After one of the most embarrassing experiences of her life, Viola Hawkins is left feeling hopeless and demoralised. So when she's told that she's able to work as an undercover agent in a boarding school, she's given a new chance to change her life...
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THE AGENT is a tall, stern looking woman with curly jet black hair and hazelnut eyes, freckles dotted on her bony nose; posture poised and rigid. She stands in front of the lift, surveying her surroundings carefully, as if analysing every detail. Like an icy wave, her eyes finally glide to us, and, with a small nod, she walks in our direction, holding her briefcase in one hand, and a phone in the other.
"Hello. I'm Agent Rivers. But Rivers is just fine." The agent says, putting her phone in her pocket so that she can shake our hands.
William almost winces from her firm hold. "Your name is Rivers?"
"Rivers is my surname." She speaks slowly, as if she's used to educating others on the nature of her job. "We use surname basis referrals."
My dad steps forward to shake her hand, offering her a cup of tea.
"No thank you." She declines politely. "My colleague has been sent to another room to begin setting up, I presume we must head there?"
"Yes, of course. If you'd like to follow me." Dad begins striding down a corridor to our left, where the smaller rooms are, often used for interrogation or simply just admin work areas. Because they're soundproof, they provide excellent security, not allowing any confidential information to leave the confines of the space unless they are recorded.
When we finally reach the room, Dad scans the lock, before giving me a brief, stern look that only I can recognise. Mr Peters, by contrast, merely pats his son on the back and waves a satisfied goodbye.
Inside sits a thin man with tired, baggy eyes, a large nose and brown slicked back hair. He looks visibly stressed as he runs his fingers over the paperwork in front of him, scanning each sheet briefly. As he sees us he straightens, his body lengthening out as his shoulders move back and his chin is held higher.
Rivers, nodding at him, shuts the door.
Silence.
"Should we, uh, sit down?" William asks.
The man nods, and gesturing loosely to the chairs opposite him. "Yes, of course. Go ahead."
The chairs squeak as we sit down, providing an awkward, unwelcome, and brief soundtrack to the hush of the room.
Finally, as if a lifetime later, the man looks up from the sheets, utters a few, inaudible words to Rivers, and begins.
"Before we start, I'll just let you know that I'm Yates - I'm sure Rivers has already told you that we use surname-based referrals only." He pauses, taking a long, exhausted breath. "We're not getting onto the training as of yet, this is all preparation for that - I'm afraid what we've got today is mostly information, so it's imperative that you listen." His fingers knot together on the table in front, sitting on-top of the now-neatly piled paper. Clearing his throat, he continues, "As you know, becoming an undercover agent is a significantly important process. You will both get new identities, and this means you are no longer subject to your old names while you are undercover."
