‘Shit.’ I look at my watch. ‘We’ll miss the flight.’
‘You’d better go, hon,’ Janice says. ‘It might be urgent.’
‘It’s probably your bloody mother ringing to tell you to be careful.’ George laughs.
‘More than likely.’ I stick my passport in my bag and flounce off in the direction of the information desk. Trust my mother to almost make me miss the one holiday I’ve had in about fifteen years.
‘Miss Simpson?’
‘Yes?’
‘Telephone call for you.’
It is my sodding mother.
‘Hello?’
‘Miss Simpson?’
‘Yes.’
Shit. How many more times?
‘Check-in here. I have a Mr Freeman at the desk. He says you have his ticket.’
‘Mr…?’
‘Freeman.’
Oh God.
Sam.
He’s here.
He’s coming.
We’re going to have a brilliant time, after all.
But, hang on. Have I got his ticket? Did I bring it with me? Oh soddit, soddit. SOD it.
Wherethefuckisit?
I haven’t got it.
Yes I have. Here it is.
No. That’s a receipt for a black skirt from Oasis. Shit.
Wait a minute. Yes. That’s it.
Yesssssss.
‘It’s here,’ I tell the man on the other end of the phone.
Sam is standing, flushed, gorgeous, by the entrance to departures. His hair is sticking up all over the place and his T-shirt is rucked up around his waist. As I approach I can hear our names being called for our flight.
‘What are you doing here?’ I ask as he comes through the gate and gives me a hug. He’s all hot and sweaty. Lovely.
‘Coming on holiday.’ He grins. ‘What does it look like?’
‘We’ve got two minutes to catch the plane. I thought you weren’t coming.’
‘I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy at work. I got the dates mixed up. I knew I had to be somewhere today but I thought it was the restaurant. And then when I got there and they told me that was a week away, I remembered I was going on holiday.’
‘Nutter.’
‘Nutter yourself, Simpson.’ He grabs my hand and we make a run for it.
As we board, just in time, I suddenly feel ridiculously happy. My best buddy is here. For some insane reason, at this crazy, confused moment in my life, that simple fact means the world to me.
Chapter 21
I settle into my tiny aeroplane seat and tell Sam that now he’s actually remembered to come along on my hen weekend, perhaps he can try not to flirt with any of the air hostesses as they trot past with the trolley.
‘There’ll be hell to pay if one of them gets all worked up and lets the brake off by accident. We don’t want the perfume and fags careening off into the toilets.’
George and David both laugh, but Sam isn’t listening. He’s too busy trying to look out of the window to see if the wings are in the correct position. And he’s turned the colour of guacamole.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘Do you know that planes sometimes come within a hundred yards of each other?’ He looks worried. ‘And the passengers aren’t even told?’
‘Hardly ever.’ I pat his knee, remembering that he’s absolutely terrified of flying. When he goes away on business he has to take tranquillisers. But he’s putting up with it. For me.
Bless.
‘What was that bump?’
‘It’s the wheels coming up, you silly sod.’ I laugh. ‘Are you really that scared?’
‘Yes.’ He gives me a withering look. ‘I won’t even be able to eat my aeroplane food when they bring it.’
‘Oh?’
‘No. But don’t think I’m giving it to you. It can stay in the wrapper.’
Still scared out of his wits, Sam rests his head on my shoulder. I smell his hair and restrain myself from wanting to either lick him or snog the face off him, while the rest of our party take out sweets and magazines and prepare for the four-hour flight.
‘This is going to be terrible,’ Sam groans.
‘Don’t worry. We’ll have fun when we get there.’
‘True.’
‘As long as you don’t spoil it by making us all do loads of sport.’ I kind of like the way his fear is making him nuzzle against me. ‘The only exercise I’m doing this holiday is lifting a pint glass.’
‘Or snogging a Greek waiter.’ Janice looks up from Marie Claire.
‘We’re going to the Canaries,’ George points out.
‘So?’
‘It’s about as Greek as you are, retard,’ he clicks. ‘They speak Spanish.’
‘Whatever.’
I sit back and enjoy the flight, relishing Sam’s nearness. It’s probably just me, but I feel as though there’s a tiny electric current between us, crackling away in the air. He’s so terrified of the plane crashing I take complete advantage, pulling him closer to me and thinking of all the things I’d like to do to him.