A week later Emilia stands up on a grassy hill overlooking Primrose Hill park.
She takes a long drag from her cigarette, relishing the burn as the tobacco fills her lungs, and stares out at the twinkling lights of London city.
Tonight is colder than usual and the smell of gunpowder hangs heavy in the air, leftover from the recent fireworks display. The muffled voices of other bonfire attendees filter through the breeze along with the high pitched laughter of children.
Distracted, Emelia doesn't hear anyone approach until the cigarette is snatched from her hand.
'Hey!' She turns to glare at the culprit. A pretty face framed by goldish-blonde curls scowls back at her.
'These things are bad for you, you know,' her younger cousin Sofie says. 'They'll give you cancer. It says it on the pack.'
'Everything gives you cancer nowadays,' Emelia points out. 'Give it back.'
She holds out her hand but Sofie drops it to the ground and stomps on it instead.
'That's littering,' Emelia says and Sofie quickly picks the now-flattened cigarette back up.
'You didn't have to do that.'
'I'll find a bin,' Sofie says. 'I don't want some animal to eat it and get sick.'
Emelia's phone rings then. She pulls it out and glances down, already knowing who it's going to be. Reuben's name flashes across the screen.
Sofie moves closer, brushing up against Emelia's side.
'You're not going to answer that?' she asks curiously.
'Nope.' Emelia shoves the phone back into her jacket and knocks her cousin's hand away from where it's trying to pickpocket her packet of cigarettes.
Caught out, Sofie jumps back and giggles. The sound bright and welcome, and Emelia smiles.
How long has it been since they've hung out like this? Too long, that's for sure.
'Did you enjoy the fireworks?' she asks.
'Yeah.' Sofie grins, cheeks flushed from the chill. 'I did. Thanks for bringing me.'
'No problem,' Emelia says, guilt coming to the surface.
She will have to be sure to spend time with her cousin more often from now on, like they used to when they were younger. Today has been the nicest day she's had all week and Emelia finds herself wondering why she'd thought Sofie would snub her invitation to meet up.
Because you deserve it, the nasty little voice in her mind says. You're the one who pulled away, not her.
'I'm hungry,' Sofie says, drawing Emelia out of her own head. 'Let's get food!'
'What time did your mum say she wants you back home?' Emelia asks.
'Eleven-thirty.'
'OK, good, then we have time.'
Emelia links her arm with Sofie's and together they follow the path leading down the hill and out of the park.
Plenty of places are still open at this time in the evening, so it doesn't take them long to find a decent place to eat.
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Afterwards, they make their way to the train station by foot. Emelia would've usually preferred to get a cab but it felt good to walk along the sparsely populated streets, especially with company.
They take a shortcut through a housing estate to get to the station faster and, apart from the sounds of fireworks being set off in the distance, this area is has an extra layer of quiet.
No lights shine from any of the building windows; most of the flats here are empty, having been scheduled for demolition to make room for more modern developments.
The entryways and most of the lower level windows are boarded up with plywood to prevent squatters from moving in but Emelia doubts it'll be adequate.
Her attention is drawn away from the buildings when Sofie suddenly stops walking and stares intently across the street.
Emilia stops too, confused. 'What is it?'
She follows Sofie's gaze and spots three dark figures congregating in the shadows of one of the looming buildings, far outside the reach of any streetlights.
None of them are moving or talking, just standing like statues in the shadows, and and chill goes down Emelia's spine.
'Come on, Sof,' she says and tugs on her cousin's hand. 'We're going to miss the train.'
But then she realises that if they want to continue taking this shortcut, they will have to walk directly past the buildingand risk being spotted.
Emelia doesn't like the idea of potentially getting mugged or followed home. If there's one good thing her parents taught her it is to never trust anyone who is poorly dressed or hanging around late at night for no apparent reason.
It seems that Sofie has the same instinct. 'I think we should head back and go a different way.'
'Good thinking. Let's-'
The unexpected roar of an engine cuts through the air, startling them both. Headlights flash up ahead.
In a moment of unexplained panic Emelia yanks Sofie across the street and behind the wall of bushes on the other side of the footpath.
Sofie doesn't resist when Emelia pulls her down into a crouch but she's frowning.
'Emmy, what-' she starts to ask but then dark car comes speeding down the street, its tires screeching as it comes to a violent halt just a few feet away from where they had been standing.
Sofie's eyes widen and Emelia brings a finger to her own lips, signalling her to be quiet.
There's a moment where there's nothing but the sound of the idling engine, then the sound of a car door opening and closing. Next, there are soft footsteps. Multiple pairs.
'Good evening, Jacques,' someone says. Male and gravelly.
'Stanislav,' another person responds. Their voice is deeper but they sound younger, and have a slight accent. '
'You're late.'
'Traffic.'
'At this time of night?' the voice belonging to the man named Stanislav sounds a little disbelieving.
'You would be surprised,' the other man, Jacques, replies. And Emelia finally pins his accent. French.
There's a metallic clink and then the sound of a lighter striking. The familiar scent of tobacco fills the air seconds later.
'Hm, this week has been full of surprises,' Stanislav says. 'Finding out that you were in London was one of them. Are you enjoying your visit so far?'
Unable to resist the rising curiosity, Emelia pushes up on her knees and peeks through a thin gap in the bush.
Through the the leaves and branches she can just about make out the scene in front of them.
The man Emelia assumes is Stanislav is darkly dressed and has a cigarette hanging from his lips, the end burning bright as he takes a drag. He flicks the ash on the ground.
Then Emelia notices that he's not alone. There are three other men, all wearing similar attire of long dark jackets, standing silently behind him.
Look who's trying to be Keanu Reeves from the Matrix.
Then there's the man who must be Jacques. Emelia can't make out much of his appearance from this point of view other than he's got brown skin, cropped hair, and is leaning against the front of his car with his hands in the pockets of his trousers. His shoulders rise in a subtle shrug.
'It's not comparable home,' he says. 'But I admit I' biased. Would you like to ask me about the weather next, or would you like to get to the point where you tell me why we're having this meeting?'
'You're impatient,' Stanislav remarks.
'I have better places to be than here.'
'And what about your precious prince? Did he have better places to be also or was he just too much of a coward to show up tonight?'
Stanislav turns his head, eyes scanning the street, and Emelia holds her breath. But the bush provides ample cover and they remain unnoticed.
'I'm sorry to disappoint you but you're the last person he would ever be afraid of,' Jacques replies.
'Oh, really?' Stanislav's voice now carries a hint of mocking. 'Then please tell me, where is your prince? Is he hiding? Choosing to be like the cockroach he is?'
He says that last part a little louder like he wants someone else besides Jacques to hear.
What the hell are these people talking about?
Sofie taps on her shoulder and and leans in close. Her breath is warm on the inside of Emelia's ear as she whispers, 'There's someone on top of that tower block.'
Emilia frowns and glances at her, before looking up to see for herself.
Sure enough, outlined by the dim moonlight above the building opposite, is the undoubtable figure of a person.
What the…
The figure shifts, sways forward, and an awful thought enters Emelia's mind. They're going to jump.
And then they do.