First Date: An absolutely jaw-dropping psychological thriller

by Sue Watson

‘No. Don’t do anything stupid, Chloe. I’m here for you, please meet me.’ I remember a little coffee shop in Cathedral square, I met her there once before, it’s not far from the river. I need to get her away from water in her current state, so I tell her to go there, wait for me, and to order whatever she wants.

  ‘I’m leaving the office now, I’ll be there in a few minutes. Don’t go anywhere else. Please stay there and wait for me,’ I repeat, worried she’ll go AWOL.

  It’s quicker to get into Worcester city centre by foot rather than drive and have to find somewhere to park, so I basically run to the cafe. But as I get near the square my phone rings. It’s Alex.

  ‘Hannah, are you in the square, near the cathedral?’

  ‘Yes… I’m just going to—’

  ‘She’s nearby. I’ve just checked and Helen’s around that area. Obviously I can’t see exactly, but it shows the two of you aren’t far from each other.’

  I gasp. ‘Oh God, no.’ I’m desperate to get to Chloe, if I’m late she might not hang around. I was so concerned about her, I’d almost forgotten about Helen, but I doubt she’s forgotten about me. My eyes scan the area, I suddenly feel very exposed.

  ‘She can’t do anything though, can she? It’s broad daylight and busy—’

  ‘Who knows? If she’s nearby you’ve got to protect yourself!’

  ‘You’re scaring me, Alex.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘I’m sure she won’t do anything so drastic, but she is potentially dangerous and you mustn’t, whatever you do, engage with her.’

  ‘I have no intention of doing that,’ I say. I’m really on edge now, my head whipping around to see if she’s behind me. To the side, a boy on a bike rides past too close and I let out a little yelp.

  ‘Is it her?’ Alex demands.

  ‘No, no, I’m fine – sorry.’

  ‘God, Hannah, you scared me,’ he says, then pauses and asks, ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To the coffee bar in the square, I’m meeting Chloe.’

  ‘Well, you know where Helen works, so just make sure you’re not anywhere near there.’

  ‘Okay… I’ll have to go.’

  ‘I’m watching, Hannah. I’ll keep an eye on where you both are.’

  ‘Okay… but, Alex, she won’t know what I look like anyway.’

  There’s a moment where he hesitates to say anything, then obviously decides to be honest. ‘I showed her photos of you, when we met for lunch. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Oh, Alex.’ I sigh wearily.

  ‘I know. Stupid of me, but when I showed her your photo I thought she’d be pleased, I never expected… this.’

  ‘Look, I have to go Alex,’ I say, not sure what to worry about most, Chloe or Helen.

  ‘Okay, but be aware she’s still around there somewhere. I’ll keep checking.’

  ‘Okay, thanks, bye.’

  I continue to walk cautiously, but quickly, along the high street. I’m scared of Helen, but equally scared of Chloe doing a runner, so I just keep moving, checking every face that passes me, until the inevitable happens. Alex told me Helen was nearby, and just as I’m passing Yo! Sushi, she’s walking in the opposite direction – towards me.

  I see her face close up, I know it’s her, I’ve seen the scribbled-out photo at Alex’s and the clear, professional one on the solicitor’s website. Yes, it’s definitely her, and for a nanosecond our eyes meet. I contain a horrified gasp and keep walking, as does she. But my instinct is to turn around and check she’s not behind me, and as I do, I see her standing in the middle of the high street facing me, staring at me. I turn back and start to walk quickly, my heart now in my mouth, I’m screaming inside, and as I check over my shoulder, she’s now walking towards me, very fast.

  I hear her calling my name, she’s shouting, ‘Hannah, are you Hannah?’ her voice louder as she gets closer. There’s nothing for it, I have to run, so I make a dash for it and hide in a doorway waiting, trembling. I realise within seconds how stupid this is, if she finds me here there’s no escape. I have literally placed myself against a wall, out of view from everyone.

  I stand there for at least five minutes, which is a very long time when you have no idea if any moment the person who wants to hurt you might appear. I can’t breathe, but even now, I’m aware that Chloe will be waiting and I can’t let her down again. So I gather myself together and, still breathless, make the short walk to the coffee shop, constantly checking over my shoulder. When I get inside, she’s sitting there, forlorn, in a hoodie and jeans, but no coat – she must be freezing. I’m relieved to be tucked inside the coffee shop, where people are drinking and eating and doing normal things. Even if Helen saw me through the window and came inside, surely she wouldn’t do anything, there are too many people in here. I’ll keep my eye on the door, but will now put what just happened to the back of my mind. This is Chloe’s time, and too many people have already let her down, I need to be present for her. So I lock everything else up in that box in my head, brace myself and walk to her table.

  Chloe looks up as I sit down. She doesn’t smile and I’m immediately struck by how much thinner she looks since I saw her a few days ago. Her skin is paper-white, there are shadows around her eyes, and her lips are cracked and dry.

  ‘Have you ordered food, love? You look like you could do with some.’

  She nods listlessly. Hard, dark eyeliner circles her eyes, a grotesque parody of a teenager who, just a few months ago, was beginning to blossom. All she needed was a little support and encouragement, to know someone cared what happened to her. No one understood that more than me, and I loved watching her develop, despite her family and my unease about her mother’s boyfriend. I even convinced her to work towards school exams, think about an apprenticeship, but who knows where she’s headed now. I just know if I don’t do something, she’ll be lost, like her mum before her.

  ‘What’s going on, Chloe?’ I say, looking into her face, trying to comprehend why at just sixteen she’s given up on life. ‘You said you wanted to tell me something, said you were scared. I want you to know you can trust me.’

  She nods.

  ‘So tell me, I want to help.’

  ‘Mum threw me out cos of Pete… he’s…’ She trails off, her head bowed, not looking at me.

  ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘He left, and Mum says it’s my fault – I’m causing trouble. She said to bugger off and don’t come back.’

  She’s little more than a child, how any mother could abandon their daughter like that I can’t begin to understand.

  ‘Oh, Chloe, I’m so sorry. Anything that happens between your mum and her boyfriend is not your fault, whatever she says. You know that don’t you?’

  A waitress arrives with a Coke for Chloe and I order a coffee.

  ‘You need a brownie to go with that,’ I say, knowing they’re her favourite.

  She shrugs, but I order her one and, in moments, the waitress returns with it on a plate.

  Chloe starts to eat, breaking up the brownie into little morsels, tiny mouthfuls, that she forces down while we talk.

  ‘So did something happen, with you and Pete?’ I have a feeling she’s not telling me everything. Last night when she left the message she said she was scared.

  She looks at me, all wide-eyed. ‘The bastard hit my mum, so I went for him and then it all went to shit. He buggered off, told Mum he wasn’t coming back. I was glad, but then Mum turned on me, said I started it. But, Hannah, I didn’t, he was hurting her.’ She drops the half-eaten brownie onto the plate like it’s inedible.

  ‘So that’s when she threw you out?’

  ‘Yeah.’ She’s looking down, I can’t see her face.

  ‘Where did you sleep last night?’ My coffee arrives, and I thank the waitress.

  ‘I slept down by the river.’

  ‘Oh, Chloe, I’m so sorry. You called me late, and I didn’t get your message until—’

  ‘It’s not your fault, Hannah. It’s mine.’
>
  ‘No, it isn’t, please don’t ever think that. We can’t have you sleeping rough, love. I’ll sort it – make sure you’re safe.’

  She looks at me warily.

  ‘You told me you were scared, in the message you left on my phone. Were you scared of your situation – or was it someone…? Were you scared of someone?’

  For a moment I think she’s going to tell me something. But she just stares ahead.

  I try again. ‘I know you don’t think you can trust anyone at the moment – but you can trust me, I promise.’

  ‘I can’t.’ She sighs, defeated, as if she’s given up on everyone, including herself.

  My heart breaks, I feel I’ve let her down. I think about Jas’s advice about trying to be more detached – but I don’t know if I can be.

  ‘You can trust me,’ I encourage, ‘but I have to know what’s happening so I can help. Is there something you want to tell me about, Chloe?’

  ‘No.’

  I’m not giving up that easily. ‘Is it your mum’s boyfriend – Pete? Are you scared of him?’

  She curls her lip.

  ‘Is it someone else? Are you still seeing Josh?’ She sometimes goes out with an older boy who lives on her estate. He’s not exactly a dream date; the rumour is he’s a drug dealer.

  She doesn’t answer me.

  I take a breath. ‘Okay. Something’s upset you, or someone has. You were doing so well, what happened?’

  Slowly, Chloe begins to speak. ‘I can’t tell, he says he’ll… he’ll… lose his job.’

  ‘I don’t understand, he’ll lose his job because…?’ I reach my hand out to her at the table, but she draws hers away.

  This bothers me. Everything about Chloe’s life bothers me at the moment. Here is a young girl with her whole life ahead of her, a sixteen-year-old who feels lost and confused, like I once had. ‘This person… Why would he lose his job? Are you having a relationship with him, Chloe?’ She’s only recently turned sixteen, if she’s been having a sexual relationship with someone lately, she was probably underage. Whoever it is, he could not just lose his job, but go to prison.

  She takes another sip of Coke. This is an older, harder Chloe than the one I’ve been dealing with these past few months. One of the most frustrating things about my job is that child protection plans rarely cover the full range of needs a vulnerable child may have. Work pressures, high caseloads and limited resources mean that kids like Chloe can slip through the net too easily. I watch her now, sipping her Coke, avoiding my eyes, and I know she’s hiding something. But if she’s in an inappropriate relationship with someone, even her mother’s boyfriend, all I can do is strongly advise her against it and offer guidance. I can also offer practical help, and find her somewhere else to live where she’s less vulnerable to his advances.

  ‘Talk to me, Chloe,’ I say gently.

  She doesn’t speak, just puts her head down.

  ‘It’s okay. You can talk to me, you won’t be in trouble.’

  ‘No but he will be. He made me swear never to tell.’

  ‘That’s because he’s in the wrong.’ I lean across the table so I can ask quietly, ‘Is he much older than you?’

  She nods, very slowly.

  I try to sound casual. ‘Okay, so, have you been with him long?’ I need to coax it out of her rather than make her feel under pressure.

  ‘Couple of years,’ she murmurs, and I try not to register my horror. This means she was thirteen or fourteen when the relationship started.

  ‘Is it a… friend of your mum’s?’

  She shakes her head.

  ‘If you don’t want to tell me Chloe, that’s up to you. I can’t make you talk about it. I just want you to trust me and know that if he’s threatened you, or if you’re scared of him for any reason, I can help you.’

  She stops sipping on her Coke and looks up at me for a split second then bursts into tears. I watch, surprised, as she falls apart, all the brittleness cracking and melting in the onslaught of emotion. The hurt and confused child emerges from under the hard black-lined eye make-up. I hand her a paper napkin, and tell her I’m here and I can help her, but I’m not sure she hears me.

  We stay in the coffee shop for another hour, and I try every which way to get more information from her. But she’s been told not to tell, and even my gentle questioning, my offers of help and my reassurances that she will be kept safe don’t make any difference, and by the time the paper napkin has been shredded between her thin, little-girl fingers covered in rings and home-made tattoos, my hope fades. It might be out of fear, or loyalty, but Chloe isn’t going to tell me anything about the man who’s been sleeping with her since she was thirteen years old. I promise her that as soon as she wants to tell me or she needs my help, I’m here.

  As the waitress sweeps the floor, and the light fades outside, my thoughts return to Chloe’s immediate situation. Right now, I may not be able to find out who her abuser is, and I may not be able to keep her from seeing him, but I can find her somewhere safe to stay tonight.

  ‘So, Chloe, I’m going to call round a few places until I can find you somewhere to sleep, and I want you to promise me you’ll stay there.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah.’ She shrugs, but I can see her shoulders have relaxed slightly knowing she won’t be sleeping by the river tonight.

  I get on my phone to call the local hostels, and as I tell her story to each stranger who picks up the phone, she gazes ahead listlessly. Reaching for her glass of Coke, I notice her sleeve rides up, and I see a ladder of fine scars running up her arm. Our eyes meet. She knows I know, and pulls her sleeve down awkwardly, realising that I’ve clocked the tiny tell-tale stamp running along her flesh. I look at her face, and see my mother’s eyes staring back. She’s using.

  I try to smile reassuringly, but I’m reminded of being a little girl again, in a dark and spiky world. My heart sinks, and another battle begins.

  It’s a fraught walk back through Worcester to the office, my mind so consumed with Chloe I haven’t given Helen a thought until I get to the square where I’d encountered her earlier. I suddenly feel vulnerable in the dark, and even though it’s bustling with people Christmas shopping, I check behind me every now and then.

  As soon as I get back to work I call Alex to tell him about Helen chasing me and calling my name. The others are aghast, and keep saying I should call the police, but Alex has a couple of mates in the police and he says he’ll talk to them about it before we take anything further.

  ‘The problem is, she hasn’t actually done anything yet,’ he says.

  ‘Yes, but she told you she wants to hurt me,’ I protest. ‘I’m scared, Alex, thank God you told me she was in the area, at least she couldn’t take me by surprise.’

  ‘Exactly. The app gives me a rough location, and I know when you’re in the same vicinity, sadly I can’t pinpoint exactly where you are.’

  ‘So you wouldn’t know if she was literally inches away?’ I ask, horrified.

  ‘No… not really,’ he says awkwardly.

  ‘Shit, Alex, I thought you were going to come steaming in the minute she got too close, I thought you’d know.’

  ‘Not exactly, the technology isn’t that good.’

  ‘So I should call the police next time she’s nearby.’

  ‘No – look, you have to trust me, we don’t want to aggravate an already sticky situation. I know the law around this – it’s complex, but I promise I’ve got this.’

  ‘Okay,’ I say reluctantly, ‘but if anything like this happens again, or I’m even slightly unsure or scared, I’m straight on to the police.’ With that, I put the phone down. I hate that Alex has put me in this situation, and I can’t believe he made it worse by showing her a photo. She was his wife, he must know her, and he must have guessed how she’d react to the fact he now has a new girlfriend. Then again, I’ve been surprised at Tom’s behaviour since we parted – and I thought I knew him inside out.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

&nb
sp; Sameera’s wedding is in early January, so with a week to go before Christmas, we’re combining her hen night with our office Christmas night out. It’s not strictly a hen night, because Harry’s coming along, but he’s being an honorary girl for the night and will be wearing the pre-requisite bunny ears, which – worryingly – he can’t wait to do.

  ‘I’m not sure you’d get me wearing bunny ears on a girls’ night out,’ Alex says when I tell him our plans.

  ‘I think you’d look cute.’ I laugh.

  I’m back at his house after work, he’s cooking dinner while I go through my report on Chloe. I managed to get her a safe place to stay through Children's Services, but the problems clearly go deeper. All I can garner from talking to her is that she’s in a relationship with an older man who seems to have a hold on her. She’s refusing to say anything about him, and I am forming a theory I’ve just run by Alex.

  ‘What if, rather than Pete hitting her mum, Carol discovered that something’s going on between Pete and Chloe, and that’s why she threw her out of the house?

  ‘Possibly,’ he murmurs. He seems distracted.

  ‘Chloe apparently doesn’t always tell the truth, but then who can blame her?’ I continue, knowing that in Chloe’s world, the truth is a horrible place.

  ‘Bit odd though, Harry coming along on a hen night isn’t it?’ he says, suddenly going back to our previous conversation.

  ‘What…?’ Two worlds are colliding, and I suddenly remember what we were talking about. ‘No, Harry’s one of the girls, and he might bring Gemma anyway. We’re going straight from work, so it would be a bit mean if we didn’t invite him – not to mention sexist.’

  ‘Fair enough. So, I could come too then?’ Alex asks.

  I wouldn’t mind Alex coming along, but I’m not sure how the others would feel. It isn’t a couples’ night and as he doesn’t yet know any of them, he might feel like a spare part.

  ‘You could, but it’s a hen do, Alex.’

  ‘Yeah, but if Harry’s going?’

  ‘It’s… I told you he’s an honorary girl. It’s also our work Christmas outing. He fits one criteria, you don’t fit any,’ I half-joke.