Letters To My Mate

Chapter Twenty

TWENTY

I quietly followed my father into his car – it was an expensive looking car as he always tries to keep up his reputation, but in reality it was at a discounted price and second-hand – so that we could make our way to the restaurant that we were going to meet these mystery people at. As I stepped into his car, the smell of alcohol and cigarettes instantly fills my nostrils and I guess I pulled a face as my father looked at me and growled before spraying an air freshener which replaced the revolting smell.

A few minutes later we arrived at a restaurant that looked like everything was very expensive. I knew that my father would never spend so much money at a restaurant like this – especially on me – so whoever these 'important people' are must be extremely significant. My father parked the car near to the front of the parking lot and turned the car off, turning to face me.

"You will be on your best behaviour," he hissed, "I will not tolerate any slip-ups."

"Yes sir." I murmured.

"You will call me dad or father, nothing else." He said in distaste, as if he hated the mere fact that I was his daughter.

"Yes, father." I replied, looking down at my lap.

"These people are extremely important and high up so you will not allow them to be suspicious at all. You will look up, but do not look into their eyes. Do not act... like you." He listed, growling between each rule. "Do you hear me?" He yelled.

"Y-Yes," I stuttered, "Father."

He did not say anything else in reply but climbed out of the car and slammed the door behind him, causing me to jump in my seat. I quickly did the same as he rushed off towards the restaurant. When we entered my father was surveying the restaurant, looking around for whoever we were here to meet. He said something inaudibly to one of the waiters who quickly nodded and turned around, leading us to an empty circular table with five seats surrounding it. That means there will be three people we need to convince with our happy family act...

My father glared at me as I slouched in my seat so I pulled my shoulders back and rested my hands on the table in front of me, clasping them together – my posture had to be perfect. I heard the chime of the bell on the restaurant door followed by the sound of multiple pairs of shoes coming towards our table but I do not turn around to see who it is.

"Rachel?" A familiar voice came from behind me, causing me to freeze but I still refuse to turn around. My father glanced at me from the corner of his eyes and I could see his anger and confusion at why this person knew who I was.

We both stood up as three people came into my view and my father held out his hand to shake their hands, forcing a smile on his usually blank face. I followed my father's example and shook their hands. I first saw the woman who appeared to be in her mid or late thirties – she had short dirty blonde hair and wore a stylish, classy black dress that fell to her knees. Next, I saw the man who reminded me of an older version of Ethan; he looked to be around the same age as the woman but his dark hair was starting to grey in places. Once the man had greeted us, he wrapped his arm around the woman's waist and pulled her to his side and thus, I assumed that they were husband and wife. Stood next to these two people was a face I knew very well – Sebastian Miles. So, these must be his and Ethan's parents. Oh gosh. I did not expect to meet them this soon...

"You must be Mr Walker and this is your daughter?" The woman asked with a kind smile on her face although she still looked very professional.

"Yes, this is Rachel." My father introduced, attempting to sound polite and happy. It was working.

"It is nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs Miles." I smiled, nodding at both of them.

"It's a pleasure; please call me Avia and my husband David," she sent me a warm smile and nodded at my father before adding, "This is our son Sebastian." She gestured to Seb who was standing quietly to the side with confusion swirling around in his eyes. My father greeted Seb and I shook his hand timidly after my father had stepped back.