Chapter 28
SCARLETT
My legs turn to jelly as soon as I board the tram back to the airport on Sunday afternoon.
Justin is sitting in the middle of the carriage to the right of me.
A young lad sits behind him on his phone.
Justin leans towards the woman on the aisle seat opposite and says something quietly.
She must be his wife, Beth, who he mentioned to the woman at the bar last night.
She looks older than him. Her face is grey and round with puffy skin around her eyes and flushed cheeks.
She rummages through her bag and hands him a packet of tissues.
Last night, I lay awake for hours, berating myself for not getting to speak to him during the conference. He must’ve gone back to his wife straight after his talk because I never saw him again. It felt like this trip had been a very expensive waste of time. I might as well not have bothered.
That was until now.
I don’t think twice. I can’t waste another opportunity. I need to seize my chance.
It feels as if some kind of invisible force – pushed along by my grief and my sister’s hand firmly on my back – powers me along the carriage until I’m standing between Justin and his wife. My heart hammers in my throat.
He smiles at me. A smile that lights up his sharp green eyes.
I smile back. He offers me a seat. I decline and make up some silly comment about having plenty of time to sit on my flight.
As he asks me where I’m going, I glance at the woman sitting in the seat behind him, holding a bag with I love Stockholm written across the front, and I blurt out, ‘I’m on my way to Stockholm. ’
We strike up a conversation, my lies coming as fast as the tram hurtling its way to the airport.
I make up some story about visiting my boyfriend when he asks me what takes me to Sweden.
But I don’t even know if there are flights from Edinburgh to Stockholm this evening.
Think, Scarlett. Think. I concoct another lie about having to fly via Stansted.
I tell him I have a stopover and will be flying to Stockholm in the morning.
Each lie spins into the next, a tangled web I’m weaving with no backup plan to save me if I fall.
Then I realise we’re on the same flight.
Beth fidgets in her seat as he chats to me.
I can feel her eyes boring into me. She interrupts him mid-sentence, waving her phone at him.
He produces a battery pack from his bag on the floor between his legs.
She plugs her phone into it, side-eyeing me all the while.
To break the tension, I compliment her necklace.
A crazy statement because it’s only a plain silver cross, but its size catches my eye and, not to be unkind, there’s little else I can think to compliment her on.
The tram stops at the station. I panic. I don’t want to lose him. I need to talk to him some more. He stands and helps his wife up. Before I know it, he wishes me a safe flight, and they merge with the crowds surging towards the terminal.
My heart races as I wait in the background, fiddling with the locket around my neck, pretending to scroll on my phone while they check in their suitcases. When they’ve finished, I follow them into Duty Free. They separate. Beth drifts to the cosmetics, Justin to the aftershaves.
I stalk him, lingering by a sunglasses display, pretending to browse as I watch him in my peripheral vision.
Justin starts chatting to a sales assistant.
She gives him a gushing smile as he charms her.
Then he strikes up a conversation with the customer behind him while waiting in the queue to pay.
He clearly likes talking to strangers. He digs into his pocket, produces a business card and hands it to the man.
I tense and release my fists, preparing to deliberately bump into him when he’s finished paying.
I can’t let him go. I feel compelled to talk to him, fuelled by the mental image of Daisy urgently poking my shoulder and whispering in my ear: He’ll tell you what really happened to me.
My sister isn’t backing off. And neither am I.
Just as Justin is about to pay, Beth returns and hands him a shopping basket loaded with beauty products. He takes it willingly, smiling and nodding as she holds up a box of cream. Suddenly, the need to pee overcomes me. I have no choice but to leave them.
At the gate, I hang back and wait, scanning every face that passes, but I don’t see them. Perhaps I got it wrong, and they are on a later flight. I remember there being one when I was searching for flights. Damn. I’m an idiot. I should’ve taken my chance while I had it.
With priority boarding because of my cabin bag, I get on the plane. I find my seat in row fifteen and watch, waiting to see if they board. Passengers shuffle down the aisle, dodging people packing bags into the overhead lockers and bickering about who gets the window seat.
Soon Justin and Beth appear. Adrenaline pulses through me. I slide down into my seat, enough to see him guide her with a hand in the small of her back into a seat five rows ahead of me.
As the plane fills, Justin gets up to use the bathroom. I pretend to get something out of my rucksack from under the seat in front. The plane door thumps closed. An announcement tells everyone to fasten their seat belts. The seat next to Justin remains empty.
The chance is here, waiting for me to take it.
I stand and walk to their row. Beth is asleep, head lolling against the window, mouth agape, a thin dribble running down her chin. Slipping into the aisle seat, I wait, hands clasped in my lap, and my heart beating so loudly in my ears, I’m surprised that I haven’t woken her.
Justin returns. He pauses to chat to the air hostess securing the overhead locker opposite. When he gets to me, I stand up to let him pass.
He starts chatting as easily as he chatted to that redhead at the bar last night. ‘I’m Justin, by the way.’ He holds out his hand. I offer mine. He holds it for a moment too long as we shake, his eyes not leaving mine.
The woman in front of me shifts. Her seat jolts.
She stands to remove her cardigan. Her long blonde hair reminds me of that waitress in the café opposite the offices of A Meeting of Minds in Primrose Hill – Immy.
The woman who used to work for Justin. The one who flicked back her long blonde hair to reveal her name tag.
So when Justin asks me my name, I reply, ‘Immy.’
He blinks twice, quickly, then smiles.