‘Please don’t leave me here,’ Chloe screamed, as her mind raged in all directions.
Wesley turned back towards her, his face screwed up as though in pain.
‘I got you out of there, but it don’t mean you’re now my responsibility,’ he yelled.
But Chloe was desperate. She reached out, grabbed the sleeve of his jumper.
‘Take me with you. Please. I don’t know what to do.’
Wesley stared at her for a few seconds, and then looked up at the burning building in which his friend Ryan lay dead. Tears flowed from his eyes and ran down his cheeks. In any other circumstance, Chloe would feel sorry for him, but right now she was preoccupied with getting somewhere safe.
They hadn’t moved from this spot since escaping the fire. They had watched the flames spread from the gift shop to the shops either side of it. Wesley had cried like a baby while calling out Ryan’s name. And Chloe had struggled to stay on her feet as her head spun and a wave of nausea washed over her.
The fire brigade still hadn’t turned up, but the street they were on behind the shops was beginning to fill up with rioters. Some were already pushing over wheelie bins and throwing things at the row of offices that ran parallel with the rear of the shops.
‘I’m going to my flat,’ Wesley said, turning back to her. ‘The one I shared with Ryan. You don’t want to come with me. You should go and get help.’
Chloe moved so that she was standing directly in front of him. He was several feet taller than she was.
‘Please take me with you,’ she begged him. ‘I’ll be safe there. I can try to contact my mum. She’ll come and get me.’
He looked down at her, the flames from the fire reflected in his eyes, and she could see his mind working.
She knew she was taking a risk. After all, she didn’t know him and he had not been happy that his friend had rescued her from the street. Plus, how would he react if and when he found out who her mum was? It was a risk she had to take, though. After all, it was thanks to him that she was alive. He could have left her to die in the shop, but he hadn’t. For that reason she felt she could trust him.
He flicked his head in the direction he’d been about to walk off in.
‘I live in the block you can see over there,’ he said. ‘It’ll take us about ten minutes to get there so stay the fuck close to me.’
Chloe saw the block of flats towering above all the other buildings. Most of the lights were on and the sight of it filled her with hope.
She held on to Wesley’s sleeve as he started walking and she had to almost run to keep up with him. Her breath was thumping in her ears and it seemed like every bone in her body was hurting. At the same time her eyes stung and watered, and her stomach lurched with dread.
But she kept going because she felt safer than she had since those men had taken Tom away. She was no longer alone. At last someone had taken her under his wing.
And she didn’t even care that he was one of them. A rioter. A man whose hatred for the police had caused him to behave so badly. And so violently.
Up close the block was huge and imposing. It stood at the end of a street that was strewn with debris, including bottles, bricks and household rubbish.
There were groups of youths hanging around, but they weren’t rioting. They were talking, smoking, looking at their mobile phones. Perhaps waiting to be told where to go next to cause trouble.
Some of them watched as Wesley strode towards the flats with Chloe clinging to his sleeve. But if he noticed them he didn’t bother to show it. He just stared ahead, his face set in stone.
They entered the block, which was grim and dark. Graffiti covered the walls and the air was thick with the stench of urine.
Neither of them spoke as they went up in the lift, but Chloe continued to grasp Wesley’s sleeve. She wasn’t sure he even noticed she was still holding on to him. It was as though he was lost within himself while struggling to deal with what had happened to his friend.
Chloe was trying not to be sick, but her stomach felt like it was being repeatedly hit with a hammer. She closed her eyes and a picture of her mum flashed in her mind. She desperately wanted to get in contact with her, and not only for her own sake. She wanted to know that she was safe and hadn’t fallen victim to the violence like so many other people including Tom. She was, after all, a target for men like Wesley. He and Ryan had made it clear that they hated the police. It was why they were running riot and trying to destroy everything in their path.
Chloe had started to fear that her mother might already be dead. It was an unbearable thought and she kept telling herself that God wouldn’t let her suffer such a terrible loss all over again. She wanted to believe that the worst had already happened to her, and that she would soon be out of danger and reunited with her mum. But for that to happen she needed Wesley’s help.
When the lift door opened Wesley stepped out and Chloe walked with him along the landing to his flat. He unlocked his front door with a key and left her to close it behind them.
He went straight through to a small, untidy kitchen where he poured himself a glass of tap water before lighting a cigarette.
Chloe stood in the doorway and tried to think of something to say to him, but her throat felt so tight that she couldn’t get the words out.
Wesley then brushed past her and she followed him through the living room and out onto a balcony. They were six floors up and the view across London made her heart jump. There were fires everywhere – some big, some small – and it looked as though dozens of bombs had dropped onto the capital.
‘That’s where we just came from,’ Wesley said, pointing. ‘I can’t get my head around the fact that I’ll never see Ryan again.’
They could see that the fire had spread further, claiming more shops and reaching higher into the sky.
Chloe coughed to clear her throat and said, ‘Was he your best friend?’
He dragged on his cigarette before replying. ‘We’ve been mates since primary school,’ he said. ‘A year ago we moved in here. He was like a bruv to me and he shouldn’t be dead. And to think it was one of our own who lobbed the bottle.’
‘Did Ryan have a family?’ Chloe asked.
He gave a short, sharp nod. ‘Parents and a younger sister he thought the world of. They live in Catford. I need to tell them, but I’m not sure I can.’
He stared out over London as he wrestled with his emotions. Chloe wondered if he was regretting taking part in the riots. Ryan would still be alive if the pair of them had stayed out of trouble. It was something that was bound to stay with him for the rest of his life.
For several minutes he didn’t speak and neither did she. Eventually, he turned to her and said, ‘So what’s your name?’
‘It used to be Alice Miller,’ she replied. ‘But now it’s Chloe. Chloe Tate.’
He looked puzzled, but didn’t bother to ask for an explanation. ‘How old are you?’
‘Twelve. Nearly thirteen.’
‘And where do you live?’
‘Somewhere near here. But I don’t know the address.’
‘Have you got a phone?’
‘I left it at home.’
‘So how are we supposed to contact your parents?’
‘It’s just my mum. My dad’s dead.’
‘OK then, so where is your mum now?’
‘She went to work. Her boyfriend came to pick me up to take me to his flat. But he was attacked by a group of men who carried him off. I couldn’t get back into my house so I started to run because I couldn’t think what else to do.’
He was frowning now and shaking his head. ‘Bloody hell,’ he said. ‘You’ve had a rough time of it.’
Chloe felt tears spike in her eyes. ‘Please help me find my mum,’ she said, her voice thick with emotion. ‘Please.’
‘I’m going to,’ he said. ‘It’s why I let you come up here. Give me her phone number.’
‘I don’t know it.’
‘Then where does she work?’
‘A place called Wandsworth.’
‘Oh, come on, kid. I need more than that. Where in Wandsworth does she work?’
Chloe hesitated a moment before blurting it out. ‘She works at the police station.’
Wesley’s expression changed in an instant and she didn’t like what she saw.
‘Are you telling me your mum is a fucking copper?’
Chloe nodded, and felt a cold panic tighten in her throat.
‘I don’t fucking believe it,’ he seethed. ‘My best mate is dead because he took pity on a copper’s daughter.’
‘It wasn’t my fault he died,’ Chloe sobbed. ‘I didn’t start the fire.’
He leaned towards her, his face inches from hers. ‘But it was because of you that we went into that shop. If we hadn’t, he would still be alive.’
She chose not to respond this time and took a step back from him. She thought he was going to carry on yelling at her, so it came as a relief when he suddenly straightened up and stormed back into the flat, muttering angrily to himself.
Chloe remained on the balcony because she was too afraid to follow him inside. Her skin was clammy with dread and she no longer believed that Wesley was going to help her.
She now feared that he might decide to hurt her instead.