‘Yes. It does a bit.’
I ponder the connection between my mother and Mick, as well as why she’d avoided relationships in the past. Was it merely because of me? Or him? Someone else maybe? Or was there no definite cause at all?
I stretch out my arm and wave to the flight attendant with the drinks cart. Maybe not all ghosts are players or small Victorian children.
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’mscrewed – 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 andassures 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.’ Itsounds 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…
