The Pursuit of Emma by Dave Moyer (novels for teenagers .txt) 📖

on the stone steps. Was this the moment that I had been waiting for? Was this when I would finally find Emma?

No.

I knocked loudly twice and waited a good five minutes but no one answered. I approached the window and tried to look through but I couldn’t see anything. No one was home. I had felt so close to seeing her. Why wasn’t she here? I knew I just had to wait until tomorrow but it was getting increasingly hard. Weeks of torture were leading up to a moment which in itself would solve nothing. Yes, it would feel incredible to see her again but we were still in an unbelievable mess.

‘Tomorrow,’ I whispered and disappeared back into the taxi.

The taxi driver must have thought that Christmas had come early with the amount I had to hand over to him by the time I was home. The meter had been running solidly for well over an hour at this point at late night rates. I found it hard to care as I paid him handsomely, but I was a tad concerned at how fast Emma’s money was going. I better calm down a bit.

I knew that sleep was going to be optimistic but I wanted to be as rested as I could. Tomorrow would be, if all went well, a very important day indeed. Chapter Twenty

‘Think of this as a chance to prove your...talent.’

I woke early the next morning. The clock on my phone told me it was not yet seven. Plenty of time to prepare myself. I stretched and wriggled until there was sufficient life in my body to get out of bed. It was easier this morning. I think, for the first time, it felt like I had something to get out of bed for. Not just planning and hoping, but actually doing. The shower took its usual long-winded time to run warm, so I used that time to shave and brush my teeth. I noticed I was spending longer on it than usual. Subconsciously, I knew how significant this day was going to be.

My phone buzzed, indicating I had just received a text message. It was Jack and he was worried. I decided not to fill him in at this stage. I needed a clear head and did not want to discuss it anymore. I had been talking it over with myself all night. In the most relaxed manner possible I replied, ‘Everything fine here, will let you know when I know what I’m doing.’ With that, I jumped into the shower and finished off my morning routine.

What to wear? I wanted to look as good as possible. If Emma knew I was coming, she was probably worried about me. What if she had given away that I wasn’t a super-thief? I hoped not. No, she wouldn’t. If she did, there would be no reason for me to be kept alive and I would be shot as soon as I arrived. Well, I guess we would find out soon enough.

I chose my grey suit with the light pinstripes to wear. It probably fit me the best. Even I thought it looked quite good on and I hate looking at myself as a rule. It was tailored in to show off a man’s physique, which I wasn’t sure I was the best example of, but I certainly wasn’t carrying any extra weight due to the stress. The ‘slim-fit’ suit demonstrated that. I pulled out another crisp white shirt and decided against a tie. I wanted to look cool and sophisticated; the tie made me look like I was going for a job interview. There were several little touches which I added to complete my image. A handkerchief (which was folded and not to be used apparently), cufflinks and a tie-pin were all present as well as my expensive new watch. It looked good. I looked good.

The truth was, I was not only wearing the suit to convince the Kozlovs. I wanted to show Emma I had changed. I was capable of being a man that could deal with the world she really lived in. The new Tom was the right man for the old Emma.

Eventually there were no touches I could add and I was ready to go. It was still only nine o’clock but I could not afford to be late. I wanted to turn up in my own car to look important, but I didn’t think the ‘pimpmobile’ would be appropriate. I put a grand in my pocket and tucked the gun into my trousers, making sure the jacket covered it before I left. With that, I walked out and hailed a taxi after some effort. I was going to be early.

*****

It was only 9:45 when we approached Parlour Street and I asked the taxi driver to continue straight through the street and not stop. It allowed me the chance to give the building a once over first. There were no signs of... anything. I don’t know what I was expecting but I was relieved and disappointed to find it remarkably similar to the rest of the houses. He turned left and pulled up out of sight. I thanked him and paid him some cash. It was considerably cheaper than last night, although we had only gone one-way. I hoped I would be making a return journey.

I got out and straightened my suit. The sun was peeping out a little and I used this as an excuse to put on my new Ray-Bans. I thought it completed my intimidating look. The Kozlovs either believed they had made a mistake and I was a world-class actor, spending weeks pretending to be sad and pathetic, or they knew the truth and were laughing about it behind my back. I had to hope I had done enough last night to convince them. Confidence, Tom.

I walked slowly around the corner and was greeted with a blast of sunshine the buildings had previously been shielding me from. Parlour Street is a long one and it would take me five minutes to get to 14. I had timed it almost perfectly.

Even dragging my heels, I got there five minutes early and was given no choice but to persevere. I strolled confidently up the stone steps, like I had done the night before, and knocked loudly. There was a doorbell but I thought the aggressive nature of my thudding might announce my arrival better. Please somebody, open up this time. Somebody did.

The black door creaked open noisily before revealing my old friend, the Russian who had followed me around Victoria Station and ‘Raynmer and Stein’. He didn’t say anything to welcome me but neither did he shoot me so I didn’t feel too aggrieved. He glared down at me for a brief second before standing to one side and creating enough space for me to walk past him. I didn’t need a second invitation and I marched past him with as much swagger as I could muster.

The corridor was small and the only door that was open was the first on the right, so I walked through it. There were four men in there, two of which were Kozlovs (well, the other two could have been related but they looked much smaller and weaker). Igor stood up and welcomed me warmly, which seemed to unsettle me more.

‘Tom, come on in,’ he beamed and shook my hand firmly. I took off the Ray-Bans, tucked them into a pocket and nodded in response.

‘Please sit,’ he said and gestured that I should sit on one of the sofas. I sat. I scanned the room quickly as the man who answered the door returned and sat in silence. There were six of us in the room. Me, the two Kozlovs, two weak followers and the large doorman. But no Emma.

‘Where is she?’ I asked calmly, beginning to feel uneasy.

Vitali smiled and shrugged off the question.

‘She will be down in a minute.’ This didn’t feel right. Before I could blink, the doorman whipped out a gun and aimed it straight at my face. This was the first time in my life I'd had a gun pointed at me and it took all my strength to not pass out or wet myself. It was a trap and I had been stupid enough to fall for it.

‘Would you agree that it would be incredibly easy for us to kill you?’ Igor asked sarcastically, mimicking what I had said last night.

I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My weight was off balance and it would take me a couple of seconds to get off the sofa. By that time I would be dead. Even if I could avoid being shot the first time I would have to take out my gun, turn and shoot five men before they could kill me. Impossible. I was dead. They were waiting for me to respond.

‘It looks that way,’ I replied, not taking my eyes off the gun. I would not show them fear. If I was going to die, I would do it with as much dignity as possible.

‘Good, we are on the same wavelength,’ he waved his hand and the doorman lifted his gun, putting it back inside his jacket.

‘We are men of honour, like yourself. You could have killed us last night. We could have killed you right now. Yet, we are all still alive. Let’s keep it that way and work together. Don’t you agree?’

I was struggling to breathe. They weren’t going to kill me. I was alive!

‘That works for me,’ I said, regaining my composure. I was not enjoying this game of cat and mouse.

‘Right then,’ continued Vitali, staring at me carefully. ‘Let’s bring her in.’ I think he was impressed that I hadn’t reacted badly to staring death in the face.

The doorman (I really should learn his name) disappeared and headed up the staircase. Was he going to get Emma? This could be it. We all sat in silence and anticipation. It had been so long since I had seen her and for so long I had thought I never would again.

After an eternity, I heard footsteps. I could tell instantly that there were two different types. Someone walked with a heavy thud and another seemed to dance along, barely audible. That sounded like Emma’s walk! I couldn’t count the amount of times I'd heard her soft shuffle in the middle of the night as she disappeared to the toilet. She was coming!

The creaks moved to the staircase and I could count the steps as they descended. Eventually the creaking stopped and I knew they were here. They were on the ground floor. They had paused just out of sight. I could sense her presence there.

‘We have somebody we would like you to meet,’ said the deep Russian voice. Was that the first time I had heard him speak?

‘Oh don’t tell me it’s someone who is going to be replacing you,’ a voice said sarcastically. ‘Who will provide the witticisms?’ It was her. Oh my God, it was her. After everything I had been through, I had found Emma.

The doorman didn’t like being laughed at but was too slow to hit her with a comeback. I heard him mutter, ‘Get inside’ and it sounded like he shoved