Chapter Five #2
I chance a look up at him only to find his gaze trained on me.
‘A night out, Moss.’
‘What of it?’
‘Will you be letting loose and going wild?’ His lips quirk as he quotes Clio.
‘What the client wants, the client gets.’
He huffs out a noise. ‘I’m looking forward to it.’
‘Me too, actually. It’ll be good to blow off some steam after … this.’
Callum’s eyes flash and I’m saved from having to figure out his response because our row is called.
It’s only when we’re walking along the passenger boarding bridge towards our second plane that I realize I’ve missed another opportunity to talk to Hamish.
Damn. Are the fates conspiring against me?
I’m going to have to move fast this flight because once we land in Perth, he could be off and out of my life again without even knowing I was here.
This aircraft is not a double-decker, which probably isn’t the correct aeronautical term, but here we are.
It’s only got one level, is what I mean, and Callum leads the way through business class, past Cody reclining in their massive booths with yet more champagne, before we find our seats further back.
There’s no extra legroom this time and I try not to bristle as Callum manspreads all over my space.
I suppose it’s not his fault that he was born with such a wealth of long limbs, is it?
That’s the spirit, Nina! Tolerance.
One long-haul flight in and I am totally growing as a person.
Just a casual five hours to go, I think as I reluctantly settle in.
The thrill of long-distance travel has pretty much worn off by now, and as much as I can’t wait to get to Aus and crack on with this project, I also just cannot wait to not be sitting down.
My butt hurts! Will I develop bedsores from this?
I make a mental note to book into some classes while in Australia, already craving cardio in a way I never have before.
‘Moss?’ Callum’s voice floats into my subconscious, immediately making my hair stand on end. ‘Moss, wake up. We’re landing.’
‘We’re what?’
‘Landing.’
‘Landing where?’ I ask, gripped by panic. Are we making some kind of emergency stop? I’ve literally only just sat down!
‘In Perth. You’re on a plane and we’re about to land.’
I scowl at Callum’s condescending tone.
‘I know I’m on a plane, thank you very much. I’m not completely stupid, Callum.’
My colleague pulls a you-sure-about-that face.
‘But how are we in Perth already?’ I ask, a yawn taking over halfway through my sentence.
‘You’ve been out cold for the entire flight.’
Oh God. Out cold doesn’t sound great.
‘You mean … I slept through the whole journey?’
‘Mm-hm. You made some very cute little sleeping noises.’
Mortifying.
‘Don’t lie,’ I scowl.
‘I never do.’
I snap my eyes shut. Please tell me this is a dream. Please tell me I did not just spend the past five hours asleep next to Callum Bang, while snoring? It seems so unjust!
To make matters vastly worse, my stomach begins to rumble loudly.
‘You missed lunch, too,’ he points out somewhat unnecessarily as the plane begins to descend. ‘Here,’ he adds, handing me a packet of peanuts and a little bread roll.
‘For me?’ I ask stupidly.
‘Yes,’ says Callum. ‘I thought you might need something.’
‘That’s …’ I trail off.
‘That’s …’ he presses, eyebrow raised expectantly.
‘Actually very nice of you,’ I finally manage.
‘Don’t sound so surprised. I’m a nice person.’
‘So you’d have everyone believe,’ I reply, opening the packet of nuts and pouring them directly into my gob. Ah, that’s better. My stomach stops wailing as the plane comes in to land.
‘You’re welcome,’ says Callum.
‘You just can’t help yourself, can you? Always got to have the last word.’
Callum motions zipping his mouth shut and throwing away the key. I beam at him. ‘Much better,’ I say. ‘Some peace at last.’
My body clock is shot to shit but the adrenaline kicks in as the plane roars to a halt on the tarmac.
We are finally here! On a personal note, I’m hoping for sightings of the holy Australian trinity also known as Margot Robbie, Nicole Kidman and koalas.
No doubt all three will be roaming around the city of Perth at the exact same time I am.
I’m also very keen to visit all the Aesop shops and see if the birthplace of fancy soap offers up some slightly less expensive hand creams. Because if so, my heavy suitcase will only be getting heavier for the return journey.
I cast my mind back to the grumpy check-in operative at Heathrow …
yesterday morning? It seems like a lifetime ago.
Halcyon days, in many ways, as I was unaware that Callum Bang would be blowing in like a storm cloud.
A lot seems to have happened over the past day, I think as we start to disembark.
I look around, trying to find Hamish and eventually spotting him on the other side of the plane, still seated and letting other people get off before him.
So sweet. He always was thoughtful.
Callum and I are walking in silence towards the passport check when he accidentally drops his passport by my feet and I reach down to pick it up, because I am nothing if not a gentleman.
‘Thanks,’ he says, briskly reaching to take it out of my hands.
But the speed with which Callum moves towards his passport makes me pause, suspicious. I snatch it away from his grasp.
‘May I?’ I ask, curiosity getting the better of me as I flick through to his passport photo.
Callum practically growls.
‘I’d rather you didn’t. Oh look, too late.’
There, on the photo page, is a very different-looking Callum. ‘Oh my sweet Australian days, is that a man bun?’ I squeal, delighted.
He moves closer still, trying to remove the passport from my hand but I’m too fast, holding it behind my back.
I’m still chuckling at the photo as Callum stands in front of me, assessing the situation.
I bounce up and down on my tiptoes, hands behind my back, triumphant.
I guess I shouldn’t be too cocky. Given our size difference, he could quite easily reach around and take it from me.
As I land back on my feet I notice a shift in mood.
The air between us seems to crackle. My eyes track up to Callum’s as he looks down at me with that penetrating green gaze of his, chewing his bottom lip.
‘Let’s just say that I am looking forward to the day my passport is up for renewal,’ he says, folding his toned arms in front of him.
At some point he must have taken his jumper off because he’s standing there in a white T-shirt, still miraculously crisp, and I can’t help but cast a lingering look at his forearms before forcing myself to stop doing that.
‘And a beard too,’ I say, sneaking another peek.
‘All right, hand it over.’
‘Nope.’
‘Moss.’
‘What happened to using my first name?’
‘Given that you have made very mediocre attempts to call me by my preferred name, and you are now holding my passport to ransom, I have decided to lower myself back to your level.’
‘Here you go, Cal,’ I grin, returning his passport with a flourish.
Quick as a flash, Callum accepts his passport with one hand and steals my passport with the other.
‘Hey!’
‘A taste of your own medicine,’ he says, eyes twinkling as he opens up my passport for inevitable dissemination.
‘Go on then,’ I sigh. ‘Do you worst. What’s it going to be? “Is that Casper the Friendly Ghost?” or “Did you lose your eyebrows that day?” Believe me, I’ve heard them all. So come on, let’s have it.’
Callum takes a long look at my passport photo and then closes it and returns it to me without comment.
‘What’s the matter? Have you run out of mean things to say since we’ve landed?’ I ask, surprised.
Callum stares at me for a beat too long.
‘It’s a great photo.’ He shrugs.
Sorry, what?
‘Don’t look so surprised,’ he adds, before ushering me towards immigration.
It’s definitely Australia, I decide as we take our newly checked passports and head towards baggage collection.
Callum missed a glaringly obvious chance to poke fun at me there and he’s been quiet ever since.
Did he startle himself into submission after saying my passport photo was ‘great’?
I mean, as far as Callum Bang’s cutting tongue goes, that was probably the highest praise I have ever received from him.
So there must be something in the Aussie air.
Maybe now that we are Down Under, Callum’s entire personality has flipped, too?
Is he going to be almost civil with me for the rest of the trip?
Because if so, I’m not sure I can handle it. My stomach’s doing weird things.
Although that’s probably down to the fact that I’ve missed several meals already today.
‘Callum!’ I call after him. No, wait, let’s get this right. ‘Cal!’
He’s up ahead, striding towards the carousel. I can already see my massive bag on there, which is a relief. I skip over, slightly out of breath by the time I reach him.
‘Hey,’ I say, grabbing at my bag and almost being dragged along with it as I try to heave it off the conveyer belt.
Wordlessly, Callum reaches for my suitcase and picks it up with ease, plonking it down at my feet and pulling out the handle for me.
‘Thanks,’ I say as he does the same with his.
‘No problem,’ he says, a dark cloud descending.
Crap. I’ve upset him with the man bun glee, haven’t I? Come to think of it, that was maybe a bit rude? Did I overstep? I glance back up to see that he’s still looking displeased.
‘So, I thought it might be prudent to apologize,’ I say, trying not to grimace. Apologizing to Callum Bang, indeed. Maybe Australia has made me go mad, too?
‘Oh?’ He’s off again, taking such long strides in the direction of arrivals that I find myself once again cantering along to keep up.
‘I shouldn’t have poked fun at your man bun,’ I gabble. ‘It was a surprise, that’s all. Very different to your usual look. I’ve never seen you so … unpolished before. That’s not to say you didn’t look good because, let’s be honest, you always do.’
URGH! What am I saying?! Callum stops walking briefly to look at me in surprise. I plough on.
‘Looking good is, like, your thing. But it was not appropriate of me to comment and, now that I think about it, HR would probably have a field day with that so … shit. That was a bad move. Can you forgive me? Can you also not report me to HR? I love my job and I actually don’t know what I’d do if I got fired and oh, fuck, they’re going to fire me aren’t they? ’
I do not realize that hot tears are rolling down my cheeks until Callum hands me a neatly folded tissue.
‘Christ, this is embarrassing. It’s probably the lack of sleep,’ I sniff, blowing my nose and locking eyes with my colleague which, now that I think about it, is a weird time to make eye contact with him.
Callum, thankfully, is looking less like a man who is about to get me fired and more like a man who is thoroughly bemused by my existence.
‘Nina,’ he says, stopping dead in his tracks as he turns to me.
I stop too, wondering what he’s about to say and why my heart is suddenly in my throat.
But I don’t get to find out. The next thing I know, the sound of screeching tyres fills the air.
I turn to see an electric luggage buggy hurtling our way.
It slams directly into Callum’s body and he topples forward, towards me.
I am briefly cast in his shadow as he falls like a domino right into me, taking me down with him.
There’s the sound of bones crunching. A sickening thump as my head hits the cold hard floor.
There’s a searing white light. A ringing sound getting louder and louder behind my eardrums. Muffled voices talking about ambulances and checking pulses.
My pulse? I wonder vaguely. But I’m distracted, removed somehow.
Everything narrows and shrinks. My world becomes an old-style television set being turned off. The light fades to one solitary pixel in the middle of an otherwise black screen. The last thing I remember is the ringing sound coming to an abrupt stop.
And then, nothing.