Page 12 of The Layover
‘What about … well, I don’t know, a bus, or something? There’s always a bus when the train is cancelled,’ Francesca says, and wealllook at her so unimpressed that she flushes beetroot.
‘As if rail replacement buses areevera good option,’ Leon mutters.
‘Would youlikeus to put you on a bus to Spain?’ the desk attendant asks, and I don’t blame him for the thick sarcasm. Francesca looks like she wants the ground to swallow her up whole. ‘I didn’t think so. Your options are: we can find you tickets on the next available flight, whichwouldhave been scheduled to leave tonight, but we can’t guarantee how long that delay will be while this weather continues—’
‘You havegotto be kidding me,’ I say. ‘We aren’t waiting around all night tomaybeget on a flight!’
‘Or, if you prefer, we can put you up in a hotel overnight. I should be able to seat you on the ten a.m. flight—’
‘No!’ all three of us cry out, and all three of us lurch towards the counter, making the guy reel back in alarm. He almost falls over, and I’d laugh if the situation wasn’t so absolutely bloody dire.
‘That’s no good,’ Leon says, fighting to keep his composure. ‘The ceremony is at ten thirty.’
‘Then I suggest you wait here for the next available flight.’
Leon huffs and steps back, and work wife Francesca is dithering, fidgeting, which is all super unhelpful. I brace both hands on the counter, and try not to give our new Brummie pal a death-stare when I smile at him.
‘I don’t think you’re understanding our predicament here. We havea wedding. My best friend is getting married, and I need to be there.Heneeds to be there.She’ – I jab a finger at Francesca – ‘needs to be there. What do we need to do to make that happen?’
‘Take it up with Zeus,’ he deadpans.
Leon snorts, so I look at him. ‘Is that the manager?’
‘It’s the Greek god of thunder. You know. Like inHercules? King of the gods? You and Kayleigh are as bad as each other, I swear.’
Right, well,thank youfor that assessment, dickwad.
The man at the desk prints us each a boarding pass. He hands them over, and I take all three.
‘Please proceed through security to the terminal and monitor the board for more information. Your flight details are on the boarding passes, and there are some food vouchers for use within the airport by way of apology from the airline for the inconvenience.’
‘But—’ I protest.
‘Wait a minute,’ Leon says.
Francesca cries out, ‘Hang on, we haven’t—’
And the man bellows, ‘NEXT!’ and I guess … we’re done.
I debate planting my feet and telling him absolutely categoricallyno, we are not done here, but I … kind of don’t think it’s worth it. Is it theworstthing in the world if I miss the drinks tonight? I’ll have already missed dinner, even if I got on a flight leaving right now. And so what if I don’t have to put up with Kayleigh’s self-satisfied smile and perfect, perfect life for a couple more hours? Besides, I’ve got Leon to vouch for me.
And frankly, I need to reserve my energy for getting through tomorrow, not haranguing this man into bumping someone else off an earlier flight for us. Because it’s anus, now, we’re ateam, all three of us doing our damnedest to get there to celebrate Kayleigh and Marcus.
If we’re stuck together, somehow, that will soften the blow … won’t it?
Hell, knowing Kayleigh,nothingcan make this better. It’s an unmitigated disaster. I can’t wait to not live it down for the rest of my life.
But I put on a brave face, another winning smile, and turn to Leon and Francesca. ‘Come on then, you two. To security we go.Tout suite!’
Chapter Eight
Leon
Flight AFR13 Orly to Barcelona
DELAYED – Expected 02.35
‘You have got to be kidding me,’ I mutter, more to myself than to either of the girls. They flank me – Gemma with her arms crossed and hip cocked out to the side like she can glare the flight information board into submission, Francesca nervously dithering with her bags and phone, biting her lip. I knead a knuckle to my forehead, closing my eyes and shifting away from the glare of the board, and the flight that’s now nine hours away.
