John Watson's Daughter 2

The Dinner

Emily's POV
I stare into the mirror. I don't look too good to be honest. I'm so tired. Ok then, I won't stay there too long. Mycroft will understand, right?

Opening the door, I walk out slowly and approach him and dad.

"Ready?" Asks Sherlock's brother. He gestures to follow him with his umbrella in one smooth move.

I follow obediently but a soft voice from behind stops me, "wait."

"Why?" My voice is cold, but I don't even know why. I just can't process what happened the other night.

"Please. Turn around." I close my eyes in defeat and turn around, nodding at Mycroft to say 'a minute?' He nods back and leaves the room to speak with Mrs Hudson downstairs. "Do you actually want to go?"

"No shit." I breathe, looking down at the floor. I don't even know if I want to go so how am I going to give him an answer.

"Please don't swear, Emily. It's not good."

"Neither is doing it with Lindsay. My language could be worse. You can the have the front seat if you want."

"What is wrong with you?!" He answers in disbelief. I ignore him and head for the stairs, but once again, his voice brings me to a halt, "you look so much like Mary."

My lips part in shock, why would he say that now? "W...what?"

"You look like Mary. You do. I'm sorry, I just had to say..."

My voice is shaky and broken sounding, "goodbye, dad."

***

I can't help but regret the conversation from earlier with dad. I honestly cannot accept what happened. I can't. I only came to this god forsaken thing to get away from Baker Street for a while without being hunted down by detectives and fathers.

I am dragged back to reality when a man wearing an expensive looking suit approaches me holding his hand out. We just got here.

"Hello Emily, I'm Sir Edward Holloway, but you can call me Edward." He smiles and I shake his hand. He does seem genuinely nice. That was something I wasn't expecting. You know, everyone has stereotypes based on prejudices, right?

"Nice to meet you, Edward."

"And you too. If you'd like to follow me and I'll take you to your table.
I nod and trace his steps through a large room and down a corridor with several paintings dotted along the walls. "Right in here." He instructs, opening a door and pointing into the room at an empty seat on one table in amongst many people.

I take a deep breath and enter the area that is packed with people. Several circular tables are placed around the room with people seated the whole way around.

I swerve around each table, making my way to the other end of the room. It's not the sort of dinner that has a bar in one corner with buyers lingering around the edge where the drinks are served. It's the type that's highly sophisticated with white wine and fine cutlery with pottery plates and stuff for each and every guest. I wouldn't say I'm surprised. It is a senior government gathering.

I finally get to the table and sit down in the chair, looking at all of the people who join me on this particular eating surface. I smile at all of them. They all greet me using my name like 'hello Emily, it's lovely to meet you.' I guess this is going to be the sort of mingling you do when people know you, but you don't know them. Awkward.

They're extremely nice people but it's sickening in a way I just can't describe. Maybe it's because they spend about five hundred quid for one bottle of wine. Yep. That's it.