Chapter 13
THE BAGS
The baggage carousel is going round and round, but our suitcases are nowhere to be seen.
The flight was on time, so where is our luggage?
I start to feel a bit panicky. I need my toothbrush!
I need my clothes! I need my charger and my straighteners and my make-up and my PJs and my trainers.
And Kayla is certainly not dressed for the west of Ireland in those towering stilettos and that mini pink jacket.
She’s going to need whatever she’s packed to make it through this trip.
‘No more bags?’ I ask the airline rep hovering nearby.
‘Nope. Sorry. It happens a lot, not just to you. You’re not that special!’ He grins at me, and I give a feeble smile in return.
Reality begins to kick in as my gaze shifts from Kayla to the spacious bag belt.
This is really happening. We have nothing but the clothes on our backs.
But way worse than that, every document I’d carefully gathered for James, as well as my irreplaceable art supplies, is tucked away in that suitcase that’s now missing.
Without it I’m screwed – I have nothing – nothing to sign with, nothing to work with, nothing at all.
Everything of legal value is somewhere else… Goof-proof, indeed.
Kayla trots off to the loo while I head over to the lost luggage desk. The woman behind the counter takes down my details and assures me that they’ll do their best to find my suitcase. She gives me a dizzying stack of forms to fill out and a reference number.
I race back to the carousel, eyes darting around desperately as if I could will my missing luggage into view.
I leaf through a seemingly endless pile of paperwork, each line more confusing and complicated than the last. Each tiny word blurs together until I’m in a panicked stupor.
But what choice do I have but to follow the instructions and hope for the best?
It’s out of my control so I reach for a pen and try to make sense of it all.
My handwriting becomes erratic and my breathing quickens as I grapple with understanding what the documents are asking me to do, but if I don’t get that suitcase back soon, both James O’Connor’s and my trip will have been pointless, an utter waste of everyone’s precious time.
I return to the desk and drop off my filled-out paperwork. Kayla’s completely distracted by a new friend she just met in the restroom complimenting her make-up, so she doesn’t seem fazed at all if our bags ever show up or not…
The woman behind the counter takes it from me and sighs. ‘Ah.’
‘Ah?’
‘Aha.’
‘Aha?’
I pray aha isn’t some sort of Gaelic for uh-oh.
‘Well, it seems your luggage never left London.’
I can’t believe it. Our suitcases are still in London! How on earth are we going to get them?
‘Okay, at least they know where they are. That’s something,’ says Kayla.
The woman behind the counter gives me a great big smile. ‘Sure, that’s brilliant news!’ she says.
I stare at her in disbelief. ‘How is this good news?’ I ask incredulously.
‘Well, it means it’s not lost! It means we know where it is! Usually the luggage just vanishes, without a trace, like a veritable Baggage Bermuda Triangle – how’s that for a tongue-twister, eh! I wouldn’t chance that one after a few whiskies.’
I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry.
‘Sometimes, they turn up, months later… Mexico, India… we even had one case turn up in New Zealand, can you believe it? But it’s very rare.’ It sounds like this is all just a great big game to everyone, except me.
‘So, what do I do now?’ I ask.
‘Well, we’ll put a trace on your luggage and let you know as soon as it arrives.’
‘And how long will that take?’
‘Oh, anywhere from a few days to six weeks – it varies, but don’t you worry, as soon as it arrives, we’ll give you a call. Oh, yes, bet your bottom dollar, we will be straight on the blower to deliver the wonderful news…’ She’s beaming at me now, as if this is the best thing she’s heard all day.
Well, at least my luggage isn’t lost forever, and I might even get it back one day. But six weeks? I’m going to have to buy some new clothes…
‘And, in the meantime, here’s a toiletries kit to tide you over.’ The woman behind the counter offers us two small cotton pouches, presenting them as if they’re made of solid gold. We thank her for her thoughtfulness and generosity.
Inside are a few essentials – though the toothbrush is barely larger than my pinky and the deodorant already smells of teen armpits. But beggars can’t be choosers – or any kind of judge!
I take a deep breath, reminding myself that this was what I wanted, an adventure. I nod and try to smile. ‘Okay, thank you.’
The woman looks up from her computer and gives me a sympathetic smile. ‘We’ll try our best to get both your bags to you as soon as possible.’
I thank her and leave the desk, feeling a bit deflated.
I let out a deep sigh as I loop my arm with Kayla’s, trying to shake off the feeling that this was all pointless.
Maybe I should just cut my losses and book a flight back home tomorrow.
I knew it was foolish to hold on to hope, but I couldn’t help myself.
I wanted to believe that there was a chance to salvage this mess and make it all worth it.
But now, as I wait, I feel the weight of disappointment bearing down on me, threatening to drag me under.
Kayla nudges me, a small smile on her face. ‘We’ll get our bags, don’t worry. I have a feeling they’ll turn up soon.’
I roll my eyes, but I’m secretly grateful for her optimism. It’s infectious and helps keep the hope alive.
Kayla looks at me with concern. ‘Are you okay?’
I nod and let out a deep sigh. ‘Yeah, it’s just… I’m feeling a bit helpless without my things. Everything I need for the lawyer is in that bag.’
Kayla nods in understanding. ‘I know, but it’s not the end of the world.’ She places a hand on my shoulder and says in a comforting tone, ‘Don’t worry, Daisy. We can handle this – if there’s anything that living in care taught us it’s how to make do.’
Without Kayla, I can’t even imagine what my life would be like.
My breath catches at the thought of a world without her in it.
How could I have gone on living if not for her unwavering kindness and support?
Tears prick my eyes as I offer her a small, grateful smile.
To think that I’m so lucky to have had her by my side all these years – she’s the best friend anyone could ask for. She’s my best friend.
She’s been like an anchor throughout all our rushed packing and leaving, through the highs and lows we faced while growing up together.
When she holds my hand tightly in hers, the truth of how much she means to me suddenly becomes crystal clear.
In this moment, I understand just how precious our friendship is.
‘Anyone we should call?’ she asks.
I have the contact details of James O’Connor tucked into my pocket; I could call to let him know that I’m missing my luggage.
But I’m hesitant. How can I settle the will without any documents?
I don’t want my first conversation in Ireland with James to be about me being at a loss, appearing as though I’m a complete hot mess – no luggage, no plan, no papers.
For some reason, I don’t want to seem helpless around him.
Maybe because of the way he straightened out that fight in the pub or that he came all the way to London to keep a promise to a friend; whatever it is, I feel compelled to make a good impression.
Kayla and I exchange looks.
‘Hope you like wearing those clothes, because you’ll be in them for a while,’ I tease.
She starts giggling. ‘It’s only for a few days,’ she says. ‘Might as well use this as an excuse to go shopping when we get there. Now, come on! We have a bus to catch.’ Kayla checks the board and beams. ‘The bus leaves from outside the airport in ten minutes.’
‘If we hurry, we could make it!’ I declare. I glance down at Kayla’s stiletto boots. They must be at least four inches high. ‘It’s almost worth it to see you running in those heels.’ I laugh.
She takes a deep breath, straightens her back and turns to face me, a sly grin growing across her face. ‘You just watch me,’ she replies before sprinting down the footpath with astonishing speed and grace.
The sound of tapping heels is soon echoed by our laughter as we reach the exit. Paperwork, paints and fresh pants – who needs ’em when you’ve got your best gal pal? I’m rolling with my dearest friend and that’s worth more than anything to me.
Onward to Innisfree.