The last thing I remember is Callum and I walking through Perth airport and being hit by a luggage buggy. The nauseating thud as my head hit the floor. The sound of someone screamingfor an ambulance. I squeeze my eyes shut as flashes of memory come back to me like dappled light through a tree. Blood pumps loudly in my ears as I recollect somebody saying: ‘I can’t find a pulse.’ I remember feeling like a television being turned off. Only it wasn’t a TV, or a dream, it was me.
Jesus H, did Idieat Perth airport?
And have I travelled back in time?
Nope. Can’t be. I’m just tired, that’s all. It’s the stress of getting this job right, isn’t it? I must be having the kind of sustained déjà vu that scientists have never heard of before. People don’t time-travel, I remind myself shakily as I scramble up and off the airport floor, dusting myself down.
Silly Nina.
I just need to crack on and try not to worry. I’ve got myself all worked up over nothing, I decide, migrating towards Accessorize and browsing the sunglasses. But that unsettling feeling doesn’t shift as I find myself having the exact same conversation with Penny, in which she admires my hair down and then claims I’m still not over Hamish.
‘Look at you, you’re literally wearing rose-tinted glasses.’ She pouts on screen.
This pulls me up.
This is new.
‘I … I’m sorry, what?’ I stumble. This is definitely not something Penny said in last night’s dream, and I know that for sure because for the shortest period, the swaying sensation that’s been making me feel dizzy all morning stops. A brief respite where for a moment, everything feels fresh and new again.
‘The sunglasses you’re trying on?’ She tilts her head and looks at me like I’ve lost the plot. Which tracks. ‘The lenses are pink!’
I stare at the thumbnail.
She’s right, these sunglasses are rose-tinted.
‘They’re cute, you should get them,’ Penny adds, and I’m backto swaying again. But I do feel more positive. There’s a glimmer of hope. For the first time today, something new has happened. Maybe this has just been a glitch, after all. Which is a relief, because the idea that I woke up yesterday was very silly indeed. What is this, a time warp?! For a start, I could have picked a better moment for it. As far as reliving past events go, I’d happily recreate my meet-cute with Hamish every day for the rest of my life. Or, better still, the night we went out for dinner and he painted this beautiful picture of our future selves, pottering around in a cute house by the sea with a dog. And then there’s the whole time-warps-don’t-exist thing.
‘Lose the hat,’ Penny’s saying. ‘It’s giving grandad-goes-to-Panama.’
‘Pen,’ I say suddenly, wondering if maybe she’s going through whatever this is too. ‘Are you okay?’
She frowns at me. ‘Fine, why d’you say it like that?’
‘I don’t know. Everything feels a bit off today, that’s all.’
‘It’s Monday, love. They’re the worst.’
‘You love Mondays!’ I reply.
She pulls a face and I bring my phone closer to study her, concerned.
‘Pen, what is it? You seem upset.’
‘I’m not sure I do love Mondays anymore. I reckon I’m having an existential crisis.’
‘What? Since when! Why haven’t you said anything before now?’
‘It started literally moments ago, when you woke me up.’
‘Oh crap,’ I say. ‘I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to crank up a crisis.’
‘Not your fault, love. I’m just feeling a bit meh about work today, that’s all. I’m sure it’ll pass.’
This is so unlike Penny, who adores her marketing job and is generally perkier than a children’s TV presenter.
I frown down the phone at her. ‘Keep talking to me, please,’ I say.
‘Don’t look so worried! No doubt it’s just Monday blues. I’ll be fine. Now you go and vanquish that work enemy of yours, while I go and get a shower. Okay? Love you, byeeee.’
