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During my drive to the airport, I’d somehow managed to convince myself that Finn was going to be there, waiting hopefully for me to show up. But now, in a voice that sounded uncomfortably like Hannah’s, the alternative was presented to me like a dish I really ought to consider sampling. What if Finnwasthere, right now, eyes on the airport doors, desperately hoping Iwouldn’tturn up?
I stepped further into the concourse, my gaze travelling a full 360 degrees, looking for a man who stood a little taller than most in a crowd, with red glints in his dark hair. I couldn’t see him. Undeterred, I crossed to join a mass of travellers beneath an overhead arrivals and departures board. I studied it for a minute, my stomach performing a pancake flip when it finally displayed the flight Finn and I were booked on.
The check-in desks were already busy, and I wheeled my overnight bag – the only luggage I’d brought with me – to join the queue that chicaned back and forth between the bollards. I shuffled with my fellow ticket holders towards the bank of counters. As I got closer, I studied the four airport check-in officers on duty. I really hoped I’d get the woman at the end, because she looked around my age and was very smiley and friendly with the customers she dealt with. The two in the middle looked okay, although their sober expressions might mean they’d be less sympathetic to my situation. The person I didn’t want was the irritated-looking man working at the far counter; the one with the perma-scowl on his face.
I got Mr Perma-Scowl.
‘Passport,’ he said, holding out his hand without lifting his eyes to make contact with mine.
I fastened my grip on the burgundy-coloured passport that I’d taken from my bag only because everyone else appeared to be holding theirs.
My hesitation clearly added to the woes of his day. ‘Passport,’ he repeated, hitting every consonant of the word as though I might not speak English.
‘Hi,’ I said, giving him what Finn had once called ‘the very best smile in the entire world’. It must have been a subjective observation, for I could instantly tell it was going to get me nowhere with this man.
‘I’m booked on flight QA32 to Sydney.’
‘I’m going to need your passport, madam.’
‘Ah. The thing is, I don’t know if I want to go or not.’
His eyes flickered behind his glasses, and I could practically read his thoughts.Out of all the counters you could have ended up at, it had to be mine.
At least I had his full attention now. I continued in a rush. ‘I need to find out if another passenger has checked in already for this flight.’
‘Are they on your booking?’
I shook my head regretfully. ‘No.’
He shook his own, mirroring me. ‘Then I’m afraid I can’t divulge information about other passengers. It would be a contravention of airport security.’
Would it?I wondered, or was that just an easy way to make me go away, something I sensed couldn’t happen a moment too soon for this man.
‘Look, can I be perfectly honest with you? The passenger I’m looking for is my fiancé. Well, he should actually have been my husband by now, but…’ The man’s eyes were starting to search beyond me, probably seeking some airport official to frogmarch me away from his counter. ‘Finn Douglas,’ I said with urgency in my voice. ‘I just need to speak to him for a few minutes. Isn’t there anything you can do to help me?’
Perhaps therewasa heart there, beating deep beneath his airport uniform, but I wasn’t reaching it. If there was any sympathy at all in his expression, I had a feeling it was directed more towards Finn than me.
‘Madam, my only job is to check in passengers for the flight to Sydney. If you have a valid ticket and a passport, then I can do that for you, otherwise I’m going to have to ask you to step aside so I can deal with all the people whodowant to get on the flight today.’
Unable to believe I was actually doing it, I surrendered my passport and watched as the man rattled my details into his computer. That the information I wanted about Finn was probably right there on the screen in front of him was beyond frustrating.
He slid my boarding pass and passport back towards me and then finally, as I was about to walk away, he turned into a human being. ‘Everyone on that flight will ultimately end up at the same place. If you’re looking for your fiancé, I suggest you go straight to the departure gate.’
*
It was the first time I’d ever been at an airport and not felt the lure of the designer shops or the duty-free emporium. I strode straight past them all, as well as the collection of eateries. The gate was now listed as ‘Open’ on the information boards, and with my heart thumping uncomfortably in my chest, I began the long walk towards it.
The idea that I might be the first person waiting for the flight quickly proved ridiculous. Even with almost an hour to go until boarding, there were hardly any vacant seats at Gate 47. The passengers were an eclectic mix: older couples poring over travel documents, and younger ones hefting backpacks so large, they’d never fit in the overhead bins. There were more families than I’d expected too.
There was a buzz of excitement from the holidaymakers and travellers, who were either venturing somewhere new or going back home. I fell into neither category, and I felt lost as I stood on the edge of the crowd, scanning every face for the one I hoped to see.
It took less than a minute to find him. It was the red glints in his dark hair that tugged my gaze back after it initially travelled past him. He was sitting on the furthest row of chairs, facing away from me, with his head bowed as though looking at something on his lap. It was probably his phone.
I’d spent two days waiting for this moment, wondering how I’d react and what I’d say, and now that it was finally here, the urge to turn and flee surprised me. My feet felt leaden, as though they were encased in heavy walking boots rather than the summer sandals I’d slipped on.
The question ‘Why?’, which had haunted my every waking moment since Saturday, was about to be asked. But I’d never imagined I’d be doing it here. No one in their right mind would choose to have such a private conversation in such a public place.
My breathing was fast, each exhalation a shaky gasp as I closed the distance between us. The sound of the crowd faded and then disappeared beneath the throbbing beat of my pulse.
