// Van \\

542 21 11
                                    


I struggled to concentrate because Isabelle was curled up in the arm chair in the corner of my study. She had her legs over one arm and with every wriggle her skirt fell a little further, revealing a little more of her. If I hadn't known any better I'd have thought she was doing it on purpose because every time she let out a sigh, every time she fidgeted I'd catch her eyes glance up at me, as if to check that I was looking.

I struggled to swallow when she caught me watching her. She couldn't have known what she was doing, we'd always done our best to keep her sheltered from all that, from all the mess that came with being a girl in our family.

I held her gaze, tried to remember who was in control here, tried to be the man I knew she needed me to be. She might not have known it but she needed me to be a man who could concentrate on his work, not one who got distracted by the slight rise of a 16 year olds skirt.

I smirked when she returned to her book almost instantly, still to shy to hold my gaze, still the Isabelle I knew. For now at least.

It worried me a little, seeing her like that, playing with her hair, looking up at me from under her lashes, trying to get my attention in a way she didn't need to.

I usually enjoyed the time she was left in my care, the time we had together just us, sitting quietly. I liked looking up from my work to watch her kicking her legs back behind her head on the rug. Reading the same few books over and over again. I didnt understand how she could adore a story as much as she adored some of the ones I'd seen her reading. Enough to read them over and over and over again, as if she was studying them, as if she was drinking down every last drop.

"No," I yawned into the phone when it rang, Bondy on the other end of the line. He was dealing with the mess Blakes and the girls had left at the Reids, "I don't care," i said glancing over at his little sister once again, hoping my next words would go over her head, "sink em,"

On the other end of the line Bondy chuckled, nodded along. He'd known all along that I would say that. And then he asked me how she was, whether she seemed happy. That was always how he asked me.

"Is she smilin?" he asked and I glanced up at her, locked eyes with her, shot her a wink I knew would paint her cheeks red and make it impossible for to hold back a shy smile.

"Yeah," I grinned, "she's serene,"

I didn't realise that I wasn't quite telling him the truth however. I only noticed the way she chewed on her lip, the way she hadn't really been concentrating on her book until Bondy started telling me about what was actually left of the Reids red light district now.

"I've been talkin to the firebrigade," he said, he sounded tired too but his mind was alert and buzzing, "your Jimmys still with them int he and theyve said as long as it had owt do with you theyre willing to turn a blind eye... Make out like it was a faulty electrical appliance, one them industrial microwaves they've got or somet..." he said and I wondered whether anyone would really believe that.

Because we'd burnt the whole building down and everybody in Manchester knew we were at war again.

"Everyone will still know who did it,"

"But they won't be able to prove anythin," i could hear Bondy grinning. I knew he loved this part. The cover up. The intricate plan disguised as nothing but an accident.
He was brilliant at making things disappear.

"alrate lad," i grinned, "alrate I'll see you this evenin,"

Isabelle looked up again, I caught her watching me intensely, she was listening in, she wanted to here from her brother.

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