Tom was a social worker who always stayed in his office on Fridays to deal with the paperwork he had accumulated during the week. In the seventeen months they’d been dating he had often skived off early to meet Anna for a drink or to come to the house to cook her dinner, and she was pretty confident that she could rely on him to help her out even though it was such short notice.
‘No problem,’ he said after she explained the situation over the phone. ‘I’ll have to pop home first but I can probably be there in under an hour.’
His flat was just over a mile away in Nine Elms, so Anna could live with that. Tom was Mr Reliable, after all. She had never known him to let her down or disappoint her. It was one of the reasons she had fallen in love with him – he was the exact opposite of her ex-husband.
Matthew had been selfish, short-tempered, egotistical and controlling. Tom, on the other hand, was kind, calm and generous.
The pair were also miles apart physically. Tom was a six-foot hunky black man with tight curly hair and the most amazing come-to-bed eyes. At forty-seven he was four years older than she was.
Matthew had been five foot six and pale-skinned, with severely receding fair hair. If he hadn’t been murdered three years ago he would now be forty-four.
‘Are you sure Chloe won’t mind me babysitting?’ Tom asked. ‘I always get the impression she doesn’t like having me around.’
‘It’s your imagination, Tom. I’ve told you that. She’s just finding it hard to relate to anyone right now, including me.’
‘Well I hope you’re right. For both our sakes I need her to like me.’
‘I can assure you she does. We have to give her time to settle in to her new life. It’s all so overwhelming for her. And scary.’
‘I can appreciate that, Anna. And I have to say that I think she’s coping really well, considering she’s only twelve. She’s a remarkable girl … You must be so proud of her.’
‘I am. I only wish I could wave a magic wand and take away all the pain that’s still eating her up inside.’
‘You will,’ Tom said. ‘It’s early days, and it’s clear you’re doing a good job. It’s such a shame your compassionate leave is being cut short.’
Anna sighed. ‘I know, but it can’t be helped. It’s really kicking off out there, and no way can I just sit back and watch it on the telly.’
She told him then what Nash had said about the homes of some police officers coming under attack.
‘Well don’t you worry about Chloe,’ he said. ‘If anyone comes to your house to cause trouble I’ll make sure they regret it.’
Anna was comforted by his words, and as she started to get herself ready, she reflected once again on how lucky she was to have him in her life. But an unwelcome thought had crept into her mind: Would he stick around?
Even before Chloe came back into her life, Tom had begun to feel insecure. He had wanted to move in with her, but she had resisted, telling him, truthfully, that she wasn’t ready. She was content with the arrangement they had because it gave her a degree of independence. It meant she’d been able to spend much of her spare time searching for clues to Chloe’s whereabouts, mainly through social media appeals, the FindChloe Facebook page she’d set up, and interviews with newspapers and magazines.
She took the view that cohabiting would not only have made things more difficult, but that it wouldn’t have been fair on Tom either.
However, in recent months she had begun to fear that unless she agreed to move their relationship forward, there was a chance Tom would get fed up waiting and end it. In fact she had almost reached the point where she was going to invite him to move in.
But as soon as she got Chloe back she knew she couldn’t do it. At least not yet.
Her daughter took priority over everything else. Including the love of her life.
*
It didn’t take Anna long to get ready. She kept the make-up to a minimum and changed into a black polo sweater and navy trousers. She dragged her long dark hair back into a ponytail and put on her three-quarter-length overcoat. October had arrived with a vengeance and she wanted to be prepared for what was almost certainly going to be a long, cold night.
She went back into the living room to pick up her shoulder bag, and caught the tail-end of an interview with Gary Trimble, London’s Police Commissioner, who was appealing for calm.
‘The death of Grace Fuller was an unfortunate accident,’ he was saying. ‘It in no way justifies this mindless criminality. I would urge those responsible to think what they’re doing to this great city and to community relations.’
Anna was in no doubt that his words would fall on deaf ears. The blue touch-paper had been lit and the riots were not going to end any time soon.
She knew she had to try to view them as a distraction and to focus on the boy who had died in the pub cellar, but it wasn’t going to be easy – that much was obvious.
She was on her way out the front door, having told Chloe that Tom was on his way over, when her phone rang. She smiled when she noted the caller ID: it was DI Max Walker, her most trusted wingman, who was already at the crime scene.
‘Hello, guv,’ he said. ‘The boss told me he’d called you in. I’m sorry you’re having to cut short your leave.’
‘Can’t be helped. I’m just leaving the house. Should be there within fifteen minutes, traffic and rioters permitting.’
‘OK. I’m just ringing to let you know that we’re pretty sure who the boy is.’
‘That was quick.’
‘Well it wasn’t difficult because I recognised him from the photographs that were plastered all over the papers on Tuesday morning. I reckon he’d still be front-page news if it wasn’t for the riots.’
Anna felt a pang of dread. ‘You’re not talking about Jacob Rossi? Son of Mark Rossi?’
‘I am.’
‘Oh shit. I was hoping that story would have a happy bloody ending.’