Lily-Anne:You forgot the enchanted library with rolling ladders
Brandon:I think you overestimate the square footage of my humble cottage. But I’ll see what I can do
I smile, a flicker of warmth stirring as I reread the messages, wondering if he’s smiling too.
Or is he facepalming, regretting that he invited me to stay?
I close the chat, my smile fading.
He’s just being polite. I know that. He was my dad’s friend and colleague. He probably sees me as someone he’s doing a favour for—an obligation he couldn’t quite say no to.
And I’m imposing on his hospitality. Ellenor said as much when I accepted his invitation to visit him in Whitstable.
I think about messaging Brandon again. Just to clarify,Are you sure this is okay?
But I already know how that would come across. Needy and insecure.
So I don’t.
I’m moving towards the gate when my phone buzzes.
He’s messaged again.
Brandon:Let me know if you need anything when you land. Tea? Coffee?
I chew my lip, deliberating. I don’t want to inconvenience him more than I already am.
Lily-Anne:That’s okay, I’m all good
I take five steps, then stop in my tracks. Something about his offer softens the edge of my nerves.
Lily-Anne:Actually…coffee?
Brandon:Of course. How do you take it?
Lily-Anne:Milk and sugar please :)
I stare at the smiley face. Too much? Not enough?
I snort quietly.I’ve just turned coffee into an existential crisis.
Above me, a voice crackles over the PA system.“Final boarding call for Emirates flight EK415, codeshare Qantas flight QF8415, to Dubai. All remaining passengers should proceed to Gate 61 immediately—”
“Oh, shoot!”
I shove the phone in my pocket and bolt for the gate, guitar case swinging wildly in my hand. Gate numbers flit by, none of them right. I’m further away than I realised.
“Shit, shit, shit.”
If I miss my once-in-a-lifetime, soul-searching quest to find myself because I was reading a bloody gossip magazine, I’ll never live it down.
I rush to the counter.
“Hi—sorry. Did I make it…?” I puff, handing my passport and boarding pass to the flight attendant.
She smiles like she sees five of me a day. “Straight down the jet bridge.”
Dazed, I enter the narrow tunnel. Glass walls shimmer with morning light, my footsteps echoing around me as if I’m walking through a dream. A low thrill rises with every step, the rumble of the plane growing louder.
