In This Life

(6) Proverbs 25:28

A man without self-control is like a city broken into and left without walls.

"I'll admit, I'm a bit shocked to see you." Beatrice's father admitted. It had been some years since they'd seen each other and the last time they did see one another, he was belittling her before she got on her plane to boarding school. "We'll if we're being honest, I was hoping not to see you." Beatrice's father kissed his teeth as the car came to a halt. Somehow, he had convinced her to come back to the house for dinner, to catch up. Which Beatrice knew he had an ulterior motive but even after all the time that had passed, he still had that fatherly intimidation.

The house hadn't changed. The massive front courtyard in perfect condition, the occasional butler walking the grounds, the exterior brickwork clean like it was just built and her mother, waiting at the top of the concrete steps to greet them. The only thing that had changed was the type of flower beds scattered about. Beatrice could feel the chills running down her spine and had to resist the overwhelming urge to steal the car and take off but alas, she calmly exited the car with a deep breath. When her mother had seen her father she brandished a warm smile, which almost made her look like a wax statue. That smile soon turned into an unreadable expression when her gaze moved over to her daughter.

Her parents were very pristine. Cares highly for looks and appearances not only to the public eye, but to themselves as well. Her mother, Eleanor was originally from Malaysia but had moved to the United Kingdom for work and academics. She was around five foot four and had long black hair with dashes of grey. She never wore much makeup when Beatrice was young but she could see the red lipstick from the bottom of the stairs. Eleanor was wearing a long cream dress with a white overcoat and a pair of white flats, her usual casual attire.

Her father, Preston was a bit more extravagant with his looks. Slicked back brunette hair which looked recently dyed, and a well kept beard which had hints of grey until his hair, his usual clothing was always a suit, today he was wearing a blue suit with a wine red tie. Born in Westminster, he attended Oxford university and had met Eleanor when they were in their last years. They had been together since and had Beatrice after they settled down into the very house they stood at.

"What a surprise." Eleanor said slowly as Beatrice reached the top step. "Hello, mother." She hummed back in response before giving her father a quick kiss. "Tea?" Beatrice shook her head but once she was seated inside a tea was waiting in the table for her. Which was an obvious attempt to cause a problem. "Tell us, how have you been? The convent treating you well?" Preston asked to break the tension in the room. "I've been fine, despite the circumstances but fine nonetheless." Beatrice wanted to really tell them how much she hated them for what they did, but she knew that getting heated would mean they win.

Beatrice would not give them the satisfaction of knowing they had gotten under her skin.

"How about you both. I'm sure I've missed quite a bit because of my absence." Beatrice swiftly diverted the conversation away from her for the time being. She knew the evening would eventually turn sour as it always did with the three of them but she'd rather delay it until after she'd eaten. One of the only things she missed about home was the cooking. "Ah yes. You're father is now the local MP for our county. Very demanding work but he's been tackling it brilliantly. Myself, I'm the new clerk of house at parliament." Eleanor spoke in a boasting manner, exaggerating almost every sentence. Beatrice didn't notice just how condescending her mother truly could be until this moment. "Darling, why don't you tell her about Daniel." Preston chipped one as he stood and walked to the back of the living room. Where Beatrice knew he would retrieve a cigar. Which he did and sat back down on the armchair. "Daniel?" The ex-nun hadn't known of any Daniel in their social circle. Not even a relative.