Sarah dabbed her eyes carefully so as not to spread her mascara around. The emotion she had lacked at the morgue was being made up for tenfold.

Elizabeth Harrison's funeral was a pitiful sad affair. Not so much for the personal loss Sarah felt, but for the sorry state of the guests who had arrived. Only a handful of people stood around the open grave, listening intently to the words of the elderly vicar.

As Sarah glanced around, she recognised the older couple as the bookshop's nice, regular clients, but she didn't know either of the other two mourners. A tall man in his forties and a younger woman dressed in a rather inappropriate bright, pink raincoat. They stood apart from one another, so obviously they didn't know each other. Along with herself and Duncan, the whole group amounted to six people.

This is what had set off Sarah's tears. Elizabeth had lived a solitary life in England, leaving no family to see her go. She wondered who would be there at her own funeral when the time came. Duncan and Luke alone? Knowing her luck, those prats from Luke's work would probably show up just for the free booze at the wake.

Duncan's fingers brushed against her arm as he sought to hold her hand. She took it gratefully, enjoying the warmth of his skin on that cold, damp morning. She guessed that was it for the summer this year. Ten days of glorious sunshine, along with one bad storm and now the spell was broken. The weather had reclaimed its normality along with a chill breeze.

Sarah shivered and Duncan, who must have misread the cold she felt for a sob of tears, put his arm around her back and held her closer. She didn't pull away, she found the warmth of his friendship the perfect tonic for such a day.

The vicar finished the ceremony and each person dropped in their handful of dirt. The woman in the pink coat had brought along the single stem of a lily, she dropped this down, instead of the earth on the coffin.

Before leaving, the vicar spent some time talking to the tall man and Sarah strained to overhear their conversation. The vicar stretched his neck so that the man would hear his quiet words easier.

"I understand there's to be a gathering in the town centre for the guests? Would you like me to announce this, or will you be taking charge from here?"

The man nodded and shook the vicar's hand. Taking his leave, the vicar turned to give his farewells.

Now everyone was watching the tall man, waiting expectantly. Dressed in a long, dark coat, he came across as a real life Dickensian character. He looked at each of the mourners for a moment, then he addressed them in a brisk, business like fashion. His voice deep and rich.

"If you would care to join me, there is a small buffet prepared for lunch at the 'Maids Head' pub, here in Kings Lynn Market Place. It's not much I'm afraid, but I thought it would be nice to meet the people in my client's life. In particular, a Miss Laker?"

He searched around the pathetic group to spot a sign of recognition, turning from the pink coated lady to Sarah. She gave him a smile of acknowledgement, which he returned with a nod.

"Very well. I'll meet you all at the Maids Head then. Thank you."

Duncan spoke for all of them.

"Yes. Thank you, we'll be along in a while."

The tall man left, followed briefly by the older couple. The woman in the pink coat smiled at Sarah and came closer to speak to her. She had short, blonde hair and a fair, freckled complexion. She had a friendly face.

"So you're the famous Sarah Laker!"

Her words were twanged with the local accent, long vowels and lilting ends.

"Mrs Harrison talked ever so much about you and you're far prettier in real life."

"Oh!" Sarah blushed. "Thank you. How did you know Elizabeth?"

"Well, she's been my neighbour for yonks. I mean to say, she was my neighbour for ages. Strange woman. Kept herself to herself, you know? The only time she did stop for a quick word, she'd always mention her assistant, Sarah Laker."

Sarah and Duncan passed a quick look.

"Yes," Sarah replied carefully. "Quite a secretive lady."

Duncan rubbed his hands together, he probably felt the cold. He smiled at the woman and asked the very thing Sarah was about to.
"Are you coming with us to the pub?"

The lady shook her head and did up the darker coloured buttons on her garish garment.

"No, I suppose I'd better be getting off now. Got the kids to pick up from school for lunch today, dentist for all this afternoon. What fun, ey? Anyway, it was lovely to meet you, Sarah. Take care now."

"You too. Bye."

Once she'd left, Duncan rolled his eyes and dropped his head on Sarah's shoulder.

"Oh my God. Why does it take real 'Narfuk' people sooo looong to say just one sentence? I felt like throwing myself down there with the Dragon lady to shock that woman into speaking quicker."

Sarah elbowed him sharply in the ribs, causing him to gasp.

"You are a git, Duncs. Come on, let's get going."

"At last. Beer and grub. I'm bloody freezing."

They wandered, hand-in-hand back to Duncan's car. Sarah hadn't trusted hers to start that morning, let alone get them back home again. They drove the short distance from the cemetery to Tuesday Market Place, listening to K. L. F. M on the radio. The play list was old and never changed, but the 80's hits from their college days were comforting.

Duncan found a spot to park the car in the Market place, just a bit further down from the pub. The central carpark, which doubled as a market on a Tuesday, was a large square area, surrounded on all sides by buildings of varying ages. From the medieval lower roofed ones, like the Maids Head, to the taller, more elegant Georgian and Edwardian styles.

As they got out of the car, Sarah looked across the road and up at the stately building in front of them. A grand, red-bricked terrace of houses with a peculiar black diamond etched in black above a top floor window. She could see another shape inside the diamond, her heart started racing. She began to get shorter of breath.

The background noise of traffic and birds had disappeared. It was replaced by a mumble and chatter of a crowd. The odour of exhaust fumes and restaurants cooking lunch, dispersed by a stench of smoke.

Alarmed by this transformation and her own palpatations, Sarah quickly checked on Duncan who stood on the driver's side. He seemed to be static, frozen in time! Halfway through the motion of putting on his sunglasses, his hand caught motionless in midair. Even the breeze had stopped still, Duncan's hair unruffled.

Sarah's heart beat like it was fit to burst, banging on the inside of her chest. She could taste the metallic essence of the blood coursing through her. She should snap herself out of this, this whatever it was. But still she found herself drawn back to staring at that black diamond. She needed to know what the other shape was inside, compelled to get closer.

It took the same effort to move her legs to cross the road, as it did to move them through the water in a swimming pool. She almost waded through the air, her heart thumping harder with the strain. The noise of the invisible crowd of people became louder, growing with each of her languid steps. The shape showed clearer. Sarah finally focused on the design within the diamond. Her eyes trapped there, her breath stopped. A heart! It was a charred, black heart.

A car blared its horn at Sarah who stood in the middle of the road, bringing her back to reality with a shock. The world moved again. As did her lungs thank God.

The driver of the car lost his patience and wound down the window to shout at her.

"Oy! Come on darlin' get your head out the clouds."

Duncan grabbed her arm and dragged her back into the carpark. His face pale, his eyes wide.

"What the hell just happened?" He looked around the square of buildings, his expression frazzled and overwhelmed. "Jesus! One minute you're there." He pointed at the passenger side of the car. "The next you're standing in the middle of the fucking road like some dumb bloody animal. What the hell was that, Loopy?"

Sarah couldn't put her experience into words. She had lost the ability to form any kind of coherent explanation for what she'd just been through. She held onto Duncan's arms, gripping him tight. Her body ten times lighter and weaker.

" I, I honestly don't know!"

Duncan gave her a piercing glance, staring deep in her eyes.

"Are you sure you're alright?" His voice was softer now. "You up for this, Loops old girl? 'Cause if you want, we can just turn round and go home, you know?"

Seeing his concern, and gleaning her strength back from his proximity, Sarah nodded. The hazy, light-headedness wore off, the smells and sounds of the Market Place carpark came back to normal.

"If you're certain then. But one more of these weird flippin' superman moves and we're out of here, okay?"

Sarah smiled and squeezed his arms. When she answered her voice sounded tired.
"You bet."

The pair slowly walked over to the Maids Head. Sarah thoroughly enjoying the easy way she could now breath oxygen, in and out, in and out. Duncan held open the door to the pub for her to go in first. She rewarded him with a dashing smile.

The interior of the Maids Head was of a typical old English tavern. Low, wood-beamed ceilings and small, dark round tables and chairs set around the room. The daylight filtered softly through the many squares of glass within the windows. A few regulars sat perched at the bar. The haze from their cigarette smoke wafting along on the tide of the slow air. The jukebox in the corner was quietly playing Fleetwood Mac's 'Gypsy'.

The elderly couple from the cemetery came round the corner of the room and waved their welcome to the younger couple. Duncan raised his hand in reply and they made their way over to the rest of the wake.

A pair of tables had been pushed together so that they could comfortably fit around together and share the plates of sandwiches and sausage rolls. Partitions of original wooden booths separated the table areas. The tall man from the funeral sat nursing a dark beer and smoking a cigarette.

The male customer from the bookshop shook Duncan's hand and made the introductions.

"Nice of you to come. I'm Bill and this is my wife, Trudy. We know Miss Laker from the bookshop, and you are?"

"Duncan. Here for taxi and support."

Sarah and Duncan shook the couple's hands, all smiling pleasantly.

From the table, the tall man spoke up.

"And I'm Patrick Hill. Mrs. Harrison's solicitor. Please, come and sit down. The waitress will be around in a moment for your drink order."

The two couples settled down onto the well used chairs, while Patrick stubbed out his cigarette.

"I'm so glad you came to the funeral, Miss Laker." He concentrated on the ashtray while speaking. "It saved me the trouble of having to pay you a visit."

"Oh?" Sarah reached out for a cucumber sandwich, hoping that the calorie intake would give her back more energy. The clingy sensation of what had happened outside shrouded her mind, a fog of uncertainty held onto her.

"Yes, I have the papers here for you to look over for the transition of the shop deeds. Please, take them with you and let me know as soon as you can when you'd like us to get together and conclude the signatures."

With this, Patrick handed over a large, brown envelope to Sarah and stood up to go.

"Please, make the most of your bar tab everyone, Mrs. Harrison would have liked to know that someone arrived at her wake. I'll say my goodbyes."

"Thank you." Sarah put the envelope down on the table.

Once Patrick had left, the teenage waitress with an imitation 'Rachel' hairstyle and attitude, took their orders. The two couples chatted lightly and tucked into the spread. By the time they were given their drinks Sarah had found out that Bill and Trudy were locals born and bred and had been Elizabeth's first ever customers.

"Maybe you could help me with something, Trudy?" Sarah sipped her cider and flicked a quick glance at Duncan. "I was wondering about the buildings here in the Market Place. One at the end of the square in particular."

Trudy appeared to be on the same wavelength and immediately guessed what was on Sarah's mind.

"You mean the diamond heart, I suppose?" She almost whispered the question. "Now that's an old tale. Maybe just an old wives' tale even."

Trudy and Bill laughed together. But Sarah didn't feel like laughing.

"Yes. The black heart. What do you know about it?"

Under the table, out of view of the older couple, Sarah held tight to Duncan's hand, her palm sweaty.

Trudy took a big gulp of her half pint of beer and visibly prepared for the story.

"Well, my dear, it's not a very pretty tale to tell. But this here Market Place was were they used to burn the witches."

Sarah's blood ran cold.

"There was one in particular, a Margret Read they say, that swore she was innocent."

Bill interrupted. "Well, wouldn't you?"

Duncan joined him in laughter. Sarah stayed quiet. Trudy playfully slapped her husband on the thigh and continued.

"Well, as I was saying, this poor Margaret, I seem to remember it was 1590 ish, was burning at the stake when lo and behold the very thing she'd said would happen if they burnt her did go and happen."

"And what did happen?" Sarah could hardly get the words out of her mouth.

"The heat of the fire caused her heart to burst out of her body! That's what that black heart shape is all about inside the black diamond. That's where Margret Read's heart hit the building. Are you feeling alright dear? You look a bit queezy to me."