Chloe checked the time on her phone and saw that it was three-thirty in the afternoon. It surprised her because she hadn’t realised that she’d been at the hospital for over seven hours.
The time had passed so quickly and even now she was in no hurry to go home. She had enjoyed being with Tom. They’d talked and played games and when he’d slept – which had been for much of the time – she had wandered around the hospital. She’d bought drinks and snack bars in the canteen and watched television in the visitors’ room.
Tom had just dropped off again after they’d had a long chat about her mother.
‘I want you to know that I love her very much, Chloe,’ he’d said. ‘My feelings for her haven’t changed as a result of you coming back into her life. If anything, they’re stronger now because she’s much happier and more optimistic about the future. And so am I.’
Chloe had hung on to his every word, and she knew he meant it when he’d said that he wanted them to be a family.
‘Your mum and I were planning to move in together soon,’ he’d told her. ‘But it’s only right and sensible that it gets put on hold so that she can spend time with you first. You both have a lot of catching up to do, and you must believe me when I say that I really don’t have a problem with that.’
She did believe him because she was sure now that he was an honest man. Unlike her father who had told her so many lies. And she was glad that she had agreed to stay with him in the hospital because it had allowed her to get to know him.
He had a broken body because he’d tried to help her, and it was such a relief that he wasn’t more seriously injured or even dead. She wanted to be nice to him, to show him that she was so very grateful. It was important to her, partly because she wasn’t able to thank Sophie and Ryan for saving her life. She wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for them. It made her feel sad, and guilty, and she swore to herself that from now on she would include them in her prayers.
A nurse came up to the bed to check on Tom. She was the one with the nice smile and the uniform that was too tight for her.
Chloe had been watching her talking to the other patients on the ward. Every bed was occupied, so it took her a long time to get from one end to the other.
‘You look very tired, Chloe,’ she said. ‘Would you like me to get you a cup of tea?’
‘No thank you. I was about to go for a walk.’
‘Well just be sure to take care of yourself. We don’t want to see you ending up as one of the patients.’
But all the doctors and nurses were treating her like she was a patient, and she suspected that it wasn’t just because they felt sorry for her. They knew who she was and what she’d been through. The doctor treating Tom had said that he had followed her story from the day she was abducted by her dad ten years ago, because he had a daughter of his own who was the same age as Chloe.
‘My wife was actually moved to tears when you were reunited with your real mother last month,’ he’d told her. ‘She even opened a bottle of bubbly so that we could celebrate.’
It was a strange feeling to be recognised and talked about by people she didn’t know. People who seemed to regard her as some kind of celebrity. She realised now that one of the reasons her mum had kept her indoors during the past four weeks was to shield her from all the attention. And she was glad that she had because the curious stares and the questions made her feel uncomfortable.
She got up from the chair and looked at Tom. He was snoring and she reckoned he would be out cold for a while. Time then for a wee and a walk.
She couldn’t believe how busy the hospital was. There were so many people and so much noise. It was a wonder that any of the patients could get any sleep.
The canteen was packed so she didn’t hang around in there. Instead, she got a Coke and a chocolate bar from a vending machine and went up to the visitors’ room next to Tom’s ward. There were five people in there watching the news on the television. Chloe joined them, and within minutes of seeing what was going on across London her stomach was cramping with nerves.
The rioting had got much worse apparently because two police officers had been filmed beating a young woman with batons. It had further inflamed the situation and caused many more outbreaks of violence.
‘Police stations have come under attack in Brixton, Stoke Newington, Fulham and Peckham,’ the newsreader said. ‘Rioters are also targeting magistrate courts as well as high street stores and shopping malls. In the last hour the official death toll has risen to nine, and the number of arrests in London alone to over four hundred.’
The newsreader then read out the names of several of those who had died. Photographs were also shown of some of them, including the boy who had lost his life while chained up in a cellar. Another was a middle-aged shopkeeper who was stabbed in the heart as he fought against youths who stormed into his convenience store.
Chloe felt a flash of heat in her chest as a familiar face filled the screen.
‘Ryan Claymore was killed on Friday night,’ the newsreader said. ‘He was trapped in a gift shop in Vauxhall that was set on fire by rioters. It’s believed that two people who were with him managed to escape the blaze. His mother today described him as the perfect son and said he died while in the act of saving the life of a young girl he didn’t know.’
Chloe let out a strangled sob as a great torrent of sadness welled up inside her. A flood of hot tears followed, blurring everything around her.
Suddenly she was no longer in the visitors’ room. She was back in the gift shop watching Ryan screaming as he was consumed by the flames. Her own blood felt like it was on fire, and although she could hear people talking to her, she had no idea what they were saying.