Chapter Fourteen #2
‘Cool, cool,’ says Hamish. ‘So who’s the boss?’
‘Neither of us,’ I say.
‘The lovely Miss Moss,’ Callum replies at the same time. ‘She’s the lead on this, I’m just here in a supporting role.’ His professional-grade charm has kicked back in, Callum in work mode, but it feels to me like a light has gone out.
Hamish is chuckling. ‘Nina in charge,’ he says. ‘Just how she likes it. Hey, Nee, don’t be too hard on poor Cal. He’s had a rough journey here.’
‘Why would I be hard on him?’
‘From memory, Nina can be a bit spiky when things don’t go her way,’ Hamish is saying to Callum. ‘But she has a heart of gold.’
Callum now appears to be quite enjoying this line of conversation, while I’m keen to get Hamish to shut the hell up immediately.
‘As much fun as this is, Callum and I should go and chat to our clients.’ I step in, motioning towards Cody. ‘Make sure they’re okay.’
Truth is I’m desperate to get Callum away from whatever is happening here.
I feel compelled to apologize for shutting down Hamish’s (correct) suggestion that he and I were hooking up on the plane.
I can tell I’ve hurt him and the feeling makes my skin itch.
That and the fact that his ‘just colleagues’ comment is ringing in my ears, weighing heavy on my soul.
‘Nice to see you, Hamish,’ I call over to him as an afterthought.
Callum’s usual friendly work patter is back in full force now as he and Clio are laughing away, Brody slumped in his seat with an unwrapped protein ball. But I know that something is troubling Callum because he won’t make eye contact with me. He’s totally shut me down.
If I wasn’t traumatized from what happened with the first jeroboam of champagne, I’d crack open the second now, sending myself into total oblivion through sheer frustration.
Monday number five is an absolute mindfuck.
First, I learn that Callum’s not actually an awful human being in disguise.
That discovery alone is enough to make me question, ooh, everything about myself.
And worse, I realize that I like him. That brain fog I feel when I’m around him, it’s not hate.
It’s something entirely different. I’d thought that all the good things about him – the fact that he’s affable, sweet, kind, funny, sexy as hell – were based on a rocky foundation and therefore not solid.
Turns out I’d got the foundation all wrong.
He is all of those things and more. And he’s honest. I love that he told me exactly how he felt about me.
After years of hankering after Hamish, who had always seemed that little bit mysterious because he just disappeared into thin air without explanation, it’s been so refreshing to hear Callum tell me exactly what’s on his mind.
I want you so badly even though you hate me.
Those were his exact words.
And I don’t hate him, not now.
But as he stands there, not meeting my eye as our next flight to Perth is called, I begin to suspect that Callum does still hate me.
And who could blame him? Hours after we connected in a very delicious way on the flight here, I pretty much dismissed the idea of us in front of the ex-boyfriend he still suspects I like.
Urgh!
Which brings me nicely to the second reason why today is such a headfuck.
What the hell is going on with Hamish? He’s gone from being monosyllabic and suggesting that I have body odour issues to apologizing for his bad behaviour and offering to bang at Singapore airport.
I can’t wrap my head around what has changed, other than the fact that time has gone mad and maybe living this Monday on repeat is making everyone else go slightly crazy, too?
And if that is the case, then this unsettling situation is feeling more unstable by the minute.
What happens if this just carries on? Will everyone totally lose their marbles?
It brings a fresh sense of urgency to my thoughts.
I need to get out of this mess, and fast, before the walls really do start caving in.
I press my fingers into my temples, willing myself not to freefall into a panic.
‘Moss? You all right?’ It’s Callum, concern darkening his expression. His gaze sets tiny fires burning in my body.
‘Sort of,’ I reply as we head to the desk, handing over boarding cards to be checked. ‘It’s probably the champagne.’
‘You look worried,’ Callum points out, not letting me dismiss this.
We walk along the passenger bridge connecting the departure gate to the plane, and I exhale.
‘I just wanted to say sorry,’ I say, realizing now is my chance to apologize for dismissing whatever it is that’s happening between us just now. ‘I should never have …’
But while I’m pausing to figure out the right way to say ‘I should never have brushed this thing between us under the carpet like that’, Callum fills the silence.
‘It’s fine,’ he says brusquely. ‘It was a mistake.’
‘What?’ I gasp.
He hitches his bag further up his shoulder, casts his gaze back to me for the briefest second. ‘The champagne, the plane vestibule … The kiss.’
‘The kiss was a mistake?’ I whisper, wanting desperately to have misheard that.
‘I should never have done that,’ Callum is saying, and as I look up at him, he seems genuinely cross with himself. ‘You said yourself that you’ve got a lot going on. I’m … I could kick myself. I should never have added to your problems like that. We should just forget about it.’
WHAT THE HELL??!!
I don’t want to forget about it!
I want to do that – with Callum – twenty-four hours a day.
‘Callum, wait,’ I say, but we’ve reached the bloody aircraft and he’s already stepping on board, showing the flight attendant his ticket. ‘Callum,’ I try again, bobbing along behind him to keep up. ‘That’s not … You didn’t …’
But I’m stopped by another attendant.
‘Ma’am, your seat is this way,’ they say, showing me to a different row.
‘Oh no, I’m sitting over there.’ I wave towards where Callum is.
The attendant shows me my boarding pass.
‘No, ma’am. You’re right here.’
Askance, I look around. This isn’t right! Callum is rows away. And in the seat next to mine, is Hamish.
‘What are the chances?’ He beams as I take a very disgruntled seat next to him.
‘Oh my God,’ I reply, head in hands. Everything is shifting and I feel like I’m standing on a wobbleboard.
‘Dude, don’t be sad. The worst bit is over already.’
‘Sorry?’
‘You’ve got the longest leg of the journey out of the way. This last bit feels like a little hop in comparison.’
‘Oh. Right,’ I say dully. I can’t even be bothered to explain to Hamish that I’m not upset about how much of this long haul we’ve got left to get through. For me, my entire life is a long haul right now.
Mindlessly, I twirl a strand of my hair between my fingers as the plane takes off.
Think about how many times Callum has complimented this lion’s mane.
No matter what I do to try and distract myself from thoughts of Callum, my brain finds a path that leads straight back to him.
And believe me, I try. I force myself to find a distraction, thinking about all the clothes I’ve got packed in my suitcase, and end up wondering what I’d wear on a first date with Callum.
He’d be in chinos and a crisp T-shirt, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, just begging for me to take them off.
I think about work and the Aussie engagement party that will probably never happen, but that just leads to Callum too.
Hell, I even think about my favourite brand of tea bags and how in an alternative universe, where I’m not trapped in a time loop, I should probably get to the supermarket to stock up.
Within seconds I’m imagining bumping into Callum at the very same supermarket and wondering what might be in his basket.
In my daydream he’s buying some organic steak, portobello mushrooms and potatoes, which he plans to turn into chips, and he’s inviting me round for dinner at his, and there will be a glass of good red and it turns out he’s a great cook and suddenly we’re naked in his living room.
All to say: every road runs straight to Callum.
And yet he’s made himself pretty clear. He literally told me: ‘We should just forget about it.’
As far as Callum’s concerned, ‘us’ was just a bit of a blip. Something we should try to erase from our memories as soon as possible.
My heart squeezes at this because that’s not what I want.
But then I remember, with crashing certainty, what’s happening right now. I’m shovelling my one millionth Tim Tam into my mouth on yet another flight to Perth, on this mad Monday merry-go-round.
Callum isn’t interested.
And I need to focus. I have got to get myself out of here before things start getting any weirder than they already have.
I switch my attention to my failed attempts to get Hamish to fall back in love with me. To how, now that I’ve stopped trying, he obstinately seems to be doing exactly what I wanted him to do days ago.
It’s got to be a sign, right?
I’m not much of a one for omens, but by this point I am willing to give anything a go.
It’s time to double down on the Hamish escape route.
My head aches as I see how complicated that has now become too.
Fact is, I simply don’t feel the way I felt for Hamish anymore.
Come to think of it, ever since I started looping I’ve been feeling less and less like he’s the one.
The madder things get, the more I’ve fallen away from what I’ve always thought was the right path.
Ever since Hamish flew to Australia all those years ago, I’ve been so sure that he was the one that got away.
People make whole love stories out of that concept, right?
I’ve lost count of how many films I’ve seen all about that trope. Just look at My Best Friend’s Wedding!
Hamish was my Mr Right, I just met him at the wrong time.