"YOU"
(part One of Two)

Setting the scrapbook and pencil aside, Emma looked at Sammie and sighed, shaking her head. "Sam, I really can’t. I don’t think dad would like it. It’s kinda like cheating," she said softly as they sat on Sammie’s large two-poster bed, schoolbooks and notebooks and pens scattered all over.

The pretty redhead sighed and rolled her eyes. "I knowwww it’s like cheating, well, it IS cheating, period... but can’t you do it for me? Just this once?? You know I’ll have a problem with that test," she said, pouting like a little girl.

"I know you have a hard time with essay tests, Sammie, but I just can’t, I hate making him mad. Don’t be mad at me." Emma gave her a pleading look. "I wish I could, honest!"

For a moment, Sammie really found herself mad at her best friend, and she shook her head in disappointment, casting her a side look. Still, she did know what happened to Em if she broke the rules. Confused, she just sighed and mumbled, "I would for you," still hugging her pillow.

Emma hung her head. "Maybe I should get home for supper," she just said. Her little heart was being torn in two. Disappoint her friend, or help her and disappoint her dad?

"Yeah maybe," said Sammie bitterly.

She knew, she just freaking knew she was going to fail her test... her dyslexia problem was kept in check, yes, but when she was under pressure she got nervous... and why didn’t Emma wanted to help? She always had. She understood her reasons of course, her trying to straighten out her habits and attitude and everything, but it still looked mean to her eyes.

"But think about it, pllllease?" she gave her best puppy-eyes as Emma collected her things and stuffed them in her book bag.

Her eyes now filling with tears, Emma shook her head no. "I’m sorry Sammie, I just can’t, I’m so sorry!"

The look on Sammie’s face was unmistakably hurt now, and Emma couldn’t stand it. She finished packing her things and left in a hurry, almost knocking over Mrs. Turtledove, who was approaching her daughter’s room carrying a tray with sandwiches and orange juices.

"Emma, but..."

"Bye Annie I’m a hurry sorry!" she blurted and rushed out of the door in a flash, almost slamming it behind her.

Surprised to say the least, the woman quirked her eyebrows and still walked in her daughter’s room, only to find a distraught and crestfallen girl sitting on her bed hugging her pillow.

"Sammie, what happened?" she asked, leaving the tray on the bed and walking up to her, but Sammie shook her head and sent her away with a quick wave.

"Nuthin’ mum, just leave me alone, k?"

Annie sighed. "Alright honey... but if anything’s the matter, I’d like to talk about it... and I got this little snack just for the two of you."

"I’m not eating," Sammie said, and lay down on her bed.

"Are you sure you don’t want to talk, sweetie?" Annie sat down by her.

"Well I can’t tell you everything," Sammie said, sniffling a little, "but Em and I kinda fought."

"Honey, you can always tell me everything." Annie pulled her daughter onto her lap.

Sammie started to cry quietly as she rested her head on her mum’s chest. "It’s about tomorrow’s test, you know... I’m scared because when I get nervous... well, you know what happens..." she whispered.

"Oh Sammie, why did you fight with Emma about that?" Annie rubbed her daughter’s back, speaking softly.

"Well ‘cuz I... she... oh mummyyy promise you wont get mad??" she said, casting her an imploring look.

"Darling, I can’t promise that. But I *can* promise to love you always and listen to what you need to tell me."

More or less reassured by that half promise, Sammie took a deep breath and said: "Well I kinda... you know... sorta asked Em if she could help me tomorrow..." and she buried her face in her mum’s chest again.

"Darling, you asked your friend to cheat for you? That is not nice, and it’s naughty to, do you know that?" Annie continued to rub Sammie’s back.

Sammie nodded and kept sniffling. "I do know mummy but do you think it’s fair that I fail the test ‘cuz of this damn brain thing?" she growled.

"No, I don’t think it’s fair, but I know that you will do your best no matter what and I will be proud of you. It was wrong to ask that of Em, she could get in very big trouble at school, not to mention with her dad."

Sammie nodded. "Y-yeah she said she’s not gonna do it anyway ‘cuz she’s too scared to disappoint him... and you know how Alan deals with that," she added, a note of bitter irony in her tone.

Annie nodded too and gave a heavy sigh. "Well, I can’t say I agree 100% with Alan, but maybe some changes do need to be made around here. You can’t do this Sammie, it’s very naughty. I... I..." she took a deep breath. "I think mummy needs to spank you."

For a moment, Sammie couldn’t believe her ears. It took a while to register in her little mind what had been said. Then she looked up in her mother’s eyes and saw that she wasn’t kidding, and her tears started flowing again. She couldn’t say nothing.

Annie hugged her daughter tight. "I love you a whole lot, Sammie, but you have to be good, do you understand?" Without waiting for an answer, she just turned the girl over her lap, then paused. Not sure what to do, she just raised her hand and gave five half-hearted, pert spanks to her jeans-clad bottom, then stopped and again pulled Sammie onto her lap. "There, now be my sweet girl," she said, hugged her tight.

Sammie was so shocked about that all that she didn’t move, or do anything at all, as her mother put her across her knees and "spanked" her... did she call that a spanking? She knew how a spanking was, but she couldn’t say that to her, no way! This made her feel even worse and even more let down, and she wept hard as Annie rubbed her back, rocking her, wishing she understood better what was wrong.

* * *

That night, Emma was feeling so upset and so guilty that she decided to punish herself. She put on her pyjamas so she’d be ready for bed, then went to the corner, sniffling, her nose pressed to the wall. It was just about ten in the evening when Alan walked up to her bedroom to wish goodnight, and once he opened the door... he saw there in the corner, sniffling quietly, not moving. Again he wondered what had happened, and, quite worried, rushed to her.

"Emmy, honey, what’s wrong?"

"Daddy, I feel so horrible, I’ve been bad, but I was only trying to help!" she wailed, jumping into his loving arms as her tears started to flow.

"There, there, calm down baby, calm down..." he said, taking her in his arms and carrying her to the bed. He sat down and sat her on his lap, looking into her teary eyes and brushing her hair with soft touches of his hands. "Wanna tell me what’s wrong, hmm?"

"Sammie has so much trouble with essay tests, and I’ve been helping her for a lot of years, and that’s cheating, but I was just trying to help! And she asked me again to do it tomorrow, but I said no, ‘cuz you would be sad and now she’s mad at me." Emma poured her heart out to him in one long wail, then resumed crying.

Alan nodded, and exhaled, partly happy that it was "just" that, but still quite confused. "Well, Em, I see how you mean... that’s very naughty to cheat on tests, whatever the purpose is... so is this why you’re sad? Because you fought with Sammie?"

Emma nodded. "I can’t decide whether to help her and be naughty or not help her and have her mad at me!" she buried her face in Alan’s chest.

Again Alan nodded, and he kissed the top of her head: that must have looked like one HUGE problem in Emma’s life, and he felt strongly for her. "Seems like you already made a choice."

"I... I guess so," Emma nodded. "Daddy, it feels so horrible, I’m such a bad girl to cheat and I’m a bad friend!"

He detached from her and looked in her eyes. "You aren’t a bad girl, you just made mistakes in the past breaking rules you know you shouldn’t have broken. And you’re not a bad friend. Sammie will understand and she will respect you even more, don’t you think?"

"I don’t know daddy! I left, she was mad and I don’t blame her! I always have before, and it’s so hard for her!"

"... Emma, I don’t know about your parents, but it’s not okay with me that you cheat or help someone do it. Have you been doing it also after moving in with me?"

Emma shook her head no. "No sir, this is the first one that has come up so far. I thought I was doing the right thing, sorta, ‘cuz I was helping her, but then I thought tonight that YOU wouldn’t like it."

Alan nodded, and sighed again, thinking it all through. He kissed her forehead and held her close. "You did the right thing, honey, you did the right thing... and you must learn that sometimes doing the right thing will cost you a lot, with the ones you love."

"But she’s my best friend!" Emma wailed. "And now you’re upset anyways I bet! I just plain screwed myself!" she bopped a pillow.

He restrained her hands and tried to calm her down before she hurt herself. "Emma!" he snapped. "Sammie’s going to understand, trust me. And I’m only a little upset with you, but I’m very proud you did the right thing."

Emma jumped when he snapped. "Daddy, I want her to forgive me, and I don’t want a spanking, and I *like* to bop the pillow!"

This time he really couldn’t help but smile. "Okay, do bop the pillow, as long as you don’t bop me... she will forgive you, and as far as I’m concerned, you don’t deserve a spanking."

Emma stopped in her tracks. "I don’t? But... but I cheated, for a long time, and that’s bad." she looked so confused.

"Yes that’s bad, but it seems to me you have learnt your lesson already. I’ll explain it to you: why are you not cheating this time?" he said, looking at her straight in her eye.

"‘Cuz I know it’s wrong, and then I’d get spanked." she whispered. "Daddy, I’m so confused."

"Exactly. So, as you see, it worked already. The moment you predict what behaviour will earn you a spanking and are able to avoid it, then you’re growing up, and you need less and less punishment. If you were ‘a bad girl’ and didn’t care, you’d just go ahead and cheat tomorrow, but if you don’t, it means you already know and learnt it’s wrong. Do you follow me?"

"I guess so," she whispered. "But why do I feel so bad inside then? I feel all guilty," she snuggled close.

"It’s because you feel like you let Sammie down, honey," he spoke softly, kissing her head again, knowing she liked that. "Say, would it make you feel better if you cheated? Just answer this."

"No, I’d feel rotten if I cheated," Emma whispered.

"So you see there’s no way out," he explained. "Whatever you do, you’ll still feel bad, right?"

Emma nodded. "Are you sure you aren’t disappointed?" she whispered. "I hate it when you’re disappointed."

"I’m not disappointed, and what you’re facing now is just life... sometimes there is no way out, because whatever you do, you’ll still hurt someone. What do you do then? Well, there is not an answer. I can only tell you, ‘do as your heart tells you to do’, and then face the consequences for your actions. If tomorrow in class you will feel like cheating, do that, but you will be spanked when you get home, and very hard at that. If you feel like being a good, honest girl, choose that, and know that Sammie might be a bit angry at you."

Emma found little comfort in his words, but found plenty in his arms and he held her close. Within a few moments, she had cried herself to sleep.

After feeling her breath go heavier and heavier, Alan moved her cautiously and placed her into bed, tucking her in like you do a little girl. She kissed her forehead and left the room, thinking that the new day would bring a very tough choice for Emma indeed.

* * *

At one o’clock in the afternoon, the following day, Emma entered the kitchen, still holding her bottom, something she had done ever since leaving school, twenty minutes earlier.

"Dad? I.... I..." she hung her head, not quite sure what to say: dad, I picked my friend over you? dad, your opinion means nothing?. She felt like a total piece of sh... err... crap. Wow, now she was even starting to *think* with good language!

As soon as he saw her, Alan knew something was wrong -- when Emma held her bottom, she usually feared a spanking, it had become an instinctive reflex she just could not help, apparently. "Emmy, what’s wrong? Did anything happen?" he asked, though he was afraid he already knew.

Emma nodded, a great hiccup escaping. "I... did it. One last time. I just had to dad, and I’m so sorry, don’t be sad and think I don’t care about what you think!" she exclaimed very quickly.

Alan exhaled, and though he tried to hide it, he was sure his disappointment transpired from his face. He took a chair out from under the table and sat down, shaking his head a little, but then he looked up at Emma and smiled, and beckoned her over opening his arms. "C’mere sweetie."

She hurried over, looking distressed. "It’s the last time, I promise, and I know I’m gonna get a big spanking, but she was struggling so hard! I really do care about what you think, I swear! Don’t be sad! I always care about what you think, please don’t be sad!" It was rather apparent that she cared more about hurting his feelings then for her own backside, which she already knew was doomed.

Struck by such attitude in her, Alan felt his heart literally broken to pieces. For a moment he imagined just kissing her forehead and cuddle her and forget about it all, but he knew he would give out an awful message, teaching her she could get her way with things and not face the consequences for her actions.

"Emmy, honey... is that the choice you did, rationally?" he spoke softly.

She looked up, frowning a bit. "I’m confused," she mumbled, embarrassed to not understand what he was talking about.

"I’m sorry. I mean: did you weigh the choices you had and did that one? Why did you choose that? The loyalty towards your friend prevailed, or... what?" He meant to make her state loud and clear why she had done that, and mostly that it had been a deliberate choice.

"I thought so hard, I really did," Emma started slowly. "It was so hard to chose. Make you think I don’t give a crap... can I say that?... for the rules and what is proper in school. Cheating isn’t good, and I know that. But dad, she was in tears almost. And her hands were shaking, and she kept twisting her hair around, she always does that when she’s upset. I.... I couldn’t let her suffer like that. So I told her, just this one last time, and I’d tutor her or find a good one or something, but this would be THE very last time. She was just hurting and so upset dad, I couldn’t make it any worse for her." She buried her face in Alan’s chest and cried.

"I understand," he just said: he had heard what he wanted to hear. "So, in short, Emma, you knew what you did was wrong and you did it anyway, for Sammie? A simple yes or no will suffice."

She nodded, another hiccup coming out.

"Alright. And after you did what you knew was the wrong thing, you came right to me and confessed it, is that right?" he said, again speaking very soothingly.

"Yes sir," she whispered and gulped. "Can... can I have some milk? Please? Sorry, not trying to distract you, just thirsty."

Alan nodded, and stood her up from his lap. "Yes of course honey, help yourself... but then come right back here, we’re not through talking yet."

Emma gave a small nod and poured herself a half a glass of milk and came back over to sit on his lap. "Can I have lunch before I get spanked?" she asked with a whimper.

He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead, quite taken aback that she spoke of it so candidly. "Yes, of course. Are you sure you don’t want it got over with, though?"

Emma shook her head no. "I wanna eat, if I can first, sit and eat, hard to stand and eat. And I know I’m in the hugest hugest trouble ever," she squeaked.

"I understand..." he said. "And NO, no, no, you are not the hugest trouble. I’m going to tell you what you’re in for before your spanking, but not now. Let’s just eat, okay?" he said with a smile.

"Daddy, are you hurt?" she whispered, tears beginning to slowly leak from her pretty eyes. "Did I hurt you?... did I?..."

Alan shook his head. "All the contrary, little one." He kissed her cheek and dried her tears delicately. "Eat now."

Still looking forlorn and rather frightened, not to mention confused, Emma went to her own chair and ate as best she could, mostly picking at her food, drinking more than anything, she was feeling so thirsty. Throughout lunch, Alan tried to keep a low profile too, basically eating, and asking other things about school here and there. But he too kept it short, and as soon as they were through, he stood and cleaned the table. Then he made his way upstairs, but not before holding out his hand for Emma to grab.

Emma grabbed his hand, holding it close and tight. "I love you daddy."

"I love you too, sweetheart." They entered Emma’s bedroom, and Alan sat on the bed with Emma standing in front of him. Without speaking, he unsnapped and unbuttoned her khakis gave them a firm tug; they fell down to her ankles.

Emma shivered at the change in temperature, but left her hands at her sides, her head hanging in shame. Never ever had she been so very disappointed in herself. She had done wrong for a good reason, but that didn’t make it right! And she had known that and done it anyways! God, she was so stupid sometimes.

Nonetheless, Alan meant this to be a truly important lesson to Emma, and he knew this was the moment for one of the important father/daughter talks in their life. And as he noticed, Em tended to be more receptive of those talks when a spanking was impending, so he drew her underwear down too, and then held her hands as he spoke.

"Daddy, can I cover myself?" she blurted out, completely shamed.

"Emmy... I want you to know that I’m proud of you. You may not understand it now, but I am. I am not saying you did the right thing, in point of fact, you didn’t... yes you can," he conceded.

She quickly covered herself with her hands, thoroughly embarrassed to be seen that way, even though she was sort of used to it by now. But she was growing up and that was a terrible blow to be dealt, maybe worse then the coming spanking would be. "Why are you proud?"

"Because in doing something wrong, you did it in the most responsible way there is. You had two choices, and made one, and did not try to escape the consequences for your actions. You chose to help Sammie even though you knew it went against my rules, and I can’t blame you for that... but I will still spank you, and very soundly, because I want you to know that an action brings to a reaction. If I let you off now, you would be even more disappointed, in me and in yourself. But as much as I hate to do that, I will punish you for your action, because you knew it was wrong to do that when you did it, whatever the reason."

Emma just nodded, wondering if he would tell her what all he was going to do to her poor quivering bottom. Her face was brick red, and her hands still covered her private place. And truth be told, she had missed about half of what he had said, because she was too mortified to concentrate. After a few seconds Alan realised that as well: this half-naked child here before him was too scared to truly listen to what he had to say, and he hoped she would understand it better after the actual spanking. So he gently, but firmly, took her hands and guided her down across his lap, so that she rested comfortably and her small, pert bare bottom faced the ceiling.

Her hands quickly flew back to cover. "Daddy, wait! Don’t....don’t..." she hiccuped. "Don’t spank me too too too too bad, like, you know, really bad." She felt horrible and all she could think of was that she had been so bad that he may really spank her hard and hurt her bottom much worse then ever before, maybe even leave marks!

"Emmy, you know I hate to do this, don’t you?" he said, gently taking away her hands, hoping he didn’t have to lock them in his if she brought them back again. "And though I’m not going to spank you very hard, it will still be a spanking you will remember for a long time, I can assure you that, sweetie." With that, he slowly rubbed her bottom cheeks, then raised his hand.

Emma shrieked, suddenly very frightened by his words and knowing there was no way out now, but Alan steeled his heart and smacked down his hand across both of her bare cheeks with a loud WHACK!, then paused to see the hand-print appear.

Emma burst into tears, more from fear and humiliation than pain, her cheeks bouncing from the impact. "I’m so sorry!" she exclaimed. Not that she thought the spanking would stop, but just because she felt she could never tell him that enough. Yet again, she had proved she was a screw-up.

Trying to ignore her crying, Alan raised his hand again and proceeded to spank her again and again. A shower of smacks, fast and quite hard, fell on Emma’s bare behind, his large hand not missing an inch, from the top of her buttocks to the upper part of her thighs. He spanked in this fashion for more than two straight minutes.

Emma was kicking by then, howling and hollering and screeching and crying. Her hands flew back just before the two minutes were up. "Daddy, stop, no, can take no more," she sobbed out.

Just when Alan was about to stop, he had to grab her hands and pin them to the small of her back. After that, he resumed and finished it up, delivering some ten more smacks as he planned, only, a little bit harder. Then he stopped, and freed Emma’s hands and let her cry her poor heart out. And cry it all out she did, for Emma bawled, nearly hysterical, squirming and bucking, not even realising it was over yet.

Alan tried to soothe her and help her breathing regularly again by rubbing her back. "Easy, easy..." he said.

Then, seeing she wasn’t calming down at all, he gathered her up in his arms and held her shaking, sobbing little frame tight to his body. This always made her feel better and almost instantly calm and reassured, so she clutched his shirt in her trembling hands and bawled like a toddler, quickly soaking a spot on his shirt with her tears.

He hugged her so tight he was afraid she might pop. She was really shaking, and he knew it was only half from the spanking: the hurt she had was inside. "Honey, you’re taking it well, breathe slowly, c’mon..."

"Bad, I so bad, no good, nothing, no good all," she muttered, more out of habit as it coincided with her feelings then that he would think such things.

"No, no and no, that’s not true," he kept repeating her, hoping to get to her someway. "You’re a good girl, I’m so proud of you, hey, weren’t you listening, before?"

Oblivious to his words, she buried her face in the crook of his neck. She stopped muttering at least, but could hardly hear him over her own sobs and hiccups. Alan thought it better to just say nothing until her crying had eased down, and so he just waited, patiently, rocking her back and forth and kissing her forehead and top of her head. After a moment or two she eventually calmed down, but still clutched his shirt, her face nuzzled in by his neck. Her body stopped trembling, and her breathing became more normal.

When he noticed she was calmer and her crying had died down a bit, Alan broke the hug and looked at her, smiling. "Emmy, I’m not through with your spanking, yet. But, again: do you understand why you are being spanked?"

Emma looked heartbroken at the announcement that it wasn’t over. "Yes sir," she whispered. She had made a bad choice, she had screwed up, she was a bad child, a horrible daughter. That was why.

Alan simply nodded too, deciding this wasn’t the proper time to talk... the spanking had to be carried out, and then it would be time for words and explanation. "Come on, honey, let’s get it over with, shall we?" he said, looking in her hazel eyes again. She just whimpered, looking horrified and frightened. "Back over my lap, Emmy, come on," Alan prompted her again.

Emma tried to move, and the hiccups return. "You do," she whispered. She just couldn’t bring herself to do it, to willingly let herself be spanked more. She was already hurting a lot, even though it was never as bad as it felt.

He kissed her forehead and nodded. "Okay, honey." And he took hold of her small frame and draped her back over his lap; but this time he placed her slightly more forward, almost on the edge of his knees, so that her body was laying a few inches farther from his chest than usual.

Alan also let Emma’s legs drop over, practically bending her over his left knee only, her upper body resting on the bedspread. The young teenager clutched her bear, which was close enough to grab and buried her face in the bedspread.

Sighing at that oh-so-heartbreaking sight, Alan still did what he had planned to: trying not to make a big show out of it, he unbuckled his belt and removed it from its loops. Emma didn’t hear anything, just shuddered, her rosy bottom quivering and tensing over his knees.

Alan doubled the belt over and held it in his hand, grabbing it half-way through one end and the other, as to shorten the distance between his grip and the part of the belt which would impact on Emma’s bottom.

"Emmy, turn around and look at me, please."

Emma, slowly moved her head to look at him. Her jaw dropped and her face paled, then she hurriedly buried her face in the bedspread once more. She couldn’t even look at it! Oh god, what had she done! Shaking his head and taking a deep breath, Alan raised the belt and whipped it down across Emma’s buttocks. He considered she had never been strapped before, so he kept it a mild and quite controlled smack... though he was sure she could not tell the difference.

And notice it she did, for Emma first choked as a sob caught in her throat, then screamed: "Yeooowwwwwwww!!".

Alan didn’t wait, and quickly laid a second whack, lower, so that it wouldn’t land upon the previous one. CRACK!

Emma’s hands turned white at the knuckles as she gripped the bedspread. "Ooooooohhhhhh!" she let out a long, pitiful howl.

Though she was in so much pain, Alan steeled his heart and kept it up: he had planned to give her a demonstration of how the belt was like, and so he whipped her twice more, across her thighs, then dropped the instrument and let her cry out.

But Emma did more than that, for she reached back and grabbed his shirt, hard, at the chest with a shaking hand. She was gasping and shuddering. "D... da... dad... daddy," she gasped out, clearly panicking and hardly able to breathe.

Alan quickly turned her over and gathered her in his arms. He inspected her face, checking for signs of something serious – he saw none, but the girl was clearly having a panic attack, and so he held her tight to him, giving her the rhythm to breathe at, rubbing her back slowly and constantly, humming to her.

Finally, her breathing seemed to calm down, and the panic attack passed, leaving a very weak, but very angry Emma. Never in her life she had felt so outraged and hurt, and anger mounted inside her just like the old times, when her father hit her, when her mother bellowed and criticised her and ignored her again and again.

With one swift motion, she pushed herself off Alan’s lap and wrapped a blanket around her exposed body. "GET. OUT."

Alan was completely taken aback at this. At first he didn’t understand what she had done and said, and then, when he did, he shook his head in disbelief. "Wh-what...?" he stuttered.

Her face was set firmly, despite being a rather odd colour, thanks to her panicking. "Get out. Now," she hissed, pointing to the door of her room, her eyes full of pain and shock.

Out of instinct, Alan rose from her bed. First thing he felt was anger, for being spoken to with such disrespect. Then a wave of other feelings, all different and mixed up, flushed over him, as he realised that nothing was going like it was supposed to be going. He wondered if the spell had been broken. After several seconds – which seemed like an eternity, though – his reason overcame his emotions, and he walked slowly out of her bedroom.

He turned around at the last minute, though, saying: "Em... are you alright?"

"What do you think??" she snapped. "I said GET OUT!"

If he wasn’t hurt before, he was now. Again shaking his head, he walked out of the bedroom and closed the door.

Emma threw a pillow at the door and let the blanket fall. She had never been so hurt in her life. Not even by her parents. She changed into a night-gown, leaving her panties off. It hurt to even move much, and that only made her more aware of the pain in her heart. But she had dug her own grave, she had done this to herself and she’d have to live with it. Maybe she didn’t deserve any better. She wasn’t worth someone’s love, after all. Grabbing her pillow and her bear, she plopped into her walk-in closet. The damn closet was large enough to have fit a twin bed inside had someone wanted to! Curling up in a ball in one corner, she tried hard to fall asleep and shut the world out, just wanting to stay in there forever.

On the other side of the door, Alan didn’t know what to do. He stayed outside Emma’s bedroom for a long time, probably just some minutes, but which felt like hours. He didn’t even consider knocking and asking to be let back in, since he knew very well that wasn’t even an option. So, after a while, he just made his way back downstairs, confused and hurt and puzzled, and flung himself down on the sofa, taking his head in his hands.

"What have I done?," he whispered to himself.

click here for pictures of Emma and Alan