Page 9 of The Christmas Catch
Ali said nothing as Morgan passed them over.
When their fingers touched, her breath caught.
Twelve-year-old Ali stood on a chair and punched the air. “I’m touching Morgan Scott!” she screamed.
Thirty-five-year-old Ali pursed her lips, ignored the wave of heat that rumbled through her, then carefully and quickly untangled Morgan’s headphones and handed them back.
“Thank you.” Morgan’s gaze flicked up and down.
What did she see? Ali had no idea. She curled her toes in her shoes and prayed she wasn’t the colour purple. Fifty-fifty chance. She was so glad this plane ride was short. She couldn’t be in Morgan’s space too long without saying or doing something really stupid, she was pretty sure.
The tannoy crackled, then a voice filled the plane. The captain.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m afraid I have bad news. The aircraft isn’t fit to fly, and I’d rather know that when we’re on the ground than when we’re in the air, as I’m sure you’d agree. The upshot is, we’re going to have to deplane you, and see what we can sort out in the meantime for getting you to your destination. I know this isn’t the news you wanted, but let’s look on the bright side. At least it’s December 22nd, still three days before the big day, so hopefully that means you can all make it back to where you’re going in time for turkey. Again, huge apologies, but this is out of our control. Please follow the crew instructions on what to do next. Thank you!”
Ali glanced at Morgan again, her forehead furrowed. “Not the best news.”
Morgan sighed, unplugged her headphones and put them back in their plastic pouch. “No, but like the captain says, we have time to get home.”
Ali nodded. “Plenty. How busy can Christmas travel be?”
* * *
They gotoff the plane and rode the bus back to the terminal. Ali texted her family, letting them know what was happening. Then she slotted her phone back into her green duffel coat. Tobias said it made her look like a plant-based Paddington Bear. She had no issue with that. She liked Paddington. She liked marmalade sandwiches, too.
When she glanced out of the window, the snow, which was forecast, was now coming down in full force. Terrific. Would the rest of the flights even get off the ground if it kept up? She didn’t want to think about that.
By the time they hurried through the airport doors for a second time that day, it seemed ten times busier, with flashing screens and harried customers. Beside the door, a bedraggled family of five wore frowns and crowns of fresh snow. Ali turned her head back to the scene outside, to the sudden blizzard that seemed to have come out of nowhere. She had a gnawing feeling this wasn’t going to end well.
She joined the queue for the enquiries desk, but it wasn’t moving. When she craned her neck to check what was happening, a man at the head of the queue gesticulated wildly, and the staff shook their heads slowly. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as the snow swirled against the floor-to-ceiling windows that lead to the airport tarmac. Should she try another route home?
Where was Morgan? Her charm might come in handy right now. However, when Ali stepped out to look to the front of the queue again, it was Morgan who was remonstrating with the staff at the desk. In seconds, she turned around and walked towards Ali, her face thunderous. Maybe blondes didn’t always get their own way. She brushed past, not seeing her at all.
Ali put out a hand to stop her.
Morgan turned and shook her off. When she saw who it was, she blinked.
“Sorry, Ali.” She rearranged her face from irritated to friendly. It almost worked. She sighed. “Getting home today was sort of important. My sister’s pregnant, and due any day. I wanted to have some time with my family before that happened. We were going to make a gingerbread house tonight and decorate it.”
Those were not the words Ali expected to drop from Morgan’s mouth.
“It’s a family tradition, so don’t judge.” Morgan pouted. “I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”
Ali gave her a tiny smile. Morgan Scott wasn’t a superstar, and she wasn’t invincible. She might yet prove to be a normal person like everyone else.
“Your family bake gingerbread houses?” She shouldneveroffer to make her a cake.
Morgan blushed. “They do. We’re good at it, too.” She shrugged. “We like to bake. It makes us happy.”
Okay, she was normalish. “Eatingcake and biscuits make me happy, so we have something in common.” Ali paused. “I take it you didn’t have any luck with the woman at the desk? You should have saved your chocolates for her. Or baked her a cake.”
A glimmer of a smile. “I definitely should have.” She shook her head. “Especially with this blizzard. I asked about luggage, but she said they’re not sure where it is. And now…” She pointed up towards the departures board, which currently was awash with one word: delayed. “If all the flights are delayed or cancelled, who knows when we’ll get our luggage if they have to get the bags offallthe planes. That’s what the woman at the desk just told me, and that’s when I might have lost it a little.” She sighed. “Even communications specialists have off days.” She put her palms together in front of her chest, then brought her eyes level with Ali. “But now I’m back on it. Back to problem-solving and getting people on my side. Onourside.”
“Our side?” There was an ‘our’? Ali wasn’t sure she was ready for that.
“You’re going back to Devon, and so am I. Maybe we should travel together? I have a hatred of Christmas trains after being stuck on broken and overcrowded ones too many times. There are always too many people, too many presents.”
“Hence you were flying.”
