Don't Let Me Go (42 page)

How Chloe would have loved the day out. She’d kept trying not to think of how Chloe might be spending the time, who she might be with, where she was, but it hadn’t been easy. It wasn’t easy now, either, mainly because it never was. The love, the fear, the longing were always there, tugging at her heart and her spirits as though to drag them away from any feelings of joy or hope. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to feel those things unless Chloe was there to share them.

‘OK, shall we go?’ she said, walking into the sitting room.

Anthony’s hand came up as he said into the phone, ‘Yeah, I got the call earlier, thanks. No, I haven’t seen the email yet, but . . . All right, I’ll take a look at it tomorrow. What about the other matter? That’s the one. OK, I’ll chase it on Monday. Have a good weekend. Sure, I will too.’ Ringing off, he was about to stuff the mobile in his pocket when it rang again.

‘Nothing that can’t wait,’ he decided, and letting the call go to voicemail, his sleepy eyes narrowed as he said, ‘Well, now you’re standing still long enough for me to see you, I can say that you look absolutely stunning.’

Thrilled, Charlotte gave him a twirl. ‘I thought I should make an effort for Tommy’s last night,’ she explained. ‘I don’t think we should let him pay the bill though, do you?’

‘Certainly not.’

‘He’s insisting, but with Maggie and Ron on our side, he’s not going to win. So, are we set?’

With an ironic raise of an eyebrow, he said, ‘I think so,’ and gesturing for her to go ahead of him, he remembered to unhook the keys as they passed before closing the front door behind them.

As they joined the strollers and commuters on the seafront and headed towards the old town, Charlotte couldn’t help feeling thankful for the sense of freedom stealing over her. The press was having to leave her alone since her case was
sub judice
, and if Anthony wasn’t concerned about them being seen together then there was no need for her to be either. In fact, she was probably feeling as close to light-hearted as she could manage, given the situation she was in.

The dark clouds that had come to crowd the horizon earlier seemed to have vanished completely now, leaving a pale blue sky tipping gently over the estuary and sun-sparkled pools of mud on the beach. Thankfully there was almost no wind to bedraggle her new hairstyle, and since it hadn’t rained for the past few days there was no dampness in the air either to flatten it. Given how warm it was, it could have been the perfect spring evening, were it not for Tommy’s imminent departure making her feel as though a vital link to Chloe was being lost.

She must try not to see it like that though, especially when he hadn’t really been able to tell her anything anyway, and besides tonight wasn’t about her and her problems. It was all about Tommy, and wishing him well with his return to the north. She suspected the team at Kesterly Social Services was going to miss him a great deal more than he would them, though he’d made some good friends during his time as team leader, so there were probably a few he’d be sorry to leave behind. Whether Wendy was amongst them only he could say, and Charlotte wasn’t going to ask, since the subject of Wendy was always one to be avoided.

Aware of the way Anthony was deliberately slowing his pace so she could keep up in her heels, she felt tempted to link his arm, or even take hold of his hand. She didn’t quite dare though, in case he looked at her in astonishment, or politely detached himself. He did occasionally take her arm when they were crossing a road, though, or, as had happened yesterday on their daily walk to the police station, when someone decided to share their opinion of her. Fortunately, yesterday’s accoster had had only friendly words to impart. Nevertheless, Anthony had kept a firm grip on her elbow until the tattooed youth with his Mohican and piercings had eventually moved on.

It was still completely incredible to her that they were spending just about every day together now, the afternoons anyway, and sometimes part of the evenings too. Without having made any particular plan in advance he simply turned up in time to walk her to the police station, and after she’d been cleared for another day they’d go to a café, or pick up some fish and chips or a sandwich for lunch. It seemed they had an endless amount of things to chat about besides her case, flitting from one subject to the next to the next with the kind of ease and humour that she’d never shared with anyone before.

‘No, no, there’s definitely nothing to it,’ she’d assured Gabby on the phone that morning, while wishing there was, ‘or not in the way you’re thinking. We just get along really well, and actually, most of our time is spent preparing for the trial.’

‘Yes, but when you’re not discussing that, does he ever talk about himself?’

‘Of course. He tells me about the various cases he’s handled, which I find totally fascinating, and hilarious sometimes.’ She’d rattled off a few examples, which Gabby had seemed to find entertaining too (as had her mother when she’d related them to her the night before). ‘Or he talks about how he always wanted to be a musician, or a carpenter, or a farmer,’ she continued, ‘anything but a lawyer, because it was what was expected of him. I didn’t tell him that my real father had been a carpenter, but it’s quite a coincidence that, isn’t it? Anyway, he says he’s become pretty jaded with the law, which is why he’s taken a sabbatical to find out if he really wants to carry on with it.’

‘And what about his personal life? Does he ever mention that?’

‘Not really. I mean, I know he has a house in Holland Park and that he belongs to a couple of clubs, mainly for sport. He plays a lot of tennis, and likes to fish and sail, and he’s quite into wine.’

‘And is he with someone?’

‘If he is he never mentions her, and he’s in Kesterly such a lot . . .’

‘Because he’s got a thing for you.’

‘Oh Gabby, don’t be ridiculous. He’s just spending time with me because neither of us is working at the moment, apart from trying to get me out of the mess I’m in.’

‘And he should care about that because?’

‘Because he’s like his sister. Kindness obviously runs in the family, and he’s definitely that.’

‘Plus good-looking, rich, I expect . . .’

‘I’ve no idea.’

‘Bound to be with a job like that. Anyway, what really matters to me is that you’ve got someone to keep you company while you’re going through all this, and who better than him when he can actually do something about it? You know, I was really dreading you having to spend too much time on your own, working yourself up into a state, but now it’s not happening I can sleep more easily at night.’

Charlotte had to admit she’d also been dreading having too much time on her hands, but apart from the mornings which Anthony spent catching up with emails, or sorting out other business, she was almost always with him. They’d even hired bicycles the day before to explore the extent of her court-imposed boundaries, and next Monday they were going to the first half of a concert at Breston Hall where one of his favourite bands was playing. They’d have to leave at the interval in order for her to avoid breaking her curfew, but when the time came she was going to insist he stayed so he wouldn’t have to miss out on the best songs because of her.

‘Mm, looks like we’re last,’ he commented as they approached the Hudson, Tommy’s favourite grill, and spotted Tommy and the others already at a circular window table.

Giving them a wave, Charlotte said, ‘I hope no one minds eating this early.’

‘Faced with a choice of you being here, or not, I imagine everyone’s happy to dine at six,’ he responded, pulling open the door for her to go in first.

Loving how he always managed to say the right thing, she cast a playful look over her shoulder and went to wrap her arms around Tommy, before doing the same with Maggie and Ron.

‘You look an absolute picture,’ Tommy declared, holding out a chair for her to sit next to him.

‘Doesn’t she?’ Maggie agreed.

‘I think I’m looking pretty good too,’ Anthony piped up.

With shining eyes, Charlotte said, ‘You were turning heads all the way here.’

Maggie’s expression was so comically arch that even Anthony had to laugh, and not for the first time Charlotte felt the pleasure of his humour stealing all the way through her.

‘Excellent, here we go,’ Ron declared, rubbing his hands as a waiter arrived with a bottle of wine and five glasses. ‘Shame your wife can’t be here to help us toast you on your way,’ he said to Tommy, ‘we would have liked to meet her.’

‘Oh, I’m sure you will one of these days,’ Tommy smiled. ‘We’ve got too many friends in these parts not to come back on visits.’

‘So what are you going to be doing when you’ve completed the move?’ Maggie asked, steadying her glass as the waiter filled it.

‘I’m weighing up a couple of options,’ he replied, ‘but I reckon I’m done with local government.’

‘They say it burns you out,’ Ron commented, ‘especially in your line.’

‘Anyone who gets him will be extremely lucky,’ Charlotte told them, ‘because he’s very definitely the best boss I’ve ever had.’

‘She’s only had one,’ Tommy murmured, making the others laugh.

‘To Tommy,’ Anthony announced when all the glasses were full, ‘may you have a great future in the north and plenty of visits down south.’

Wondering if some of them might be to a prison, Charlotte deliberately kept her smile sunny as they clinked glasses and sipped the delicious Shiraz Mourvèdre. ‘How was your send-off at the office today?’ she asked. ‘Did everyone get smashed?’

‘A few did,’ he admitted. ‘They were very generous with their gifts: a smart new leather holdall and a Newcastle United shirt.’

‘You’re a footballing man?’ Ron leapt in. ‘I’m an Arsenal man myself, and my sad case of a brother-in-law here shouts for Liverpool.’

‘That’s where my mother’s from, originally,’ Charlotte informed them.

‘Our parents too,’ Maggie said, ‘though they were living in London by the time I was born.’

‘Are they still around?’ Tommy asked.

‘Sadly no. They died quite young, so we were mainly brought up by our grandparents – at least Anthony was, I was already at college by the time Mum died.’

‘So how old were you when she went?’ Charlotte asked Anthony, concerned for the small boy whose world had been shattered by the loss of his mother.

‘Eight,’ he replied, ‘but I have some memories of her, which is good. Shame I can’t say the same about Dad, but I was only three when we lost him.’

‘Oh my gosh, you were so young.’

His expression was droll as he said, ‘I think I’ve managed to come through it. Anyway, tonight’s supposed to be about Tommy, not me, so . . .’

‘No, no, no,’ Tommy protested. ‘Let’s not talk about me. Oh, all right then, if you insist.’

Laughing as she was handed a menu, Charlotte was about to open it when she glanced up at the sound of some newcomers arriving. At first she only registered them as a young family with a toddler and a baby in a stroller, but then the little girl turned around and her heart caught on the suddenness of shock. It wasn’t that the child looked especially like Chloe, but her dark hair was similar, and she was definitely the same age, since she was holding a balloon that said
I am four.

Returning to the menu, she kept her head down as she tried to collect herself. It wasn’t as though this was the first time she’d seen a child that made her think of Chloe; it was happening all the time. Even little boys, or older children, or babies, made her long to hold Chloe again. She couldn’t pass a toyshop or a children’s clothing store, or a sweet counter without wanting to search out a special treat for her precious little girl. Nor could she walk along the street without feeling the urge to reach for her hand, or cross the road without mentally checking that she was safely with her.

Where was she now? Was someone taking good care of her?

By the time a waiter had taken their orders and the child and her parents and sibling had disappeared upstairs to the family room, Charlotte had her emotions back in control, and was able to return to the easy banter between Anthony and Ron as they selected the next wine. She was so lucky to have such loyal and supportive friends. She’d feel, if they weren’t there, that she had no one, with her mother being so far away, Gabby in Devon and Chloe all but lost to her.

But Chloe wasn’t lost, she
wasn’t
. She was simply being taken care of by someone else for a while, someone who loved her and was making her feel safe and special until it was possible for Charlotte to have her back again. She had to tell herself this or she’d go out of her mind with worry, and it could easily be true, so why keep fearing the worst?

‘You seem to have gone quiet on us,’ Anthony commented as the first course was served.

‘Me?’ she asked, feigning surprise. ‘I was just listening to you, as I always do, with rapt attention and awe, and wondering . . .’ she laughed and ducked as he made to throw a cork at her, ‘and wondering,’ she pressed on, ‘if Maggie and Ron have any children with them at the moment.’

To her surprise Maggie seemed a little discomfited as she picked up her wine and started to mumble an answer.

‘Actually, we’ve decided to take a break from it for a while,’ Ron informed her.

Charlotte blinked. ‘Really?’ she said. ‘Well, I guess it can be pretty taxing at times . . .’ She stopped as the penny suddenly dropped. ‘Is it . . . ? Does it have something to do with me?’ she asked, feeling a prickle of unease creeping over her.

Maggie’s eyes went to her brother, as though wondering how to reply.

As Anthony started to explain, Tommy said, ‘It was felt in the office that with Maggie and Ron being friends of yours it would be best not to place any kids with them until . . . well, everything’s resolved.’

A beat of horror struck in Charlotte’s chest. ‘Do they think I’m a danger to them, or something?’ she demanded.

‘I don’t think that’s the case,’ Tommy responded. ‘You know how these things work.’

‘But to deprive kids of the privilege of being with Maggie and Ron . . . What if I said I would never go there? Would that make a difference?’