Disobey (24 page)

‘Okay, well I’ll see you later.’

The phone clicked off and Chloe breathed a sigh of relief, hurrying off towards Franny’s flat, not noticing she was being watched by two people in a car. Jodie and Mr Lee.

‘Well?’ Mr Lee stared at Jodie.

‘I don’t think she knows anything.’

‘How can you be sure?’

Jodie continued to watch Chloe-Jane as she walked away into the distance. Her voice was quiet as she talked. ‘Because she would’ve told me. She thinks I’m her friend.’

The door of Franny’s flat was flung open, but standing in the doorway wasn’t the person Chloe-Jane was expecting or wanting to see. ‘Is Franny in? I need to speak to her.’

Franny’s housekeeper, Janet, stared with as much hostility as she could muster. ‘No.’

Never having got on with her during the short time she’d stayed at Franny’s, Chloe stuck a gum in her mouth along with her hands on her hips and a bold look on her face. ‘I ain’t got time for games. So is that a,
No, she ain’t in
or,
No, I can’t speak to her
?’

The housekeeper took her time to answer, but eventually she did, replying curtly. ‘Both.’ And with that, the door was shut with a loud bang.

Chloe knocked again on the door, and almost immediately it was flung open. ‘Look, can you tell me when she’s going to get back? I really need to talk to her. Do you think she’ll be back this evening?’

The housekeeper, having no desire to continue opening and shutting the door, gave Chloe the information she was looking for. ‘She’s gone away. She’ll be back next week.’

Chloe turned and walked away. Next week. That would be too late. Tomorrow might even be, she didn’t know; but what was very clear to her was she’d never felt so alone in her life.

Standing in the middle of the street, Chloe-Jane began to panic. She had no idea what to do, where to go for help and all she could hear were her uncle’s cries for help in her head. She began to shake. It was hopeless.

Sitting down on the wall outside Starbucks in Wardour Street, Chloe started to cry. She held her head in her hands and through her fingers she saw her teardrops falling onto the pavement.

But after a moment an idea began to form in her head. It was crazy. Stupid. But what other choice did she have? And why not?… Why not? She had nothing to lose and everything to gain. So with a renewed hope, Chloe-Jane jumped up, hailing the nearest cab.

42

‘You’re not being serious? Is this some sort of a fucking wind-up?’ Vaughn Sadler stared at Chloe-Jane, who was sitting opposite him in the visiting room at Belmarsh.

‘I need your help.’

‘How did you even know I was here?’

‘Lola mentioned it, and because you’re on remand I didn’t need a pass.’

Vaughn shook his head. When the screws had told him he had a visitor he’d thought it was Franny again or perhaps even Lola, but Chloe-Jane? Not in a million years. The truth was when they’d told him her name he’d not had a clue who she was, but curiosity had gotten the better of him, so he’d agreed to the visit. It was only when he’d walked into the visitors’ room he’d recognised her and it was only the fact the wing was on lock down that he hadn’t turned right around and walked out.

Vaughn leaned in to Chloe. ‘What the hell do you want.’

‘It’s Uncle Alfie, he’s in trouble.’

That was it. They were all the words he’d needed to hear for him to get up and ask to go back to his cell; lock down or no lock down.

He glared at Chloe with contempt. ‘You really are taking the piss.’

‘No!… Please, please don’t go. Just listen … listen to me.’ Hysteria lifted Chloe’s voice into a loud cry, making the prison officers begin to walk over. Vaughn signalled, letting them know everything was alright which had the desired effect.

He sat down, whispering angrily. ‘Look around you, Chloe. What do you see, darlin’? I’m in a prison; a fucking prison! And you know why? You know why I’m in a prison looking at a stretch? Because of Alfie. I’m here because of him, and you …’ Vaughn had to stop to take a deep breath to calm himself down. ‘… You have the audacity to come and tell me he’s in trouble. Well so am I, Chloe. So am fucking I.’

Chloe wiped away tears with her sleeve. ‘I know, and I’m sorry, but I need your help. I ain’t got anyone else to ask.’

‘Have you ever wondered why that might be, Chloe?’

Chloe-Jane looked puzzled. ‘I dunno.’

Vaughn’s face was flushed red. ‘Well, let me tell you. Alfie Jennings is a fucking piss take. He’s lived his life always looking out for number one. Always willing to sell everyone else out, but you know you can only do that so long, until it all comes home to roost. And boy has it just. So if Alfie is in trouble, it’s a long time coming.’

Chloe was beside herself. ‘What can I do? What can I do to get you to help?’

‘Even if I did want to help, which I don’t, I’m in here. Ain’t nothing I can do from here.’

‘But you know people. You know people who can help. Maybe you can call them … or maybe I can.’

Vaughn laughed bitterly. ‘It ain’t a game what I do. It ain’t a game what the people I know do, so do you really think that you can come in here and start asking for telephone numbers like you’re phoning round about a Christmas party?’

Chloe put her hands over her face, and it was a minute before she was able to look at Vaughn. ‘He’s being held in this place near Paddington, some guy called Mr Lee, he …’

Vaughn sat up in his chair, interrupting Chloe. ‘Mr Lee? Are you sure?’

‘Yeah, why? Do you know who he is?’

‘I know who he is, but I ain’t ever met him.’

‘He’s a slimy bastard. He makes me skin crawl.’

Vaughn looked surprised. ‘How come you know him?’

Chloe couldn’t meet Vaughn’s eyes. She shrugged, looking around the visitors’ room.

‘Chloe?…
How
do you know him?… You do know he’s a dangerous man?’

Tears filled up in Chloe’s eyes. This isn’t what she’d wanted to do. Not at all. She hadn’t wanted to cry, she’d wanted to convince Vaughn to help her but here she was, blubbing away and behaving like a baby. She could hear her mum’s voice in her head, telling her as she always did – especially when it’d been to do with one of her mum’s boyfriends trying it on – not to cry.
‘What have you got to fucking cry about, Chloe-Jane? You’ve got a roof over yer head ain’t you? It’s me who should be crying; me old man would rather sleep with you than me? How do you think that makes me feel, Chloe, when I know you tart yourself up and encourage them? So don’t you dare start with them tears like a baby. Don’t you dare cry.’

‘Chloe … I’m talking to you.’ Vaughn broke into her thoughts.

‘I … I did some work for him.’

Vaughn looked around, then leaned in, fascinated by this revelation. ‘What do you mean you worked for him? You do know he’s part of the reason why Soho is being taken over?’

Chloe didn’t know any of this. All she knew was Jodie had introduced her to him, and all she cared about was sorting out Uncle Alfie. So Chloe-Jane answered as she always did when she wasn’t sure what she should say.

‘I dunno.’

‘Well I do, Chloe, and I’m telling you right now, that guy is dangerous.’

‘So will you help me then? Will you call some of your people?’

Vaughn thought about it for a moment. But only for a moment. What did it matter if Soho was taken over, he’d probably never see it again anyway. And as for Alfie, he could rot in hell.

Standing up, Vaughn looked at Chloe. ‘No, no, I’m sorry I can’t help you.’

Chloe flushed with anger. ‘You mean you won’t.’

‘Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.’ Vaughn turned to walk away, but stopped, and turned back; real concern showing in his eyes. ‘But Chloe, you need to stay away from that man. You hear me? Stay away from Mr Lee.’

Half an hour later, Vaughn sat in his cell, musing everything over. He refused to acknowledge the look of terror in Chloe’s eyes. The girl was trouble. He refused to acknowledge her trembling body language. She’d brought it on herself. He refused to acknowledge her heartfelt pleas. She was a game player. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It was no good. She was still just a kid.

Going into the secret compartment in his mattress, Vaughn Sadler pulled out his prohibited phone. He needed to make a call.

43

Chloe-Jane stood outside Franny’s flat. The lights were all off, and if she knew one thing about Franny’s housekeeper, she knew she would’ve clocked off early. Going to the bottom of her bag, Chloe pulled out a key. Although she’d given Franny the key back, she’d had a copy made. Old habits die hard.

When her mum had thrown her out and demanded her keys back, which she did often, Chloe had always made sure she had a spare set, allowing her to sneak back in to get dry clothes or even food. So when Franny had first given her the door key, without really giving it much thought, she’d had a set cut for herself.

Turning the lock, Chloe let herself in. Even though the housekeeper had told her that Franny was away, her heart was still racing as she entered the dark hallway. Hearing no sounds, Chloe made her way up the stairs. At the top, she turned right, going down the corridor to the last white door at the end.

Taking a deep breath, Chloe pushed the door open and stepped into Franny’s room. Looking around, her eyes darting everywhere, Chloe-Jane ran over to the tall wardrobe, dragging the bedside chair closer to it. Standing on it, Chloe felt on top of the wardrobe, pulling down the holdall right at the back.

She opened it, rummaging in the bag, but to her utter despair what she was looking for wasn’t inside. She wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t going to cry. But where was it? She knew it had been there a couple of weeks ago. She had seen the gun with her own eyes. And now it was gone.

Another old habit. Each time Chloe-Jane had gone to a new foster carer, she’d checked out her environment, knowing and in a way needing to find out all there was to know about the new place and the new people she was staying with. It had made her feel safe; well safer at least.

Knowing whether there was a hidden stash of porn, a bag of drugs or just seeing photos of the family on their holidays helped Chloe understand more about her new home. It allowed her to judge whether she needed to be on high alert, whether she needed to put a chair in front of her door at night when she went to bed or whether she could simply relax and know everything was going to be alright. And however much she’d liked Franny, that was what Chloe-Jane had needed to do when she’d stayed with her, and that was how she’d seen the gun, tucked away on the top of the wardrobe. But now it was gone.

Jumping off the chair, Chloe began to search around. She looked under the bed, on the dresser and eventually started to pull open drawers, carefully at first, but as her desperation built, so did her recklessness. She searched through clothes and scarves, letters and keepsakes, throwing them out and onto the floor.

Having no luck in the bedroom, Chloe made her way through to the walk-in-closet. Again she pulled at clothes, suitcases and shoeboxes; determined and frantic to find the gun. It was her only hope.

Running through to the lounge, Chloe went through the desk. There were photos, jewellery, and a bundle of fifty-pound notes. There were an array of keys, a diamond bracelet and other precious items, but none of it was of interest to Chloe.

Nothing. There was nothing which could help her. She had to think. The kitchen; maybe Franny had put the gun in there.

Diving into the handmade cupboards, Chloe pulled everything out. Pasta, rice, biscuits and multi-vitamins; all thrown and spilling onto the marble floor. The cupboard with all the crockery in it was the last place to look through.

Seeing nothing besides the expensive cut glass and tea sets, Chloe, about to go through to the bathroom to search, froze. Right there, tucked behind the decanter at the back was a small flap at the back of the cupboard.

With a lurch, Chloe stretched her arm further in, trying to get to the flap. In her haste she knocked the glasses over, sending them flying to shatter on the kitchen floor.

Chloe, focused only on what was behind the flap, pulled it open. And there was what she’d been looking for. Franny’s gun.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ The voice behind Chloe-Jane startled and terrified her all at the same time. It was Franny.

Chloe whipped round, relief on her face. ‘Fran, Fran, I’m so pleased you’re here … It’s Alfie. It’s Uncle Alfie.’

Franny stared at Chloe, unable to say anything as she looked around. Her entire kitchen had been ransacked. Food, letters, bills and broken crockery strewn everywhere. Forcing her eyes away from the floor, Franny spoke angrily.

‘It’s not enough for you to mess about with people’s lives, you have to rob them as well.’

Chloe’s face drained. ‘No … No … Oh my God, no, it ain’t like that.’ She paused to look around. ‘I know it seems like that, but I was looking for something.’

Franny’s eyes flashed. ‘In
my
house! You were looking for something in
my
house!’

‘You weren’t in.’

Franny shook her head in amazement. ‘So what? You thought you’d break in? Have you heard yourself, Chloe?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Sorry! I got a call from Vaughn, saying you might be in trouble, but clearly he’s got it wrong. He obviously don’t know you’ve taken up burglary.’

‘I didn’t break in. I used keys.’

‘What?… Oh, this gets better.’

Chloe shifted on the spot. ‘I … I …’

Franny’s voice was loud and furious. ‘Actually, I don’t care! I don’t want to hear it, Chloe, only for the fact I don’t see eye to eye with the Old Bill I’m not calling them … Now get out, before … Oh, just get out, Chloe!’ The hurt showed in Franny’s face as she grabbed Chloe by her arm.

Chloe pulled away, staggering backwards. ‘I ain’t trying to upset you, Alfie’s in danger. Mr Lee has got him. He’s got him locked up.’

‘So that makes it fine to burgle my house?’

Chloe shook her head. ‘No, I wasn’t, I swear. I was looking for this.’ Chloe pulled out the gun from the cupboard. Franny froze, her voice dropped to a whisper.