Dubai was hot.
I’d never had an inclination to travel. If I wanted to see the world I could Google it or watch a documentary, maybe read a book. I had considered moving abroad permanently, moving to somewhere where I could be a wildlife vet and stay. But the call back to my parents and family had always been too strong, so instead, like birds for English summers, I’d travelled home, taken holidays in England and Scotland, sometimes Ireland if I braved crossing the Irish sea or taking a short flight.
Yet here I was again, taking a stupidly long trip to do the work I loved and maybe find somewhere I could be for longer again. Africa – the work with the baboons especially – had been on my hit list since I’d seen the videos Callum Callaghan had uploaded to his YouTube channel because I had followed him, as had most of the animal-loving world and those who got off on men who looked like Clark Kent with bigger pecs and biceps. His videos and feeds on social media had fascinated me. Callum hid in plain sight, the joker play-boy who charmed the ladies as well as snakes and had us all eating out of the palm of his hand. He was beautiful, smart and gifted.
As well as being a total dick.
“If I offer to carry you bags will you blind me or something?”
I shook my head as we walked towards the pick-up point. “I can manage.”
“Fucking women.” He muttered it, but he meant for it to be heard.
I decided that ignoring him would irritate him more than responding and pulled the large suitcase even though it was heavy. I’d carried and moved heavier. Large animal vets didn’t get to be shrinking violets when it came to physical graft.
The sun blared down, my unprotected skin already feeling as if it was being dehydrated. I was completely unprepared for this trip. Mentally and practically, I wasn’t ready to be here; there had been too much to do at home, to many loose ends that had been left like poisonous snakes in a cage.
“There’s our guy.” I recognised Abel, one of the production crew. He was leaning on a Mercedes and I hoped to God that it had air conditioning that worked well.
“Time to make the most of the six-star hotel.” Callum shot me his dazzling white grin. “And the pool. And working showers.”
“And dust-free floors and privacy.” I knew we were going to end up roughing it on a couple of occasions. One of the parks we were visiting had a project for us that would require a night or two in a hide while we waited to help treat a couple of black rhinos that had picked up injuries.
“All of that. Not sure which I’ll like best though.”
His smile was genuine this time. One thing I remembered about Callum Callaghan was that his love for animals and being a veterinarian was absolutely indisputable. He’d lived for his course at university, never missing a lecture, attending anything extra, putting the time in even when we all knew that he was going to come almost top anyway. And he managed it while still being the centre of most parties.
Mister Charisma.
“I know. I can’t wait to see the stars.”
“It’s amazing. You’ll love it.”
I felt the warmth radiate off him and smiled without planning it. This was how Callum worked: he’d be so sincere and open and as soon as anyone became remotely close, he pulled away like you were a rabid monkey.
“You’ll love the hotel too.” Abel chucked our cases into the boot of the car. “We’re in the one next door. It’s lacking two of your stars but it’s still bloody good.”
“I feel bad now.”
Abel shook his head. “Don’t. Last programme I was working on was set in this northern town where the best hotel would’ve been a minus one. I ended up sleeping in my car the bed was that bad.”
I got in the car, immediately appreciating the coolness of the air-con, although in five minutes I’d be cold. Over-sensitive to temperature. That was me. Callum got in the back next to me, which surprised me. He didn’t say anything, just smiled as if he knew something which I didn’t, which maybe he did.
I checked my phone, having finally switched it on while we were waiting for our luggage. I had six unread messages, none of which were filling me with joy.
Dad:Hope your flight was calm. Have a great time and make the most of the opportunity. We’re heading out to Whitby for the weekend.
I didn’t respond, not yet. I’d send him a photo of the hotel later, let them see how grand it was then they could infer that I was happy.
Matt:I can’t believe you left. You could’ve postponed your flight.
Matt:Shouldn’t be surprised. Just shows how selfish you are.
Matt:I have the dinner with the partners in three weeks. They’re expecting you to be there. I’m assuming you’ll be flying home for it.
I sighed and closed my eyes. I wouldn’t be making a thirty-hour round trip, more when you included the stop-over time, to go home for his meal. I wouldn’t have done a sixty-minute round trip either. My phone vibrated in my hand and I glanced at the screen. Another message from Matt.
Matt:I know you’ve seen my messages. Can I have confirmation that you’ll be there. This is a serious point in determining our future. If I get this promotion, you’d be able to work part-time.
