It had got to the point where all Chloe could do was put one foot in front of the other. It felt like she had no control over anything else. The fear had numbed her senses and her throat was raw from crying.
She walked as fast as she could, hands in the pockets of her puffer jacket. She focused on avoiding bumping into people and tripping over the debris that was scattered all over the place.
Her lungs were aching and her eyes were stinging because of all the smoke in the air. The pain in her head was still there and had spread to her neck and shoulders.
Around her the orgy of violence and destruction continued, yet there was no sign of any police. She could still see and hear the helicopter that had tried to rescue her, though. It was circling above the buildings ahead of her, well out of reach of the rioters and any objects they might throw at it.
The city was even more frightening now because it was dark. The fires were brighter and more dramatic. Shops, cars and piles of rubbish were ablaze. Those people who weren’t causing damage were marching along with banners and chanting slogans that Chloe didn’t really understand.
Time to take control
All coppers are cunts
Enough is enough
No justice, no peace, fuck the police
It shocked Chloe that some of the rioters didn’t look much older than she was. She saw a boy who appeared to be in his early teens throw a flaming bottle onto an abandoned double decker bus. Another was walking across the road between two adults and in his arms was a laptop computer that Chloe guessed had been stolen from a store.
She was on a main shopping street, but even the smaller roads branching off from it were not free from trouble: down one a mass brawl was taking place between two groups of youths, and on another she spotted three men in balaclavas smashing their way into someone’s house while four other men stood on the pavement watching them.
It was all so scary and upsetting. She felt vulnerable, helpless, and totally defenceless. Everywhere she looked something bad was happening, and her young mind did not know how to process it. She wasn’t old enough or wise enough to get herself out of trouble and she knew it. She needed help, guidance, a grown-up to tell her what to do and where to go.
She was also discovering how much more complicated life was without her mobile phone. Her mum’s number was on it along with their address. But she hadn’t bothered to memorise either of them.
The panic was building up inside her again; she was beginning to think that the rioters had taken over the whole of London and that nowhere was safe. She couldn’t carry on walking all through the night. She was already exhausted and unsure how long she could keep going without a rest. And it was probably only a matter of time before she was attacked again or had another accident.
She passed a man who was begging a group of youths not to enter his shop. But he was pushed aside and they stormed in through the door. Seconds later she had to jump clear of a car that mounted the pavement and smashed into the front of a bank, setting off the alarm.
She quickened her pace, her eyes scanning the street in front of her, and every breath she took made her chest hurt.
She was on her own, and this horrible truth reminded her of something her father told her just before they left Spain and came to England.
‘I will always be there to protect you, Alice,’ he said. ‘Just you remember that. It won’t matter how old you are or where in the world you find yourself. I will never let you down.’
But he had. Big time. She was utterly confused about how she should feel about him now. She remembered how fiercely he had loved her. How he had given her so many cherished memories of their time together in Spain. She had loved and worshipped him in return. But now she found it impossible not to resent him for telling her so many lies. If it wasn’t for what he’d done she would never have ended up in this perilous situation. And her beloved Sophie would still be alive.