One Day and Forever
Prologue
PROLOGUE
KARA
Glasgow Airport – 2 January 2019
Kara squinted at the departures board on the far wall of the bar and wondered why the weather gods had decided to mess with her route, while the rest of the world was bang on schedule. Iceland was preparing to board. As was Palma. If she was going for a jolly to Helsinki, she’d be taxiing towards the runway. Everywhere else was peachy, except her forty-five-minute jaunt to Dublin that had already been delayed for over an hour. Bloody fog at Dublin airport, apparently. According to the nice lady at the check-in desk, nothing had been able to land there all afternoon. There was no word on when it would clear, but Kara feared if they didn’t get called soon, she was going to miss her onward flight to New York. She’d booked that route because there was an American immigration service in Dublin airport that allowed travellers to clear US passport control there and avoid the massive queues at JFK, but now it was backfiring like her clapped-out Mini.
Karma. That’s what this was. The gods of pissed-off boyfriends were trying to teach her a lesson. Josh had told her repeatedly that going to New York for three days for her best friend, Ollie’s wedding was a ridiculously stupid idea, but she’d been adamant that she was going, and it had blown up into a huge fight which had ended with her storming out. Which would have been a really dramatic exit, if she hadn’t then had to mooch back into their Glasgow city-centre flat to collect her bag and her carry-on luggage. Even so, she’d been proud of herself for sticking to her plan, but look where it had got her. Delayed. Stuck. Panicking that she might not make it.
‘Another drink?’ the waiter asked as he passed her, clutching a tray laden with pints of lager for a nearby table of ten whose T-shirts advertised that they were going on SHUGGIES STAG – CARBS ALL THE WAY TO MARBS.
Okay, one more drink while she contemplated the misfortune of the situation. ‘You read my mind.’
It was barely out of her mouth when a rousing cheer went up from Shuggie and his fellow revellers at the arrival of more liquid joviality. She wished she could share in their merriment, but right now the only high spirits she could muster were being served by the waiter.
The departures board flickered, and she watched as the numbers on the screen changed. Dublin. Now delayed until 20.15. Bloody hell. It was only four o’clock. There was no chance she was getting out from Dublin to New York tonight unless there was a really late flight to JFK that they could bump her to. Maybe she should just call it a day now, give up, go home, admit to Josh that he was right and then call Ollie in the Manhattan apartment he shared with his fiancée, Sienna, to tell him that she wouldn’t make the nuptials, and he was going to have to find another Best Person. Yeah, that’s what she should do. Concede defeat. Take the hit.
Only… nope, she couldn’t. Because Ollie Chiles had been her best mate since she was three years old, and she wasn’t going to miss his wedding if she could help it. Even though this flight had fired her credit card up to the limit, even though her feet would barely touch the NYC sidewalks because she had to be back at work on Monday, even though her boyfriend thoroughly disapproved of the whole trip and even if the prospect of meeting his world-famous fiancée, actress Sienna Montgomery, was more than a little terrifying. It was still bizarre to her that Ollie was marrying someone they used to see on TV when they were in high school and would watch American teen shows while they pretended to do their homework.
‘Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here? The only other free seat is with that group over there,’ he pointed to Shuggie’s crew, ‘and I don’t have the T-shirt.’
The Irish accent cut right through her thoughts, making her raise her gaze from the pits of frustration, up denim-clad legs, to a black T-shirt and a thick Columbia padded jacket, then on up to the embarrassed expression of a guy who was drop dead… ordinary. Attractive, kind of. If this was a romcom, he would look like Channing Tatum or Zac Efron, but instead, it was just a tall, perfectly pleasing dark-haired, blue-eyed bloke with an embarrassed but hopeful expression.
Kara glanced around and saw that every other table was indeed occupied – probably due to the flight delay and the hectic post-holiday period. There was always a huge influx of tourists to Scotland for the New Year celebrations and it felt like most of them were now crammed into this bar as they headed for home.
‘Of course. Sure. I’m a bit gutted I don’t have one of those T-shirts myself. Although, if my flight gets delayed any longer, I’m going with them and I’ll drown my sorrows in Marbs.’
She was aware that a simple, ‘No, I don’t mind,’ would have sufficed, but oversharing was her biggest vice. If a taxi driver, waitress in a café, or a little old lady on a bus struck up a conversation with her, she was immediately locked in, and they were best friends by the time they parted ways.
Credit to him, her unmistakably weary mutterings didn’t seem to faze him. Nor did the fact that she was now being given a large glass of wine by the waiter, whose expression remained completely non-judgemental as he removed the two empty wine glasses that were already loitering on the table. Before she’d even taken a sip, Kara felt her cheeks flush at the prospect of a third large wine in two hours. That would normally be the halfway point to a family-size packet of cheesy crisps and a heartfelt rendition of Robbie Williams’ ‘Angels’, so she should probably call it a day after this one. In the meantime, she ran an internal monologue, ordering her gob to stay closed. Do not strike up conversation with unsuspecting stranger. Do not invade his peace and quiet. Do not talk nonsense.
As her new table companion ordered a bottle of beer, she picked up her phone, and acted like she was intently studying something important, while actually scrolling through her Instagram feed, which was peppered with adverts plugging various strategies for self-improvement, countless ‘revolutionary’ new diet plans, the top ten New Year’s resolutions for 2019, must-see NYC tourist attractions, the beginner’s guide to tantric sex, training on how to nail a job interview and tips on improving communication in relationships. Even her algorithms had decided that every area of her life needed work.
The new arrival shrugged his jacket off and onto the back of the chair. ‘Dublin?’
Okay, so maybe he was the chatty type. Or maybe just being polite.
Kara put her phone face down on the table. ‘How did you guess? Oh. Obvious. I said I was delayed and it’s the only one not going out on time. You too?’ It wasn’t exactly a stab in the dark. The accent – her favourite, thanks to her movie history convincing her that if she were ever trafficked, Liam Neeson would somehow find her.
‘Yep. Going home.’
Actually, when he smiled, he climbed many notches up the attractive scale.
Kara pushed the thought from her mind as she picked her phone back up, feeling a surge of dread as she wondered if she should text Ollie and let him know about the delay? There was still time for him to choose another Best Person for his wedding just in case she didn’t make it on time. And if he went for the bog-standard Best Man approach, it would probably save him a headache, because Ollie had already let slip that Sienna, his wife-to-be, had already made it perfectly clear she wasn’t thrilled about the whole ‘female best pal’ thing. It was like Julia Roberts and Cameron Diaz in My Best Friend’s Wedding , but without the Hollywood dental standards. Sienna just didn’t understand that she and Ollie had been like brother and sister since they were kids. Their mums were best mates, so they’d pretty much been brought up together, and yes, it was love – just not the kind that involved nudity.
‘What about you? What takes you to Ireland?’ he asked, then immediately back-pedalled. ‘Sorry, I don’t want to be that guy who intrudes on your evening, then forces you to make conversation. Feel free to tell me to mind my own business.’
Her shoulders dropped an inch or so, as her ‘sod it’ gene kicked in. What was her sister, Drea, always saying? Only worry about the things you can control. She was a bit like a walking catalogue of one-line wellbeing quotes, but she had a point.
‘I’m just passing through, on the way to New York for my friend’s wedding. My best friend, actually. At least, I was. That might change if I don’t get there in time for the “I do” bits.’
‘Ouch. I guess she’ll be gutted if you don’t get there.’
‘ He. It’s a bloke. We grew up together. I used to steal his snacks in nursery. His mum made great rice crispie cakes, so it was totally worth it.’
Mr Not Zac Efron gave a sheepish shrug. ‘Apologies for the assumption. I bet he’ll be gutted.’
Kara felt another surge of dread at the prospect of explaining her travel fiasco to Ollie, then changed the subject so she didn’t have to dwell on it. ‘What about you? Were you in Glasgow for New Year?’
‘Did the bloodshot eyes and the obvious dehydration caused by a three-day celebration give it away?’
‘I couldn’t possibly confirm or deny,’ Kara teased him, thinking this was the first time all day she’d smiled and meant it.
‘Guilty as charged. I come here every year with my mum. She’s originally from Glasgow and visits her family every New Year. She’s staying a few more days, but I have to get back to work.’
‘Demanding job?’ She tried to work out his age and guessed he was somewhere around the same age as her, about twenty-four.
‘Lawyer. Almost. Still training but I’ll be fully qualified this year.’
That got her attention. ‘Serial killers and horrible Netflix crimes that would make me hide behind the couch?’
‘Worse. Family law. This is the busiest month of the year for divorces. Sorry – I know that makes me sound cynical, but I promise I’m not. Divorce is a last resort – we try to mediate and solve the problems before anyone signs on the dotted line. I’m Zac. Pleased to meet you.’ That made her smile. So he did have something in common with Mr Efron after all.
‘Kara. Same.’
At least the gods of pissed-off boyfriends were now giving her something to take her mind off the pissed-off boyfriend at home, the inevitably pissed-off best friend in New York and her pissed-off self. And then they snatched it away again with an abrupt announcement.
‘Attention, all passengers travelling on Flight 2342 to Dublin. Please contact the nearest passenger services desk.’
Kara’s shoulders slumped. ‘That doesn’t sound good.’
‘Nope, it doesn’t.’
‘There’s a passenger services desk just across the waiting area there. We should probably…’ Kara began, then her words drifted away as a nod out to the main departures area made the point for her. She briefly wondered when they’d become a ‘we’. Two and a bit glasses of wine and she was already thinking too deeply about every little thing. That usually happened after at least four.
‘Yeah, we should,’ he agreed.
They made small talk about the weather, their New Year activities and the inconvenience of the delay while they made their way to the passenger services desk. It wasn’t hard to spot. A queue of dissatisfied customers was already forming in front of it.
They slotted in behind two bespectacled blokes who bore an uncanny resemblance to the Proclaimers, which immediately set off a chorus of ‘I Would Walk 500 Miles’ in Kara’s head. Which might be the only journey she was taking tonight, because by the looks of things, she clearly wouldn’t be flying.
A groan broke out at the front of the queue and reverberated back towards them, in a relay of passed-on information. The gents in front of them got the info, then turned to them to repeat it. ‘Apparently the flight has been cancelled and they’re putting us all on another flight tomorrow morning,’ one of the almost-Proclaimers told them.
Her first thought? Well, that made the decision for her. There was no way she’d make the wedding now. Bugger. Damn. She’d be as well just giving up on the whole trip.
‘So the airline is putting us all up in an airport hotel for the night,’ said his look-alike companion.
Her second thought? That wouldn’t be necessary for her. She had a perfectly good home to go to only twenty minutes away.
‘Just one of those things, I guess,’ Zac said, with a shrug. ‘Only thing we can do is make the best of it.’
Her third thought? Josh was at home. And he’d be so smug if the gods of pissed-off boyfriends sent her back there tonight. She honestly didn’t think she could give him the satisfaction of the win.
‘What are you going to do, Kara?’ Zac asked.
Her next thought? She liked the way he said her name.
‘I guess I’ll stay over at the hotel and decide in the morning.’