Page 10 of The Cloud Catcher

‘Uh-huh, I could see you doing just that if the need arose,’ Zara said, and she couldn’t help but laugh. ‘But I will do my best to make sure that doesn’t happen, I promise.’ As they made their way down the aisle towards the exit, she couldn’t resist stealing glances at the cockpit door, half hoping it would swing open one last time for another glimpse of Jay looking ever so hot in his uniform. ‘I just hope he doesn’t regret asking me out, once we get to know each other a little more.’

‘Hey, don’t overthink it,’ Suzanne said as they stepped onto the jet bridge, her presence offering a sense of stability. ‘You don’t even know the man yet, so it might be you that doesn’t gel with him. Be sure to remember that, won’t you.’

‘Yes, very true,’ Zara replied softly. ‘I’ll try my best to be easy-come-easy-go with him.’

However, her mind was already racing ahead, envisioning all the possibilities that lay before her. The familiarity she already felt with him was astonishing, not that she was about to admit that to Suzanne. She’d sound bonkers saying such things, she was sure of it. But she simply couldn’t help herself. She longed for a future filled with the irresistible allure of romance, and she was never going to sour on that notion, no matter what.

The crisp Amsterdam air greeted them as they emerged from the airport and Zara pulled her cardigan tighter around herself, relishing its softness against her skin. With each step into this new city her longing for new beginnings grew stronger. As they passed through the gate and into the bustling terminal, she allowed herself to be swept up in the current of her dreams. She wanted big love, great love, and she wouldn’t settle for anything less, no matter how long it took her to find it.

Was Jay Maverick the one?

It looked like she would find out soon enough.

The luggage carousel hummed its rhythmic serenade to weary travellers. Zara stood beside it, her gaze tracing the endless loop of bags and suitcases, watching with a mix of exhaustion and wonder as each piece embarked on its brief journey before being plucked back into reality by expectant hands. Her own bag — a now slightly worn suitcase with fraying edges and stickers from various destinations — appeared like an old friend, its journeys mirroring her own since becoming an international air hostess.

‘Ah, there’s mine.’ Suzanne’s voice was tinged with eagerness as she took a step towards her luggage, cutting through Zara’s reverie. ‘You right to grab yours?’

Zara nodded, heaving the suitcase off the carousel with a practised ease. ‘Yeah, got it, thanks,’ she said, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her chest. ‘Come on, Suz, let’s get out of here.’

After a short train ride into town, the wheels of her suitcase clicked against the tiles as they made their way towards the exit of the station, the sound a steady beat that matched the pulsing of her heart. The sliding doors parted before them, instantly revealing a colourful picture of Amsterdam — the ballet of bicycles weaving through traffic, the whisper of trees lining cobblestone streets, the foreign tongues conversing, and the distant melody of life beyond the confines of schedules. All of it was an irresistible invitation to explore this new part of the world.

‘Here’s to new beginnings.’ Suzanne linked arms with Zara as they joined the taxi line.

‘New beginnings,’ Zara echoed, her gaze lifting to the vast expanse where clouds roamed free.

‘Can you believe it?’ Suzanne continued, her words bubbling over as they waited. ‘You’re finally in Amsterdam!’

‘I know, I’ve always wanted to explore the canals, the art, and oh my gosh, the food!’ Zara grinned as her best friend’s enthusiasm washed over her.

Yet beneath her excitement for the city lay another layer of anticipation, an undercurrent of emotion tied to the pilot whose charming smile had captivated her in Amalfi and left an indelible mark on her heart.

‘Let’s drop our stuff off and hit the town,’ Suzanne proposed with a flourish. ‘I’m dying for some authentic stroopwafel.’

‘Oh, yes please,’ Zara replied, though her thoughts drifted to the possibility of spending time with Jay later that evening. ‘I’ve heard they’re super sweet, but divine.’

They settled into the back seat of a cab, the cityscape flitting by as if painted by an Impressionist, the strokes of colour and movement blurring into a picturesque montage. Zara watched the dance of reflections in the canal waters with her mind a canvas upon which dreams, and reality, mingled in delicate brushwork. The charming architecture and vibrant culture captivated her, but what kept her spellbound was the sense of proximity to something, or someone, that had the power to redefine the contours of her heart’s map.

Please, God, the angels and the universe, let him be my person.

The cab pulled up in front of their hotel, and they stepped out and into a bustling street, filled with cafés spilling onto sidewalks and pushbikes coming from every direction. Given it was early afternoon, and the middle of spring in Europe, the air was cool and inviting, hinting at secrets that only dusk could tell. Zara’s curls caught the sunlight as she tilted her head, imagining the hours she’d spend exploring this magical place before retiring to bed. Stepping through the front door of the hotel, she felt a breathless shimmer of evanescence pass over her, one that spoke of the potential for memories that would linger long after the stars had faded to dawn, leaving her with unforgettable recollections of this enchanting city, and the man she’d hopefully wander it with.