Page 95 of Textbook Romance

‘THOSE ARE EXPENSIVE!’

‘EXPENSIVE MY ARSE, PATRICIA! THEY’RE HIGH STREET TAT!’

I spy Dom and the boys waiting for me in the corner of the airport. We had a leaving McDonald’s as my farewell meal which felt economical but also fitting. It was always a fancy night out in our books and given I was headed to quite a remote part of Borneo, I did wonder about the next time I’d be able to indulge in a highly processed, deep-fried meal. I don’t think Patricia and Dennis are headed to where I’m going. Her suitcase reveals a fair number of sarongs, sandals and suncream and… oh dear, I need to look away. Because it also looks like Patricia has packed some sex toys, which she might need if Dennis decides to go on this holiday without her. Patricia, close your bag. I can see your butt plugs. You didn’t look the sort but, hell, I won’t judge. She’s still sifting through her shoes when I bend down below the barrier. The person at the front of the queue eyeballs me. Please don’t worry, I’m not taking your place.

‘Hi, Patricia… is it?’

She glares at me with tears in her eyes. Please don’t cry. You’re headed off on holiday and it’ll be a long flight to have an argument simmering like that. Plus, I’m trying to save you your blushes here.

‘I just… I do believe that there is a courier in the terminal. Maybe they’ll box up the shoes and other items you can’t take and maybe you could post it back to your house?’ I tell her.

‘Really?’ she asks me. ‘Dennis! This young man said I can post my shoes back to myself.’

Dennis looks over at me with my giant rucksack on my back and hoodie and sneers with an immediate mistrust, like I may be trafficking drugs about my person. I’m not sure who he is to judge, given what I’ve just seen in his wife’s suitcase.

‘It’s just an option. I’m just trying to mediate another solution to your problems.’ They continue to bicker as the line moves on and more check-in desks suddenly open.

‘Thank you,’ Patricia says, fluttering her eyelashes at me and putting a hand to my arm. I know flirting when I see it and from the looks of it, Dennis isn’t too impressed. Happy holidays, you two. I move forward in the queue and head to a free check-in desk.

‘Evening, sir,’ the check-in agent says as I place my travel documents in front of him. He flicks through the papers.

‘So, London to Singapore and then final destination of Kota Kinabalu?’

Final destination. I am not quite sure how I feel about the word final but yes. For now, that’s where I will land, and for a moment, I’m not quite sure how I feel about any of it. I nod as he starts keying in buttons on his computer, and checking I match my passport. It’s the dream job, it really is, and Sarah has sorted everything on the other end from the accommodation to buying me a new bike with a bell. She was very excited to tell me she’d sourced me a bell. But there’s some fear there to be leaving Dom, to be away from everything, and also a very raw ache to be away from Zoe. She doesn’t want me. I get that now, but I do worry if I took this job as a reaction to being dumped. Maybe.

‘So we have an aisle seat for you today and I’ve booked all the tickets for you through to Kota Kinabalu. Only one bag to check in?’

‘Yep. Travelling light.’

The agent glares down at Patricia and Dennis still squabbling. ‘Best way,’ he whispers. ‘Thank you for being so easy.’

‘Yep, usually takes a few drinks,’ I joke.

He laughs and Dennis looks over, glaring at me again. ‘Have a nice flight, Mr Damon.’

I take my smaller rucksack and exhale a deep cleansing breath, heading over to the boys. I’m not sure I like airports. There really is a collective sense of tension in these places. People rushing around on sprawling shiny floors, their eyes scanning the walls for flight details, eyes widening to hear announcements they can’t quite make out, trying to juggle children, trollies, suitcases, their sanity. Even that word – departures – holds some sadness. I am leaving, departing, moving on.

‘I reckon I just saw David Beckham,’ Dom tells me as I relocate them in their corner of the airport.

‘Just casually checking in with the peasants, was he?’ I joke.

‘He’s trying to blend in. If you do end up sitting next to him, you’ll say hi – yes?’

I know what he’s doing. He’s an emotional sort so he’s just trying to fill the conversation with bad humorous segues to distract from all of that. Maybe this was a bad idea. I should stay here with them and we can play Nerf gun wars until the twins leave home and then we can live together.

He senses the panic in my face. ‘It’s all good. Let’s get you through security and then you don’t have to stress.’ He starts walking as the boys circle us, super happy that they’ve discovered they can skid across these floors with their trainers.

‘So give me your itinerary,’ Dom asks.

‘Flying into Singapore to meet Sarah and then we fly onwards to Borneo. Should get there in just over two days.’

‘Just let me know when you’ve landed, yeah? Signs of life and all that.’

I smile. He’s taking on some big brother stance. I put an arm around him, grateful for it, completely. ‘Of course.’ We stop in front of security and he brings me in for a hug, not quite saying a word. Please be OK.

Two heads suddenly squish in this hug and I feel hands reaching around my waist. I can’t cry in front of the boys, but I like this octopus-style way of saying goodbye. I look down. ‘You two look after your dad, yeah?’

They both look up at me. ‘Yeah. We will. Who’s going to look after you, though?’ asks George.

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