Together Forever

Twelve

Prologue

The numbness to which she had succumbed over the previous three days had begun to recede and her senses were quickly returning to her, painfully dragging her back to reality.

At first, she became aware of a headache, and then, unfamiliar sounds and smells. Finally, the details of the room in which she found herself slowly came into focus. Instead of the modern comfortable home of her parents in which she had spent the entire thirteen years of her life, she found herself in an old, sparsely-furnished house. A dull yellow light bulb barely penetrated its shadowy corners, intensifying the sensation of suffocation which had overcome her from the moment she had first set foot in it.

She heard a dreamlike voice and instinctively turned around to see the worried face of the old lady.

It's cold outside. It will start raining soon.

Despite the well-intentioned advice, Emma went outside into the cold, wet evening air. She hurriedly descended the steps in front of the house, took a few brisk paces, and suddenly came to a halt, not really knowing where to go from there.

She would have liked to get as far away as possible from that house, not least from her grandparents, who still seemed like strangers to her, but she did not because she would have risked meeting other people, something which in general she preferred to avoid, particularly on a day like that.

She decided to study her new universe from the steps of the house, even though they were not spared from the thick drizzle. The light filtering down through the swirling clouds shone on the polished cube-like cobblestones carefully arranged on the small square which the house shared with the other houses in the neighborhood.

She found herself gazing over the square, which was surrounded by six two-story houses with very old doors, each with a few stone steps leading up to them. The wooden shutters of the windows of varying colors were weathered and cracked by the years of wind and rain. In the spaces between the houses there was a warren of alleyways which converged as they led to the square.

She began to feel a calm descend upon her as she studied the peacefulness which enveloped the village. She started to breathe with relief in a way she had not since the funeral had come to an end, when she had been torn apart by a multitude of contradictory feelings. On one hand, she could not get to grips with the idea that her parents no longer existed and nor did she want to conform to a specific grieving ritual. But on the other hand, during the ceremony, a panic had set in, catapulting her crying and screaming towards that gaping hole dug into the ground. As the two coffins were lowered into that black soil, unseen hands tried to pull her back, forbidding her to lie down next to them - the parents without whom she believed she could no longer live.

Now, far from her parents’ home, reality started to form like the pieces of a puzzle, each one a cold droplet which rolled down her cheek pulling her mercilessly towards the present. It was the first time she had stood exposed to the rain, just as it was the first time that she felt a sense of trepidation due to the lack of security of not having her parents to protect her - parental protection that had always appeared in her life, even in the form of an umbrella. How could she survive without her parents? In whose arms would she nestle for a reassuring embrace? With whom would she share her happiness? To whom would she disclose her wishes?

Confused by these black thoughts which had started to overwhelm her, she looked accusingly at the dark sky, becoming more and more convinced that God did not exist. Because if He did, how could He have left her alone in this world?

Hidden in the cold embrace of the night, Emma Bisset finally accepted the truth and let her emotions flow freely through her body, mind and heart. But as she freed the tears and sobs she failed to realize that she was not in fact alone.

*

Lucas was observing her carefully from the seclusion of the corner of one of the houses. He had been on his way home from school when he had first seen her there. Normally he would not have given her a second look, especially as the rain showed no sign of letting up, but he had heard so much about her. He had found out from his colleagues that very morning that a thirteen-year-old girl had arrived in the village, one whose parents had recently died and who had been left in the care of her grandparents, Sophie and Enzo. He had known the old folks for a long time, but he had had no idea that they had a granddaughter. She had never visited them nor had they ever mentioned her.

Although it was only around fifteen degrees Celsius outside, the girl was dressed in a thin burgundy dress and was wearing beige sandals. Her appearance contrasted very strangely with the mediaeval walls of the houses, like a splash of color in a black and white photograph, and the boy could not take his eyes off her.

The girl lifted her eyelids revealing the most beautiful shade of blue which Lucas had ever seen but in those same eyes he discovered a sadness which was extremely familiar to him. The body of the girl began to shudder gently and he knew that the rain which had been intensifying for some time was hiding the torrent of tears which were flowing down her pale face.

He would have liked to approach her, to hold her in his arms and to tell her that everything would be ok, but he understood that she wanted, and indeed needed, to be alone. That is exactly what he had felt not two years earlier when he had lost his sick father to cancer. When he had received the news in the corridor of the hospital, he had believed that he would remain forever a prisoner of the same intolerable pain. The loss of a parent had been just as difficult to accept for the boy, but that poor child had lost both parents. The rumors said that they had died on the spot following a car accident and now, just a few days later, the young girl was to be found sitting on the steps of that village house in the care of grandparents whom she had probably never seen before.

Lucas knew the stillness that engulfed the girl was not one of resignation. He could only imagine what was happening in her soul knowing that she would now have to live in this village in the south of France, no longer feeling her mother's affection, no longer receiving her father's advice, no longer enjoying the protection offered by a family.

The door of the house opened and her grandmother Sophie appeared on the threshold. She was holding a raincoat in her hands which she placed tenderly on the shoulders of the young girl, carefully helping her to rise to her feet. The girl, her head still lowered, obediently allowed her grandmother to lead her into the house.

Lucas tried to see something through the curtains obscuring the window but he could see nothing other than the glow of the bulb which shone weakly behind them.

The rain had soaked him to the skin and he had become so cold that he started to run towards his house, unable to clear his mind of that desolate image.

As he pushed through the cold driving rain, the desire he felt to soothe the young girl’s pain grew and grew. He promised himself that he would take care of her as if she were his little sister, he would become her friend and defend her from everything bad in that world, although he could not for the moment think of anything worse than the loss of both parents.

Chapter One

The cold autumn rains had passed, yet the narrow streets of the village were already feeling the merciless touch of the northerly winds which announced the coming of a long, hard winter.

Carennac was home to around three hundred and eighty residents and was considered one of the most beautiful villages in France. Situated in the south-west of the country in the Dordogne Valley, the tiny mediaeval village was a labyrinth of narrow streets bounded by ancient stone houses untouched by the passing of time. Moreover, the whole of the Lot region was one of outstanding natural beauty, dotted with picturesque villages, rivers, endless vineyards and ravines. These rural treasures attracted hundreds of tourists each year.

It's a wonderful place to visit, but not live in, was a favorite saying of Lucas’s, who had forever dreamt of leaving for a bigger city with many more opportunities. He would have liked to have done this at the beginning of High School, but the death of his father had forced him postpone this dream. But only for a short time, or so he hoped.

His mother had fallen into a deep depression almost immediately after the funeral. It had initially appeared that she was managing to contain her anguish. She had coordinated the entire event with an unusual icy calm, without shedding a tear. Although she had appeared outwardly calm at first, her eyes sallow with grief as the coffin was lowered into the ground and covered with soil, she headed home and collapsed on her bed and remained there for two days refusing to eat, to talk, or to cry. After that, step by step, she started to leave the bedroom, but still refused to speak. Lucas had no idea if she was eating; maybe only when he was at school when he imagined that she would allow herself to cry without him or anyone else seeing.

As a result, the boy took over the household chores, which he would do after finishing his classes. Consequently, he had found little time to spend in the village with his friends.

*

That day he had just set off towards the football pitch. Unusually for him, he was running late, but only because his physics teacher had insisted on explaining the phenomenon of reflection and refraction of light once again.

Shivering from the cold, he had just hurried past a wooden bench hidden in an alcove of one of the houses when he spotted Emma out of the corner of his eye. She was watching him unflinchingly with her big blue eyes.

He backpedalled three paces until he was standing right in front of her. She smiled at him timidly and rapidly closed a diary in which she had been taking some notes.

Two months had passed since she had arrived in their village and they had befriended one another sufficiently to greet each other on sight and to exchange a few words from time to time.

Emma, what are you doing here in this freezing weather? asked a surprised Lucas, pulling his coat up around his ears.

Freezing weather? It's hardly a breeze, replied the girl as seriously as she could.

This breeze could carry you away! Why aren't you at home? You'll catch a cold.

You're the one who’s always cold. You should be home in the warm.

I'm off to play football. That’ll warm me up.

Do you guys have a heater on the pitch then?

Haha! I see you’re on the ball today. What were you writing just now? he asked, waggling a finger towards the blue notebook whilst taking a seat next to her on the bench.

Emma did not respond but she grimaced slightly and quietly looked down at her feet. Although he was curious by nature, Lucas understood that it was best not to insist.

Come on, come to the match if you're not cold.

Hmm...I don't really know how to play football.

That doesn't matter today. We’re just messing around to forget the cold weather. Come on!

He tried to encourage her by jumping up off the bench and offering her his hand.

I’ll just get in your way.

Lucas stood there with his hand out, putting on a petulant expression like a child who had not received any candies for Christmas.

The girl hesitated for a few seconds, then, with an embarrassed glance in his direction, took his frozen hand and pulled herself up off the bench. Releasing her grasp quickly, she stuffed her hands into her pocket. He did the same. They walked silently side by side along the desolate side streets, cudgeled by the persistent icy gusts.

On the pitch, six boys of Lucas’s age were passing the ball, jumping and running to warm themselves up.

Lucas, at last you honor us with your presence? asked a plump boy.

You are lucky I'm here ‘cause the physics teacher could have held us back another five hours. This is Emma, he continued, making a brief gesture in her direction. She'll help us make up the teams.

You what? You brought a girl on the pitch?

You want her to play football with us? You’ve got to be kidding, said another boy.

Come on, guys, it's not the World Cup. Today we can make an exception. Let’s get running a bit to warm ourselves up. If we kick the ball from time to time, all the better. It's Friday night. You got a better idea?

Emma waited silently for the boys to come to a decision. Their reaction had made her feel so stupid that she was tempted to flee, but she knew that if she had, she would no longer have been able to look Lucas in the eye.

Meanwhile, the boys stood there looking somewhat ashamed, nervously kicking at the rough muddy pitch, ripping up clods of grass. They all knew the girl’s story and eventually resigned themselves to accepting her presence on the pitch.

Lucas quickly organized them into two teams based on the colors of their jackets. He pointed out the goals to Emma and briefly explained the rules.

He let her have the honor of the first kick. She took a short run up and kicked the ball powerfully in the direction of the goal in which he had told her she was supposed to score. The ball clattered violently against the bar. There followed a moment of surprised silence whilst the ball came to rest on the frozen soil, then Marc, who was between the posts, took the ball and passed it to one of his teammates. Emma set off hot on his heels trying to steal the ball back with some success on a couple of occasions, much to the surprise of the boys, who had forgotten all about the penetrating wind and the fact that she was a girl. They were up against a true adversary with a powerful shot, and one who could run faster than them.

Emma was skinny and a head shorter than the boys. She had a strange haircut, coming just below the jawline and with an untidy fringe that covered her eyebrows. Since she had arrived in the village, she had only worn men's shirts and trousers, always a couple of sizes too big for her, with overlong sleeves. If it had not been for her sweet, delicate face, nobody would have suspected that she was a girl.

The match ended in a draw but Emma, although she had not managed to score, had come close more than once. From their reaction it was clear that the boys were rather impressed, although naturally they would never admit it. This gave a small boost to the girl’s confidence.

Lucas offered to walk her home. It was getting dark and the cold and the biting wind had picked up considerably. As they walked together toward her house, Lucas noticed how the girl would kick out at the leaves carried by the wind.

Everything’ll be fine, you'll see! said Lucas out of the blue, remembering that equally cold and desolate night when he had seen her for the first time.

Emma looked him in the eyes briefly, then glanced away, visibly irritated by the uncalled-for encouragement.

Lucas realized that he had crossed the line. He knew her well enough to understand that she did not like to talk about her past. However, it was the first time she had ever looked him in the eye.

*

Her grandparents’ house was ancient and built of stone, just like the others in the village, and the square which it overlooked was not one of particular interest to tourists. It was a quiet neighborhood and free of pollution, particularly as access for cars was not only forbidden, but also impossible.

Her grandparents had barely invested anything in the house, even though they had owned it their entire lives. Neither inside nor outside the house were any touches of modernity to be found, a fact which helped it retain a certain ageless charm. The tiny