Revenge on the Mafia

Emma

EMMA - One year later.

"How was school today?" Frankie asked me as he drove me home. He looked tired. 

"Fine." 

"How was your maths test?" He quizzed. 

"I got 16 out of 20." I said, sadly. "But it was really hard. Sara only got 19 and she gets full marks on everything." I sighed. It wasn't the best score, even though I was trying. But it wasn't the worst, either.  

"How are things with Tom and his dad now?" Frankie asked me.

"Better. He's not grounded anymore but we're not allowed play together. He thinks I'm a bad influence." I confessed.

"He'll come round. I'll have a chat with him." He said, messing up my hair as I pulled away.

"Thanks, Frankie." I said, standing up straight again.

"He's not said he will change his mind yet!" He laughed, giving me a side hug.

We got to our house but Mum’s car wasn't in the driveway. I knew the routine if something went bad though.

“Where’s your Mum?” He asked, looking if I knew anything.

“Oh, Mum said she was might be late. She’s got a hair appointment.” I said, looking as bored as I could.

“Do you want me to wait with you?” Frankie asked. He was nice but was so nosey. I’m 15 and like some privacy. Especially when it came to family business.

“Na, it’s okay. I want to have a shower and should probably get my started on my essay about the human rights essay.”

Frankie looked at me, trying to work out what was really going on.

“Unless you want to help me write it? A right to life, freedom from t*****e, s*****y-“

“That essay sounds like torture.” He quipped.

“So are you going to help me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope. That’s your work.” He chuffed.

“See ya tomorrow.” I said, shutting the car door.

He waved and drove off as I went inside.

Mum’s phone went straight to voicemail. It never did that. She can't have reception, I thought. I looked at my messages. There was nothing from her. The last time was she online was an hour ago. I rang him on w******p but it just kept ringing and ringing. 

I didn’t want to be late for our training session, so I started dinner for us and waited for her to come home so we could leave as soon as she arrived.

By the time dinner was ready, I was starting to worry. When I finished making dinner, I tried calling Mum again for the 15th time but it kept going to voicemail. She said if she was ever late, to act like nothing was wrong but to go to the gym at the normal time. She was normally home before me but it’s now 5.30pm – an hour and a half after I came home and she still wasn’t here.

I set off for the gym to see if Mum was there. We normally left by 5.30 at the latest and she never failed to come home without phoning me to let me know.

She’s probably gone for a drink with the girls and lost track of time or something. I thought, not thinking of all the possible things that could have happened to her. All the things that happened to Dad before he disappeared. Trying my best not to let my thoughts go there. But my mind was working overtime trying not to do that.

I got on my bike and cycled to the gym.

Mick was there, on the punchbag.

“Hey Emma, the skipping rope’s waiting for your ten-minute warm up.” He said, glancing at me.

“Have you seen my Mum?.” I said, still holding out hope she was here somewhere.

Mick stopped and looked at me.

“I’ll phone her.” He said in a comforting voice.

“Hey Layla.” Mick said, my heart singing and instantly feeling better. “It’s Mick. I’m at the gym. Let me know when you get this.”

I realised he just left a message on his voicemail and it suddenly felt worse.

“Did it ring?” I asked.

Mick shook his head. “Went straight to voicemail. But I’m sure she’s fine.”

Mick said what I was ignoring. The only reason Mum would be missing is if she wasn’t fine. I felt my nose tingling, my neck tightening and a tear run down my cheek. It was so embarrassing crying in the middle of a gym. I tried to stop myself by looking up and scrunching my face but another one fell.

“Hey tiger, don’t cry.” Mick said, pulling me into a sweaty hug. “Come with me.”

I turned my face into his chest so no one could see me cry and he walked me to the office.

“Does she have the Find my Phone App?” He asked.

I sat straighter, trying to even out my staggered breathing.

“I.. I think so. Yes” I said.

He went on the computer and as he pulled up the web page I needed,- the gym phone rang.

“Hello?” Mick answered.

“It’s for you.” He said, after a few seconds, handing me the phone.

“Hello?” I asked as soon as I got the phone, impatiently awaiting a response.

“Emma. Listen carefully. Say ‘I haven’t heard from her.’ If you know who this is.” It was my Mum’s voice.

“I haven’t heard from her.” I said as evenly as I could.

 I listened as she continued.

“You are being followed. You need to have your session with Mick as usual. Then go home and pack a bag silently. Get the package from under the bath. Follow the instructions. Do not tell anyone – even Mick that you spoke to me. I love you Emma.” Then the line went dead.

A chill ran down my spine and I suddenly felt really cold.

“Who was that?” Mick asked.

“Just my friend asking if I’ve seen my Mum.” I lied.

“It’s OK. She probably went out and lost track of time.” Mick offered.

I nodded absentmindedly, knowing what my Mum said and feeling better for hearing her voice.

“Let me drive you home.” He insisted.

“No. It’s okay. I think a training session is just what I need to take my mind off it.” I said after wiping my face, standing up.

My legs felt like I had run a marathon but Mum had prepared me for all kinds of situations. I grabbed some water from my bag and felt ready to do what was needed.

“If that’s what you need, let’s get to it.” He said, putting his hand on my back.

We had a good session and I enjoyed releasing some of my pent-up anger and frustration.

I knew I probably had a long night ahead of me, but I just wanted to go home and see what I needed to do to see my Mum again.

I looked at my phone.

"Still nothing?" Mick asked.

"No." I said, trying to look like I was a little disappointed.

"Maybe she's at home now." He suggested.

I nodded.

"Let me drive you home."

"Thanks but I've got my bike outside. I want the fresh air."

"If you're sure." He said.

I nodded again and sighed, preparing myself for what awaited me as I got home.