‘I’m not sure,’ Skye murmured, aware that her hands were shaking as she reached for a tea-towel to take the plates back out of the oven. She would ordinarily have been thrilled by his approval, but any pride she had been feeling before he came in had now been replaced by fear.
‘Just share some onto another plate,’ Tom said, strolling over to wash his hands.
Skye nodded. Then, casting a hooded glance back at the girl, she whispered, ‘Can I talk to you for a minute?’
When she put the plates down on the ledge and walked into the living room, Tom told Chloe to make herself comfortable before following Skye out.
‘What’s up?’ he asked, leaving the door ajar.
Skye pushed it shut and hissed, ‘Why did you bring her here? What if she recognises me?’
‘Don’t panic.’ Tom gave an unconcerned grin. ‘She hasn’t got a clue who you are.’
‘How do you know?’ Skye peered up at him with dread in her eyes. ‘She might have seen me on the news, or on those posters the police were handing out.’
‘I doubt anyone would recognise you from them,’ he scoffed. ‘They’re not that good.’
‘But she might,’ Skye whined.
‘Calm down,’ Tom crooned, pulling her into his arms. ‘I’ll ask her if she’s seen you before, and if she has we’ll deal with it.’
‘How?’ Skye sniffed and rested her head on his chest, grateful that he was no longer angry with her. It had been a lonely few weeks.
‘We’ll think of something,’ he promised, stroking her hair. ‘But I guarantee she doesn’t know anything. Anyway, she’s in trouble herself so she’s not likely to want to talk to the police, is she?’
‘Why, what’s she done?’
‘Nothing. She’s a victim, like you. And that’s why I said she could stay.’ Tom drew his head back and grinned down at her. ‘You’re not jealous, are you?’
‘No.’ Skye blushed. ‘I’m just scared she’ll grass me up and I’ll get sent to prison.’
‘You’re going nowhere.’ Tom raised her chin with his finger and peered into her eyes. ‘You’re mine, and I’ll kill anyone who ever tries to come between us. Okay?’
Skye nodded, and Tom kissed her on the forehead before easing her away. ‘Right, let’s go and eat,’ he said. ‘And be nice to Chloe,’ he added as he reached out to open the door. ‘She’s young and scared, and we need to make her feel welcome.’
Skye took a deep breath and, forcing a smile onto her lips, followed him back into the kitchen where Chloe was now slumped in a chair with her hands shoved deep into her jacket pockets and a look of boredom on her face. Unnerved by the unfriendly look the girl gave her, Skye took an extra plate out of the cupboard and set about sharing a portion from each of her and Tom’s meals onto it.
Annoyed when she glanced back over her shoulder and saw that Tom hadn’t taken his usual chair but was sitting next to Chloe, she gritted her teeth. He had been teasing when he’d asked if she was jealous just now, but maybe she was, a little. She’d felt like an outsider at home, always stuck in her room while her mum and dad got on with their own lives down below. And it had been no better at school, where most of the other kids had looked down on her because of her scruffy clothes. Hayley had been her only real friend – or, at least, Skye had thought she was. But even Hayley hadn’t made her feel as special as Tom did, and she resented that he was now paying so much attention to this girl.
Determined to let this cuckoo know that she wasn’t welcome in her nest, Skye carried their plates over to the table and slammed Chloe’s down in front of her.
‘Hey, watch it,’ Tom scolded when sauce splashed onto Chloe’s jacket. ‘Look what you’ve done.’
‘My hand slipped,’ Skye lied, sitting across from them.
‘Not good enough,’ Tom snapped. ‘She’s a guest, and you need to apologise.’
‘Sorry,’ Skye murmured, afraid of putting him back into a bad mood so soon after winning back his affection. ‘I didn’t mean to spill it – the plate was hot.’
Tom accepted this and nodded his approval. Then, reaching for his fork, he twirled spaghetti around it and shifted sideways in his seat to look at Chloe.
‘So, you were telling me about your dad. I take it you didn’t get on too well?’
‘He’s a pig,’ Chloe said, mimicking his action and twisting spaghetti around her own fork. ‘I don’t blame my mum for walking out on him; I just wish she’d taken me with her so he wouldn’t have started doing all that stuff.’
‘What stuff?’
‘You know.’ Chloe shrugged, and pushed her laden fork into her mouth. ‘Sex, an’ that.’
Irritated to see that Tom didn’t look bothered about Chloe talking with her mouth full, when just two days earlier he’d criticised her for accidentally doing the same, Skye jabbed her fork viciously into her own food.
‘He used to beat me and my mum up all the time,’ Chloe went on. ‘He got worse after she left, but I was used to it by then, so I wasn’t really fussed. I just didn’t like it when he started making me sleep in his bed.’
‘Did you tell anyone?’ Tom asked, his gaze riveted to her face.
‘Nah.’ Chloe shook her head. ‘What’s the point? No one ever believes me.’
Skye listened in silence as the girl continued to pour out her tale of woe. If it was true, then it was terrible because fathers weren’t meant to do those disgusting things to their own daughters. But there was something not quite right about this girl, and Skye wasn’t sure she believed her.
After dinner, Tom showed Chloe up to the bathroom, leaving Skye to clear up on her own. She washed the plates quickly, and was about to go up to see what they were doing when Tom strolled back in. When he saw the sulky expression on her face, he drew his head back and gave her a questioning look.
‘What’s up with you?’
‘I don’t like being ignored,’ she complained. ‘I’m supposed to be your fiancée, but you’ve just sat there talking to her like I wasn’t even here.’
‘Don’t be so stupid,’ Tom said dismissively. Then, looking around, he asked, ‘Where’s that wine I left on the ledge?’
‘In the fridge.’
‘Why have you put it in there?’ He stalked over and yanked the door open. ‘Red wine’s supposed to be drunk at room temperature.’
‘Sorry,’ Skye muttered under her breath. ‘How was I supposed to know?’
‘Stop being so childish,’ Tom scolded, taking three cups out of the cupboard. ‘You’re not off probation yet so you’d better drop the attitude, ’cos you’re getting on my nerves.’
Chloe appeared in the doorway just then, wearing Skye’s dressing gown. Tom smiled when he saw her and nodded his head towards the living-room door, saying, ‘Go and make yourself comfortable in there; I won’t be a minute.’
When she’d gone, he turned to Skye and said, ‘Go and keep her company while I do this. And be nice: she’s a guest.’
A little mollified that he had again described the girl as a guest, Skye went into the living room. But her hackles rose all over again when she found Chloe sprawled on the couch puffing on the cigarette she’d just lit.
‘Is that one of Tom’s?’ she demanded, perching on his armchair when it became clear that the girl wasn’t about to move over for her.
‘What if it is?’ Chloe retorted cockily. ‘He told me to help myself, so I did. Got a problem with that?’
‘No,’ Skye lied. ‘I was only asking.’
Chloe smiled to herself and blew a smoke ring. ‘I think I’m going to like it here,’ she said, poking her finger through it.
‘You’re only staying, not moving in,’ Skye reminded her.
‘We’ll see,’ Chloe said cryptically.
Skye frowned when the girl shot her a challenging look. Tom had said she was scared, but she didn’t seem scared to Skye. There was an air of hardness about her that was reminiscent of the bullies who had made Skye’s life a misery at school and in the home.
/>
Tom joined them a couple of minutes later and handed a cup of wine to Skye, and then a second one to Chloe before sitting down with his own at the other end of the couch. Skye took a sip and almost choked on it when she noticed Chloe slide one of her feet towards him and press the tips of her toes against his thigh. It was clearly deliberate, but Tom didn’t seem to have noticed.
‘I was just saying that I think I’m going to like it here,’ Chloe said, gazing innocently over at him. ‘Did you mean it when you said I could stay as long as I want?’
‘Course I did,’ he affirmed.
‘Thought so.’ She cast a sly glance at Skye.
‘She’s not moving in, though, is she?’ Skye blurted out, determined to put the cocky cow in her place.
‘Don’t be so selfish,’ Tom scolded.
‘It’s all right.’ Chloe adopted a wounded expression and placed her cup on the table before dropping her feet to the floor. ‘She obviously doesn’t want me here, and I don’t want to cause any bother, so I’ll go.’
‘No, you won’t,’ Tom insisted. ‘This is my house, and I decide who stays or goes.’
Already upset that he was taking the girl’s side over hers, Skye was furious when Chloe smirked at her. But she knew it would be pointless to say anything, so she took another deep swallow of wine.
All innocence again when Tom turned back to her, Chloe smiled and said, ‘Thanks for letting me stay. It’s been ages since I slept in a real bed.’
‘You’re more than welcome,’ Tom said, picking her cup up and handing it back to her. ‘I promised I’d look after you, and I will. Now just relax and drink your wine, then I’ll run you a bath.’
Skye drank the rest of her wine in one go and stood up.
‘Where are you going?’ Tom asked when she started walking towards the door.
‘To get another drink,’ she told him clippily.
‘I’ll get it.’ He jumped up and snatched the empty cup from her hand. ‘How about you, Chloe? Ready for another one?’
Chloe finished her drink and handed her cup to him. Then, lounging back when he’d left the room, she looped her hands together behind her head, and said, ‘Yep, I’m definitely going to like it here.’
Thoroughly agitated, Skye sat back down and rapped her fingernails on the arm of the chair. This was going to be a long night, and she couldn’t wait for it to be over.
15
Bright sunlight was streaming through a gap in the curtains when Skye woke up the next morning, and her head throbbed painfully when it hit her eyes. Desperate to escape its line of fire, she rolled onto her side and pulled her pillow down over her face. She hadn’t felt this bad since her first night here, when she hadn’t been used to alcohol and had got really, really drunk. And, just like that time, she couldn’t remember having come up to bed last night. Guessing that Tom must have carried her upstairs again, and hoping that he wasn’t annoyed with her, she slid her hand over to his side of the bed.
‘Tom …? Are you awake?’
He wasn’t there and the sheet felt cool to her touch, as if it had been some time since he left the bed – if he’d even slept there at all.
Sick at the thought that he might not have done, Skye squinted at the alarm clock he kept on his bedside table. Her head felt woolly, but she was pretty sure it was Monday. He always left for work at seven a.m. and it was only 6:45, so she might still catch him.
Tom wasn’t in the kitchen when she got downstairs, but she could see his car through the window so she knew he hadn’t left yet. She looked into the living room, wondering if he might have slept on the couch, but he wasn’t in there either. About to withdraw her head, she hesitated when she spotted a filthy pair of trainers lying upturned on the floor. Confused, because they weren’t hers, and they were far too small to be Tom’s, she breathed in sharply when a vision of a young girl suddenly flashed into her mind.
Chloe.
The name came on the heels of the vision, and Skye rushed back out into the hall as a sickening wave of suspicion washed over her.
‘Tom?’ she yelled, racing up the stairs. ‘TOOOOM!’
‘Sshhh!’ Tom hissed, walking out of the bathroom just as she reached the landing. He was bare-chested, and was rubbing his wet hair with a towel. ‘What are you shouting for?’
‘I – I didn’t know where you were,’ she croaked, feeling a little foolish for having thought that he was with Chloe. ‘I wanted to see you before you went to work.’
‘I’m not in work today,’ he told her, strolling into the bedroom. ‘It’s a bank holiday.’
‘Oh, right,’ Skye murmured, following him and sitting on the end of the bed. ‘Are you going out?’ she asked when he pulled a T-shirt over his head and shoved his feet into his trainers.
‘Yeah, I need to get Chloe some new clothes.’
‘Why?’
Tom had just started combing his hair but he twisted his head around when Skye asked him this, and said, ‘I hope you’re not questioning me?’
Skye shivered when she heard the anger in his voice, and mumbled, ‘No. I just don’t see why you’ve got to buy clothes for her, that’s all.’
‘Because she needs them,’ he replied irritably. ‘Her stuff was too dirty, so I threw it out. Anyway, like I said last night, this is my house and I won’t have you tell me what I can and can’t do. I don’t see why you’ve got such a problem with her, anyway. She hasn’t done anything to you.’
‘Yeah, she has,’ Skye countered sulkily. ‘She was horrible to me last night.’
‘No, she wasn’t.’
‘She was. You didn’t see the way she kept looking at me when you weren’t watching.’
‘Right, pack it in!’ Tom barked, slamming the comb down on the dresser. ‘I’ve tried to be nice, but you obviously haven’t learned your lesson yet. She’s staying, and that’s the end of it. Have you got that?’
When Skye nodded, he took two small paper wraps out of his pocket and tossed them onto the bed, saying, ‘Give one of those to Chloe when she gets up. And make sure she has something to eat.’
With that he left, leaving Skye to fume in silence.
Chloe felt terrible when she woke up a couple of hours later, and she was confused to find herself in bed because she didn’t remember having come upstairs. In fact, she didn’t remember much of anything after Tom had brought out the wine last night, so she guessed that she must have had too much and this was the hangover.
When an all too familiar itching sensation began to crawl over her skin, she sat up and scratched her face as she looked around for her jacket. Tom had talked her into coming here yesterday with the promise of food and a bed, and she had only agreed on condition that he let her stop off on the way to score a couple of wraps. She’d guessed that he was some kind of do-gooder who thought he was going to ‘save’ her from her life on the streets, and she had no doubt that he would probably try to get her off the smack while she was here. But there was no way she was going cold turkey. She’d been there and done that, and had no intention of putting herself through it again.
Her clothes were nowhere to be seen, so she got up and made her way downstairs to the kitchen.
‘Where’s my clothes?’ she asked when she saw Skye on her hands and knees scrubbing the life out of the lino. ‘My head’s killing me, and I need my stuff.’
Skye shot a frosty look back over her shoulder and, sloshing the scrubbing brush into the bucket of soapy water, sniped back, ‘It’s your own fault for drinking so much. You’re obviously too young to handle it.’
‘I’m not that much younger than you,’ Chloe retorted churlishly.
‘I’m nearly sixteen,’ Skye lied. ‘What are you, twelve?’
‘Fifteen, actually.’ Chloe gave her a smug smile.
‘Maybe so, but I’m more grown-up,’ snapped Skye.
‘Whatever,’ Chloe said dismissively, looking around. ‘So where’s my stuff?’
‘In the bin,’ Skye told her. ‘Tom said he didn�
��t want it in the house ’cos it stinks.’
‘You’d better be kidding me!’ Chloe gasped, rushing over to the bin. ‘My gear’s in the pocket.’
‘Not that one,’ Skye said when the girl yanked the bin lid up. ‘It’s in the outside one. And that’s locked,’ she added when Chloe ran to the back door. ‘So don’t bother trying it.’
When Chloe turned and rushed out into the hall, Skye guessed that she was going to try the front door, and called, ‘That one’s locked, as well. And the windows are nailed down, before you start on them.’
‘This isn’t funny,’ Chloe said, visibly shaking when she came back after running around the house looking for exits. ‘Why’s everything barricaded? It’s locked up tighter than fucking Strangeways.’
‘Tom likes to know I’m safe when he’s out,’ Skye told her. ‘But don’t worry,’ she added resentfully. ‘He took your stupid drugs out of your pocket before he binned your stuff.’
‘Where is it?’ Chloe asked, looking around the spotless ledges before pulling a drawer open.
‘Don’t root,’ Skye scolded. ‘Nothing in there belongs to you.’
‘It don’t belong to you, neither,’ Chloe said irritably as she rifled through the drawer’s contents. ‘It’s Tom’s house, not yours.’
‘Me and Tom are engaged,’ Skye informed her tartly. ‘So everything is mine as well as his.’
‘I don’t see no ring on your finger,’ Chloe sneered, resuming her search.
‘It was too big, so he’s getting it changed,’ Skye lied, her cheeks flaming. ‘We’re getting married next year, so there!’
‘If you say so.’
Infuriated, Skye threw the brush into the bucket and stood up. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Unfazed by her aggressive stance, Chloe said, ‘It means you’re dreaming if you think he’s gonna marry you. If I wanted him, I could take him off you like that.’ She clicked her fingers.
Skye’s chest was heaving, and her eyes were glinting with anger. ‘I knew you were after him,’ she hissed. ‘But you’re never going to get him, so you’d better just give up and get lost.’
Chloe shook her head. ‘You’re proper thick, you, aren’t you?’
Afraid Page 17
