jeans, but no coat – she must be freezing. I’m relieved to be tucked inside the coffee shop, where people are drinking and eating and doing normal things. Even if Helen saw me through the window and came inside, surely she wouldn’t do anything, there are too many people in here. I’ll keep my eye on the door, but will now put what just happened to the back of my mind. This is Chloe’s time, and too many people have already let her down, I need to be present for her. So I lock everything else up in that box in my head, brace myself and walk to her table.
Chloe looks up as I sit down. She doesn’t smile and I’m immediately struck by how much thinner she looks since I saw her a few days ago. Her skin is paper-white, there are shadows around her eyes, and her lips are cracked and dry.
‘Have you ordered food, love? You look like you could do with some.’
She nods listlessly. Hard, dark eyeliner circles her eyes, a grotesque parody of a teenager who, just a few months ago, was beginning to blossom. All she needed was a little support and encouragement, to know someone cared what happened to her. No one understood that more than me, and I loved watching her develop, despite her family and my unease about her mother’s boyfriend. I even convinced her to work towards school exams, think about an apprenticeship, but who knows where she’s headed now. I just know if I don’t do something, she’ll be lost, like her mum before her.
‘What’s going on, Chloe?’ I say, looking into her face, trying to comprehend why at just sixteen she’s given up on life. ‘You said you wanted to tell me something, said you were scared. I want you to know you can trust me.’
She nods.
‘So tell me, I want to help.’
‘Mum threw me out cos of Pete… he’s…’ She trails off, her head bowed, not looking at me.
‘What’s happened?’
‘He left, and Mum says it’s my fault – I’m causing trouble. She said to bugger off and don’t come back.’
She’s little more than a child, how any mother could abandon their daughter like that I can’t begin to understand.
‘Oh, Chloe, I’m so sorry. Anything that happens between your mum and her boyfriend is not your fault, whatever she says. You know that don’t you?’
A waitress arrives with a Coke for Chloe and I order a coffee.
‘You need a brownie to go with that,’ I say, knowing they’re her favourite.
She shrugs, but I order her one and, in moments, the waitress returns with it on a plate.
Chloe starts to eat, breaking up the brownie into little morsels, tiny mouthfuls, that she forces down while we talk.
‘So did something happen, with you and Pete?’ I have a feeling she’s not telling me everything. Last night when she left the message she said she was scared.
She looks at me, all wide-eyed. ‘The bastard hit my mum, so I went for him and then it all went to shit. He buggered off, told Mum he wasn’t coming back. I was glad, but then Mum turned on me, said I started it. But, Hannah, I didn’t, he was hurting her.’ She drops the half-eaten brownie onto the plate like it’s inedible.
‘So that’s when she threw you out?’
‘Yeah.’ She’s looking down, I can’t see her face.
‘Where did you sleep last night?’ My coffee arrives, and I thank the waitress.
‘I slept down by the river.’
‘Oh, Chloe, I’m so sorry. You called me late, and I didn’t get your message until—’
‘It’s not your fault, Hannah. It’s mine.’
‘No, it isn’t, please don’t ever think that. We can’t have you sleeping rough, love. I’ll sort it – make sure you’re safe.’
She looks at me warily.
‘You told me you were scared, in the message you left on my phone. Were you scared of your situation – or was it someone…? Were you scared of someone?’
For a moment I think she’s going to tell me something. But she just stares ahead.
I try again. ‘I know you don’t think you can trust anyone at the moment – but you can trust me, I promise.’
‘I can’t.’ She sighs, defeated, as if she’s given up on everyone, including herself.
My heart breaks, I feel I’ve let her down. I think about Jas’s advice about trying to be more detached – but I don’t know if I can be.
‘You can trust me,’ I encourage, ‘but I have to know what’s happening so I can