Arranged British Love

I opened the door to my new bedroom and gasped, walking into the large room. The walls we painted blue with a purple strip running around the middle. There were large windows and French doors on the opposite side to the door which I had just come through. A four-poster bed was on one side of the room, while on the other were two large bookshelves, filled with books which I realised were mine. The two bookshelves were either side of a wooden desk, fitted with pens, paper, you know, desk stuff.

I however, took no notice of those things at that very moment. Because standing in the middle of my room, all five foot nine of him, was my father.

“Pheebs, you’re here!” Dad swept me up into his arms and hugged me tight.

“Dad! How long have you been here for?” I asked, my voice muffled because my face was pressed hard against his shoulder. After a few seconds of hugging, he let me go.

“Only half an hour.” After living in England for eight years, he had picked up a slight accent. “How was the flight?”

“Well, if you ignore the actual flying part, it was good!”

“So where is Ethan?” My father asked me, looking behind my shoulder expectantly at the door like Ethan would walk through it any minute now.

“Uhh, he kind of almost got hit by a car. I...urr...pushed him away from being hit by the car. And I think he might’ve hit his head...then he fainted.” I muttered, knowing that my dad would flip for putting myself in danger.

“You did what?! Phoebe Harriet Brit, how many times have I told you not to run in front of cars?!” He began a lecture meant for a six year old.

“Dad, dad, do you think I walk in front of cars every day? And I am not six, thank you very much. I know when I should or should not ru-”

He cut me off from my rant by laughing quietly. “What?” I snapped.

“You still have a short temper Pheebs. I’ve missed you.” His eyes crinkled at the side when he smiled.

I went over to my new bed and sat down on the white, with black flowers, duvet covers. Dad followed me over and sat beside me, putting his arm around my shoulders, similar to the way my mother Nadia used to.

I sighed heavily at the thought of my mother. “I’ve missed you too dad. By the way...a little birdie told me that it was your idea to marry Ethan and myself. True or False?”

I looked up at him, waiting for the response. Dad instead looked around my new room. “The walls are nice.” He said nonchalantly.

“Dad,” I said in the warning tone he used rarely with me.

It was his turn to sigh heavily. “Well, yes. I thought that well...you always wanted to live with me, right? Well now we live in the same country! I really do think that you and Ethan can, well, hit it off. It was a favour to Sebastian and Arabella, and your mother seemed happy enough.”

I snorted at the memory of her excitement of me earning the family a higher status in society.

“Yeah okay, I forgive you.” I smiled and put my head against his shoulder.

“I must go.” He said, standing. “I’m off to a garden party at a friend’s. I know that Sebastian and Arabella are having a dinner party with a few close friends to introduce you, and I’ve been invited. You’ll need a friendly face there.”

I groaned at the thought of a dinner party with a load of people I didn’t know, or particularly care about. “See you tomorrow.” I mumbled.

“Bye P. See you soon.”

He hugged me tight one last time before walking out of the door I had left open.

I turned around to the wall with the bookshelves and desk on, noticing two doors, one right by the wall with the windows and French doors on, and one on the other side of the bookshelves. I opened the door closest to the windows and gasped, staring wide-eyed into the large walk-in wardrobe. Every single item of clothing I owned was in this wardrobe. I noticed that there were also new dresses and tops hung up beside my old ones.

Why did I need to pack a bag if they had already taken my clothes and books? Well at least I didn’t have to unpack the bag which I had brought with me; the servant had already done that for me.

The room was softly lit and the floor was a white carpet which I curled my toes into happily. The clothes had been separated into the different items; dresses on one rack, jeans in a drawer. I loved looking at clothes, so it took me a while to tear myself away and investigate the other door.

I walked out of the wardrobe, and opened the next door. Once again I gasped. I’ve been gasping after opening doors a lot today. The bathroom was huge and all marble filled. I promised to make myself a bubble bath in the huge bathtub later.

I decided that I should check up on Ethan, maybe he’d woken up from his blackout. I walked out of the room, into the corridor by the lounge I liked so much. I was about to knock on the door, which I knew was Ethan’s because it was the only one apart from my own, when I heard hushed voices from inside.

“It’s him that tried to run you over, Ethan, don’t deny it.” A girl’s voice came from behind the door.

Another girl spoke. “Yeah, he’s out to get you.”

I frowned, putting my ear against the door. “I know, I know. I just don’t know what to do!” I recognised the voice as Ethan’s, and it surprised me. Out of all of the times that I had heard Ethan speak, which wasn’t many, I hadn’t ever heard him sound so...so...wigged out.

“Well, you could try sleeping with his daughter and then stealing from him...no, no wait, you already did that!” I heard a different guy’s voice, his words laced with sarcasm.

When I heard this, I gasped rather loudly, and the voices behind the door stopped. I cringed, about to run back to my room when the door was pulled open.