Chapter Twenty-Three
TWENTY-THREE
We’re coming in to land and my stomach is in knots. Definitely not helped by the mad amounts of wind buffeting the plane. This is new. We haven’t had such bad turbulence on our descent into Perth before.
I squeeze my eyes shut and pray it isn’t an omen.
‘It’s going to be okay,’ Callum says, taking my hand in his.
I give him a weak grin, reassured by his presence but still incredibly on edge.
It’s a strange feeling, getting off a plane and knowing that you are likely walking directly into the path of your own inevitable death.
I’ve grown oddly used to it over the past week or so, and as I look back I realize that at times, I’ve positively embraced the screeching tyres of the luggage buggy, which is …
quite dark. The more frustrated I was with the situation, the more blasé I became about my tragic and sombre demise.
I’ve read interviews with people who’ve been in life-or-death situations, and talked extensively about how it feels to face your own mortality.
Without fail they talk about how their experiences have made them want to live each day like it’s their last, to seize every opportunity.
And there’s the gratitude, too. The feeling of being so fortunate to still be here.
As I look over at Callum, gratitude ranks high up there for me, too.
This silly world we’re living in makes no sense, and I’m so tired even my hair hurts.
What is that?! But today has been the best Monday yet.
With this beautiful man by my side, I feel ready to take on whatever is thrown our way.
It’s so funny to look back on my decisions over these past few days.
How my rose-tinted glasses made me believe that an ex-boyfriend was the way out of here.
And then, when he quite clearly was not, how I thought I needed to find the strength to go it alone.
But now that I think on it, I see that I already was strong.
And then along came Callum, the missing piece of my jigsaw puzzle, and everything finally made as much sense as it can when you’re living in a silly old time loop.
‘I pick you,’ I tell him, reaching out to catch his passport before it falls to the floor as we walk towards passport control.
‘You do?’
‘Yup. It’s been you all along, I just needed a minute.’
‘A minute?’ Callum laughs. ‘You mean, nine months of shouting at me?’
‘You started it.’
He sighs good-naturedly. ‘I have a feeling that you, Nina Moss, are going to be trouble.’
‘That’s funny, because I was thinking the exact same thing about you.’
He pulls me close, and I savour the feeling of being tucked up against him. It feels like home.
‘Shall we?’ he asks, and I follow his gaze.
We’ve reached baggage reclaim. He grabs our bags off the carousel. We’re ready to make our way to arrivals, the scene of our devastating destiny, and it’s all suddenly too much.
I burst into tears.
‘Hey,’ Callum says softly, dropping his bag and pulling me close again. He runs a soothing hand through my hair, murmurs sweet sounds into my ear. ‘It’s going to be okay,’ he whispers.
‘Is it? How can you be so sure? I just don’t want this day to end. Not like this. I … hate … that … buggy,’ I stutter through hiccupy sobs.
‘I know.’
‘What if we just stayed here forever? Camp up right by the baggage carousel and instigate squatters rights or something? Just me and you, standing still, forever.’
‘I don’t think that’s an option.’ He shakes his head sadly.
‘Why?’
‘Because I already tried it. This morning, when my alarm went off, I tried everything in my power not to get to the airport. I’d decided that if you weren’t even going to be there, then what was the point.
But that’s when stuff started to get really weird.
My taxi driver somehow got inside my block of flats and came to knock directly on my door, which I thought was a gross intrusion. ’
‘You’ve been getting a cab to the airport each day?’ I sniff. ‘Bougie.’
‘That’s what you took from that?’ He smiles down at me.
‘Please continue.’
‘Then when I got to Heathrow, I turned and tried walking away from the airport, but angry-looking travellers with those luggage trolleys kept blocking my way. There must have been about six of them. It was so disturbing I turned and went right back into the airport.’
‘I experienced something similar,’ I say.
Callum nods. ‘I reckon we’ve got to do this. And today, we’re doing it together. That has to count for something.’
‘Okay,’ I say shakily, eyeing up the scene of our future death.
‘I’m going to think of all the things I’m looking forward to in the future.
A shower. Sleeping in a bed. Eating things that don’t come in tiny plastic trays.
Fresh vegetables. Another shower. Washing my hair.
Apple-scented shampoo. A moisturizing mask.
Swimming in the sea. Going for a run. Coconut water. Fresh air. The sun on my skin.’
I turn to Callum and see that he’s watching me intently.
‘How about you?’ I ask.
‘I’m going to think about you.’
Butterflies take flight at this, and I find myself smiling broadly in spite of the huge waves of fear and emotion crashing through me.
‘Are you ready?’ he asks, taking my hand.
‘As I’ll ever be.’
Side by side, we walk towards the exit.