Chapter Six #2
Unsettling sensation that I’m living the past twenty-four hours all over again and a best mate who casually drops an existential crisis on me right when I’m leaving the country and feel powerless to help?
Naturally the beauty hall is calling my name and as I head over, the seedlings of an idea start to take root.
As unlikely as this whole set-up is, it could present me with some unique opportunities.
I’ve already predicted Callum Bang’s dreaded arrival, but what if I’m right about Hamish, too?
What if he is going to turn up today, and what if I’m going to find my attempts to talk to him thwarted at every turn, just like … ‘yesterday’?
Have I been presented with a golden opportunity to change the course of my fate? I wonder.
What if I’ve been gifted a second chance at love with the one that got away?
I let those thoughts percolate, excitement building like bubbles in a champagne glass.
Sure, everything feels chaotic and a bit mad right now, but can I use this to my advantage? It’s possible that I know where Hamish will be, and this time around, I could make sure that we bump into each other. Could I, even, make him fall in love with me all over again?
Wait a minute, that sounds creepy and weird.
My fingers drum animatedly on the pot of salmon sperm face cream I have picked up on autopilot.
There’s no harm in using this little glitch to my benefit, right?
Suddenly, I’m breathlessly scrolling through a montage of all our best bits in my head. Could this actually be my opportunity to fill the Hamish-shaped hole that has been there since he left for Australia a decade ago? Is that why I’ve been given this second chance at today?
If we’re calling it that. I’m still on the fence. The logical explanation is that I simply had a dream last night that was weirdly accurate and now my brain’s got a bit confused. Or maybe I can see into the future.
Wait, is that it? Have I developed a psychic gift?
I’ve predicted my future at the exact moment when I have a chance to change my path. To bring back the one that got away. That house by the sea with Hamish and the dog? Our happy ever after? Suddenly, it feels tantalizingly within reach.
All I’ve got to do is make a few minor tweaks.
I’m taking in a long, shaky exhale when thoughts of Callum rudely interrupt my genius plan.
He’ll likely be here any minute and I simply refuse to have him find me in this compromising situation.
If I have been granted prior access to today, then I can at least use it to my advantage.
A bit like living in my own version of an insider sale and getting my hands on members’ access before everyone else.
I replace the moisturizer and march with purpose towards a café.
There will be no salmon sperm encounter with Hades himself for me today.
Take that, strange circumstances!
I find a table, pull out my laptop and am pretending to work when Callum stalks over, looking even more disgruntled than last time I saw him.
Which was … in the future? This exact time yesterday-slash-today?
My head swims as I try to get to grips with this.
I was confused enough by the time difference from here to Australia, and now I need to try and figure out what day it is in relation to the day I feel like I’ve already lived that also appears to be today?
My brain is a bowl of alphabet soup.
No, stop it. I, Nina Moss, am nothing if not positive and upbeat.
I’ll be fine. I haven’t travelled back in time because that’s not normal and I am a normal human being.
I live in the real world, not on a movie set.
This is stress. Perfectly understandable.
I’ve just got to get through today and move on with my life.
I take a shaky sip of coffee and try to look like an ordinary person as Callum pulls up at my table.
Wearing the same dark blue joggers and sweater of my dreams.
I remind myself not to fret.
‘There you are,’ he says, as if he’s been looking for ages. At least this is one hundred per cent an improvement on yesterday’s greeting.
‘Here I am.’ I crack a rallying smile for my own benefit. ‘You sound surprised.’
Callum pushes his hair off his forehead as he looks around.
‘No,’ he says, although it sounds more like a yes.
I find myself in the strange position of feeling comforted by my arch nemesis’s arrival.
Things are marginally less unsettling with Callum here, which goes to show how shaky I must be feeling because we all know that he is such a condescending prick.
Although I note that Callum seems a little less cocky this morning and I find myself oddly compelled to ask after him.
‘Grab a seat,’ I offer. ‘You okay?’
Callum stays standing, eyes narrowed. ‘What, no snide remarks this morning, Moss?’
‘Some things don’t change.’ I sigh loudly.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Never mind. I hear you’re coming to Australia too.’
‘Yup. Lucky you.’ He smirks at me.
‘Yes indeed. I simply cannot wait to spend the next day in transit arguing with you. We’re both totally screwed.’
‘Stirring words, Moss. Have you considered retraining as a life coach?’
‘Very funny. I’m just saying—’
‘I know, I know. You hate me. The idea of spending any time with me is an unimaginable chore. You wish I hadn’t been sent on this trip and you resent my very presence here. Is that about the size of it?’ he asks, hitching his bag further up his shoulder.
I mean, yes, but …
‘What’s up with you today?’ I ask.
He pinches the top of his nose. ‘Sorry. I’ve got a lot going on.’
‘Join the club, pal,’ I tut. Callum doesn’t know the half of it.
‘Maybe we should just meet later at the gate?’ he suggests.
‘Fine by me,’ I huff as he stalks off.
Wow. Way to make the vibe even weirder, I think grumpily as I finish my coffee and make my way to the departure gate. Still, forget Callum, I’ve got a new plan to hatch anyway.
Our flight hasn’t been called yet but I suspect I already know the gate number and practically jog along the travelator to get there. Only difference this time is that I’m not in competition with the freakishly fast Callum Bang of my dreams. Or should I say nightmares.
I know exactly what I need to do. I find a member of the airline we’re flying with, flip my hair behind my shoulders and unleash Business Nina, my competent alter ego who is very impressive and gets stuff done.
‘Hi, I’m so sorry to trouble you but I’m hoping to swap my seat on this flight,’ I say.
‘I’m afraid we can’t do that once boarding passes have been issued, ma’am,’ she replies with a kind look.
‘I totally understand,’ I say, leaning in. ‘And I know it’s a huge ask. But the thing is, I’m pretty sure that the one that got away is on this plane. My one that got away. I haven’t seen him in years and I would so love to sit next to him.’
The attendant’s interest is piqued, I can tell. I proceed to tell her my entire life story and the sweeping romance that was Hamish and me before he left the country, only this time with less of the him-ghosting-me element that Dream Callum and All-the-Time Penny seem to find so annoying.
She clutches at her chest.
‘That’s so sweet,’ she says when I come to an end. ‘Let me see what I can do.’
After a quick type into the computer, she looks up at me. Then she hands me a brand-new boarding card.
‘You’re in luck. The flight isn’t quite full and I’ve put you right next to Mr McKellan.’
‘Oh my word, thank you so much!’ I squeal. I can’t believe that, a) Hamish actually is on this flight and, b) my plan worked. Future happiness, here I come!
‘You’re welcome,’ she calls as I skip off to grab a seat, excitement building in my stomach. This is it. This is my chance. Maybe I won’t even need my new rose-tinted sunglasses now there’s the promise of Hamish in my future, too.
I hear the divorce party before I see them, because they’re singing Men At Work’s ‘Down Under’ at top volume. On closer inspection, one of the party appears to be clutching a mini didgeridoo. ‘The Australians are going to love them’, I chuckle to myself as they close in on the gate.
And there, behind them, is Callum.
He tries to inch past but they’re too boisterous and I watch, delighted, as handsy chief divorcee Jennifer runs her hands over his chest.
Ordinarily, I’d help. But let’s not forget that this man has an extremely low opinion of me and seems hell-bent on making that clear at every available opportunity. So instead, I settle back in my seat, grab my imaginary popcorn and watch the show.
I can hear him politely trying to extract himself from their fervent admiration and, eventually, he pops out of the swarm of women looking ruffled. His glasses are slightly skewed, his dark hair on the tousled side, and his bag is falling off his shoulder.
His eyes settle on mine and he prowls over to me.
‘That funny, was it?’ he demands crossly as I try, unsuccessfully, to rearrange my features.
No point in denying it.
‘Hilarious.’ I bite my lip.
Callum looks like he’s about to launch into some kind of diatribe when we both spot Clio and Brody being chauffeur-driven over to the departure gate. And the stern look he was giving me suddenly breaks into this professional, charming smile.
‘I’ll deal with you later,’ he mutters darkly.
Appallingly, my body responds to this in ways I did not give it permission to. My pupils become shot. My breathing quickens. An almost inaudible gasp escapes my lips at this promise, just for me.
Worse, Callum notices. His eyes flick down to my mouth and back again. Something flashes behind his gaze. He holds my stare for a beat too long before he turns his attention back to our clients and I’m left trying to desperately gather my wits.
What the heck?
Have I developed some kind of kink? Mean boys who are horrid to me and promise to deal with me later? Is that even a thing?