‘Nina Moss?’ He beams. ‘No way. It’s been years!’
Oh my gosh, this is perfect. Hamish seems genuinely pleased to see me today, probably because I’m basically his knight in shining armour at this point.
‘Well, well, well, if it isn’t Hamish McKellan.’ I return his smile, anticipation building.
‘As I live and breathe,’ he says, settling into the seat next to mine. ‘It’s good to see you.’
‘You too. It’s been a while.’
‘What are we saying, ten years?’
‘Something like that,’ I say, even though I know precisely how many years and possibly also how many days it has been. I stopped myself before I calculated the hours because thatwouldhave been a step too far.
Hamish twists in his seat to look at me as the plane begins to taxi, and I find myself diving right into those beautiful blue eyes of his.
‘You look great,’ he says.
‘Oh, thanks,’ I reply, bashfully tucking some loose red curls behind my ear. ‘So do you.’
‘There’s life in the old dog yet,’ he says. ‘So, Nina! What are the chances? Are you flying on to Australia or stopping at Singapore.’
‘All the way to Perth.’
‘Well, then, it looks like we’ve got plenty of time to catch up. I want to hear all about what you’ve been up to. Did you get that big shiny job in the city you always wanted?’
Be still, my beating heart. This is it!Thisis the Hamish I remember. Engaged and interested and thoughtful. He’s actually asking me questions, which is already a huge improvement on meet-cute #2, and something else has shifted, too. He seems genuinely interested, whereas last time it felt like he just wanted a chance to talk about himself before shutting down the conversation. Could it be that the more time I spend with him, the more he’s becoming the man I fell in love with all those years ago?
A glimmer of hope ignites and I start to wonder if I’m gettingit right today, making the right choices. Today’s Hamish feels like proof that different days can affect everything – your mood, the way you interact with people … It strikes me that so much of life hangs on those tiny, incremental decisions we make. Of course I do know that this is, technically, the same day, but I’m struck by the distinct impression that the way I approached bumping into Hamish this time has changed everything.
At this point, thoughts of Callum claw their way into my brain. A nagging feeling that maybe we, too, got off on the wrong foot. Would it just take a few simple shifts to get back on track with him as well? Well, not back on track, because I don’t think we were ever on it together. Maybe we could find a new mutual path though? Callum certainly seemed to soften towards me earlier after I rescued him from the enthusiastic divorce party. Or was it the other way around? Questions bash into each other like dodgems at the fair and I simply don’t have the headspace to find the answers.
Besides, ninety-nine per cent of my interactions with Callum have been taut with friction. Whereas ninety-nine per cent of my interactions with Hamish (as in that entire hot summer of ours) were dreamy. As we reach altitude, I figure out what that means. I’m happy to write off my last meeting on this plane with Hamish as a blip. We caught each other in different frames of mind, me naturally worried about the whole time-loop fiasco, him concerned about egg sandwiches, and we just didn’t click.
Today couldn’t be more different.
Hamish is leaning towards me, legs crossed in my direction, palms open wide. Everything about his body language screams ‘I’m interested!’.
I mirror him, twisting in my own seat so that we’re almost face to face as I chat away about my job and life in London. He asks thoughtful, attentive questions and with every passing minute I feel our connection rebuild.
‘Looks like they’re bringing food round,’ Hamish points out after an hour or so. ‘Excuse me, I’m just going to the loo.’
The part of my brain that is becoming increasingly unhinged with every trip around this Monday reminds me that now would be the perfect opportunity to pop a Pro Plus into his water bottle. Keep him caffeinated, stop him falling asleep on our love story. Thankfully the still-hinged section of my brain pipes up louder.It’s not necessary!Doesn’t secretly caffeinating a person without their knowledge now feel like a bit of a grey area, morally? I would be horrified if I found out that someone had popped a caffeine tablet into my drink without asking and quite frankly, I don’t want to be that person. Also, I’m pretty sure I don’t need to be that person. Hamish hasn’t yawned once and we’ve built up such a rapport that if he starts to yawn I could just suggest a coffee like a normal person, right?
Look at me! Totally growing!
He sits back down just before our food is delivered.
‘So, I guess Australia stole your heart,’ I say, buttering a mini bread roll. ‘I’m assuming you still live out there,’ I add as an afterthought, in case he thinks I’ve been stalking him.
‘Yes, it did.’ Hamish sighs. ‘I’ve always felt like a bit of a lost soul but Australia feels like home.’
My heart breaks into tiny pieces at this.
‘Why d’you feel like a lost soul?’ I whisper, falling short of squeezing his hand in sympathy.
Hamish shrugs. ‘Maybe not lost but definitely wandering, you know?’
I shake my head. ‘I don’t think so. I’ve always felt like I knew where I was going.’
