Episode Six - 'God Rest ye Merry Gentlemen'

“And a big shout goes out to the Minsbury Grammar School for Girls who are in the house tonight, largeing it with the boys from Trumpton Comprehensive! Respect to the Trumpton Massive! Nice one! Keep it real, keep it on-line, and keep it crucial as we keep it slamming up here on the dance floor with our next record: Super Trooper by those Swedish Kings and Queens of pop, the magnificent Abba!”

“I do wish he wouldn’t talk over the records like that,” said sixteen year old Elenor Haines as she sipped her low calorie can of Panda Cola. Elenor squinted at the DJ booth. “Why does their DJ look so old?”

“Because he is old: he’s 41. That’s Mr Grant, the physics teacher. He’s got a big record collection and he organises the Trumpton school Christmas disco every year.” Sarah Bates stood close to Elenor and tried to match her disapproving look. Elenor seemed to have very educated views on what was cool and what wasn’t, and Sarah had found that agreeing with Elenor was the best way to seem mature and grown up.

“Spare me…” Elenor leaned against the wall and tried to look very bored and sophisticated. To her adolescent mind the two traits seemed inseparable.

“And for all the boys out there let me tell you that in just twenty minutes time we’re going to have a montage of truly crucial heavy metal tunes to get you up on the dance floor with those lovely girls from Minsbury Grammar School. We’re talking 2-4-6-8 Motorway by Mr Tom Robinson and More Than a Feeling by those Imperial Czars of serious adult orientated rock, Boston. Expect Eye of the Tiger by Survivor, and the Final Countdown by Europe, and if that doesn’t get your denim twitching, there just could be a killer cut by the Status Quo to close.”

“This has got to be the worst school disco I’ve ever been to, and that’s saying something. Remind me again, why are we here?”

“Dur… because there’s boys? That was the plan, wasn’t it?” Living in the small rural village of Minsbury, and going to an all girls school made it very difficult to meet boys at any time. The annual Fifth form get together with the all boys school in neighbouring Trumpton was rumoured to be one of the high points of the social calendar.

“Oh yes. I forgot.” Elenor regarded the long line of boys skulking on the edge of the dance floor with a degree of suspicion. “Is it just me, or do some of those boys look retarded? This isn’t a special needs school, is it?” The boys looked even more nervous than the girls. A few brave souls had overcome the fear of approaching the opposite sex that was born out of an old fashioned single sex education where normal day to day contact was carefully regulated.

“Feel those Swedish grooves wash over your dancing feet! And if you happen to be a young teenage boy from Trumpton Comprehensive, and you’re hanging back at the side of the dance floor thinking, golly it looks good out there, then my advice to you young lad is walk right up to one of those lovely girls from Minsbury Grammar school and ask them to dance. Because frankly if you don’t dance tonight it would be a Tragedy. And even if you do dance tonight it will still be Tragedy because that’s our next record: Tragedy by the Bee Gees!”

“He’s reading those lines from a script! I can’t believe it…”

“Everybody in the house say ‘house!’ All right… yes, we’re having a great time tonight, here at the Trumpton Comprehensive Christmas Night Out. Just a reminder while you’re dancing that the school fete is only three weeks away now, and we still need any old books, clothes, bric-a-brac, CDs and toys that you and your Mums no longer have any use for. All proceeds go to buying a new set of monkey bars for the gym. But enough of that, because the fun doesn’t stop tonight, well not until 10.30 anyway when the school buses will be waiting to drive you all home. I’ve got a question for you all out there! Who’s going to join me and Boney M for a swim in the Rivers of Babylon!”

Christmas at the Haines household, 1990

"This isn't Christmas, it's purgatory!" shouted 17 year old Elizabeth Haines as she slammed the living room door violently shut in a fit of temper. Elenor watched her older sister storm down the hall and push over the family coat rack. It fell to the floor in a flurry of raincoats. Elenor sat on the steps of the stair case and bit her lip. Elizabeth was prone to foul moods and had been known to hit her younger sister when she felt like this.

"What are you staring at?" shouted Elizabeth. It was Christmas Eve in the Haines household and in just a couple of hours the family would be taking a car to their Uncle’s extravagant house to spend the festive season together in idle luxury. Elenor looked forward to this every year but her older sister didn’t feel quite the same way.

"Nothing…" Elenor looked down at her feet. The Christmas arguments had begun already. As she tried to turn invisible, the door suddenly opened and Elenor's father stood in the doorway. Peter Haines was dressed in his best navy blue suit and starched white shirt and had been about to fasten a tie around his neck when the row with his eldest daughter had broken out.

"I will not have you slamming doors in this house, Elizabeth! I'm confiscating your phone over Christmas to teach you some manners!"

"You can't do that!"

"Just watch me, young lady. No phone until after Boxing Day." And that was the end of the subject as far as Peter Haines was concerned. He returned to the living room where a special edition of Songs of Praise from Canterbury Cathedral was playing on the TV.

"What's wrong?" asked Elenor quietly.

Elizabeth regarded her younger sister with exasperation. “Father insists I have to wear this stupid dress tonight. I hate wearing dresses and skirts. He won't let me wear my leather trousers. Why do we always have to dress up like this at Christmas? No one else does." Elizabeth was wearing an old fashioned one piece sleeveless dress of dark blue cotton, flesh coloured tights and shiny black shoes. "He is such a fuckwit about Christmas. I can't wait until I finish school. Chris and I are going to study art in London and then I'll be free of this cloying environment."

"I think you look nice…" whispered Elenor. Elizabeth was pretty but usually in a Tom boyish kind of way. Her hair was naturally curly, unlike Elenor’s straight blonde cut.

"Well what do you know. You're only thirteen. And now he's taken my mobile phone! Chris won't be able to ring me until I get back. I am so pissed off. Did someone just decide that Christmas has to be an exercise in annoying people?"

"I've been looking forward to Christmas."

"Well you would. You'll have our Uncle fussing over you as usual. Anyone would think you're his own daughter, the way he fawns over you all the time. I can't believe I'm going to spend three days surrounded by immature children and bloody father. I'm going to start breaking things if I don't get my phone back."

"But it's Christmas."

"I hate Christmas. It's stupid! You're stupid! Everyone in this house is stupid! When I'm in London I'm going to burn all my dresses and cut my hair really short. Chris and I are going to create conceptual art and we'll live in an attic flat and drink wine in fashionable cafes. We're going to be subversive art terrorists, out to redefine the very boundaries of creative expression. We'll mix Voltaire with Baudelaire and Gaughan with Van Damme. And I'll never come back to Minsbury ever again. I'm going to cut up this stupid blue dress and post it back home in pieces." Elizabeth pushed past Elenor and climbed the stairs. "You're going to be so proud of me one day, Elenor. People will ask you whether you're Elizabeth Haines’s sister. That’s how famous I’m going to be. Just you wait and see."

Christmas Eve, 2001 – Now

There was a light sea mist blowing across the flat lands of the Wash in East Anglia. Pierce had driven for hours, navigating through the treacherous London roads and on through the county of Cambridge. Elenor reclined on the soft leather seats in the back of the vintage Rolls Royce as Gideon’s handsome and formally uniformed chauffeur concentrated on the road ahead. As always, there was a fully stocked mini-bar in the back and a small TV set with a DVD unit. Elenor sipped a warm brandy as the towns and villages rolled past. She had no idea where she was going precisely. Every Christmas Eve the Haines family had traditionally gathered at Gideon’s house in Essex for the festive season. Elenor had never known a Christmas anywhere else. But now Pierce was driving out past Peterborough. As if reading Elenor’s thoughts Pierce said without looking round, “Mr Haines has a house on an island, Miss Elenor. It’s called Ash Ra and it’s connected to the mainland by a causeway that’s only passable during low tide. You’re having Christmas there this year. I’m sorry for the speed, but it took a little longer to find you than expected. If we miss the tide we’ll have to fire a flare to the island and wait for a boat, and then you’d in all likelihood miss the early evening mince pies.”

Another tradition: hot mince pies with brandy butter and a glass of rare cognac in the early evening as the guests gathered in Gideon’s reception hall. Last year Gideon had hired a string quartet and choral singers to play in the background. The air had been fresh with the scent of frankincense and pine needles and the grand fireplace had been lit.

“You’ll like Ash Ra house, Miss Elenor. It’s bigger than the house in Essex and your Uncle owns the whole island. We’re going to have a shoot on Boxing Day if you’re interested.”

“Pierce… as you can see, I’m not really very well dressed at the moment.” Elenor felt embarrassed at her poor state of hygiene. She hadn’t changed her clothes for several days.

“Mr Haines has been appraised of your current situation, Miss Elenor. Fresh clothes await you at Ash Ra house. I'm sure you'll want to change your top at least."

"What? Oh…" Elenor suddenly remembered she was wearing a black long sleeved top with the words 'Too busy to FCUK' on it. "I… I get a lot of hassle in clubs."

"Of course."

Elenor settled back to enjoy the ride. As the car drove along a coastal road, Elenor could make out a small island just off the mainland. The causeway leading off from the beach was under siege by the encroaching waves. Already the end of the causeway that touched the island in the Wash estuary was wet with spray. Another ten minutes and most of the causeway would be under water.

“The tide comes in very quickly here Miss Elenor, on account of the flat water table.” Pierce gunned the Rolls Royce motor and aimed the car in a straight line.

“How long has my Uncle had this island? I never knew it existed.” Elenor stroked the antique leather upholstery of the back seat. It smelt of money and good breeding.

“A number of years, Miss Elenor. Your Uncle is entertaining some of his business partners this Christmas, so the house will have other guests. He asked me to let you know that.”

“Other people in addition to my family?”

“Just a few of his business partners. Unfortunately your sister Elizabeth hasn’t been able to make it this year. Mr Haines is gravely concerned with your safety by the way. He will talk to you when we reach the island.”

“Oh.” This would feel strange – Gideon had never entertained strangers on Christmas Eve before. This was supposed to be a special family day. What was going on? Up in the sky Elenor spotted a helicopter bearing for the island. Pierce had spotted it too.

“That will be some of your Uncle’s guests arriving, Miss.”

“My Uncle has a helicopter landing pad on the island?”

“Oh yes. It was finished last year. It proves very useful. He did want to build an airport runway for light aircraft but it turned out there wasn’t enough room.”

The Rolls Royce drove over the causeway, the wheels splashing through a few inches of water as the sea threatened to rush in at any moment and wash the car away. Even in the familiar luxury of the car, Elenor was still troubled by the recent developments with Alyson and her new super powered friends, the Furies. She had intended to take the opportunity to speak to Alyson over Christmas, away from the constant presence of Anya, especially in light of their last meeting yesterday. Elenor had met them both for drinks in Covent Garden and once again Alyson had a pocket full of money to dish out. Only this time…

“Hi Ellie. I’ve got something for you. Catch.” Alyson threw a heavy object towards her friend. Elenor caught it with both hands and frowned.

“This is a wallet, Alyson. This is someone’s wallet.” It was indeed a wallet – expensive cow hide and packed full of notes and some small change.

“There’s just under three hundred pounds there. Buy yourself something nice.” Alyson leaned against the bare brick wall. Despite the freezing cold weather both Alyson and Anya had come out wearing skimpy tops and no coat. Elenor had noticed that Alyson never seemed to feel the cold anymore.

“This is someone’s wallet. You stole this?”

“In a manner of speaking, but he was a bad guy. A crook. We caught him… uh…” Alyson glanced at Anya, who filled in for her.

“We caught him mugging someone. Broke his arm in two places and confiscated his wallet as a fine for wrong doing.” Anya managed to keep a straight face as she said it.

“He doesn’t look like a crook.” Elenor found a family photo of a thirty something man smiling, in a garden, with a woman and two children. “He looks like an accountant.”

“The worst villains always do.”

“Alyson – you’re not lying to me, are you?”

“Jesus, Ellie, you’re giving me a headache. I’m trying to do you a favour. You’ve got, what, ten pounds to your name? You can’t look after yourself – you never could. I’m helping you out and all you can do is complain.”

“I can’t take stolen…”

“Villain. Okay? Bad guy? Hurts people for a living. We’re superheroes. Are you saying I’m lying to you?”

“No…” Elenor looked embarrassed. “Of course not. You’re my friend. I trust you.”

Anya sniggered but turned away so that Elenor couldn’t see her face.

“I mean, if you don’t want the money…” Alyson reached to take the wallet back. “If you’d rather get Christmas dinner from a soup kitchen…”

“No, I’m sorry.” Elenor pocketed the wallet with a heavy heart and a guilty feeling. “I do need the money. But it’s from a criminal, right?”

Anya couldn’t stifle her laughter any longer. She snorted and choked, with tears running down her face.

“What?” Elenor stared at her.

“You’re priceless.” She ruffled Elenor’s hair. “Fucking priceless.”

Elenor gazed out of the window as the car drove up a narrow cobbled road. They were on the island now and it seemed to consist of a small harbour plus thirty to forty buildings surrounding it. From here the road rose steeply towards a large 18th century house built on the highest point of the island.

“It’s a fine house,” said Pierce as the car climbed the steep gradient. “You’ll have a wonderful Christmas.” The car rolled into the grounds in front of the house. Gideon had floodlit the driveway with red and green lights, giving the place a holly and ivy look that emphasized the twenty five foot tall Norwegian pine tree standing close by, and decorated with tinsel, baubles and lights from Harrods of Knightsbridge. A small group of choral singers stood underneath the tree. As soon as Pierce switched off the engine they broke out into song, singing Once in Royal David’s City, for the benefit of the new guests.

“I love this hymn,” said Elenor as she waited for Pierce to open the side door. “This was the song I sang at the school choir when I was nine. My Uncle came all the way from Scotland to hear me sing it.”

Pierce helped Elenor out of the car. “That’s probably why it’s his personal favourite too.” The main doors were open now and a number of servants stood waiting to greet Elenor. They were dressed in traditional nineteenth century clothes – long skirts and pinafores and white bonnets. One of the girls held a tray of freshly cooked mince pies, each one decorated with a sprig of holly, and another held a silver tray with a glass of fine cognac.

“Oh, I love Christmas,” said Elenor as she approached the door. She took a mince pie and bit into it. The third serving girl did a cute little curtsy and offered to take Elenor’s great coat. “I must change, Pierce. I can’t let my uncle see me like this.” By the Christmas tree, the choral group now began Oh Little Town of Bethlehem.

“This way Mistress.” The third girl escorted Elenor into the main hall and up the wide flight of stairs to a bedroom that had been set aside for her use over Christmas. Inside the room there was a clothes rack that held twenty different outfits from Harrods, each one still bearing the store tags. Elenor ran her fingers through the designer garments and read the three figure prices. The entire set couldn’t have brought much change from fifteen thousand pounds.

The girl curtsied again in her Victorian costume. The air was fresh inside the room with just a hint of tangerine and cinnamon. That smell always reminded Elenor of Christmas. “If you need anything, please ring the bell, otherwise please come and join the other guests when you’ve had a shower and dressed.”

“Thank you. I will.” Elenor crossed to the balcony window, opened it and stepped outside into the cold night air. From here she could smell the sea and hear the waves lapping on the rocks close by. Her room faced the ocean, away from the causeway. Somewhere in the distance, through the mist, was the coast of France.

One and a Half Hours later

Elenor had walked down stairs after a long and leisurely bath. She had chosen an elegant black dress and black heels for the classic evening look that never went out of style. Tastes might come and go but black would always be your friend. Downstairs in the main reception room Elenor saw several strangers, but also her father, her mother, and her younger brother, Daniel. A familiar looking woman stood close beside Daniel.

As Elenor entered the room she was immediately mobbed by her father and mother, both of whom were justifiably concerned for her safety.

"Look at you Elenor, have you been eating properly? We've been so worried about you… where are you living? Please don't tell me you're living with drug addicts or tramps… oh, my poor, poor girl…" Mrs Haines wrapped her arms around Elenor and hugged her to her chest.

"We’ve been very worried. Why didn't you call us?" asked Peter Haines. If he wanted to hug his daughter too, it was out of the question as his wife wasn’t letting go.

"I couldn't, Father. The telephone would have been tapped. They would have found me." Elenor’s eyes were feeling moist. It was so good to see her family again after so much time.

"Elenor… what have you done? The police are looking for you everywhere." Peter Haines was dressed in the same navy blue suit he wore at Christmas every year. He frowned and added, “you were in very newspaper.”

"I didn't do it, Father. I didn't."

"We never said you did. But you have to hand yourself in to the authorities so that the police know you're innocent. You can't run like this. There's been a terrible mistake and the police will sort it out."

"Don’t be foolish, Peter. She will do no such thing." Gideon Haines appeared in the doorway and walked calmly into the room. He was immaculately groomed as always, with silver dark hair and dressed in an expensive Italian suit. Despite being older than his brother, Peter, he had aged better and still looked fit and lively. "My niece is a clever, resourceful woman, and she has done exactly what I would have expected her to do in these circumstances."

"Uncle…" Elenor felt a lump in her throat. She loved her uncle so much.

"I think I know what is best for my daughter, Gideon." Peter Haines stepped towards his brother. “I think I know how to advise her.”

"Obviously you don't, Peter. Not if you’re telling her to go to the police." Gideon took Elenor's hands in his own and pressed them to his lips. “I'm so happy that you're safe." He hugged her fiercely and briefly.

"Is it safe for me to be here, Uncle? The Tabula Rasa have got all manner of special powers. They could find me and…"

"No one will find you. I simply won't permit it." Gideon smiled in that reassuring way he had.

Elenor suddenly noticed movement outside the windows. Big fluffy snowflakes were suddenly falling thickly from the previously clear sky. The weather forecast earlier today had given no indication that there could possibly be snow on Christmas Eve. "It's snowing outside! It's actually snowing outside!"

"That's down to her." Elenor’s brother, Daniel, pointed to a girl dressed in a polar white and blue looking costume, who stood beside the fireplace, drinking a glass of wine. "She's a French super hero - Weather Girl. Gideon hired her for the day to manipulate the weather around the island. We'll have snow all night now."

"Oh, wow! I love it!" Elenor turned back to her Uncle and wrapped her arms around him. She kissed him fiercely on the cheek. “This beats even last year’s Christmas!” She kissed him again.

“Then I’m a very happy Uncle.” Gideon ruffled her hair. “Merry Christmas, darling Elenor.”

From the side, Peter Haines scowled darkly and gripped his wife’s hand rather tighter than usual. Unheard by either Elenor or Gideon, Amanda Haines whispered a couple of words to her husband.

Elenor turned now to her younger brother and hugged him. “You’re looking good, Daniel. And I’m so glad you’re not wearing a skirt tonight.” She whispered the last sentence.

“Yeah, well, Dad would have a cow if I did. He thinks it means I’m gay or something. He doesn’t understand fashion.”

“Well I don’t understand young men wearing skirts either.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not exactly on the cutting edge of fashion, sis. I mean, you wear flares.”

“Everyone wears flares these days!”

“Everyone your age does.”

“What do you mean ‘your age’? I’m only twenty four!”

“No offence, sis, but my generation thinks you all look stupid. No one under eighteen dresses like that anymore. I can’t believe you wrote for a fashion magazine and you carried on wearing flares. You’re so embarrassing to be with sometimes.”

Elenor stared, aghast. “I cannot believe… my younger brother who wears a skirt… is lecturing me on what’s in or out of fashion…” She thwacked him playfully around the ear. “Isn’t it past your bed time?”

Daniel snorted and hugged her again. “I’ve been really worried about you,” he whispered.

“I know.” She stroked his head and pressed his face to her shoulder. “I know.”

“So you’re Elenor Haines.” The voice was well spoken and eerily familiar. Elenor turned and saw a beautiful looking woman with impossibly long hair. She was about Elenor’s height and she wore a shorter version of Elenor’s outfit. “I’m Rachel Parr – Daniel’s girl friend.” Elenor stared, quite simply amazed. She loved her little brother, but this woman was so out of his league that she would never in a million years have guessed that he could have found…

Wait a minute…

There was something disturbingly familiar about this woman.

“I’ve wanted you to meet Rachel for ages now,” said Daniel. He put his arm around her waist. “We met at College. Rachel is studying philosophy.”

“I’m specialising in Nietzsche,” added Rachel.

“We’ve been going out together since May.” Daniel kissed Rachel and basked in the admiration and respect he knew he’d be getting from his older sister.

Elenor’s brain was doing double flips. That face… that voice…

Rachel smiled. “Is something wrong, Elenor?”

And then it hit her. June 5th. Tim Barker. Waterloo Station. A mad woman in a cybernetic body suit, gunning down everyone in the main concourse. Black Bat turning up to save the day, and Elenor in her Argent costume fighting… her… that was her… Rachel Parr…

“Oh, if only we could read your mind right now,” said Rachel sweetly. “We’ve got so much catching up to do, Elenor.” Her smile was malicious now, but only Elenor noticed it for what it was. Rachel squeezed Daniel’s hand possessively. “Perhaps later?”

“You…” but before Elenor could say anything, her father touched her elbow. “What?”

“We're worried about Elizabeth, Elenor. Not nearly as worried as we are about you, but we're worried."

"She's had a bad year," added Amanda Haines, equally concerned.

"Not that you'd know that, Elenor. You never call her…" said Peter Haines.

"I've been so busy. I'm very sorry. You wouldn't believe what my year has been like." Elenor glanced quickly back and saw Rachel retreating, pulling Daniel towards the dance floor.

"Well I very much doubt it's been as bad as your sister's. She lost her gallery three months ago. She couldn’t afford the rent in London anymore.”

"Uncle Gideon would have…"

"Unlike you, Elizabeth wanted to run her gallery and make it her personal success. She didn't want it to stand as a vanity project." Peter Haines couldn’t help stare disapprovingly at Gideon’s back as he spoke a short distance away with a number of well dressed ‘business people’.

"But…"

"And you know she was engaged to that nice doctor?"

"No…" Elenor was confused. “What doctor?”

"That's just so like you, Elenor. You take no interest at all in your sister. She was engaged five months ago. Well, they’ve both moved up country and he’s got a job in New Eden.”

“New Eden?”

“That Christian town they built in the Midlands. Well, they call it Christian – Fundamentaligion, or something like that. It’s not Catholic like we are.”

“I think I read about it while I was in America. What’s she doing there?”

“Like I said, Simon has a job there, and apparently they’ve both converted to Fundamentaligion and live in this closed community. It’s an intolerable place.”

“What your father is trying to say,” added Amanda, “is that Elizabeth told us it’s going to be difficult staying in contact with us unless we convert too.” Elenor’s mother seemed close to tears.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Elizabeth says we’re not going to Heaven unless we join her Church. We’re not allowed to visit her, and she doesn’t want to leave New Eden.”

“What? This is ridiculous… I’m sorry, Mother, but I know for a fact Elizabeth doesn’t even believe in God…”

“Yes she does!” exclaimed Peter, defensively. “We’re a God fearing family. You’ve all been brought up properly.”

Elenor glanced round and noticed that Rachel had slipped away and taken Daniel by the hand. How the hell had her brother got involved with a psychopathic super villain? And was Rachel hinting that she knew Elenor was Argent? Elenor turned back to her parents. “I’m sorry, but Elizabeth is an atheist. She told me so, many times.”

“You believe in the Lord, don’t you Elenor?” Peter looked very concerned.

“Yes, of course I do. But that’s not the point.” Elenor scratched her head. “Look, there must be some sort of misunderstanding somewhere. I’ll speak to Elizabeth in the new year and sort this out.”

“Please do Elenor. She won’t talk to use anymore. She says we’re sinners.” Elenor’s mother dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.

The world is going crazy, thought Elenor. “I’ll be back in a minute. Everything will be all right. I promise.”

Elenor walked quickly across the room in search of Rachel Parr. As she scanned the room her eyes made contact with her Uncle. Gideon smiled and waved her forward.

"Elenor… you look radiant…" Gideon approached his niece and kissed her on the forehead. "Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without you being here." Gideon presented his niece to his business colleagues. Their smiles seemed genuine and welcoming. "I've mentioned you to my partners so often they probably feel like they already know you. This is Mr Engel, Mr Blake, Ms Denton, and Herr Ribbentrop."

"You should see his office, Elenor. He has framed pictures of you all along his bookshelf. I tell you, the man’s obsessed with you!" Engel leaned and kissed Elenor on the cheek. "Please to meet you at long last."

"Elenor…" Ms Denton shook her hand warmly. “I’ve heard so much about you from Mr Haines that you almost seem part of the family.”

"A pleasure," said Ribbentrop, as he took his turn to kiss Elenor’s hand.

"Merry Christmas," said Blake, rather more soberly. He raised his glass in salute.

“Uh… hi.” Elenor smiled at the imposing looking people. They all radiated wealth, power and blue blood. “You all work with my Uncle?”

“Something like that.” Ms Denton sipped some wine. “We’ve known each other since University.”

“Oh. You all went to University together?”

“Different universities, actually.” Blake winked at Denton.

“Oh. So, how did you… know each other… at University?”

Gideon, Blake, Ribbentrop, Denton, and Engel all smiled at each other in the way that old school friends often do when they’re sharing a special in joke.

“To coin a cliché, we could tell you, but we’d have to kill you afterwards!” Blake chuckled good naturedly at his little ‘joke’. Elenor joined in, but felt a little uncomfortable. She fidgeted a little.

“I’ve got to talk to someone, Uncle. I hope you don’t mind?”

“Of course not. We’re just talking business anyway. Setting the world to rights and all that.” Everyone smiled good naturedly again as Gideon continued. “I’ll see you later tonight or, failing that, tomorrow morning.”

The Pool Room

Rachel Parr stood by the side of the swimming pool in the basement. The lights were dim and reflected in the blue water. Rachel was drinking champagne, with her back to Elenor as she entered the room.

“I know you, don’t I?”

“Yes.” Rachel threw her glass into the water and turned around. “It’s been a while. Over six months I believe.”

“You’re that psychopath who killed all those people in the train station.” Elenor closed the door. There was no one in the room now but themselves. “What the hell are you doing with my brother?”

“I’m with your brother because he is your brother.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you dress up in a black and mustard costume and fight crime as Argent.”

“How do you know that?”

“Research. You don’t cover your tracks very well.” Rachel flexed her fingers and took off her high heeled shoes.

“I don’t understand. What is this all about?”

"I've thought about what I'm going to do. Your little brother is really susceptible to suggestion. He adores me, and he's desperate to seem cool and interesting. I'm going to introduce him to heroin. Won't that be fun? I'm going to make him a junkie until his entire life revolves around me and the needle. He's going to live in a squalid shit hole, stealing from his friends and selling everything he has to buy H for the two of us. And then when I'm bored with that I'm going to inject him in the spine with a drug I bought in Amsterdam. It will destroy his motor co-ordination and turn him into a spastic. And then I'll give him back to you. You can spend the rest of your life wiping the shit from his ass and spoon feeding him baby food.”

“What?” Elenor circled Rachel now. Both women moved slowly, regarding each other. “Is this because I stopped your killing spree?”

“Oh no.” Rachel laughed. “I introduced myself into your brother’s life before we even met. I’m going to be a super villain you see. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do ever since I was a young girl. I’ve got the costume. I’ve got the best super powers that money can buy. I’ve got a secret head quarters. I’ve got henchmen, but what I need most of all is a super hero who hates me. A hero that I can dedicate myself to and fight relentlessly over and over again for no reason at all, until one of us kills the other.” Rachel kept her distance from Elenor for the moment. “I thought about it for a while and then I chose you. I’m going to be your arch villain.”

“I’ve met some fucked up people in my time as Argent, but you’re more than just a few guppies short of an aquarium. I don’t want an arch villain!”

"If I was you Elenor I'd kill me now. It's the only way to save your brother. He'll never leave me. Nothing you can say will make him leave me. He adores me. I'm going to crush his life slowly and there's nothing you can do about it. If you kill me now you'll go to prison for it, but it'll save your brother. Your family will never understand why you did it, and your brother will hate you forever. Can you picture your brother in a wheelchair? A twitching helpless basket case, poisoned by me. His face will remind you of me every day of your life. I hope you decide to have children one day, Elenor. I'll take your baby and boil it slowly in an iron pot of water. And I'll laugh as its pink red skin bubbles off its flesh and..."

Elenor snap punched Rachel into the wall. Rachel slid down and kicked out at Elenor, tripping her legs about the ankles. Encumbered in her long skirt, Elenor wasn't able to jump back, so she fell to the tiled floor.

"We're going to fight over and over again for no reason at all, just because I say we will! We'll hate each other as costumed foes and then we'll meet afterwards at your father's house for tea!" Rachel scrabbled on top of Elenor and bit into her ear. Elenor smacked her elbow down on the back of Rachel’s head. She followed up with a kick to Rachel’s gut that sent her sprawling across the floor.

"I've been thinking too about our final battle." Rachel leapt up and jumped several steps back to put some distance between herself and Elenor. "We will have a final battle - arch enemies always do." She ducked a series of blows from an enraged Elenor. "I'm talking about the battle where we beat each other into a pulp and one of us dies. Perhaps we could fight on top of a waterfall, and one of us could fall to her death? Just think how cinematic that would be - the body spinning helplessly in slow motion, down hundreds of feet to crash limp and broken on the rocks below, white surf spraying the remains."

Elenor swung a series of punches and saw them blocked in quick succession. Rachel was good, but Elenor knew that she was better. Her fourth snap punch got through Rachel’s defences and bloodied her nose. Rachel staggered back, laughing.

"I'll take my time. Every morning you'll wake up and wonder whether I destroyed your brother the night before. I'll make you jump every time the phone rings. And until then I'll fuck your brother, your little brother, the one who loves and trusts you implicitly. I'll fuck him and I'll use him and I'll spit in his face while he's sleeping. Because I hate everyone on this miserable planet! Because I want everyone to suffer! Because I want everyone to suffer like I've suffered!"

Elenor punched Rachel again and knocked her into the swimming pool. And just as she did, the door opened and Daniel walked in.

“Elenor! Rachel! Oh God! Rachel!” Daniel ran straight for the pool and dived in, fully clothed. He hit the water fast and dived down deep towards Rachel’s body. Elenor stared at the water’s surface, the adrenalin still pumping through her body. When Daniel’s head emerged, he was holding Rachel’s limp body and forcing her to take some air into her lungs. He swam with Rachel to the shallow side of the pool and helped her out of the water. Elenor suspected Rachel was faking her injuries and her near drowning experience, though come to think of it, she had hit her quite hard.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!” he swore at his sister. “ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY! THAT’S MY GIRL FRIEND!”

“I…” Daniel knew that Elenor was Argent, but would he necessarily believe that his beloved girl friend was a psychopathic super villain?

“I’m sorry…” said Rachel, in between coughing up water. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said what I did to Elenor.”

“What?” Daniel looked down at Rachel. He was so much in love with her.

Rachel clung to Daniel in a helpless kind of way. “Please don’t let her hit me again. She’s so strong… and so fast… all I said was, only old people wear flared trousers anymore. I didn’t know Elenor still wears them.”

“Elenor!” Daniel rounded on his sister.

“This isn’t the end of this.” Elenor stared coldly at Rachel, who now resembled a helpless and frightened looking girl. Daniel wrapped his arms protectively around her trembling shoulders. “Not by a long shot.” Elenor stormed out of the room.

The main hall

"Pierce, I need to get out for a while. Is there a pub in the village below the house?" Elenor was twitching. She wanted to hit someone badly.

Pierce betrayed no sign of curiosity. "Yes - The Green Man. But it's dark out there, Miss Elenor, and the road to the village is pretty rough. There are a lot of pot holes. You'd be better off staying in tonight."

"Well I'm going out. Fetch my coat, please." Elenor placed her wine glass on a table in the hall. Pierce returned quickly with a brand new Chanel overcoat in Elenor's size and a hooded storm lantern. Elenor noticed that Pierce had put his coat on as well.

"Going somewhere?" she asked as she took the overcoat.

"I'll walk you down to the village, Miss Elenor. I wouldn't want you to get lost in the fens."

"Okay."

The Green Man ale house

The men in the bar (and they were almost exclusively men) greeted Elenor's arrival with a mixture of surprise and unease. The loud murmur of pub conversation died down as Pierce held the door open. Elenor walked inside with the howl of the wind at her back. The pub was small, cramped and warm. A low ceiling was decorated with small framed photographs, many dating back to the mid twentieth century, and all yellow with age. Timbered beams stained with centuries of nicotine divided the pub into small nooks and crannies. The building was old with small windows, weathered by age and salt spray. A crackling fire burned brightly, stoked with small logs brought over from the mainland. A number of old men sat at the small tables, while the younger men stood beside the bar, chatting to the dark haired bar maid. A few of the fishermen played darts in the corner. The old pub was built close to the harbour wall and it was the only place on the island that men could meet socially and while away the cold winter nights by a hearth fire. The walk down from the top of the hill had taken twenty minutes with Pierce leading the way, holding his storm lantern.

Pierce closed the heavy wooden door and took Elenor's expensive coat. He draped it over his arm and gestured with his hand for Elenor to take a seat. A few men moved aside as she approached. Pierce glanced at the table closest to the fire where a couple of men sat, playing cards. They stiffened and quickly ended the game. Picking up their coats and ale tankards, the men vacated the table without a word and shuffled towards the bar.

"Miss Elenor…" Pierce indicated the cosy table beside the fire, now free for her use.

"Thank you. But weren't those men…"

Pierce draped her black coat over one of the chairs and pulled another chair out for her to sit on. "They were just about to leave anyway."

Elenor sat down, conscious that everyone in the pub was trying very hard not to look directly at her. Pierce walked to the bar. The barman, who was in the middle of taking an order, immediately switched his attention to his new guests. "A pint of Green Man ale and a glass of white wine, please," said Pierce. Elenor noted there was no exchange of money.

"It's quite cosy here," said Elenor as Pierce placed the white wine in front of her and sat down in the chair opposite.

"Yes. I don't come here very often, but once in a while it's nice to mix with the locals."

"They all live on the island?" Elenor glanced round. Everyone had turned to face a direction away from her.

"Yes. There's not much of a tourist industry on this island."

"They seem to know who I am."

"Everyone on this island knows who you are, Miss Elenor."

"But I've never been here before."

"It is common knowledge on the island that you would be coming here for Christmas."

"Oh. You know, this feels strange. You've been working for my Uncle for, how long now?"

"Five years."

"And in all that time I've never really spoken to you. You've always been, in the background."

Pierce smiled. "Well, it's not like I'm part of the family."

"What did you do before you worked for my Uncle?"

"I was training to be a priest."

"No! Really?"

"It's true," Pierce sipped his ale. "I was going to take holy orders and devote my life to God."

"What happened?"

"God didn't want me."

"I don't understand?"

"God can be very fussy about who should preach His Word."

"I still don't understand."

"I'm gay, Miss Elenor. I enjoy the company of men."

"Oh." Elenor looked a little embarrassed. "Well… that accounts for your impeccable grooming. You are always very well turned out."

"Thank you. You’re not comfortable around gay men, are you?"

"No… not really… I’m sorry… I didn't know…"

"I don't feel a need to publicise my sexuality."

"No, of course not. So, you were…"

"Thrown out of the Catholic church - yes. I was persona non gratis, and to be honest, I hated myself for the way I felt. I didn't want to be gay. I had been raised to believe that it was a sin."

"Do you still feel that way?"

"A little, yes. I don't think I'll ever totally be free of the guilt."

"Do you mind talking about this? With me?"

"You can ask me anything you want, Miss Elenor."

Elenor smiled. "You'll have to stop calling me that. It feels strange."

“Your Uncle insists on it."

"Well, he's hardly going to know if you drop it tonight."

"Oh, he'll know," said Pierce enigmatically.

"He's not here."

Pierce said nothing by way of reply.

"Pierce?"

"Your Uncle loves you very much, Miss Elenor. He's always looked out for you. He always will." Pierce got up. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment – I’m in need of the toilet.”

“Of course.” She watched Pierce thread his way through the locals until he disappeared from view. Now Elenor became aware of one old fisherman who was looking at her from across the room. Unlike his friends he seemed to have a nervous interest in the woman from the big house. Elenor smiled in his direction. The man was short and withered with a coarse face worn dry from years wrestling with fish nets in the English Channel. His body showed the ravages of too much hard work and long hours spent away from the comforts of home. Seeing Elenor's warm smile (it was Christmas after all), the man seemed to make up his mind. He put his ale tankard on the bar and moved towards Elenor's table. Two of his friends sought to restrain him, sensing what he was about to do.

"Don't be so bloody daft, Jethro, ye can't bother the Lady of the House."

"Sit down and finish yer drink, ye daft bugger," said another. But Jethro wrestled free with surprising strength for his declining years, and stumbled towards the fireplace. He stopped a few feet away from Elenor's table and removed his flat cap as a mark of respect.

"Hello," said Elenor.

"Mistress…" the poor old man was almost bowing. "Me name be Jethro and I have worked hard at sea since I were twelve. I bring fish for the island. I lost my brother at sea thirteen years ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

I know I shouldn't be approachin' thee, but 'tis my right arm - it be agony, swollen with rheumatism for five long years now."

"Oh. I'm afraid I'm not really carrying any money on me. I wish I could give you something." He seemed to be a nice old man.

The man stiffened with pride. "I be not looking for charity, Mistress. Jethro done worked hard for nigh on sixty years now, and only missed three days in all that time."

"That's… that's very good." Back at Chic magazine Elenor would usually rack up three days sick leave in as many months.

"I hope for the sweet blessing of yer touch, Mistress. Touch my arm, Mistress and cure me pain."

"What?"

Jethro rocked on his feet a little. Elenor could see he was very nervous, but desperate enough to speak to her this way.

"Bless me with yer gift and me prayers will be with ye on the dark nights."

"I can't cure your rheumatism! Who do you think I am?"

"The Lady of the house on the hill. Master Gideon's young niece."

"Yes, well, that is me… but look, I can't cure rheumatism by touching your arm! That's ridiculous!"

“I know ye can, Mistress. Every man in this room knows ye can." He crossed himself with the sign of the Holy Cross as he said this. "I be no use to no one like this. Some nights me arm keeps me awake in pain. A blessing is all ye need give." He looked so sad.

"I… look… you're making a big mistake…" Elenor sighed. "Oh, all right then."

The man quickly took his jacket off, anxious now because Pierce would be returning soon from the toilet and somehow Elenor sensed the man wasn’t supposed to be approaching her like this. He rolled up his shirt sleeve and held his liver flecked arm towards Elenor. She blinked and touched his elbow joint with the tips of her fingers.

"Um, I hope your arm will get better," she said. Tears broke in the old man's rheumy eyes.

"Bless ye, child, bless ye fer yer kindnes." He rolled his sleeve down. "A blessing on yer house and all yer children."

"Yes, well…" This was getting too much. Just when Elenor felt she'd seen the weirdest thing life could throw at her, along came something even stranger.

"Ye're a good woman, Mistress Elenor!" shouted someone from the bar all of a sudden. Elenor turned in surprise and saw a middle aged fisherman hold his tankard aloft. "Ye're a fine lady!" There was a general murmur of assent throughout the room.

Elenor sipped her drink nervously. As soon as Pierce returned from the toilet they were going to leave. This was just too weird.

The Main House

Back at the house Elenor considered speaking to Pierce about the scene at the pub, but somehow she sensed that to do so would be to get the fishermen into trouble. It was obvious from the way they acted that they had been told not to bother her over Christmas. Elenor warmed her hands by the huge open fire. Were it not lit there would have been room enough for Elenor to walk inside the fireplace and stand upright. Split logs, nearly five feet in length burnt slowly in the hearth. It was a lovely fire. Pine cones lay scattered in the flames, adding to the Christmassy smell.

“Would you, um, like another drink, Miss Elenor?” The voice came from one of the serving girls, but this time the voice was hesitant, almost embarrassed from the act of asking.

The woman was Elenor's age, with long chestnut brown hair pinned back underneath an old fashioned bonnet of some kind. She wore a long crinoline dress and pinafore and carried a tray of drinks. The clothing resembled the dress uniform of serving women in 19th century houses. It was quaint, old fashioned and ultimately demeaning. And perhaps it was meant to be, for Elenor suddenly realised she knew this woman. They had been to school together at Minsbury Grammar School for Girls. Elenor had been 14 years old. Her father had lost his job again during the recession and to help make ends meet Elenor's mother had bought some second hand clothes for Elenor to wear at school. The stigma attached to this act of poverty had made her life a misery for months. Chief instigator of the torment was one Melissa Barrett - the same woman who now stood before Elenor serving drinks.

Minsbury Grammar School 1991

A small group of girls trailed behind Elenor as she walked the long half a mile to school. Living out in the countryside she had relied on her father driving her to school every day, but since he had been forced to sell his car to pay for some roof repairs, Elenor had been forced to walk instead.

"Elenor wears other people's clothes!" said Melissa. "Elenor can't afford her own clothes. She wears smelly old clothes from smelly little charity shops!"

The words weren't directed at Elenor but she was meant to overhear them. It was true. The knee length navy blue skirt and white blouse that she wore were both second hand, and her shoes had been a hand me down from her older sister, Elizabeth, who was now studying art in the 6th form college. Elenor clutched her satchel and carried on walking.

"Elenor's going to be a bag lady when she grows up!”

"I hear Elenor's father had to sell his car. They can't pay their bills you know."

"They're going into a poor house in the Midlands. They're going to have to live with tramps and gypsies." Melissa wrinkled her nose.

"Shut up!" Shut up!" Elenor span round and glared at her class mates.

Melissa elicited surprise. "OH Elenor, we're not talking to you, we're talking about you!"

"We're not going to a poor house!"

"Yes you are. That's what I heard. A man from social services spoke to your father about his debts and whether he's capable of supporting a family. He's going to put you all in a work house near Manchester and you're going to be scrubbing floors and going to a school with special needs children.”

"No! We're not!"

"Elenor has special needs. She needs Martin Cook, but he's not interested in her."

"I don't!"

"We've seen you. Elenor wants a boy friend, but she won't get one dressed like that."

"Stop it! Shut up!" Elenor pushed Melissa and sent her stumbling backwards into a hedge. Melissa’s friends pushed Elenor back.

"Hey, special needs girl, what do you think you're doing!" Melissa pulled herself free of the twigs and brushed her smart school blazer clean. The other girls had surrounded Elenor now and were poking and pushing her. Melissa made to slap Elenor, but Elenor caught her wrist in mid air. She was only fourteen but she had been training in kick boxing classes since the age of five. Before Melissa knew what was going on, Elenor had twisted her arm around her back and had pushed her, head first now, into the hedge. One of the other girls punched her from behind. Elenor swung round and punched her back, but her punch was steady, controlled and from the hip. Her fist caught the girl square on the chin and knocked her down.

"Oh," said Elenor. Her hand hurt. In time she would learn not to punch hard parts of the body. Two of the girls grappled with her and pulled her to the ground. She was pressed face first into the grass as they sat on her back and punched her, doing little damage. Melissa got back to her feet and kicked Elenor in the leg.

"Special needs girl!" she screamed. "You're going to a poor house! You're going to a poor house! One day you're going to be waiting tables on me!"

"We were at school together." Elenor stared at the girl. Yes, it was Melissa. The girl who had made her teenage years hell.

"Yes Miss Elenor." The woman looked acutely uncomfortable.

"What are you doing here?"

"I’m Working. I was offered a job by Mr Haines. It pays well - twice what I was making working in a restaurant." So Gideon had deliberately hired her. Was this some sort of revenge, ten years too late, for the way the girl had teased Elenor? Or was it just coincidence. Was Elenor supposed to see the girl, remember what she had done, and enjoy the fact that the tables had turned so dramatically? For at the time Melissa had been one of the most popular girls at school. Elenor had wanted acceptance from her and her friends. And now she was waiting on Elenor in the starched uniform of a nineteenth century servant. Elenor glanced towards her Uncle who winked at her as he entertained two of his business partners.

"If there's anything you want, please call me and I'll come straight over," said Melissa, sadly.

Elenor stared in disbelief.

The Hallway

The hallway was dark except for the glittering lights on the fifteen foot tall Scandinavian pine tree. Elenor stood there, watching the glow of the twinkling lights as the sounds of laughter echoed from the reception hall. Beautifully wrapped presents lay under the tree; plenty of gifts for everyone, be they family, friends or servants. She knelt down and picked up one of the packages at random. The gift tag read ‘To Elenor with the utmost love, from your Uncle Gideon’.

Elenor remembered Christmases long ago; she remembered running down the stairs on bare feet, too excited to put her slippers on, and Uncle Gideon catching her at the foot of the stairs and telling her, with a sly smile, to walk back upstairs and put them and her dressing gown on over her pyjamas before she'd be allowed to see her presents. She remembered seeing them in the glow of the early morning firelight; rushing to the brightly packaged boxes and tearing them open with a flurry of little fingers. She remembered her older sister, Elizabeth, thirteen years old, standing by the fireplace, a glass of fruit juice in her hand, amused at the sight of her little sister trembling with excitement as each present was revealed.

The wrapping paper around this gift had a small Cartier symbol on it. She recalled her parents, guests of Uncle Gideon, like her, holding each other, apparently smiling as Uncle Gideon distributed expensive presents for all in previous years.

But this year was different. Elenor had lived a lifetime between Christmas 2000 and now. Perhaps she should tell her Uncle? She had always told him everything else about her life. How would he react if he knew that his niece was a super hero? Would he wrap her in his big arms and hug all the terror and the pain away? Elenor unwrapped the present, though she wasn't supposed to touch them until morning. Inside was a watch worth approximately ten thousand pounds. It was gold and diamond encrusted and beautiful. There would be more presents, many more.

"Do you like it?" Gideon's voice spoke behind her. Elenor turned quickly around and looked guilty.

"I'm sorry. I should have waited until the morning."

"It doesn't matter. Do you like it?" Gideon sat down beside his niece.

“It’s beautiful, Uncle.”

"Then I'm glad. I want to give you so much, Elenor. And I'm going to. I'm going to give you the greatest gift of all one day. But until then you'll have to make do with sparkling toys." He kissed her emotionally on her forehead.

“Where have you been?”

"Busy, Elenor. My business interests have developed to a point where I'm going to go away for a while. To be honest I shouldn't really be with you now, but Christmas with you has always meant so much to me. You mean the world to me Elenor. You're the most important thing in my life."

"Oh, Uncle…" she hugged him and it felt so good. Her Uncle could always make the bad things go away.

"I want you to understand that, while I'm away, I'll be thinking of you, and everything I do will be for your benefit. You are so precious to me. I can see you're not happy, and that hurts me more than you can ever imagine. I would give anything for you to be happy, to have your heart's desire, but I suspect what you lack in your life is the one thing it's not in my power to give."

Elenor nodded silently and pressed her wet face to her Uncle's shoulder. "I'm so afraid."

"If need be I'll get you overseas to a country where no one will ever find you. I can buy you an estate in India, or Bali or South America, where you'll have a house with thirty bedrooms, as many servants as you need, and body guards."

"Just so scared…"

“You will never be in jail, Elenor. I simply won’t permit it.”

"I didn't do it, Uncle."

"I know. It will all be over on Boxing Day, one way or another. I'll put a stop to the pain."

"It's not that easy."

"It is for me. 2002 will be the beginning of a new life for you. Until then, just relax and enjoy Christmas."

“Uncle… I know one of the women serving drinks inside the main hall.”

“Do you?”

“We were at school together. She teased me about my second hand clothes. I told you about it at the time.”

“So you did. I remember now.”

“She’s really embarrassed to find herself having to fetch me drinks all these years later.”

“I imagine it would be quite humiliating, given the circumstances, yes.” Gideon smiled.

“Did you arrange this deliberately? As some kind of revenge for what Melissa did to me?”

“Elenor…” Gideon laughed. “I assure you I have better things to do with my time.”

“I’m sorry.” Elenor laughed too. “That must have sounded really weird.”

“Just a little.” Gideon ruffled her hair again.

"Uncle, I've never asked you this before but, how rich are you?"

"The richest man alive, because I have you for a niece." He hugged her affectionately, but Elenor wasn't going to let him off that easily.

"No, really. I know you made your first million when I was small, but I don't really know how much you have. This house and all the servants must eat up a lot of the income from your capital."

Gideon smiled again.

"Please, I'm family. You can tell me."

"Three point five." He regarded Elenor.

"Three point five million. That's a lot of money. What do you make on it? Eight percent a year?"

"Three point five billion, Elenor. Three point five billion." Gideon turned and walked away.

Elenor’s Room, close to midnight

"Hello. Do you mind if I join you for a minute?" Melissa stood timidly in the doorway and stared out towards the bay windows.

Elenor looked up from the balcony and nodded. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to thank you for earlier on. For not being cruel. It was very humiliating."

Elenor nodded.

"And… I just wanted to say… I'm really sorry about everything at school. I was very young."

Elenor nodded again and cradled her glass of wine. "I'm thinking of becoming an alcoholic, you know. I think it might make my life simpler and easier to cope with. I could just get up late each day and pad around my flat drinking wine and then fall asleep and do the same thing again the next day. It would be really easy and all I'd have to worry about would be going to the off licence for more wine."

Melissa sensed that maybe this wasn’t the best time to talk about things. She took a couple of steps backwards. "Do you want to be alone?"

"I am alone. Even when I'm with other people, I am alone. I can be in a crowd and I am alone. What happened at school doesn't matter anymore. Do you have a boy friend?"

"Yes. He’s called Ryan. We've been together for three years."

"Are you happy?"

"Yes. Yes we are."

"Then go home and be happy. My Uncle will pay you for the three days you were supposed to be employed here. Go home and spend Christmas with someone who loves you." Elenor slumped down into a chair.

"I am really sorry you know."

"I don't like you Melissa. You made me very unhappy for a year and a half of my school life, so I'm never going to like you, but I'm past looking for revenge. I don't care enough any more."

"Perhaps we could… have a drink or something one night. There's this great club I know…"

"I don't want to be your friend, Melissa. So I'm not going to be your friend. Just go.”

Melissa moved away from the bay window doors. She paused for a moment. "Merry Christmas Elenor. And I really am sorry.” And then she left.

The Staircase landing, just after midnight

Elenor was knocking back the wine at a steady rate. This was the good stuff, unlike the home made supply at the squat. Gideon owned an impressive wine cellar, though he rarely drank any of it himself. In fact Gideon rarely seemed to enjoy the fruits of his money at all. Certainly he wore fine quality suits, and owned a number of impressive looking cars, but he never indulged in the vices that a swiftly made personal fortune could buy. Elenor respected her Uncle for that. He was a stable pillar of security in an otherwise fragile and shaky world. Outside, the snow was still falling. Come the morning the island would be transformed into a magical winter wonderland.

As Elenor stared out of one of the large bay windows set into the first floor wall, she became aware of a helicopter landing roughly three hundred yards to the east of the house. A number of servants waited patiently beside the landing strip, holding storm lanterns. The snow was falling heavy on the ground, but through it Elenor was able to make out a figure as it left the helicopter. Another guest – probably one of Gideon’s business partners. Elenor nursed her wine and watched the small huddle of men make their way quickly towards the front of the house. Curiosity kept her watching until she was distracted by the sound of people talking in the hall below. It was her Uncle Gideon with Mr Engel.

“… in a few minutes. I’ll take him into my study. Have you seen Elenor around?”

“She’s gone to bed, Gideon.”

“Good. I don’t want her to see our guest.”

Elenor’s ears pricked up now. She crouched low behind the banister rail and peered down into the hallway. It was her Uncle and he seemed to be waiting for this late guest to arrive.

“She doesn’t know he’s coming. The servants were instructed not to mention him.” Engel paced nervously around the hall.

Elenor felt her stomach grow cold. What was this? The main doors were suddenly flung open by the servants outside and the stranger. who had arrived in the helicopter, strode into the hall, snow flakes billowing around his broad shouldered frame. It was Wardog – Wardog of the Tabula Rasa; Wardog who wanted to kill Elenor slowly and painfully.

The scene below felt like the last brick being placed in Elenor’s personal wall. She stared, horrified, as she watched Wardog, her personal tormentor, walk through Gideon's hall and greet her uncle warmly. She saw them shaking hands; Wardog smiling; Gideon smiling. They were old friends.

No… Elenor gripped the thick drapes and stopped herself from spilling her wine. There had to be an explanation for this other than the obvious. Why would Wardog be here? Why would he have come tonight? He wants you. He wants to kill you. Your Uncle owes him a debt. No… it was just too awful to even consider… her Uncle - the one man she had always relied on - was ready to betray her to her enemies? And yet, how incredible was this? Hadn't everything else in her life turned upside down this year? It was just one more nightmare amongst many.

I’m not paranoid… whispered Elenor… everyone is out to get me. Everyone is in on this… there’s nobody I can trust…

Gideon’s words earlier today echoed in her ears: “It will all be over on Boxing Day, one way or another. I'll put a stop to the pain."

Oh God. Elenor felt sick. She was going to be sick, only it wasn’t that kind of sick, it was the feeling you get after you’d been raped. Elenor had never been raped, but this must be how it felt. No… not her Uncle… not the one man she trusted above everyone else.

“I’m so glad you could make it at short notice.” Gideon pointed towards his private study. “Perhaps you’d care to come this way. There’s something I want to show you. I think you’ll find it interesting.”

Elenor watched Engel, Gideon and Wardog laugh and joke as they strolled quietly towards the oak panelled study at the other end of the house. Elsewhere in the main hall the Christmas Eve party was winding down.

Get out of here. Got to get out of here. Got to get out of here now. Find a boat – row to the mainland. Get out of here. Get out of here. Get out of here. Elenor ran downstairs and grabbed her coat from the coat rack. There was no time to change into more suitable clothes. Was Gideon going to hand her over for forty pieces of silver right away, or first thing tomorrow? Elenor was out of the door and running past the surprised servants before anyone could react. She heard someone calling her name, but within seconds she was out of earshot and running furiously for the harbour.

Gideon’s Study

Gideon Haines was brusque and business like as he introduced the others to Wardog. "This is Engel, Denton, Ribbentrop and Blake. They're all members of the Seven." Gideon paced around his desk as Wardog stood looking suitably impressed. Ribbentrop poured a cut glass of rich brandy and handed it to the superhero. Gideon pretended not to notice this touch of hospitality.

"You're familiar with this woman." He showed Wardog a glossy colour photograph of Elenor.

"I certainly am. I've been hunting the bitch for a couple of months now. One of my friends is blind, another is dead, and I'm scarred because of her. We framed her for a murder recently so the police are hot on her trail."

"I know." Gideon dropped the photo onto his desk and sat down on its edge. He folded his arms. "James Pemberton, I believe?"

"Yeah." Wardog sipped his brandy. "Any help you can give in locating her would be appreciated. She's a slippery bitch."

"She's in the house as we speak. Downstairs."

"You're kidding?" Wardog's face cracked into a broad grin. "Excellent. I'm really grateful for your help, Sir. I'll take it from here, though some back up would be appreciated."

"I think you misunderstand. She's my niece."

There was silence in the room. Wardog stared, his eyes wide with shock. Ribbentrop took the glass of brandy from Wardog's outstretched hand and returned it to the mini-bar.

"Niece…"

"Yes. My real name is Haines. As in Elenor Anna Haines." Gideon walked towards the stunned superhero. "You've been hunting my niece all this time." He paused. "My favourite niece."

"She killed…"

Gideon held up his hand. "I don't care what she did to you. She can do whatever she likes to you and your friends. My niece isn't accountable to the same laws of society as you and I. I am…" he paused again, "unhappy with this situation."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"I understand that. However you have created a very awkward situation. You have created a scenario that I will find very difficult to resolve. I've spoken to the Seven and they understand my anger."

Wardog looked to the faces of Engel, Denton, Ribbentrop and Blake for sympathy. He found none.

"My niece has been terrorised and hunted by your people. I consider that unacceptable." The only sound in the room was the ambient crackle of the log fire. Wardog shifted uncomfortably. "You have shown yourself to be unreliable. This personal vendetta of yours was never authorised. Quite apart from the fact that you targeted my niece, this entire affair was irrelevant in the greater scheme of things. You have compromised your position, your reputation and our investment. The Seven have discussed this and we've decided to demolish you. I suggest you don't give us any trouble. I assure you the alternative would be very painful." Gideon’s eyes were suddenly very cold and very cruel. "Now, Engel, if you would be so kind."

Engel nodded and as he did so, Wardog fell face first to the ground. He lay motionless, dead, with just a faint trace of blood leaking from his nose, mouth and ears.

"Thank you, Engel. Ms Denton, please be so kind as to call the servants to dispose of his body. Have it weighted down with rocks. Take one of the rowing boats out from the island and dump him somewhere for the fish to eat. And then come and join the rest of us in the living room. Mince pies and brandy butter will be served shortly." Gideon paused by the large wooden doors to the study. He still had his back turned to his business partners. "Oh, and a very Merry Christmas to you all. England Prevails."