Chapter 45
45
‘Where’s your luggage, Mum?’
‘My suitcase is in Taiwan. That means I have no clothes, no make-up and no hair rollers!’
The latter, Jess knew, was a true tragedy indeed for her mother to have to bear.
‘Calm down, Mum; we’ll sort it out. They do have shops in Dublin, so if your case isn’t here by tomorrow, I’ll pop out and get you a few necessities. In the meantime, you can borrow anything you need from me. I don’t understand, though; what the hell is your luggage doing in Taiwan?’
‘They forgot to load it on the bloody plane, didn’t they, but I’ve given the airline your address and been assured it will be couriered there by tomorrow afternoon at the latest. I blame your father, Jessica. If it wasn’t for him insisting I fly budget now that I’m officially retired and we’re a one-income family… It’s all part of his new belt-tightening regime. I have a good mind to phone him when we get back to your place to tell him that unless he books me a return flight with Air New Zealand, I’m not coming home. I refuse to put myself through that… that journey from hell again!’
Jess’s eyes widened. If it came to that, she’d bloody well foot the bill for the new booking.
‘It’s true, you know, that saying that you get what you pay for. In the last forty-eight hours, I’ve been to Taiwan, Bangladesh and touched down in most of the states belonging to the former USSR. I’ve had a small child throw up in my lap, and for the last ten hours of my journey, I’ve sat next to a woman with a fear of flying – can you imagine?’
Jess burst out laughing at the picture her mother had just painted.
Marian looked aghast. ‘It’s not funny, Jessica. We didn’t even get any in-flight perks. Not so much as a cup of coffee.’ She stared hard at her daughter, and then her own mouth twitched, and she, too, had to laugh.
‘Come on, Mum – put it behind you. You’re here now, so let’s get you home for a cup of tea and a hot shower. You look like you could do with one.’ She started laughing again, and then linked her arm through her mother’s and led her outside to the waiting taxi rank. Perhaps the next fortnight mightn’t be so bad, after all.
‘Welcome to Ireland, Mum.’