Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
W hen Jack’s text arrived I was about to climb into bed. It lit up my phone the same way it lit up my world. His name stared back at me in capitals. I opened his message and it was one of those moments when everything stops, including your breath, and you can’t quite catch it again.
Hey, how’s it going? x
‘Fuck.’ I whispered. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ Louder that time. ‘Jesus.’
I typed, then deleted, then typed, then deleted.
Hey!
Hi, I’m all good, how’s it going for you?
Hey stranger…
Hey Turbo!
Hi, Jack, good to hear from you…
I think I’m in love with you
I miss you.
I wish you were here.
Fuck, penis, turbo, too big, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, trees, trees, trees…
I’m missing you.
I had a great time, thanks again for the hospitality…
He misses me!
Anytime : ) How was your flight?
Long! Good to be back in the sun, though!
It’s raining here : (
You should come to NZ then – lots of sunshine here!
I would love to!
Hop on a plane and come on over, lol! I could give you your present…
Oh my God, a present?! He got me a present!!
What is it?
A pearl necklace ; )
Maybe I will then… Missing you too by the way…
* * *
I had never taken any holiday from O’Callaghan’s. I must have been entitled to a whole year’s worth, but I didn’t see the point in taking time off to do nothing. My mother often tried to get me to have a hobby, an interest of some sort – and it wasn’t that I didn’t have any. I liked running, for example, and even swimming, when I wasn’t thinking about what might be coming out of people’s bodies and onto my own.
But none of those things involved taking time off work. I swam in the evenings during the week, on and off (Sally had an outdoor swimming pool at the farm, which wasn’t particularly hot but it beat going to a public one, for obvious reasons) and I ran when the mood took me, usually up The New Line, and around the village.
When I’d texted Una about Jack’s pearl necklace comment, she’d emailed me the flight details again under the subject line: PEARL’S TURBO PENIS ADVENTURES. An open ticket, with a stop off at Kuala Lumpur, and a five-hour wait at the airport. I could sit and have a cup of tea and not have to worry, the place would be full of antibacterial wipes if I were to need more.
I’d already checked how much sanitiser I could bring – 100ml, which would get me there, and I could buy more once I’d landed. I could avoid using the plane toilet if I made sure I went before both flights at the airport. How hard could it be to hold in a wee for fourteen hours? I remembered how small the cubicles were from my trip to England. There was no way I could do everything in there without touching something, and then what? How would I shower?
My simple life had its perks. I had more than enough money to stay for as long as I wanted to because my outgoings were so low. I had my house, I didn’t own a car, my job covered the cost of living. When my grandmother died, she’d left me so much money I had actually considered giving some of it away to a charity, but Una had talked me out of it.
I stared at Una’s email. If I went for a few weeks I could be back before the end of the summer (even though technically September isn’t summer, it still felt like that sometimes), like a mini summer holiday only on the other side of the world. The other side of the world . I felt sick just thinking about it.
When I looked at a map, which I had done on repeat since Jack had left, I felt dizzy. There were so many places the plane could come down, like the Indian Ocean or Saudi Arabia, and I would never be found.
I tried to ignore the plane that was on fire in my head and keep my focus on Jack. Two weeks was nothing. I could do two weeks, instead of three. I glanced down at my open passport on my lap (I’d dug it out from underneath my bed, where it had been buried) and completed the booking page. I hovered over the flight details, then closed my eyes and clicked on the confirm button. I heard the ping of my confirmation email but I kept my eyes shut tight as I thought of only one thing.
At least Una would be wrong about me dying having barely left Drangan.