Isabella's Heiress (13 page)

“Watch.”

As Emma looked at the light, it suddenly grew brighter until it radiated the same confident intensity as all the others.

“All I am doing is concentrating on the bulb and willing it to glow brighter.”

Father Eamon turned away and the bulb went back to its flickering former self.

“Have a go, see how it feels.”

Emma looked at the light and concentrated on the opaque cover that shielded the bulb. For a second the flickering seemed to quicken but then it went back to its irregular pattern. She tried again but with no success. The veins in her head started to pulse and she found herself holding her breath as she tried to bend the light to her will.

Eventually she gave up, exhausted and sat on the kerb. Water gurgled into a nearby drain as Emma sucked in deep breaths.

“Get your breath back, Emma and we'll try again. Try not to worry about not getting it first time.”

Father Eamon went and stood on the opposite side of the road and as she looked up, Emma realised they were now the only people left in the street. She stood up and walked into the middle of the tarmac, determined to get it right. She looked up at the flickering light and took a deep breath, concentrating on the dim orange glow of the filament. Slowly the flickering became less erratic and the glow went from a weak orange to a dim yellow. The glow started to gain in intensity until it was half the strength of the streetlights around it but at that point it stopped. Emma concentrated harder, her breathing becoming more laboured but it made no difference, she could not get it to glow any brighter. Eventually she gave up and the light went back to its flickering. Emma gave an exasperated groan before turning away.

Father Eamon walked over and motioned for Emma to turn back to the streetlight. “Try this.”

He raised his arm and pointed it towards the light. Emma watched as the light shone bright yellow before
returning to its orange flicker.

“Raise your arm until it is inline with your eye. Then point it at the lamp.”

Emma did as he said, raising her right arm until she could look down it and see the streetlight at the tip of her index finger, then she started to work on the light again, channelling her thoughts through her extended arm.

Slowly the light started to get brighter until it reached the point where it had stayed last time. Emma slowed her breathing and concentrated harder until, after a few seconds, the glow from the streetlight started to fill the air around it as it reached its full strength. She kept it there for a few seconds before dropping her arms and resting her hands on her knees. Even the sudden exhaustion couldn't keep the feeling of elation from rushing over her. When she stood up, there was a smile of deep satisfaction on her face. “I did it!”

“You did. Well done. You see it wasn't really that difficult was it.”

Father Eamon placed an arm around her shoulders in congratulations. “The next step is to learn to control that power so that it becomes easier and can be used for longer. There are exercises for that which I will show you. They will help you understand this ability more.”

Emma was about to respond when a half-scream struggled to make itself heard from a side street just a short way from where they were. Father Eamon headed over to the street followed by Emma. It was narrow and the lights afforded little in the way of illumination. At first Emma could see nothing but as her eyes became more accustomed, the shapes of two people against a wall became clear. They were at the far end of the road but it was impossible from where Emma was standing to be sure
what they were doing. After a few seconds, Emma started to walk towards the couple, an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach.

“Emma, this is most unwise. There is nothing we can do here.”

Emma ignored Father Eamon and carried on down the road. As she got closer, it became clear that the couple were a man and a woman. They were tight against each other and half-hidden by a doorway. The man was whispering in the ear of the woman and had one of his arms wrapped around her waist but there was something about it that made Emma very uncomfortable. She could see that the woman's face was twisted to one side, her eyes tightly closed.

Through the pounding rain, Emma could hear small sobs coming from her as she tried to edge backwards but had nowhere to go, trapped between the man and an unyielding wooden door. It was a grotesque parody of a loving couple.

“Please, you can have my bag. There's money in it. Just take it.”

There was desperation in her voice as she tried to bargain with her assailant and the man stepped back for a second, allowing Emma to get a good look at him. He was skinny, with short brown hair and pockmarked skin, but he ignored her pleas, instead forcing her further up against the door as his green and red leather jacket gave off a dull reflection of the streetlights.

Where the woman's coat was now open he groped her, eliciting more cries from his victim but he was oblivious to them, caught up in his own need for her. He pulled her blouse out of the waistband of her skirt before running his hand up inside it until he spasmed and groaned.

Emma found herself breathing hard as she watched, helpless. She ran up to the man and went to pull him off but her arms went through him, the agonising numbness returning with every attempt. In her desperation, the heat of Emma's tears mixed with the coolness of the rain drops on her cheeks.

There was nothing she could do no matter what she tried and it was only getting worse for the woman in the doorway. The man was running his hand down onto the hem of her skirt and his breath was coming in short, sharp gasps. She was trying to keep her legs together but he used his knee to force them apart.

“Please, don't.” The words were coming between sobs and the woman tried to use her hands to keep him from forcing her skirt up but he brushed them away before using his whole body to slam her back into the door.

“Stop struggling or I'm going to really hurt you.”

Emma looked around desperately for someone to help but there was no one, everybody having left for home. Father Eamon stood on the opposite side of the road, a dark look on his face. She looked at him, unable to understand why he didn't intervene. If he could use his will to bring a street light to life, then surely, he could stop this from occurring. Emma searched his face for some sort of acknowledgement of what was happening but she got nothing. She ran over to him, her temper bubbling up.

“Why don't you do something? Stop him, he's about to rape her!”

“I cannot, Emma.” Father Eamon's voice was strained and his breathing constricted.

“What do you mean you can't? Of course you can, you're Father Eamon! I've heard what people say. I've heard the stories! You've dealt with worse than this!”

“I understand Emma, but this is different. This is the world of the living. I cannot interfere here, no matter what I feel.”

A cry made Emma turn around; the woman was trying to push against the man's chest as he hurriedly undid the button fly on his jeans. She was resigned to what was going to happen and her breath came in deep gasps as she cried desperate sobs, realising that no one was going to help her.

Emma turned back to Father Eamon in one last appeal but she knew it was no good. She could see that he was struggling to control himself but knew, somehow, that he would win that struggle. She turned back to the pair to see the woman making one last hopeless attempt to stop the inevitable. Emma screamed at the man to stop but neither of them heard her. She was standing in the middle of a rain swept street, completely helpless in the face of everything unfolding in front of her and was reduced to screaming at the sky, knowing that she could do nothing but watch.

“Get off of her!”

Emma wanted to turn away but couldn't. Her temper was reaching boiling point as frustration at her own impotence and Father Eamon's reaction came to a head. She fell to her knees, soaked by the rain.

“FUCKING GET OFF HER!”

A heat haze rose around her, and the street lights flared before exploding one by one until darkness had taken hold, breaking the ardour of the man, who jumped backwards, covering his head as he was showered with broken glass. When it was over, he looked around, his eyes wide in shock, before doing himself up and running off down the street. The woman collapsed to the doorstep, pulling her coat around her like a child would a blanket, her right hand covering her face as she burst into tears.

Emma ran over to her, wanting to hold her tight but knew that it would be pointless. Instead she knelt down, hoping that her presence would somehow get through to the woman on the doorstep, whose arms were now clutched tightly around her waist as she rocked backwards and forwards, her long black hair soaked through and matted to her head.

“Emma we should leave, there is nothing we can do here.”

Emma rounded on Father Eamon, her eyes burning with accusation.

“Why didn't you do anything?”

“Emma, there was nothing I could do. I am bound by strict laws when in this world. He will face sanction for what he has done but I cannot intervene to stop him from carrying out his own will.”

“What kind of fucked up laws are those? You're supposed to be one of the good guys!”

The temperature began to rise again and Father Eamon's brow started to crease. Emma rested an arm on the woman's shoulder and a heat haze slowly drifted upwards.

The woman got up and headed unsteadily down the street, oblivious to Emma's constant presence. Father Eamon held back, watching as they moved towards Brushfield Street. The haze was still there, rising high into the air, only now it enveloped both of them.

When they reached Brushfield Street, the woman turned left and headed towards Liverpool Street Station. Emma went to follow but Father Eamon stopped her, gently placing an arm on her shoulder.

“You have to leave her, Emma, there is nothing you can do and it is getting dark back in our plane.”

“You should have done something.”

“What would you have had me do? I am not allowed to
interfere with any persons thoughts on this plane and it is impossible for me to physically intervene.”

Emma watched as the woman made her way north. She stayed silent, her anger still simmering just below the surface. Eventually the woman turned into Bishopsgate and was lost from sight.

“All these matters will balance themselves out in the fullness of time, Emma, I can assure you.”

“Not much comfort to her now though, is it?”

“No it isn't but there is nothing either of us can do about that.”

Emma continued the journey back in silence, unsure of how she felt towards Father Eamon but content for now to let her anger take precedence over anything else.

The journey to The Crown and Greyhound was only a two minute hop, but to Lisa the significance it held went beyond the familiar roads and junctions that Emma had to negotiate to get there. It marked a transition, an uneasy transition to be sure, but a transition all the same. A nervous mixture of anticipation and fear had left her feeling slightly giddy and talkative but the curt answers that she had received from Emma had put paid to that. She now knew that Taryn would be meeting them at the pub. This made Lisa feel a little nervous, as she knew this would mean that all the male eyes in the pub would be focused on them. It wasn't that Lisa resented this, but she had always found any kind of attention difficult, not being sure how to respond and never being able to work out whether a compliment was genuinely meant or if it was in some way meant to be a slight against her. It didn't help that her life was made hell at school and her teachers there seemed to take great joy in making her existence misery because she wasn't one of their favourites. Apparently you had to have the potential of a Nobel laureate if you were to have any worth in life, Lisa thought with a barely disguised contempt that put a scowl across her face. That combined with the fact that she didn't belong
to any of the social groups that had emerged within her year made her an easy target. She didn't fit in and she knew it, but whilst she knew that Emma and Taryn would not be happy at having her tag along tonight, she quietly hoped that being seen with them would help her cause at school. It was Friday night and she knew that there would be people in the pub who would see her there and hopefully mention it to their friends.

They turned into Dulwich Village and Lisa felt her heart catch in her mouth at the sprays of light given out by the wrought iron lamps on the wall of the pub. The pub itself was a two story building set back from the road, which allowed the landlord to place benches and tables out in front of it, not that they got a lot of use at this time of year. More importantly as far as Lisa was concerned, it was used as a regular starting point for everybody who would later head on to the Amber Lounge, a club a few miles away to the east of Bromley. For the life of her, Lisa could never understand why everybody went there, as there must be clubs closer but, for better or worse, that was where the popular crowd had settled on. Anyway it didn't matter to Lisa where the club was just as long as she could say that she had been there when she got back into school on Monday.

Emma slowly stewed as she drove the short distance to the pub. Any thoughts she had that Lisa might actually get through the night without embarrassing her had been blown away by the barrage of questions she had been subjected to after she had pulled away from their home. It was bad enough that she had been forced to take her but if she were going to carry on like a chattering child
the night would be unbearable. Fortunately a couple of monosyllabic answers had put paid to this and by the time they had arrived at the pub Lisa seemed to have realised that the fewer questions she asked the better, and besides Emma didn't want her messing up her chances with Pete.

She pulled into an empty spot on the kerbside opposite the pub. After a final look in the mirror, Emma turned to her sister and, for a second, thought she saw a look of fear cross her face.

“C'mon, we're here.”

Emma got out of the car and waited for Lisa to do the same before locking it and heading across the road. Her eyes scanned the people in front of her, looking for Taryn but she wasn't there. It wasn't as if she was going to be hard to miss, with her looks she was always either going to be the centre of attention or completely isolated if the boys, watching from a distance, hadn't had enough alcohol to get up the courage to approach her. Emma felt a twinge of envy pass through her at that thought.

The pub was the most impressive building in the village and the focal point of any Friday night. Its ground floor consisted of a series of large windows encased in a racing green wooden frame that lent it an air of old Victoriana, whilst the floors above were a typical red brick thirties build with sash windows and two large gables.

Great, no sign of her.

Emma reached the pubs main door and looked around to see Lisa just catching her up.

“Is Taryn here yet?”

Lisa's voice grated with Emma and it was all she could do not to show her younger sister how much.

“Well she's not outside is she?”

Lisa visibly cowed at Emma's response. “Sorry, all I did was ask.”

Emma felt a guilty surge run through her and softened a little as she saw her sister do her best to resemble a mouse.

“Look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. She's probably inside. Look, there's going to be someone here tonight, who I'm…well…what I'm saying is that if I look like I'm ignoring you, it's nothing personal, okay?”

For a second a look of confusion crossed Lisa's face but as soon as it was there, it was gone, replaced by an ingratiating smile that made Emma cringe.

“That's okay, I'll just stay in the background.”

A wave of heat washed over them as they walked through the doors to the main bar and Emma suddenly felt overdressed in her padded jacket. Taryn hove into view with a Bacardi and Coke in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

“Finally, I thought you were never going to turn up!”

A shock of brunette hair got Emma's attention just as Taryn tilted her head in a sly nod in the same direction. It belonged to a girl who was holding court just off to the rear of the main bar.

“I know, she's been here for about an hour now.”

Oh great,
thought Emma,
Victoria Mathers.

Lisa watched as Emma greeted Taryn and made small talk, she saw Taryn nod in the direction of a group of people standing by a glass and wood divider that separated the bar from a dining area at the back of the pub. She was content for the two of them to talk as she took in her new surroundings. To Emma it may have been the local but to Lisa it was a whole new world that was now unfolding itself in front of her young eyes. This area of the
pub was made up of wooden benches, which reminded her of church pews and tables that lined the walls. A bar jutted out on to the cold, tiled, floor in the same way a ships prow would jut out from a dock. She recognised some of the faces there as students in the years above her as well as some who had left the school. A series of jolts went through her as she saw faces of boys she had fancied from across the playground but who had never given her a second look.
Who knows?
Thought Lisa
maybe that will change tonight.

“Taryn, I've brought Lisa along.”

Hearing her name brought Lisa out of her reverie. “Hi.” It was all she could think of saying as she looked at Emma's best friend instantly wishing she had a fraction of her looks and poise. Lisa might not have known what it took to be cool but whatever it was, Taryn had it in spades. She had known her for years and had seen her around pretty much every weekend but that had always been when she was in baggy jeans and loose tops with her blonde hair tied in a ponytail. Now, for the first time, Lisa saw Taryn as everybody else saw her and she understood what all the fuss and comments were about. Taryn's body wasn't quite hourglass and it wasn't quite athletic, it fell somewhere in between but her height at just shy of six foot meant that she could easily pass for someone five or six years older than she actually was, particularly when she allowed her hair to frame her face. That combined with her high cheekbones and generous lips meant that she was loved and loathed in equal amounts by all the other students at the school.

“Oh, hi.” Taryn shot an uncertain look at Emma that Lisa pretended not to notice. She knew that she wasn't exactly going to be welcomed but the fact that she was
here at all was good enough for her. “Well, what do you guys want to drink?”

Before Lisa could answer, Emma spoke up. “I'll have the same and Lisa'll have a Coke.”

Lisa went to argue but a look from Emma told her it would do no good. “If you think I'm going to take you home stinking of booze, you've got another thought coming. D' you have any idea how much trouble I'd be in with mum and dad if they found out I'd let you drink?”

Lisa was sure that wasn't the reason behind Emma's blanket refusal to let her get a proper drink but there wasn't anything she could do about it as she was too young to buy anything from the bar. It was only eight fifteen and the night was starting to lose some of its sheen already.

As Taryn headed to the bar, a voice boomed across the pub. It was aimed at Emma.

“I see you brought your baby sister with you then!” Emma froze as she heard the words.
Of all the nights for that bitch to come in here, why tonight?
Emma groaned, she had heard on the grapevine that her father had got a promotion to partner at the legal practice he worked for in the city and it appeared that she couldn't wait to tell everybody about it.

There had always been competition between her and Victoria for as long as she could remember, in fact pretty much since they had met at play school and it was only in the last couple of years that Emma had managed to drag herself away from the constant one upmanship that had dogged her since those early days. It was just a pity that it had taken Victoria's father moving them to some ridiculously expensive part of Surrey for this to happen. Emma
had been forced to listen to Victoria's constant boasts about the house in the weeks leading up to her finally leaving the school. The only good thing had been the Victoria's Gone party that had been held when she had finally left. It had been very well attended. Emma was comforted to know that she wasn't the only one that couldn't stand the sight of the cow.

Now, she had returned to gloat about her father's promotion and all Emma could think about was leaving.

“What? Nothing to say for yourself, Elliott? How's your old man? Still languishing at the old firm?”

Emma knew better but the last comment was too much. Victoria's father had always been ambitious where Emma's had always been more concerned about making sure he was in a position to see his family at the end of the day and at weekends. It hadn't always worked out but Emma had always appreciated the fact that he had tried and she wasn't about to take any shit when it came to her parents, that having been said it did give her an opening for her riposte.

“He's doing fine thank you and yes I've brought Lisa out. At least I can bring my sister out with me. Remind me where's your sister these days? For that matter where's your mum?”

By now, they had become the focus of everybody's attention and Emma felt a pleasant feeling of satisfaction as she saw those in her field of view wince. Victoria's mum had left her dad for another man five years earlier and the scandal had been gossip fodder in the village and the school, with Victoria having to suffer the looks and comments, for months afterwards. What had made things worse was that Kelly, Victoria's older sister had chosen to go with her.