Nothing. By 6.15 p.m. in a last-ditch attempt to find her, I start calling the hospitals.
My first call is to Worcester Royal Infirmary, the biggest hospital in the area, and I’m put through to various wards to confirm if a Chloe Thomson is there. Eventually, I speak to someone who can give me some information. It seems Chloe was brought into the A & E Department at two-thirty this afternoon as a suspected overdose. She was found in a squat just outside the city centre. Her mother has been informed and is now with her. Chloe’s alive, but she’s in a coma.
I dash over there immediately, but I’m not allowed to see her because she’s in ICU. I talk to one of the nurses who tells me that she was found this afternoon by a fellow squatter, who thought she was dead. Judging by her condition, doctors seem to think she OD’d last night. At this stage no one can tell me anything more, or provide any kind of prognosis, and after a while I decide to leave, and come back tomorrow.
I return to the office and google her condition, I can’t find anything that helps, except that the longer a patient remains in a coma the poorer his or her chance of recovery and the greater the chance that he or she will enter a vegetative state. This is heart-breaking, and all I can do is hope. And with this in mind, I optimistically try to plan for a good outcome and request a mental-health social worker for if and when she comes round.
‘I’m behind you on this,’ Jas says, ‘and as her care-co-ordinator it’s up to you to put everything in place for her. But, babe, you must know it’s not looking good.’
‘I know, but I have to have hope. I feel like I dropped the ball, Jas,’ I say, honestly.
She puts her arms around me and gives me a much-needed hug. ‘Babe, we are sometimes on the fringes – they won’t or can’t let us in – and you did everything, everything you could for Chloe. You involved the other agencies, you put safeguarding in place – but sometimes things happen outside our control. You’ve been doing this job long enough to know that. So please don’t beat yourself up.’
‘I don’t want her waking up to no one. I’ve told the nurses to call me if there’s any sign of her coming round, and I’m going back first thing tomorrow. I just feel like I failed her, Jas.’
‘You didn’t, you were brilliant with her, and things were going well. She’d come on leaps and bounds with you guiding her, but we can’t be there all the time. All you can do is be there for her going forward.’
Ever since I spoke to the hospital and had it confirmed Chloe was there, I’ve felt responsible. I can’t help but feel if I’d been more present, more focused, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.
I suggest to Jas that we take a rain check on our night out, I’m really not in the mood, but classic Jas, she says it’s even more reason to go out.
‘You need some downtime and a few drinks. I know that might sound heartless given Chloe’s situation, but this is our job – it isn’t our life. And if we stayed home feeling guilty every time something like this happens, we’d never go out.’
She’s right, but I feel it’s wrong somehow to be out enjoying myself when Chloe’s in this state.
Harry made me feel a bit better. ‘Chloe’s been here before,’ he said, ‘and bless her she’ll probably be there again. And like all the Chloes before and after, we can only do so much for them. She’s a tough cookie, if anyone can pull through, she can.’
I hope he’s right.
‘So, have you thought seriously about your plan to go and gatecrash his romantic evening?’ Jas says as we walk to the car park later. I can’t help but be stung by the cruelty in Jas’s words. She seems to be enjoying the idea of Alex having a night with Helen while I’m away, and I choose to ignore her comment. I think she’s being a little caustic because she’s not too chuffed that I’m driving and not drinking, but I won’t be swayed by her. I want to be in control, I’m shaken by what’s happened to Chloe and the last thing I want to do is drink. I also want to drive over to