Isabella's Heiress (26 page)

They passed birch trees stripped bare of their leaves by the strong autumnal wind. Small brown and gold piles sat at the base of slender white trunks as Emma watched people go about their business, keen to get out of the biting chill.

Emma was still thinking about the earlier meeting with Ambrosia and felt a rush of blood to her cheeks whenever she pictured her in her mind.

“Ah, this will do.”

They had arrived at a row of shops. Along with the
village shop, estate agents and opticians were a mixture of delicatessen, chocolatier, thrift and cake shops, all looking out on a line of parked cars that ran the length of the road.

A woman was getting out of a hatchback with a bag in one hand and a purse in the other. She locked the door, pulling at the handle to make sure, and headed towards the delicatessen.

“Watch this, Emma.”

Father Eamon looked at the woman for the briefest of moments but in that time, she stopped and turned back to her car, she seemed to be confused and raised her hand towards it. In it was the key fob she had used to lock it only seconds earlier. The cars hazard lights flashed and there was a clunking noise as the locks on the doors disengaged. The lights flashed a second time as the woman pushed the fob again, causing the locks to return to their original state. Satisfied, she turned back to the shops and continued on her way.

“Did you see what I did?”

“No, not really.”

“I planted a suggestion in her mind. I made her doubt what she had done barely ten seconds before. I did it by channelling an idea to her and blocking out any other thoughts that might intrude.”

Emma wasn't convinced as she watched the woman walk into the post office, none the wiser to her previous actions. “So it's as easy as that, huh?”

“Try it, find out for yourself. “

Emma looked around for a guinea pig, uneasy with what was being asked of her. “And this won't cause any pain or damage?”

“Absolutely none. They have no idea that you have done anything; all they feel is a moment of doubt.”

Emma wasn't totally sure about this but carried on
looking. She settled on a woman leaving the estate agent. Hanging off her left arm was a handbag which she placed her purse in as she walked out onto the pavement.

Emma concentrated on the woman, trying to block out all her other thoughts.
Are you sure you've placed your purse in your handbag?
She repeated this thought time and again and for a second it seemed like she would stop but a picture of her parents' house intruded in her mind and the effect was lost as the woman carried on down the street.

“Bollocks!”

“Never mind, try again but make sure you keep your mind blank.”

“Says the man, who hasn't been human for years.”

“That may be but I was at one point and I had to learn all this as well.”

Emma looked for someone else to try it on and saw a man walking a Schnauzer. He wore a cord jacket and grey scarf over a jumper and shirt and held loosely onto the dogs lead.
Are you sure the lead is attached to the dog's collar? Are you absolutely certain?
Again she repeated this message as she concentrated on him.

The man looked quizzically at the dog before yanking hard on the lead, causing it to jump in the air and give out a plaintive yelp. Emma was mortified and instantly the link between her and the dog walker turned strangler was dropped.

The look on Emma's face was matched by the man who now dropped to his knees and stroked the dog whilst apologising profusely. The dog for its part was in no mood to accept the attention now lavished on it and looked indignant as it turned away.

“I thought you said that no harm would come to them.”

“And no harm will come to them but you have to be
specific in what you say and do. What did you put in his mind?”

Emma repeated what she had tried to channel to the man.

“That's good but you should have told him how to check. It's no good implanting a suggestion if you do not tell someone how you want it done.”

“You think it might not have been a good idea to mention that before I got someone to strangle his dog?”

“My apologies, I was hoping I wouldn't have to. Would you like to try again?”

Emma winced at the riposte. She looked around for another potential candidate, although by now she was starting to look on them more as victims. She settled on a couple putting plastic shopping bags in the back of an estate. As the woman headed towards the front of the car, Emma turned her attention to the man now placing the last of the bags into the boot.
Are you sure you've got your car keys? Are you really sure? Why don't you check through the bags just in case?

After she had been repeating it for ten seconds or so, the man stopped what he was doing and patted down his pockets as a look of panic came over him. When he had done that he started to pull maniacally at the bags he had just placed in the boot. One after another, he systematically tore the bags to shreds as he hunted for his keys. The woman turned to see what he was doing and stood open mouthed as her partner ransacked the car.

“Well, you seem to have got the hang of that.” Father Eamon grimaced as he looked over at the man who had now stopped his rampage and looked at the car with an expression of stunned bewilderment on his face. He then turned his attention to the woman who said something to
him as they started to clean up the mess he had created. Emma couldn't hear what it was but her expression said more than words ever could. “'Tis time we went to your parents.”

Emma felt her stomach start to churn. The wind had whipped up again and the leaves were now skittering along the pavement as they headed back the way they had come. Emma kept herself occupied by trying to influence people they passed so that by the time they arrived outside the house, she had managed to get three people to retie their shoelaces, two people to double check they had locked their cars and in one unfortunate case a man to dance back across the road after he had just crossed from the other side.

But now they stood outside her parents' front door and Emma knew that she was on her own from here on in. She left Father Eamon at the front gate and headed towards the door, where she waited for it to dissipate into the watery haze that would allow her entry. When it did so, she caught her breath as she saw her sister standing immediately next to the telephone on the other side. Emma stepped through into the hall and walked slowly around Samantha, who looked like she was trying to make up her mind about something.

“It's all right dear. Dad's fine. He just needed to catch his breath.”

Emma turned to see her mother walking slowly downstairs. She was pale and seemed to have lost weight since she had last seen her. As she reached the last stair, Samantha collapsed in floods of tears.

“Why us, mum? Why have we had to go through this? First Lisa, then Emma and now dad?”

“I know, dear, it's not fair but we have to be strong for your father's sake.”

Emma wanted to tell them how sorry she was for all the pain she had caused but had to settle instead for looking on as her mother drew her sister into a tight hug muffling her anguished sobs.

After a couple of minutes Samantha regained her composure. Wiping tears from her eyes, she sniffed back a final choked sob. “Sorry, mum.”

“Oh, don't be silly, dear.”

“How is he?” There was a note of trepidation in Samantha's voice as she asked and it wasn't clear to Emma whether she really wanted to know.

“He's comfortable. He's sleeping now.”

This was the cue for the tears to start flowing down Samantha's cheeks again as she descended back into her grief. Her mother walked her into the kitchen and put the kettle on as Emma followed on behind them. Samantha sat there weeping silently into a handkerchief as her mother brought over a cup of coffee. She sipped from the mug without moving her gaze from the wall in front of her, only pausing to place it back on the mat.

“How is work, dear?”

Samantha just shrugged her shoulders in response.

“Did you finish that commission? Wasn't that man picking it up this week?”

“He picks it up on Monday.”

Emma always hated this, she felt like she was intruding even though she knew that, if she was alive, she would probably have been sitting at the table with them now. But she wasn't, she was watching this scene without her mum or sister knowing which wasn't a nice feeling.

After a while Samantha left the table and headed over to the work surface where she retrieved a biscuit from a green and white striped barrel. For a second Emma's hopes rose as she thought that Samantha might be heading outside
but they fell as she turned back towards the table.

Don't you want to see Emma's bedroom? How long has it been? Aren't you curious to see if anything's changed?

Emma repeated this as Samantha sat back down but it didn't seem to make any difference. She felt like hitting something but resisted the urge not wanting to find her fist on the other side of the kitchen wall. Instead she reconstituted her efforts and repeated her message. Again nothing happened but then Samantha seemed to pause as she took another sip from her mug.

“Mum, I'm just going upstairs for a second.”

“Okay, dear, but try not to disturb your father.”

Emma's heart jumped as she watched her sister get up from the table and head out of the kitchen. She followed at a distance and went up the stairs behind her. When she got to the landing, Samantha paused in front of the bedroom door, looking over at her father's room just as Emma had done before.

For a worrying second, Emma thought that she might not go in after all but as she considered planting another thought in Samantha's head, she placed her hand on the door handle and gently turned it, careful not to make any noise. The door opened, grating against the frame and Samantha froze, looking over her shoulder to see if her mother had heard but there was no movement from downstairs and she waited for the door to swing all the way open before heading inside.

Emma hung back willing Samantha on, watching as her sister stepped across the threshold into a room she hadn't been in for years. Samantha stopped after only a few steps and Emma heard her let out a soft gasp as she looked around. Emma thought of the last time they had been in there together with the recriminations and accusations flying and tried to ignore the wave of guilt that hit her.

“Sorry, Sam. I know I let you and Lisa down. I am so sorry.”

Samantha stood in the room, taking in the bed, the pictures on the wall and the dressing table. As she breathed in the scented air, Emma moved onto the next part of her plan.

Do you remember how you used to borrow my tops? Aren't you curious to see if they are still there? Why don't you try the top drawer and see if they still fit?

Emma was caught up in a mixture of hope and self-loathing as she looked intently at Samantha, trying to manipulate her sister. Again nothing happened at first but then Samantha turned to the dressing table as Emma caught her breath.

One after the other she looked through the drawers, gently sifting through jeans and blouses until she reached the top. The drawer resisted her attempts to open it and Samantha stepped away as a scowl crossed her face. She seemed to be thinking what to do next and it felt to Emma like she would never breathe again as she waited to see what would happen.

Samantha tried the drawer again but it was only a token effort and she stopped trying almost as soon as she had started. She stood there looking at the dressing table until after a few seconds her eyes started to scan its top.

It's in the jewellery box, Sam. It's in the jewellery box.

Samantha's eyes moved along the dressing table, pausing for a second on the jewellery tree, until they settled on the box. Emma thought she would explode as Samantha opened it and started to rummage through the contents. It must have taken only a few seconds but to Emma it seemed like an eternity until Samantha withdrew a small key and placed it in the lock in the middle of the drawer.

She turned the key and after a little jiggling, it rotated
with a click and the drawer came free. Emma could barely watch as Samantha worked through the pile of pastel coloured jumpers neatly piled on top of each other. As she worked her way down, Emma felt her heart quicken until Samantha reached the bottom and paused. For a second she did nothing but then she placed her free hand in the drawer and pulled out an A5 envelope with the word dad written on it.

“Yes!” Emma was ecstatic, it was all falling into place and everything was going to be fine. For the first time since she had started out on this journey, she felt some genuine optimism. Now all Samantha had to do was read it and pass it onto her mother.

Samantha seemed unsure what to do next. She rubbed her fingers across the writing but didn't open it. Emma watched, sure that it would only be a matter of time before Samantha did the right thing but instead she just stood there, her eyes transfixed on the envelope now in her hands.

“C'mon Sam, just open it. You don't even have to do that, give it to mum.”

Samantha was frozen to the spot and Emma started to worry that she might not even open it.

Aren't you curious as to what it says? Don't you want to read it? C'mon Sam, dads dying, it's not fair to hide it from him!

Samantha's trance was broken. Instead of opening it, she folded the letter and placed it in her pocket before turning towards the bedroom door.

Emma barely had a chance to get out of the way as Samantha closed the door behind her.

“You're supposed to read it you silly cow, not put it in your pocket!”

Emma went from elation to despair as Samantha
passed her and headed down the stairs. She chased after her, hoping that she would tell her mother about what she had just found but instead she reached for her coat, hanging on a hook by the front door.