happy, and more importantly, kept her quiet. Besides, it wasn’t exactly a chore – she had a good body, well, what teenager doesn’t? But I’m no paedo – I actually prefer older women, like Hannah. Chloe was just a bit of fun, a diversion while I waited for the real thing.
Finally, after a short honeymoon period, it looked to me like things were in danger of going pear-shaped for Hannah and Alex, and I was ready to dump Gemma, so I’d be free for when Hannah dumped Alex. But there was Chloe, and if I didn’t handle her right, she could blow everything wide open, so I sat her down and said I really cared about her but she was too young. I fed her some rubbish like one day we’d be together when she was older, thinking she’d swallow it. But I hadn’t reckoned on her being a right little bitch. ‘But Harry, I am older, I’m sixteen now,’ she’d said. I told her she was still too young and it had to end – and that’s when she really turned. The stupid little cow threatened to tell her mother about us, and her social worker – Hannah. She said she’d tell them how we had sex when she was fifteen, how I’d made her do it – which I didn’t and she’d tell them I’d given her drugs, which I’ll admit on occasion, I had. I had to hold on to my temper, and trust me it wasn’t easy with her being so bloody childish and unreasonable. Next thing I know she’s gone missing and Hannah’s looking everywhere for her, and I know I have to find her first.
So, I asked around the homeless in Worcester, some of them are former clients – and I eventually managed to track her down. She was so pleased to see me, nearly broke my heart the way she clung to me, like a little puppy she was. And she was so grateful when I gave her some stuff, I almost stopped myself, but then I thought of Hannah, and how much I had to lose. She choked a bit as I lay her down on this old coat by the river, I knew it was a matter of time, so told her she was a lovely girl, and I was sorry it had to end this way, but I was in love with Hannah. I explained that I couldn’t let her ruin everything by blabbing about us – I mean, what would Hannah think?
I thought my problems were over, and Chloe Thomson would become another statistic in the homeless-deaths-from-drugs chart, God rest her soul. But the next day, Hannah announces through her tears that Chloe is in hospital, in a coma but still alive. Still alive! I didn’t believe it, when I’d laid her down by the river she was virtually gone. So I phoned the hospital as one of her ‘concerned social workers’ and almost wept with relief when I was told her outlook wasn’t promising. Thank Christ! She’s been in a coma for three weeks now, and as long as she’s asleep, I’ll be fine. Also, the longer she remains in this catatonic state, the less chance there is of her coming round, and the more chance there is that at some point they’ll seek permission to turn the ventilator off. Then I’ll be home and dry, and the pretty nurse I’ve made friends with broke it to me sadly that it’s just a matter of time.
I had visited Chloe a couple of times, but was dragged away from her bedside when Hannah went to Devon with that madman. I went down the same day they did, so I could be there if anything went wrong, okay – when it went wrong. I knew that by Friday afternoon the dead bloke would have been found, everyone in the pub would be questioned, and an anonymous witness (me) would have sent in the car registration number of the murderer. So I casually mentioned to Jas I was staying with friends in Somerset for the weekend, and if she was worried about Hannah, to let me know as I wasn’t far away. Jas assumed Gemma was with me, which of course she wasn’t, I’d dumped her ages ago. So, alone I checked into a Travelodge in Somerset, ordered takeout, put on the TV and waited for the cry for help. I must admit, I hadn’t expected Alex to turn out to