Page 5 of The Christmas Catch
It didn’t matter.
Guilt still nibbled every inch of her.
“Stuart will pick you up from the airport.”
Ali gulped. That was different. But this year was different, wasn’t it? She’d stayed away for too long, she knew that. But it was Christmas. All the more reason to get back. “That’s great. Listen, I better dash. Tobias is turning up any minute, and I’ve gotta get Snowy out of my case.”
“Okay. See you soon. Can’t wait!”
Ali smiled as she hung up. She wasn’t sure how she’d cope back home, but she was going.
It was long overdue.
CHAPTER3
Morgan could hardly believe it. She’d asked the cab driver to drop her at a phone shop near the airport. He’d done just that, and she’d handed in her phone, pleading with the staff for a quick turnaround. Now, a woman with a sharp buzz cut and a smile the width of the Clyde walked towards her. She presented Morgan with her phone. Maybe the seasondidcontain magic.
“You’re in luck. Our repair guy was able to resurrect your screen. It’s as good as new.”
Morgan plucked the phone from the woman’s hands and held it at arm’s length, with a reverence usually reserved for a newborn. Which it sorta was. If it wasn’t frowned upon, she’d have leapt across the counter and placed a kiss on the woman’s lips. Thirty-five minutes ago, she’d arrived flustered and desperate. Now, with her link to the rest of the world back in her hands, she was leaving as a woman restored.
“Thank you. You don’t know what this means.” Morgan glanced at her watch. She really had to go. She had a plane to catch, family to hug. She paid her Christmas miracle worker, gave her an extra tenner along with a “Merry Christmas!”, then ran out of the store, the wheels of her sleek suitcase rumbling on the cracked pavement beneath her. She hailed another passing black cab, and heaved her suitcase into the back, breathing a sigh of relief as the driver sped off.
Ten minutes later, they skidded to a halt outside Departures at Glasgow Airport, the driver braking suddenly to avoid an incoming cab ploughing straight into them.
Morgan threw out her arm to stop herself from crashing to the floor. She succeeded, but also cracked her elbow on the side of the cab. She slammed back into her seat as silent swear words formed in cartoon bubbles above her head. She sucked in a long breath and held her elbow, waiting for the searing pain to stop.
Up front, her driver yanked open his door and strode towards the other cab, shouting something in Glaswegian that Morgan couldn’t quite make out. From his frantic gestures, she guessed he wasn’t wishing the other driver season’s greetings.
Once she could move her elbow without wincing, Morgan opened the door and got out of the cab, grateful to be alive. Her solid black Samsonite case landed on the pavement with a thump. She pushed it closer to the main building, but then realised she still needed to pay.
A woman got out of the cab that had caused all the trouble in the first place, her feet encased in black boots that weren’t tied all the way up. She wore a green duffel coat and a mustard scarf, and her hair—undercut, longer on top, perfectly styled—held huge queer energy. Morgan studied her for a hot moment, then raised an eyebrow as the woman hauled the same black Samsonite suitcase out of her cab and placed it beside Morgan’s.
They stared at each other for a few seconds.
“Black Friday sale?”
Morgan scrunched her face.
The woman pointed at her case. “The Samsonite. I got mine on Amazon in the Black Friday sale.”
Morgan laughed. “Snap.” There was something about this woman that looked familiar. She was sure she hadn’t slept with her—there hadn’t been enough for Morgan to forget one—but perhaps one of her friends had? But that wasn’t about to be her opening gambit. Did Morgan detect a slight accent? Her mind hummed trying to work it out.
“See you for drinks on Friday then,” Morgan’s cab driver shouted, then walked back to his open door.
Morgan blinked. That wasn’t how she expected the altercation between the two drivers to end. “You want to pay by card?” he asked her, before he slid back into his seat and shut the door.
Morgan nodded, then got out her Mastercard.
The other passenger (who Morgan still couldn’t place) held up her card, then walked over to her taxi, leaning in the window to pay.
Morgan’s cab had a fixed pay station, which was in the back. She went to hop in, but unfortunately tripped on the step up and fell straight onto her elbow.
Pain shot up her arm as if something had just sliced through her. She rolled onto her side and clutched her elbow again. Goddammit, why was she such a walking disaster these past 24 hours? At least it wasn’t snowing. She had to look on the bright side. In a few hours, she’d be home, eating one of her mum’s delicious mince pies. All she had to do was get up and get on the plane.
The cabby turned his face near to the Perspex screen. “You picking a fight with yourself there, missy?”
Morgan chuckled. It looked very much like she was. She struggled to her feet, paid the man, then jumped out, slamming the cab door.
