by Jacqui Rose
‘Hello?’ Chloe-Jane called out.
The feeble, broken-sounding voice abruptly became louder, stronger; and Chloe could hear the injection of hope in the words. ‘Hello! I’m here!… Help!’
‘Hold on, I’m coming. I can’t see much. Keep talking, so I know I’m going the right way.’
‘Here … I’m here. Over here … Help … please, help.’
Chloe followed the voice, the sound of it guiding her along a partly flooded corridor. The water came up to almost the top of her shoe as it seeped into her pink and yellow dolly pumps and it was all Chloe-Jane could do to stop herself from screaming at the large rat scuttling past.
Suddenly Chloe-Jane could see exactly where the voice was coming from. Standing in front of a large black rusting door, she spoke in hushed tones.
‘Hello? Can you hear me?’
‘Yeah … Yeah. You need to get me out.’
Chloe leaned on the door, not wanting to shout but allowing whoever it was to hear exactly what she was saying. ‘How … How, the door’s locked.’
‘Look, you need to go and get help. If they come back, they’ll kill me.’
Chloe-Jane froze, before bursting into tears. Her whole body shook. ‘Uncle Alfie … Uncle Alfie, is that you?… It’s Chloe-Jane.’
40
Chloe-Jane ran along the corridor, back along the passageways, thinking about how she was going to get her Uncle Alfie out.
It was no good going to ask Jodie. She was part of it, Chloe-Jane was sure of it. The way she’d been angry with her when she’d asked if she’d heard her Uncle Alfie’s cries. The way she’d pretended to hear nothing when they’d walked along the passageways, the fact that Jodie had tried to stonewall her into thinking all was well, when all the time Uncle Alfie was locked up and held as prisoner.
But why? What had happened? What had he done? And why did Jodie cry? Was she afraid? Did she know what Mr Lee had in store for Alfie? Perhaps she was afraid the same thing would happen to her? There were so many questions but Chloe-Jane didn’t have anyone she could ask.
So now the problem was, what was the best thing to do? Calling the police was out of the question; she knew well enough that even if the police did believe her, which was of course doubtful, they would come and knock on the door asking questions before they even began to think of a search warrant. By the time they did decide to make a move, Mr Lee would’ve definitely got rid of all traces of her uncle.
No, what she needed to do was to get help but to make sure Jodie didn’t suspect anything – if she did she was bound to inform Mr Lee, and there was no way she could contemplate the consequences of that. The other thing Chloe-Jane was aware of was she didn’t know how much time she had, and that was the worst thought of all.
Getting to the metal door, Chloe-Jane checked Mr Lee wasn’t still about. Giving it a couple of moments before she opened the door, Chloe sneaked back up the stairs. There was no way she was going back to sleep but she had to be there when Jodie woke up, so as not to bring any suspicion.
Chloe-Jane wasn’t due in to work, so she could spend the day sorting out help – quite what that would be, she didn’t know, but whatever it took she would do it.
41
‘Lola!… Lola!’ – Chloe-Jane banged on the door frantically. She’d tried Lola’s mobile and the café but it had been shut so, assuming she’d be at her flat she’d run the whole way, only to find there was no answer.
‘She ain’t in love, gone to the hospital for her veins.’ Lola’s next-door neighbour came out into the corridor, dressed in a thick pink towelling dressing gown.
‘Do you know when she’ll be back?’
The woman shrugged. ‘Beats me love, all I know is she went out at about eight this morning … Who shall I tell her called?’
Chloe-Jane began to run back down the communal hallway towards the staircase, shouting as she went. ‘Tell her Chloe, and say … say I need to talk to her; urgently.’
At the bottom of the stairwell, Chloe got out her phone. If Lola wasn’t about, she needed to speak to Franny. Before she dialled, Chloe decided to withhold her number, that way there was more chance of Franny answering.
‘Hello?’
‘Franny, it’s Chloe, listen—’ The phone went dead. In despair, Chloe phoned again, and once more it was answered cordially. ‘Hello?’
‘It’s about Uncle Alfie, he’s …’ The call was cut off. Locked off by Franny.
Chloe-Jane began to run but as she did so she dialled the number again. This time it went to voicemail. Deciding it was better and safer not to say what had happened, Chloe-Jane left just a brief message. ‘Franny, please it’s urgent. You have to call me.’
With her phone now in her pocket, Chloe picked up her speed, running towards Soho. If Franny wouldn’t answer, then she would go and find her.
Arriving in Dean Street, Chloe felt her phone buzz. Quickly pulling it out, she answered.
‘Franny?… Listen, it’s about Uncle Alfie … Franny?’ The line was silent for a moment and then Chloe heard the chirpy voice of Jodie.
‘Who’s Franny? Is that the woman you were talking about? Is that your uncle’s girlfriend? What’s up with him?’
Chloe-Jane pulled the phone away from her ear in horror. She looked at her screen; she hadn’t known it was Jodie – her screen had been broken last week when she’d dropped it on the stairs of Lola’s flats. Shit.
Chloe-Jane’s heart began to race. Had she given the game away? Did Jodie suspect? She didn’t sound like she did but then, she would never have expected that Jodie was involved in something like this. She had to be careful; Jodie was sharp.
Taking a deep breath, Chloe began to talk, trying to keep her voice steady and nonchalant. ‘Oh hey Jodie, I didn’t know it was you. My screen’s not working properly. What’s up?’
‘Nothing, just wanted to see where you were.’
‘I … I’m … I’m just …’ She looked around. There was no way she was telling Jodie she was in Soho. ‘I’m in Kilburn High Street; just doing a bit of shopping. I thought it was about time.’
There was another pause, before Jodie spoke. ‘So what’s going on with your uncle?’
‘Oh nothing. It’s my cousin’s birthday and I was trying to get in touch with him so he can pull his finger out to get her a decent present, but no such luck. That’s typical, so I thought maybe Franny might be able to help. Oh well, it looks like it’ll be down to me to sort it …’ Chloe bit her lip, hoping she’d done enough not to raise any suspicion.
‘Cool, listen what time are you going to be about later, maybe we can grab something to eat?’
Chloe frowned. Jodie knew they weren’t supposed to be meeting till tonight but maybe she’d forgotten. ‘I’m not sure, how about I call you when I’m through shopping and stuff?’
‘Okay, well I’ll see you later.’
The phone clicked off and Chloe breathed a sigh of relief, hurrying off towards Franny’s flat, not noticing she was being watched by two people in a car. Jodie and Mr Lee.
‘Well?’ Mr Lee stared at Jodie.
‘I don’t think she knows anything.’
‘How can you be sure?’
Jodie continued to watch Chloe-Jane as she walked away into the distance. Her voice was quiet as she talked. ‘Because she would’ve told me. She thinks I’m her friend.’
The door of Franny’s flat was flung open, but standing in the doorway wasn’t the person Chloe-Jane was expecting or wanting to see. ‘Is Franny in? I need to speak to her.’
Franny’s housekeeper, Janet, stared with as much hostility as she could muster. ‘No.’
Never having got on with her during the short time she’d stayed at Franny’s, Chloe stuck a gum in her mouth along with her hands on her hips and a bold look on her face. ‘I ain’t got time for games. So is that a, No, she ain’t in or, No, I can’t speak to her?’
The housekeeper took her time to answer, but eventually she did, replying curtly. ‘Both.�
� And with that, the door was shut with a loud bang.
Chloe knocked again on the door, and almost immediately it was flung open. ‘Look, can you tell me when she’s going to get back? I really need to talk to her. Do you think she’ll be back this evening?’
The housekeeper, having no desire to continue opening and shutting the door, gave Chloe the information she was looking for. ‘She’s gone away. She’ll be back next week.’
Chloe turned and walked away. Next week. That would be too late. Tomorrow might even be, she didn’t know; but what was very clear to her was she’d never felt so alone in her life.
Standing in the middle of the street, Chloe-Jane began to panic. She had no idea what to do, where to go for help and all she could hear were her uncle’s cries for help in her head. She began to shake. It was hopeless.
Sitting down on the wall outside Starbucks in Wardour Street, Chloe started to cry. She held her head in her hands and through her fingers she saw her teardrops falling onto the pavement.
But after a moment an idea began to form in her head. It was crazy. Stupid. But what other choice did she have? And why not?… Why not? She had nothing to lose and everything to gain. So with a renewed hope, Chloe-Jane jumped up, hailing the nearest cab.
42
‘You’re not being serious? Is this some sort of a fucking wind-up?’ Vaughn Sadler stared at Chloe-Jane, who was sitting opposite him in the visiting room at Belmarsh.
‘I need your help.’
‘How did you even know I was here?’
‘Lola mentioned it, and because you’re on remand I didn’t need a pass.’
Vaughn shook his head. When the screws had told him he had a visitor he’d thought it was Franny again or perhaps even Lola, but Chloe-Jane? Not in a million years. The truth was when they’d told him her name he’d not had a clue who she was, but curiosity had gotten the better of him, so he’d agreed to the visit. It was only when he’d walked into the visitors’ room he’d recognised her and it was only the fact the wing was on lock down that he hadn’t turned right around and walked out.
Vaughn leaned in to Chloe. ‘What the hell do you want.’
‘It’s Uncle Alfie, he’s in trouble.’
That was it. They were all the words he’d needed to hear for him to get up and ask to go back to his cell; lock down or no lock down.
He glared at Chloe with contempt. ‘You really are taking the piss.’
‘No!… Please, please don’t go. Just listen … listen to me.’ Hysteria lifted Chloe’s voice into a loud cry, making the prison officers begin to walk over. Vaughn signalled, letting them know everything was alright which had the desired effect.
He sat down, whispering angrily. ‘Look around you, Chloe. What do you see, darlin’? I’m in a prison; a fucking prison! And you know why? You know why I’m in a prison looking at a stretch? Because of Alfie. I’m here because of him, and you …’ Vaughn had to stop to take a deep breath to calm himself down. ‘… You have the audacity to come and tell me he’s in trouble. Well so am I, Chloe. So am fucking I.’
Chloe wiped away tears with her sleeve. ‘I know, and I’m sorry, but I need your help. I ain’t got anyone else to ask.’
‘Have you ever wondered why that might be, Chloe?’
Chloe-Jane looked puzzled. ‘I dunno.’
Vaughn’s face was flushed red. ‘Well, let me tell you. Alfie Jennings is a fucking piss take. He’s lived his life always looking out for number one. Always willing to sell everyone else out, but you know you can only do that so long, until it all comes home to roost. And boy has it just. So if Alfie is in trouble, it’s a long time coming.’
Chloe was beside herself. ‘What can I do? What can I do to get you to help?’
‘Even if I did want to help, which I don’t, I’m in here. Ain’t nothing I can do from here.’
‘But you know people. You know people who can help. Maybe you can call them … or maybe I can.’
Vaughn laughed bitterly. ‘It ain’t a game what I do. It ain’t a game what the people I know do, so do you really think that you can come in here and start asking for telephone numbers like you’re phoning round about a Christmas party?’
Chloe put her hands over her face, and it was a minute before she was able to look at Vaughn. ‘He’s being held in this place near Paddington, some guy called Mr Lee, he …’
Vaughn sat up in his chair, interrupting Chloe. ‘Mr Lee? Are you sure?’
‘Yeah, why? Do you know who he is?’
‘I know who he is, but I ain’t ever met him.’
‘He’s a slimy bastard. He makes me skin crawl.’
Vaughn looked surprised. ‘How come you know him?’
Chloe couldn’t meet Vaughn’s eyes. She shrugged, looking around the visitors’ room.
‘Chloe?… How do you know him?… You do know he’s a dangerous man?’
Tears filled up in Chloe’s eyes. This isn’t what she’d wanted to do. Not at all. She hadn’t wanted to cry, she’d wanted to convince Vaughn to help her but here she was, blubbing away and behaving like a baby. She could hear her mum’s voice in her head, telling her as she always did – especially when it’d been to do with one of her mum’s boyfriends trying it on – not to cry. ‘What have you got to fucking cry about, Chloe-Jane? You’ve got a roof over yer head ain’t you? It’s me who should be crying; me old man would rather sleep with you than me? How do you think that makes me feel, Chloe, when I know you tart yourself up and encourage them? So don’t you dare start with them tears like a baby. Don’t you dare cry.’
‘Chloe … I’m talking to you.’ Vaughn broke into her thoughts.
‘I … I did some work for him.’
Vaughn looked around, then leaned in, fascinated by this revelation. ‘What do you mean you worked for him? You do know he’s part of the reason why Soho is being taken over?’
Chloe didn’t know any of this. All she knew was Jodie had introduced her to him, and all she cared about was sorting out Uncle Alfie. So Chloe-Jane answered as she always did when she wasn’t sure what she should say.
‘I dunno.’
‘Well I do, Chloe, and I’m telling you right now, that guy is dangerous.’
‘So will you help me then? Will you call some of your people?’
Vaughn thought about it for a moment. But only for a moment. What did it matter if Soho was taken over, he’d probably never see it again anyway. And as for Alfie, he could rot in hell.
Standing up, Vaughn looked at Chloe. ‘No, no, I’m sorry I can’t help you.’
Chloe flushed with anger. ‘You mean you won’t.’
‘Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.’ Vaughn turned to walk away, but stopped, and turned back; real concern showing in his eyes. ‘But Chloe, you need to stay away from that man. You hear me? Stay away from Mr Lee.’
Half an hour later, Vaughn sat in his cell, musing everything over. He refused to acknowledge the look of terror in Chloe’s eyes. The girl was trouble. He refused to acknowledge her trembling body language. She’d brought it on herself. He refused to acknowledge her heartfelt pleas. She was a game player. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It was no good. She was still just a kid.
Going into the secret compartment in his mattress, Vaughn Sadler pulled out his prohibited phone. He needed to make a call.
43
Chloe-Jane stood outside Franny’s flat. The lights were all off, and if she knew one thing about Franny’s housekeeper, she knew she would’ve clocked off early. Going to the bottom of her bag, Chloe pulled out a key. Although she’d given Franny the key back, she’d had a copy made. Old habits die hard.
When her mum had thrown her out and demanded her keys back, which she did often, Chloe had always made sure she had a spare set, allowing her to sneak back in to get dry clothes or even food. So when Franny had first given her the door key, without really giving it much thought, she’d had a set cut for herself.
Turning the lock, Chloe let herself in. Even though the housekeeper had told
her that Franny was away, her heart was still racing as she entered the dark hallway. Hearing no sounds, Chloe made her way up the stairs. At the top, she turned right, going down the corridor to the last white door at the end.
Taking a deep breath, Chloe pushed the door open and stepped into Franny’s room. Looking around, her eyes darting everywhere, Chloe-Jane ran over to the tall wardrobe, dragging the bedside chair closer to it. Standing on it, Chloe felt on top of the wardrobe, pulling down the holdall right at the back.
She opened it, rummaging in the bag, but to her utter despair what she was looking for wasn’t inside. She wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t going to cry. But where was it? She knew it had been there a couple of weeks ago. She had seen the gun with her own eyes. And now it was gone.
Another old habit. Each time Chloe-Jane had gone to a new foster carer, she’d checked out her environment, knowing and in a way needing to find out all there was to know about the new place and the new people she was staying with. It had made her feel safe; well safer at least.
Knowing whether there was a hidden stash of porn, a bag of drugs or just seeing photos of the family on their holidays helped Chloe understand more about her new home. It allowed her to judge whether she needed to be on high alert, whether she needed to put a chair in front of her door at night when she went to bed or whether she could simply relax and know everything was going to be alright. And however much she’d liked Franny, that was what Chloe-Jane had needed to do when she’d stayed with her, and that was how she’d seen the gun, tucked away on the top of the wardrobe. But now it was gone.
Jumping off the chair, Chloe began to search around. She looked under the bed, on the dresser and eventually started to pull open drawers, carefully at first, but as her desperation built, so did her recklessness. She searched through clothes and scarves, letters and keepsakes, throwing them out and onto the floor.