Chapter 26
Chapter 26
I t was to Morag’s mild irritation that Calum was as nice as he could be about it. She saw him at the airport at the start of their day.
“She’s just a kid,” he said.
“You think it’s totally obvious that everyone would have a mad crush on you,” she said primly.
Calum shrugged. “I have all my own teeth and an airline,” he said. “I have to tell you it happens quite a lot.”
“What is your current setup anyway?” said Morag, suspiciously. “Aren’t you in, like, a throuple?”
Calum laughed. “Let’s just say I’m flexible.”
“But not flexible enough for Gertie.”
“Sorry,” said Calum. “I’m rich—I can’t help it. I only date really really good-looking people, most of whom are also rich. Is this news?”
“Gertie’s pretty,” said Morag stoutly.
“Yeah, lots of people are ‘pretty.’ You’re pretty,” said Calum. “But you still wouldn’t make the cover of Czechya Grazie .”
“That sounds alarmingly specific,” muttered Morag.
“I mean, of course, you might make a nice calendar of, uh, Scottish lady pilots,” Calum mused.
“Shut up now,” said Morag.
Presently, Gertie arrived. She immediately flushed bright pink when she saw Calum there, and Morag saw it, clear as day. Then Gertie looked at the two of them and instantly twigged what they’d been talking about. Morag realized when she was flying with a big airline she had really resented HR departments with their endless training and nitpicking and checking, but now, she would have very much liked one around. Calum had one of course, but they were still technically a separate company.
The tin shed was an absolutely useless place to have a quiet meeting. People were already milling around waiting on the Glasgow flight, or preparing to take helicopter classes. There was a back office that Pete used to go up to the air traffic control tower, and keep their files in. It was freezing and a mess and made of glass so everyone could see who was in there, but it was the best they could do.
“Uh, Gertie, could you... pop over here?” said Morag. Goodness, she’d only been here a couple of weeks. This was incredibly awkward.
Gertie knew immediately what was up. It had dawned on her very slowly after the ceilidh when she had that unsettling feeling she had done something terribly terribly wrong, and it had taken her a while to scroll back on her laptop to realize what it was. A long, rambling, clearly very drunk email complaining to Calum about breaking their date and how he hadn’t noticed her and... oh God. Gertie had deleted it right away and hoped he’d done the same, but obviously it was too late. She covered her face with her hands. Morag couldn’t help but feel sorry for her.
“Uhm, Gertie?”
“I’m sorry,” choked out Gertie. “I’m really sorry.”
“It’s fine,” said Calum. “I understand.”
And his voice sounded so sweet and gentle Morag got quite annoyed with him, because it didn’t seem a good way to get someone off having a crush on you: by being very very nice to them.
“I think you got caught up because of my stupid aeroplanes,” he said. “I know it’s daft. It was all my dad, really. I know it looks impressive, but it’s just the family business... I’m sorry. I know I’m spoiled. It’s terrible.”
Gertie shook her head. “No,” she said, in her quiet throaty little voice. “It wasn’t. It was you.”
Oddly for a moment Calum looked a bit taken aback by that, like he wasn’t expecting it, or as if it wasn’t something he heard very often.
“Well, anyway...” He coughed. “And obviously, let me say, nice as it might be... we have a strict no-fraternizing staff policy.”
Morag frowned slightly as this was news to her and also they didn’t work for the same company, but every little bit helps.
“So I’m afraid I can’t accept...”
He pulled out the scarf.
Morag gasped. She couldn’t help herself. “What are... you sent him this?”
Gertie flushed harder. She had poured her heart and soul into it. To have it flung back in her face was very hard.
“It’s lovely,” said Calum. “But I just can’t... my, uh, friend, she loved... anyway.”
Morag picked it up. “You made it?” she said again.
Gertie shrugged awkwardly.
“I thought you stopped at penguins. Oh my God, I love it,” said Morag.
Calum looked at it as if he was rather regretting having to give it up.
“Well perhaps I’ve been a little...”
“Were you going to give him anything else?”
Gertie shrugged then and, feeling she had nothing left to lose, opened the box in her drawer. Inside was a beanie, in more resistant wool, done in descending shades of gray with a yellow rim. She had thought he might like that next.
“I would wear this, like, right now,” said Morag. “You are really really talented,” she said, shaking her head. “This stuff is amazing. God, I’d go out with you. Sorry, I mean... We can’t really have this kind of thing at work, Gertie, I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” said Gertie.
Calum looked rather yearningly at the hat, then back to Gertie.
“It was very kind of you to knit for me.”
“I thought with all the helicopters you get on and off, you must get cold early in the morning.”
Calum cleared his throat. “Uhm. Well. You’re right. I do.”
There was a silence.
“Am I... am I getting fired?” said Gertie, finally.
“Oh my God, no, we would never do that,” said Calum quickly. “You’re... you’re wonderful at your job.”
He fingered his scarf-free neck unconsciously.
“Okay well, if we’re all sorted out...” said Morag. She had a flight to get going, including a gaggle of very excited pensioners on a day trip, the types that had to be told they couldn’t go from side to side to look out different windows, without the plane unbalancing quite dramatically, so she’d better get on it.
“Gertie, could you finish check-in?”
“Of course,” said Gertie, jumping up.
She stopped at the door.
“I’m sorry again. For sending you that message. I never should have done. It was very wrong.”
“Don’t mention it,” said Calum, looking rather regretful.