Chapter Six:
Emma Wayne, the deceased of a far away relative of the multi billionaire Bruce Wayne, also known as his niece is here to stay in Gotham. While the billionaires penthouse party impressed others, it seems like Emma and Wayne is of the same blood, and his here to stay…
Emma put down the magazine, and looked at the picture of her, which took up most of the space. He had done a good job, Master Wayne, by coming up with a cover story. Off course she couldn’t just walk into a billionaire’s life without any explanation.
“What’s this?” She asked, when Alfred came with her breakfast together with a clothing bag with a crest on it.
“Your uniform, Emma.” He said.
“Uniform?”
Alfred disappeared before she could get more answers out of him. She opened the bag, and realized it was a school uniform to Gotham’s elite school.
“I am sure they won’t bite.” Alfred said, when she entered the car. He had explained to her that she is not supposed to sit in front in a car with a driver, but in the bat. She still argued, but Alfred hadn´t lost yet.
“That is easy for you to say.” She said, and tried to keep the butterflies in her stomach under control.
“Here we are.” Alfred stopped by a majestic looking building in the same style as the mansion.
“Do you know what, maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” She said, and swallowed. Alfred went out of the car, and for a second she thought he was going to leave her there, but then he opened the door to the passenger seat, and slid in.
“There is something you must understand, and sooner the better; you are supposed to be Master Wayne’s niece. That means you have to act like her.”
“I know Alfred, but what if I fail?”
Alfred’s expression softened, and he took her hand. “Why do we fall, Emma?” She didn’t answer. “So we can learn to build ourselves up.” He smiled, and patted her hand. “You’ll be just fine.”
“Thanks Alfred.”
“Your very welcome, now get out before you’re late.” She nodded, and opened the door.
Feeling rather small she walked through the halls, and heard people whisper and look at her. When she entered her English class, the teacher had just arrived.
“Oh, you must be Ms. Wayne?” The teacher sang. She wore a marine suite and four inch heels, with her hair drawn back in a bun.
It took Emma a few seconds to respond to the way the teacher addressed her, and when she did the rest of the class giggled. “Uh… yes!”
“Well, welcome. Please take a seat.” The teacher continued. It was strange because Emma wasn’t used to please and Ms at a school.
“Sorry I am late.” She mumbled and slid down on a seat at the second row. The classrooms were different too; everyone had their computer, the desks looked like they were made of mahogany with special carvings and were much bigger than regular school desks.
Nobody talked to her through the day. Well, except the teacher, who were quite good. And when she said nobody, she meant absolutely nobody.
Alfred picked her up after school, and when he did she didn’t even argue about the front-seat-back-seat thing.
“How was school?” Master Wayne was the first one to say something at the dinner table. It was one of the more rare occasions she dined with him. Usually Alfred was the one keeping her company, while he was out dining with his rich billionaire friends. Covering up for Batman.
“Fine.” She said, but she must have ratted herself out, because he said: “You look a little pale.”
“Simply performance anxiety, right?” Alfred said. Pouring his master some red wine.
“Yeah.” She said, and stuffed some mini potatoes into her mouth.
When Emma slid under the covers that night, she couldn’t help but to think about the rich people who all stared at her as if she was from another planet. They thought she was the niece of Bruce Wayne, but the truth was that she had nothing. The clothes, the cars and even the Cartier around her wrist weren’t hers. Tomorrow was the last day before the weekends, and she was rather relived.
The next day Emma got up early and did all her morning duties in a hurry. She might have exaggerated a bit, because when Alfred entered the dining hall at 06.00, she was tapping her fingers at the table.
“Tell me, Emma; is your watch broken?” He said.
She was smart enough to catch the sarcasm in his voice so she didn’t say anything.
“I’ll pick you up at half past three.” Alfred said as she exited the car in front of her school.
“I can’t convince you to let me be home, can I?” She said.
“Not in my lifetime.” Alfred said, in his British accent. With that he was gone.
Emma made her way to her classroom, studying her timetable on the way. When she entered she almost got hit by a notebook, and looked up to see a full spectacle. The teacher stood on a stool and cried out: “Help! Someone? please help!” While the rest of the class laughed their heads out.
Her eyes landed on a cat, looking curiously up at the teacher. It couldn’t be more than a few months old, but the teacher seemed like she was horrified.
Emma stood there for a second, before picking the kitten up in one swift motion, and carried it outside.
“Professor, it is gone now.” One of the more silent girls spoke hesitantly.
“I think I am going to die, I am dying.”
“Are you alright?” The girl spoke again. The rest of the class hadn’t stopped laughing yet.
“No! Just get out, get out! Class dismissed.” The teacher screamed, still in shock.
“But professor, what are we supposed to do then?” The same shy girl spoke, and the others looked like they wanted to kill her.
“I don’t know! Go home!” The professor said, and tried to chase everyone out with her hands. Every girl in the room bolted out the door, while Emma was carried away with them, and ended up alone in the hall. She looked at the watch, and noticed she hadn’t been there for more than forty minutes. Alfred wouldn’t come in hours. She would have called him, only if it weren’t for the fact that she didn’t have a phone… and she could have lied and barrowed another one’s, but then she remembered she didn’t even know the number. “Excuse me, do you know the number for Wayne Manor?” It sounded stupid, even in her own mind.
Emma looked down the road and tried to calculate the distance. Alfred usually spent around fifteen minutes, depending on the traffic. It couldn’t be more than a few miles. Emma secured her school bag, and began the long walk home. She remembered the way, because of the one thing she was proud of; her photographic memory. It was harder in the city though, because of all the people and the lights. Shabby looking men were staring at her; the uniform and her watch. She covered it with her blazer, and walked determined to the other side of the road. But as the colour of the light changed to red an old, blind lady were about to pass.
“No, stay back!” She said instinctively, and tugged in her shoulder.
“Get off me you scum! Get off me! Help! Help! I am being attacked!” She panicked, and began hitting her with an umbrella.
Before she knew it she hit the ground, and two police officers held her down.
“You are under arrest for aggravated assault and thievery. You have the right to remain silent…”
Something warm and wet ran down from the back of her head, and she felt herself slip out of consciousness.
