Page 3 of The Suitcase Swap

Not that he’d say a single one of these things to his children, even if they were grown up. It was none of their business.I would also like to ban the use of the word ‘nubile’ from our chats.

Amaya sent a laughing emoji, followed by,We just want to see you happy, Dad. If you were genuinely content on your own, we wouldn’t push.

I would push, Rahul texted. He sent a picture of a squalling infant, face red, mouth open in a howl, nestled into the crook of his arm.Archie needs another grandparent to spoil him rotten.

Mike smiled automatically at his grandson’s angry face. It still stopped him short, sometimes, that he was a grandparent. Inside he felt like he was still the same awkward young man, working up the nerve to buy his first pint. Not a man offifty-three. He wouldn’t give up Archie for anything, or his older sister Stella. Reminders of age aside, they helped fill the empty spaces in his heart.

The flight attendant made an announcement telling everyone to buckle their seatbelts. Mike quickly typed out a message while he could.And where’s my Stella?

Noah took her to the Natural History Museum. She wanted to, and I quote, ‘go and see the dead things.’

That’s my girl, Amaya wrote.

Takes after her barmy aunt.Rahul added a laughing emoji to that.

You love me! Admit it!

I do, Rahul responded,but then I’m barmy, too. I’ll have Noah send you both pics.

The overhead announcement told them all to put their phones on airplane mode. Mike typed quickly,It runs in the family. Tell Noah thank you. Got to dash.

Amaya sent a heart.Tell us when you land!

Will do.He turned off his phone, tucking it into the pouch on the back of the seat in front of him. He might not feel useful, but he did feel loved, which was a wonderful thing, and something he didn’t take for granted. He got out his tablet, hoping to get a little work done during the flight. When he was finished with that, he would read for a while. If there was one thing Michael was good at, it was filling his time.

Chapter Two

Sophie wasn’t sure she’d seen anything grander, anything more wonderful than JFK Airport. She would doubtless feel very differently if she had been there to getona plane. Since the airport was the first available piece of terra firma after disembarking, it had taken on elements of holy ground. For a split second she considered actually kissing the carpet.

That was the exact moment she realized she’d made a tactical error. Drinking on the plane had helped take the edge off her anxiety. But the thing was, beyond the odd glass of wine, she rarely drank these days. She’d also been concerned she would be sick again, so she hadn’t eaten. Those factors, plus the fact that she hadn’t been prepared for drinking at altitude meant she had somehow managed to step into JFK Airport both still slightly drunk and partially hungover at the same time.

She feltwretched.Her stomach rolled, her head was absolutely splitting and the relentless noise wasn’t helping, either. The lights were too bright. It was all basically too much – including the taste in her mouth, which was horrid.

People flowed around her in a constant torrent as they hustled to get to their luggage and head to customs. She was repeatedly jostled, the smell of various perfumes, colognes and body odour hitting her in waves. She did not want to be sick in two different airports within the same twenty-four hours. All she had to do was make it through customs. Tom was meeting her on the other side and escorting her back to the flat. She could endure until then.

Sophie lurched through the crowd, finding an out-of-the-way spot by the bins to catch her breath. Which was good because that was when her legs decided they’d had quite enough, thank you, and gave up. She didn’t faint so much aswilt. Sophie sat down hard, leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes. Breathe. She just needed to breathe. In a few moments, she’d get up, head through customs and carry on, but right now she would take a tiny sliver of the day to get her bearings.

‘Pardon me, but are you all right?’ The unwelcome voice was deep and pleasant and any other time Sophie would have enjoyed it. Right now, she wanted it to go away, which she knew was unfair of her. He was just being kind. ‘Only, you look a bit peaky.’

‘Flying,’ she said without opening her eyes, ‘is unnatural.’

Whatever the voice had been expecting, it apparently wasn’t that, because it was silent for a few seconds.

‘Perhaps for humans,’ the voice admitted. ‘The act itself isn’t unnatural. Birds do it. Bees do it.’

‘Even monkeys in the trees do it?’ She couldn’t help but finish the line, smiling a little despite her current state. Her mother had loved that song. Judging by the ensuing silence, the voice hadn’t caught the reference and was now considering whether or not she needed medical attention. ‘I’m fine. Just a bit unwell. I tried to steady my nerves by drinking on the plane, and it either worked too well or not at all. Jury’s still out.’

‘I see.’

The way he said it, she was pretty sure hedidsee, but was also faintly amused. Not in a mean way. Andrew had often got a bit nasty when he felt she was being silly like this, but whoever the voice was, he was amused with her rather than against her.

She found herself apologizing anyway. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I take it that you’re a bit anxious about flying?’

‘Yes,’ she said, breathing in deeply. ‘Just a bit.’ The voice had nice cologne. Subtle and spicy. She laughed a little. ‘In fact, I’m fairly certain that I’ve cornered that particular market.’

He hummed thoughtfully at her. ‘Hold on a moment.’

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