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I grab the sofa blanket and pull it over us. It is amazing how one conversation brought my friend back. The screen fills with Tony Soprano in his car and we both start singing the theme tune. I’m going to miss him while I’m gone.
The flight was easy. Harrison and the client sat together while I sat directly behind them, next to a late sales team addition, Piers. He was a little flirty, but funny all the same. He gave me his noise-cancelling headphones before I went to sleep and made sure I had some water waiting when I woke up. He promised to take me out to dinner in a cool place he’d found online in Lusaka before we got the plane back home and made a point of telling me it wasn’t a date, which relaxed me.
The next few days were magical. With the help of our SA compliance team led by Kangwende, we nailed a lot of our outstanding tasks, leaving us time to enjoy the surrounding beauty. Harrison and the client helped vet the experiences and suppliers, and we decided on a dining experience on the beautifully restored Royal Livingstone Express Locomotive, a Zambezi River small boat excursion, helicopter tours of Victoria Falls and some National Wildlife Park tours.
After a wonderful few days by the Falls, we spent the last two in Lusaka, finalising government paperwork. While Zambians are warm and friendly people, I found it difficult dealing with the strict patriarchal society and customs. Often, I had to stand behind and defer to Harrison and Kangwende to get things done, which was hard, especially as I had to reframe our purposes on the go. Harrison had to imply that we were together so that I would not be touched if I didn’t want to be. Those last two days were exhausting, but worth it. We’d done everything that needed to be done, but it had left me so shattered that, when Piers arrived the day before to catch our flight back home from Lusaka, I was too tired to go to dinner.
I spent the entire flight back sleeping, so by the time we landed at Heathrow I was refreshed and looking forward to the weekend. Jasper and I had exchanged a few texts and a couple of calls while I was away; we’d agreed that while we weren’t ready to meet, we could handle chatting. I headed to the airport lounge to have a shower and change my clothes, before realising I didn’t have my house keys with me.
I texted Caleb and he told me to go to Tim’s house, where he was, to get his keys. The first attempt to ring the doorbell was thwarted by two children carrying gifts, followed by a happy-looking mother locking her car and running after them. It seemed one of Tim’s children was having a birthday party. Deciding not to turn up empty-handed, I found and nipped to a small toyshop nearby.
I exhale as I press the bell.
‘Hi.’
A small blonde-haired lady with pink cheeks, curly wild hair and a food-covered apron opens the door. She places the tea towel she is holding over her shoulder. Her face, with its easy smile and kind eyes, is open, friendly and welcoming. This has to be Em.
‘Hello, erm, Caleb said I could swing by?’ It is more a question than a declaration.
‘Caleb told you to swing by?’ There’s a naughty smile playing on her lips.
‘Yes…I’m sorry if I’m intruding. He has my keys and I need to go home…’ I look at my suitcase.
‘Caleb has keys to your house?’
‘Well, our apartment…I moved in some months ago—’
Her eyes light instantly. ‘What am I doing?’ she interrupts. ‘I’m Em. Come in!’
She flings the door open, offers to help with my suitcase, but I hand her the gift instead.
‘I wasn’t sure whose birthday it was.’
‘That’s very thoughtful. It’s huge! Can I get you a drink?’
She leads me past a large living room, where football commentary is blaring loudly. The hallway is long and light-filled, and leads us into a huge kitchen that shares a glass wall with a large, green, lush garden. I see a group of children running around, being chased by a tiny-armed TRex.
‘Louisa, this is…’
‘Ariella.’ I return my attention to the kitchen and offer a smile and a tiny wave.
‘Ariella. She moved in with Calebmonthsago.’
I hear an inflection at the end of her sentence, but dismiss it. She seems really lovely, so I am probably imagining it.
‘Prosecco?’ Em offers.
‘No thank you. I’d be grateful for some water; I’m hoping to make a yoga class later.’ I smile.
‘Where do you go?’
The beautiful Louisa approaches us from the kitchen island, lifting her shiny, deep-chestnut hair over a fur gilet-covered shoulder. I immediately feel self-conscious in Jasper’s oversized, faded blue Oxford shirt, jeans and my trusted but battered Converse.
‘I registered at the small one by Hampstead station?’
‘I know that studio.’ She flashes impossibly white, straight teeth at me. ‘There’s a much better one ten minutes away. It’s a lot less poky.’
‘She likes the one she registered at, Louisa,’ Em reprimands jovially and hands me a glass of water.
