Second Snapshot (Picture This Sequel: Niall Horan)

-Catch me out. [Chapter 57]

CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN- Catch me out.

I ran my palms over the sticky surface of the table, it left traces of what felt like glue but could have been something I didn’t even want to think about on my fingertips. This wasn’t our standard. There were rugs with animal print on them hanging from the walls; the bar was sporting an overweight darts player swapping in between missing the board and swigging a beer rather noisily. As soon as I walked in people were staring at me, that was the people that were actually here, which wasn’t very many at all. My Father had already arrived when I got here, my Mother not, he was tense since I arrived and now, he was avoiding my eye.

“It sounded better in the reviews.”

He grumbled. I said nothing biting my lip as I shuffled in the bench of my seat, a splinter catching on my thigh made me wince slightly. But he wasn’t paying attention anyway. Fiddling with his cufflinks, running his hand through his hastily greying hair. My Father was getting on, that much was visible. But I couldn’t help but notice how he seemed to get even worse as the time without my sister progressed. His tie would always be that little bit skewwhiff, his top button undone, of maybe a shoelace untied. It was these little things that told me so much about my father, appearance is business, Ashley. If you don’t look professional to do a deal, don’t bother doing a professional one at all. Everyone knew you were supposed to obey by your own rules; it was moral logic, so that’s when you know something’s wrong when he doesn’t even do that anymore.

“Maybe we should just talk and then leave. Skip the eat bit.”

He suggested. His tone was completely flat, like even saying this was a gruelling exercise. He made it sound like it was, and that was kind of worrying for me. Aside from Ellie, he held us together. What were we supposed to do when even the strongest one crumbles?

“Sounds good.”

I murmured not really paying attention. All I could do was think of that picture. I wanted to ask him, ask him what it was all about; asking him what was so bad about it that it was bad that I almost found it all that time ago. Ask him why I hadn’t seen it before. The few pictures of my Auntie and I that there were and I hadn’t even seen it before? Everyone forgot about her but me. So why couldn’t I have the memories if they didn’t want them? It only seemed a waste to hide them away. Almost as if they were ashamed.

Just then as my Father’s eyes widened slightly I could feel her icy cold presence in the room.  And I could almost feel the air change, getting thicker and colder as it swirled around me drowning me in. She made me feel so small, like wherever she was, it was her ocean and I was the helpless little kid who couldn’t swim treading water in the whirlpool dragging me down in the middle of it. In fact I could almost feel my legs turning to jelly, my skin stinging as the pulsation of my heart tripled over and over until it couldn’t get any louder. It was so loud. Ringing in my eyes and drumming through my temples I bit my tongue so to stop me from freaking out right now. I didn’t know why I was so nervous, I was bigger now, I was stronger now and I didn’t take rubbish like I used to. I was over swallowing insults and sarcy remarks like they were pills. And I wasn’t going to let her influence my life again. So why did it feel like everything I’d told myself I was over now was coming back? Why did it feel like she had as much power over me as she used to when I was determined that she had none? I had no idea.

Nothing was happening, my father wasn’t moving, my mother wasn’t arriving so I dared to turn behind me. And sure enough she was there. Her dark eyes locked straight to mine her lips set into that thin line of a scowl, her jaw clenched and her fists in balls as she clutched them around the handle of her handbag, I could almost see her fake nails denting the materiel of her expensive Prada bag, she was angry. She wasn’t just angry, she was enraged. She finally pried her gaze from mine and settled it on my Father, a cold hard death stare was so sinister I was half expecting my Father to drop dead right now with how cold it was, it was like a bullet and I could almost see it travelling through the air and hitting him square in the head. And then she spun on her heels and walked out. And that was when it hit me; she didn’t know I was going to be here. My Father got up without saying anything he hastily rushed after her. I knew better than to get involved, hell did I know better. So I sat there and bit down on my lip, hard. I knew this was a mistake, I should have refused at the mention of my Mother’s name, I should have backed out right then. She didn’t want to see me as much as I didn’t want to see her. And that was the thing. I had this small, microscopic glimmer of hope that maybe; just maybe, we might be able to get on half civil grounds. How freaking stupid was I.