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A few more knocks come through my door, a sense of urgency in the way I can hear the fists colliding.
“I’ve got to go, Mum.” I sit up on my bed, swapping the phone from one ear to the other. “I’ll call you when I land, okay?”
“Okay,” she says somberly, a sniffle in her voice. “Have a good flight—I’ll talk to you soon. I love you, Warren.” This time, she really enunciates when she speaks.
I stifle a faint laugh, making my way towards the door. “Iloveyou too.”
I end the call, shoving my phone into my back pocket as I swing open the door, without peering through the peephole, as I’m greeted by the last face I thought I’d see:
Alf.
“Warren…” He’s out of breath as he speaks, clutching onto the doorframe. “I’ve got to talk to you!”
“You alright, Alf?” His flushed face and heaving breaths remind me of the moment he raced over to tell me about Delaney coming to Crawfield.
Now, despite the deja vu, the roles are reversed. I’m racing to her.
“Yeah.” He wipes along his brow. “There were too many people waiting for the lift. I had to take the stairs.”
“I only live on the second floor.”
He shoots me a glare.
One that I reciprocate with a playful smirk, backing away from the door and gesturing for him to come inside. “Why are you here, Alf?” I question, continuing my quest for my passport. “You know I’m leaving today.”
“I know.” He closes the door behind him. “But I had to come and see you first.”
“Miss me already?”
“No, you pompous bastard.” He sinks himself into one of the chairs that lingers in the corner of the room, continuing to catch his breath. “I’m here to tell you some news.”
“Are we really doing this again, Alf?” I shoot him an impatient stare, waiting for him to get to the point.
He straightens his spine before resting his elbows on his knees, perching forward. “The deal just went through,” he reveals. “We have a new owner of Crawfield.”
I swallow deeply. I knew that any day now the team was going up for sale—why do you think I’ve been on the phone with my Mum for hours—desperate to get out of here so quickly?
“I don’t care about that, Alf.” Even I have a hard time accepting my words for truth as I speak. “I have to leave for the airport.” I continue shuffling around the room. “Where is my bloody passport?” I mutter under my breath, lifting up my sheets and tossing them to the side. “We’ll deal with this when I’m back, okay?”
“No,” Alf cuts me off, his voice firm and demanding. “We’re talking about this now, Park!”
I purse my lips, clenching my jaw as I see the urgency in his eyes.
“Sit down,” he tells me. “Now.”
I grumble under my breath before I take a seat across from him, caving as I speak. “Two minutes,” I instruct him firmly. “Not a second longer.”
Alf settles back into the armchair. “It’s gonna take you longer than that to read this.” He pulls a folded piece of paper out of his back pocket, opening it up at a tauntingly slow pace before he gestures it in my direction. “Here you go.”
I make no attempt to reach for it, instead staring down at it in question. “What is this?” I ask, my patience withering.
“Find out for yourself,” he says, pushing it that much closer in my direction. “It’s addressed to you. It just got faxed over from Houston?—”
I snatch the letter from his hand, assessing it with a quick scan of my eyes before the name above the address line forces my breath to hitch in the back of my throat.
I dart my attention forward—Alf’s eyes full of that infuriatingI told you solook. “Still only want two minutes?” he asks.
I narrow in my stare before pulling the letter in closer, eyes fixating back onto that same name, the name I’ll never forget for the rest of my life.
