Chapter 45
Max
Why hasn’t he replied? I check his flight. It landed a while ago. I know my news must have been pretty hard to take, but I thought he’d at least say something. I call him, but he doesn’t pick up. I send a follow-up message asking if everything’s OK.
I’ve arrived at the airport in Athens far too early, but I still find myself rushing through security to get to the gate.
Something about being there makes me feel closer to Hunter.
Once I make it to the departure lounge, I settle into the seat closest to the check-in desk.
I shut my eyes, trying to stay calm, willing a message from him to appear.
Every notification that isn’t from him makes my chest tighten.
As I board the plane to London, it occurs to me that I might soon be making this journey in reverse.
When I next fly to Athens, I will be heading to my new home.
It should excite me, not make my heart sink, but how can I even begin to contemplate the excitement of starting a new life when it would be a life without Hunter?
My mood doesn’t improve once we take off. Seriously, why hasn’t Hunter replied?
My one consolation is the thought that when I land, I can see him. However difficult the conversation, simply being in a room with him will be some comfort. All I need to do is wait for the time to pass.
Someone once told me you’re more likely to cry at a film when you’re up in the air.
Something to do with the air pressure. After several bad experiences, I now only watch films I’ve already seen so that I never have to face the embarrassment of explaining to the woman in the seat next to me why the emotional backstory in Kung Fu Panda 2 has me sobbing uncontrollably.
For today’s flight, I’ve downloaded a film I’ve watched dozens of times – Miss Congeniality.
Its familiar rhythms are just what I need.
But today, it’s hitting different.
In the film, Sandra Bullock is an FBI agent who goes undercover at a beauty pageant to stop a terrorist attack.
But her journey ends up being much more personal.
Through the friendships she makes, she realises that she has been drawn to her job as an undercover agent because she is so comfortable hiding her true self.
By the end of the film, she has committed to a new, more honest approach to her work.
It’s not hard to see the parallels. It’s now clear to me why I didn’t feel better after I got the job at the embassy.
I lied to those protestors’ faces. That’s what the job is.
When this trade deal hits bumps in the road, as it inevitably will, I won’t be the one tasked with getting it moving.
I’ll be the one smoothing it over, insisting that everything is OK when everyone knows that it isn’t.
And I don’t think that’s good for me. After the journey I’ve been on, I need to find a job that challenges me to be honest, not one that indulges my worst instincts. I’m not sure why I didn’t see it sooner, but now I feel it deep in my gut.
This job isn’t right for me.
It feels crazy to admit that after it’s been my dream for so long. But even if it was my mum who originally inspired me, I’m certain she would agree with me now. She’d want me to be on the side of the protesters, not Wrettham.
I still believe in the work of government. I even still believe in the power of diplomacy. Someone’s got to do that job. But I no longer believe that person should be me.
And if I’m not going to move to Athens . . .
I catch my breath as the truth hits me.
Hunter and I can be together.
The cloud that has been hanging over me for the last few weeks has finally lifted. All it took was Sandra Bullock at 30,000 feet.
I’m overcome with the need to tell Hunter the good news. In the absence of phone signal, I start to garble it to the poor woman sitting next to me, who clearly thinks I’m insane.
As I count down the minutes remaining of the flight, time slows to a crawl. Eventually, we begin our descent into London. I’m ecstatic at the thought of seeing Hunter. By the time the wheels hit the tarmac, I’m ready to leap off the plane and run all the way home to him.
But when I turn my phone on, there are still no messages from him. I refresh it a few times. Nothing. His flight landed hours ago. And sure, maybe Hunter was focused on his meeting, but it’s weird that he hasn’t replied at all.
As I walk through passport control, I have a knot in my stomach and I can feel my pulse racing. But nobody stops me. When I get to the other side, my phone rings and I answer hurriedly.
‘Max? It’s Doily.’
My heart skips a beat.
‘Hey, what’s up?’
Doily inhales sharply. ‘Turn right when you come out of Arrivals. I’m waiting for you.’
The tone of her voice makes me pick up my pace. When I turn the corner, I see Doily standing by a minibus with half a dozen youths. My dad is with them, and so is Mr Peanut.
But no Hunter.
I scan the group to double-check, but I can already tell from the look on Doily’s face that something bad has happened. I race up to her and drop my bags.
‘What’s going on? Where’s Hunter?’