nails, the way Mummy and Nanna sometimes did theirs.

Feeling another sob rising up in her throat Chloe turned back to the wall, afraid Carla would see she was crying and shout at her again.

‘So where’s your old lady then?’ Carla demanded. ‘Or was it your dad who dumped you on the street? That’s what mine did to me, the fucker. I’m so going to damage him when I get back there. He’s taking it out on me because my old lady run off with some muppet from Birmingham. Don’t blame her meself, cos all my bastard dad ever did was knock her about and take all her cash. Fucking men, I hate ’em. Total waste of skin if you ask me.’

Chloe kept her face to the wall and jumped as Carla banged abruptly out of the room and thundered down the stairs.

‘Oi! Where do you think you’re going?’ Chloe heard someone shout.

‘Mind your own fucking business,’ Carla shouted back.

The door slammed and for a long time there was nothing to hear, apart from the TV downstairs and the roar of traffic outside.

Chloe was hungry, but she couldn’t tell anyone because it would mean having to speak and if she said something wrong, like she used to with Daddy, she’d have to be punished, and then she might wet herself and she’d have to be punished again. So she stayed curled up in a ball with Boots, hoping Mel and Dave would forget she was there and that Carla would come back with some biscuits or sweets she was willing to share.

Or Mummy would come to find her.

She wanted to go to the toilet now, so badly that she couldn’t wait any longer, so getting up from the bed she crept out to the landing, taking Boots with her, because he was brave, and tried to remember which door was the bathroom. Finding the right one she went inside, pulled down her jeans and pants and tried to get up on the toilet. It was too high, she kept sliding off and then she was weeing all over her legs and the floor and couldn’t make herself stop.

‘What the bloody hell’s going on here?’ Mel demanded, coming in with her hand on her chest as she coughed and retched and sounded as though she was going to be sick. ‘Oh for God’s sake, look at the mess you’re in,’ she wheezed, hauling Chloe up by one arm and standing her on her feet.

‘No, no, don’t pull hair,’ Chloe cried, cowering away. ‘Please don’t pull hair.’

‘What?’ Mel snorted. ‘What’s the matter with you? I’m not going to pull your hair, you stupid child. Come here! Look at the state of you, peeing all over yourself. You’re old enough to know better. How old are you?’

Chloe put her head down and tried to struggle up her jeans.

‘No, no, no, they’ll have to go in the wash now,’ Mel snapped. ‘Take ’em off. Have you got any clean pants in the bag you came with? You better have, or you’ll be going without until these dry. Oh, for the love of God, who’s that knocking at the door now?
Dave,
can you get that?’ and sitting Chloe on the cold tiled floor she began tugging off her trainers so she could start sorting her out.

A couple of minutes later Dave shouted from the bottom of the stairs, ‘It’s someone from social services about the new kid.’

‘Just who we need,’ Mel muttered with a cough. ‘Is it Alice? Tell her to come up.’

By the time the bathroom door opened Chloe was standing in an empty bath wearing only her vest.

‘Oh dear, oh dear, what’s happened?’ Tracy murmured, going straight to her as she saw how hard she was crying. ‘What’s the matter, my love? Did you have a bit of an accident?’

As Chloe nodded, Mel eyed Tracy with some suspicion. ‘Are you new?’ she asked. ‘Don’t think I’ve seen you before.’

‘That’s because I’m with Dean Valley,’ Tracy explained. ‘Chloe here is one of my girls, aren’t you sweetie? Oh now, don’t get yourself into a state, everything’s going to be all right.’

‘So if she’s with you, what the bloomin’ heck’s she doing all the way up here with me?’ Mel wanted to know.

Dabbing Chloe’s cheeks with a towel, Tracy said, ‘Why don’t we get her cleaned up, then we can talk? Does she have any fresh clothes?’

‘I’m hoping so. I’ll go and check the bag she came with.’

Left alone with Chloe, Tracy said, ‘You poor little thing. What an awful weekend you’ve had, what with Carrie falling over and all those policemen and paramedics coming to the house. Then you had to go off with someone you didn’t know. It was all a bit of an emergency, I’m afraid, so it couldn’t be helped, but you don’t have to worry. I’ve found a lovely place for you to go next. It’s not all that far from here with a very nice lady called Jane. Unfortunately, she won’t be ready to take you until Thursday, which is three days from now, so you’ll have to stay here till then, but when you get there you’ll have your own bedroom and lots of toys to play with and a garden with a swing. You’ll like that, won’t you?’

‘Go to Mummy?’ Chloe gasped through her sobs.

‘Sssh, sssh,’ Tracy soothed, lifting her up. ‘I’m going to give you a nice little wash now, and I’ve brought some biscuits and orange juice with me which you can have when you’re dressed.’

By the time she had Chloe sitting on the bed with a biscuit and carton of orange, Mel was in the midst of a coughing fit that would have alarmed Tracy greatly if she’d cared enough. ‘Are you OK?’ she asked, as Mel panted her way out to the landing.

‘Yeah, yeah, I’ll be all right,’ Mel rasped, dabbing the tears from her eyes. ‘So what’s going on then? How long’s she going to be here?’

‘Until Thursday if that’s OK,’ Tracy replied. ‘She shouldn’t have been brought here in the first place, actually, because she’s supposed to be with a single woman who has no other children in residence, but the local authority wasn’t to know that, with her being under our care . . .’

Mel waved a hand as she started to cough again. ‘Well, it all sounds cock-eyed to me,’ she finally managed, ‘but as long as I get what I’m due . . .’

‘Of course you will. I’m just sorry I can’t take her with me today, but I’ll be back first thing on Thursday. Meantime, do you have a kiddie seat for the toilet and a step to get up there?’

‘There’s something around here somewhere,’ Mel replied, glancing about the gloom. Tracy shuddered to think what might be lurking there. When had this place last had a hygiene check? Not in a while, that was for sure.

‘Well, if you could look it out that should help to avoid any more accidents,’ she said, ‘and if it turns out you need a new one I’m sure Alice will see that you’re reimbursed.’ She hadn’t actually met Alice, the local social worker, and wasn’t in much of a hurry to either, given how short she’d been on the phone. However, they were all overworked and underpaid, and the stress got to most in the end. ‘I’ll just pop back in and say cheerio to Chloe. Is someone sharing her room at present?’