‘That Chloe’s seeing him again? I doubt it. If she does she hasn’t said anything to me. And she hated Jules’s guts.’

Some students from the class I’m due to take pass by outside and wave through the window. I raise my hand, relieved when they don’t come in.

‘Tell me what happened,’ I say.

Jez plays uneasily with his cup. ‘The man’s a real bastard. He’d got some upmarket gym in Docklands, but he calls himself an entrepreneur. Flash sort, but hard as nails, you know?’

I nod. ‘I’ve met him.’

‘So I don’t need to tell you. He gave Chloe a really bad time. She was sort of a trophy for him. You know, good-looking, an artist. Different from his normal type. He bought some of her paintings, that’s how they met. But he was a real control freak, the sort who gets a kick from putting people down, you know? He’s the one who got her onto coke and thrown out of art college.’

‘What?’

Jez looks crestfallen. ‘Shit, I thought you knew.’

This is all news to me. It’s like I’ve stepped into a parallel world. ‘Go on.’

‘Oh, man, Yasmin’s going to kill me.’ He sighs, rubbing his hand over his face. ‘Jules was into that whole drug scene. VIP lounges, clubs, parties. And it wasn’t just steroids you could get at his gym, if you know what I mean. There was this big guy who used to supply him with stuff. Evil bastard, you wouldn’t mess with him.’

That sounds like Lenny. I feel numb. Jez is looking at me worriedly.

‘You sure you want to hear this?’

‘Just tell me.’

‘Yasmin tried to help, but Chloe was… well, you know. Then one night she OD’d on some shit Jules had given her. Yas found her and got her to hospital, then into rehab. She made Chloe change her phone number and move in with her until she was up to getting her own place. Completely cut Jules out of the loop, which pissed him off no end. He made all sorts of threats, trying to find out where Chloe was, but Yas wouldn’t budge. And once Chloe was away from him she got herself straightened out. Started painting again, met you.’ He shrugs. ‘That’s it.’

It’s as if he’s talking about a different person. Now I understand why Yasmin was so angry when Callum produced the coke at Chloe’s celebration. Why she didn’t want her hopes building up over the gallery. Painting was Chloe’s prop, a new addiction to replace the old. And it had been pulled away from her.

The chair scrapes on the floor tiles as I stand up. ‘Sean? Where are you going? Sean!’ Jez shouts after me as I walk out.

I take no notice. I feel as though I’m already too late as I catch a tube back to Earl’s Court. Chloe isn’t at the flat so I search each room, scattering clothes, books and DVD cases. I find it under a loose panel in the bathroom. An innocent plastic box with an airtight lid.

Inside is a small bag of white powder, razor blade and makeup mirror.

I’m sitting at the kitchen table when she comes home from work. She pauses when she sees the box in front of me, then closes the door and begins to take off her coat.

‘Aren’t you going to say anything?’ I ask.

‘I’m tired. Can we do this some other time?’

‘Like when? When you’re in rehab again?’

She hesitates, then turns her back and starts filling the kettle. ‘Who told you? Yasmin?’

‘It doesn’t matter who told me – why didn’t you?’

‘Why should I? It was a long time ago.’

‘And what about this?’ I push the plastic box across the table. ‘Is that from a long time ago as well?’

‘I’m a big girl, I can do what I like.’

‘So what happened to “I’m sorry, I won’t play any more games”?’

She gives a humourless laugh. ‘You call this a game?’

I want to yell at her, but if I give in to it I’m scared I won’t be able to stop. ‘Where did you get it?’

‘Where do you think?’

Even though I’ve known, it still feels like I’ve been punched. I can’t bring myself to say Jules’s name. ‘Jesus Christ, Chloe, why?’

‘Why?’ She bangs down the kettle, water slopping onto the worktop. ‘Because I can’t stand feeling this shit all the time! Because I hate being such a fucking failure! And I’m sick of pretending I’m not! What are we even doing here? I’m working in a bar and you don’t even live in the real world!’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘You don’t even know, do you? You think watching films is real life? You don’t even make your own, you just watch other people’s! Other people’s films, other people’s lives, that’s all you know about! Christ, you rave about French films and fucking France, but you never actually go there! When was the last time you even went?’

I sweep the plastic box onto the floor and jump to my feet. Blood pulses behind my eyes.

‘Come on, then!’ she shouts. ‘Just for once in your life, why don’t you do something!’

But I’m already moving past her. I walk out blindly, leaving the sound of Chloe’s sobbing behind me.

12

‘I’M BORED.’

Gretchen throws down what’s left of the small yellow flower she’s been steadily denuding of petals. I try not to sigh.

‘Come on, try to remember.’ I hold up my fork. ‘What’s the English word for this?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Yes, you do. We’ve done it before.’

She doesn’t even look up. ‘Knife.’