‘Please, refund the card of the person who paid for the upgrade,’ she told the attendant. ‘And put me back in economy. I’ll be fine there.’
By the time she was on the plane from Glasgow to Campbeltown – the smallest she had ever flown in, with only two other passengers – Carli’s wooziness had morphed into nausea and her legs jelly, like she’d run a marathon. Employing the tactic of distraction, she tried to focus on the Scottish tapestry that they were drifting across. Over the metallic urban sprawl of Glasgow they rose, above green fields, blue lochs and purple hills to the western edge of the mainland, past the craggy coastline of the Isle of Bute and over the larger earthy, emerald Isle of Arran. The scenery reflected her experience of the country the last time she had been. Some parts were rich and green, others deep and blue. The hardest part of all had been leaving. Leaving Niall. Thank goodness she never had to go through that again.
As the plane reached the Kintyre peninsula, it was as if a thick ribbon of emotion was being wrapped around Carli’s chest. Hundreds of feet below was the rich and vibrant land she loved all those years ago. Her mother’s home. The place Carli had been born and lived until she was five, before her father convinced her mother to move to his native Australia. Distinctly, as if it were yesterday, she remembered, aged twelve, her mum winning the battle to come back home because her own mother, Carli’s grandmother, was sick.
Two years later, both Carli’s maternal grandmother and mother were dead, and the world flipped on its axis.
Thank goodness for the Butlers. She was luckyto have friends like Eilidh and Cara. Fortunate that Amanda and Jimmy had been there for her when her own father was too distracted, too selfish, too useless. Around the Butler family dinner table was a place of incredible safety for Carli. There and in the arms of one of their sons.
The one son who was, thankfully, not here. Carli did not need to deal with motion sickness, Fibromyalgia, memories of her dead mother plus the boy who’d shattered her heart. One of those would have been enough.
Campbeltown airport, which, according to the pilot, had the longest runway in the UK, was otherwise barely recognisable as an airport. The terminal building could have been the house of someone who cared little for welcoming exteriors. In the absence of a baggage-claim carousel, luggage was deposited on the floor in a corner by the door. Carli smiled, imagining this set-up at Melbourne airport where sniffer dogs roamed twenty-four seven and you could get fined for bringing in a banana from Brisbane.
Eilidh was waiting for her inside the main building, with the same wild blonde hair she’d had as a teenager, a generous and effervescent smile as wide as the distance Carli had flown and a warm hug that more than compensated for leaving the Australian sunshine behind.
‘It’s amazing to see you, you haven’t changed at all.’ Eilidh’s voice bounced like a child’s rubber ball, taking Carli right back to the days when she’d first forged a bond with Niall’s younger sister, after being introduced by Niall. Eilidh’s warmth and enthusiasm for anything and everything warmed Carli to the core. It must be a family trait.
‘Thanks. You look incredible. So lovely, so vibrant.’Eilidh was like a windswept Scottish island in human form – welcoming, but hardy, and with its own unique character.
‘Ha. It’s nervous energy. Comes with the territory of being a teacher. I’m out like a log at night. Speaking of which, you must be exhausted.’ No doubt Eilidh could hear the fatigue in Carli’s voice. ‘Come on, let’s get to the car and get you home to rest.’
But once the doors were shut, she turned to Carli and her expression changed, the Scottish summer day now with a storm on the horizon.
‘Listen, Carli, I hate to do this the second you get here, but there’s something I need to tell you.’
‘Oh.’ Carli wasn’t sure she could take much more nausea, but Eilidh’s tone was certainly inducing it.
‘It’s Niall,’ she said.
‘Niall? What about him? Is he okay?’ Carli’s first thought was that he’d had some sort of accident and died. A hangover from the circumstances of her mother’s death, anytime anyone spoke in hushed, foreboding tones and said things like, “I’m afraid it’s Sandra,” she feared the worst.
‘He’s… here,’ said Eilidh.
‘He’s… here?’ Carli repeated Eilidh’s words like a useless echo, her subconscious buying time, trying to process this. ‘Niall’s here? Here, here?’
‘Not here, here, at the airport, but he’s back in Kinshore,’ Eilidh explained. ‘I’m sorry. He turned up two days ago. Only Sean was in on it.’
The ribbon of emotion that had been wrapping around Carli earlier tightened around her heart and her gut. Her stomach should be settling now she was on solid ground, yet it was like she was on a plane with the doors blown open, exposed to the burning wind, spinning and hurtling into the wild peninsula below where only a crash landing wasinevitable. It had been two hours since she’d ventured a packet of nuts at Glasgow airport, but they could be on their way to greet her again.
Be polite. He’s her brother. And you haven’t seen her in ages.
‘Oh, okay,’ was all she could manage. ‘That’s a lovely surprise for you all.’
‘For us, yes, but I wish I could’ve let you know, although I would still have wanted you to come. But listen, he’s headed to Sean’s for a bit while you get settled in and he can stay there as long as he has to.’
‘It’s okay, Eilidh. To be honest, all I want is to get into my PJs and sleep. The travelling has stuffed me up and I’m a bit of a mess. I’ll worry about the Niall thing after I’ve slept.’
‘Oh, you poor thing. Is it that Fibro-whatsit?’
‘Yeah, flying’s always a struggle. I’ll be right in the morning.’ Carli hoped she sounded convincing.
‘And try not to worry. He’s the same old numpty as before.’
The same old numpty. She had bloody loved that numpty.
But it was so long ago.
Why does it suddenly feel like last week, then?
