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She picked up her phone and dialled Peter’s number. It rang for a few minutes before going onto answer phone. She sighed and left her message, “Hey Peter it’s me. I’m sure you know who. Anyway look; I was wondering…well you know how I’ve been anxious about my Father lately. I’ve done a bad thing and found out the name of his Company, ok I already knew that… but I’ve got direction there. So… Oh you know what I’m asking. It’d be about a 2-hour drive. You know I’ve just realised how much oh a flippin’ burden I must be to you! Like a little sister… adopted. I must act like 10 years younger than I am. I mean I’m just blah, blah, blah, blah, blah… Where was I? Um… oh yes it’s somewhere… I remember it’s in Somerset… wait that’s a 3-hour drive. Speak to you soon then, or see you soon. Ah when will I shut up? Bee get out of my bonnet. Yeah bye.”

Later Peter came around to inquire about what she was on about.

“Sorry. I started blabbing on about garble.” She apologised. It was strange. Lately she had changed so much. The her that she’d always wanted to be had begun to emerge. She wasn’t so quick tempered. She enjoyed people’s company. She actually had developed a proper sense of humour.

He laughed. “Na you know it’s probably me, I was tired when I got the message.”

“Well anyway… I’ve found out the direction to my Fathers place. It’s somewhere in Somerset. Ok it’s be a 3-hour drive…” She put on some ‘puppy dog’ eyes.

“You know I can’t refuse.” He smiled.

“You don’t have to you know.”

“I know, I know. But you’re kinda my best friend.” He said as she looked at him blankly.

“Best friend? Really. I’ve never had a best friend… Sure it’s not best annoying friend. Best friend in my sort of category?” She asked rather puzzled.

“Whatever.” He replied, knowing what he meant. He saw her most days of the week so even though he hadn’t known her for as long as some people but he had become closer to her.

She looked out of the window nervously as they headed down the motorway there. What would he be like? Fat or thin? A giant or a dwarf? Nice or cruel? She began twiddling with her fingers, as they got nearer. Peter looked over.

“You know I’m sure everything will be fine. I suspect he’ll be a nice person you know.” He reassured her.

She smiled, “But my Mum was always great. It’s not her fault she got depression. I’m just worried he’ll be all the bad things I was. You know booze and drugs…”

He looked at her. “You drank and did drugs?”

She bit her lip, “Well, I knew some people. The only reason my ‘friends’ were ‘friends’ with me was because I could get cheap booze and cheap fags. Not proper bad drugs though. Anyway I didn’t smoke for long. Never liked it. Then I gave up booze after I came to your church. No, it was after my Mum died. I knew she hated it. The thought of it made me feel sick.”

He smiled with relief almost. He then looked at a sign ahead. Next turn and it wouldn’t be long until she met her real father. “Almost there.” He said as they turned. She got butterflies in her stomach. Was she ready? Well she’d have to be, she’d dragged Peter all this way. It wouldn’t be fair on him otherwise. She looked outside and watched as they turned off of the motorway. A shiver went down her back. Maybe she should have e-mailed them so that they know that she’s coming. So that he knows his daughter he never knew is coming.

Further along, passed some small country lanes she saw the village. It was reasonably large, had a recent estate built on the outskirts and inside a couple of take-a-ways, pubs and a decent newsagents. Then they turned up a narrow drive… and stopped. In front of them was small office building. ‘The Computer Store’ it read outside. Not the most imaginative of names. But there it was. On a rusty background, but it’s large white letters stood out like a sore thumb.

“So this is it.” She muttered as Peter opened her door.

“Yep. Are you sure you want to go in? Sure you’re ready?” He asked as she stepped out.
“Yeah. I think. I don’t know… no lets do this we didn’t drive all this way for nothing.” So they headed up to the original oak door. ‘Open’ it read.

She looked at Peter. Then pushed the door open. Inside was a small room. There was desk in front of her with computer parts behind. A tall lanky man walked in as the bell above the door went.

“Hello, how may I help you?” He asked in a thick West Country accent. She looked at him. All words that she had, had dried up. Peter walked forward.

“Hello I’m Peter Swan and this is…” He nudged her. She opened her mouth but no words came. So she shook her head and cleared her throat.

“My name is…” She started but paused as the man turned as a supposed employee walked into the room asking about some hard drive.

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