DEAREST HEART

The policeman eyed me suspiciously-I had walked
past the House of Commons 3 times and still could
not stop.
"Help you Miss?" He said in the same tone as he
might say 'Your nicked!"
"Um, yeah, no, I'm just waiting for someone."
I mumbled.
Then I saw him striding across the forecourt
like Darth-bloody-Vader-Sir Patrick Beamish
AKA Dad. Oh shit my innards turned to puree.
"Rebecca?" He says squinting into my face.
"That's right."
Policeman's eyebrows were raising and a funny
half-smile quirked his lips. I bet he thought I was
an escort.
I could not help stare at this man, he was my sire,
my origins. I could see myself mirrored in his sharp
blue eyes and pitchy hair. I hoped my hair would be so
streaky when I got older. He was not as easy in his
body as me, he carried himself stiffly with his elbows
tucked tightly in (as though he was trying to control
himself) would I be that disciplined one day?
"There is a public house across by the station."
Said Patrick and almost forcefully linked his arm
through mine.
Policeman's mouth was twitching away like he
had Tourettes.
"Right!" I said but my heart was saying 'wrong'.
Just as I turned the Policeman gave me one of the
most evillest winks I've ever received. Quite
purposely I pulled my tongue out at him.
"Dearest heart you can not imagine what this
means to me." Said Patrick as we crossed the
road and made tracks to the pub.
The air was sharp and cold.
"It's too strange." I muttered.
"Strange can be good." He said and smiled and
that smile did it. Toothy like me, friendly
and decidably wicked. Even being a Tory could
not change the fact-I think I was going to like
this fella.

Becka M