Page 13 of The Christmas Catch
When Morgan drew up beside her, Ali gave her a grin. “Just the woman. You need to fill in your email address. The whole luggage system has buggered up, and nobody is picking up the bags at the moment because of the snow. They’re promising we can get our luggage eventually, but they can’t say when. It could be today, but then again…”
“Holy shit.”
“Holy shit is exactly what I said,” Ali replied. “We’re filling in these forms, and they’ll text to let us know when the bags are ready. They might even fly them to Exeter so we can pick them up from there. I ticked that option.”
At least they wouldn’t have to come back to Glasgow for them. “Makes sense,” Morgan replied.
“Now we just have to work out how to get there.” As she spoke, Ali peered over Morgan’s shoulder at Imogen.
Morgan straightened up. She needed to explain Mrs Claus to Ali. They were yet to be introduced.
“I might have come up with a plan for that.” Morgan stepped back. “Ali, meet Imogen, aka Mrs Claus. Her girlfriend unceremoniously dumped her today, but Imogen’s going to drive to Manchester to get her back in the manner of every rom-com movie you’ve ever seen, and we’re going to hitch a ride that far with her. It’s going to be an epic road trip and I’ve promised her we’ll work out a solid plan of action to fix her love life in the car.”
Ali’s features didn’t flicker.
“I’ve told her we’re both seasoned lesbians, so we have ample experience.”
Now Ali’s eyebrow crept up her face. “Are you calling me a slut?”
Morgan’s eyes widened. “No! I’m just saying, we have years on Imogen. Weknowwomen. We can be wise owls to her fledgling chicklet.”
Ali didn’t look convinced, but she shook Imogen’s hand anyway. When she did, the tiny bells strapped around Imogen’s wrist tingled. Other passengers glanced their way.
“Good to meet you, Imogen.”
Ali thrust the pen and form into Morgan’s hand. “Fill this in, and we can get going.”
Fifteen minutes later, they climbed into Imogen’s white Range Rover. If Morgan could have chosen a car to battle the current conditions, it would have been this one. She just wasn’t sure what a university student was doing driving one. Range Rovers were normally the province of yummy mummies or posh boys, not spurned fancy-dress lovers.
“Great car for the snow.” Morgan clicked her seat belt into place.
In the rear-view mirror, she watched Ali do the same. Now she reminded her of a famous footballer who played in the Women’s Super League. Same stylish hair, same cool brown eyes. Did she have the same muscular calves under her trousers, too? Morgan cleared her throat. Those thoughts weren’t helpful in getting them back home. They definitely wouldn’t be helpful if Morgan ran into Nicole, either.
However, Ali wasn’t an annoying 12-year-old anymore, was she? She’d even proved a useful teammate by sorting out the luggage. Morgan gave her corporate clients this sort of dilemma all the time to foster team-building. Now here she was, taking part in a real-life example, with Mrs Claus in the driving seat. Nobody would ever believe this story if she made it up.
“It’s my dad’s car.” Imogen took off her red-and-white felt hat, hit the indicator, then the horn.
Morgan jumped.
“Sorry, it’s pretty new, and this is the first time I’ve driven it. I only got put on the insurance at the weekend. My dad took some persuading. I borrowed it this morning when I needed to get to the airport. He’s going to kill me going all the way to Manchester in it.” Imogen located the windscreen wipers and set them going to clear the snow.
Oh fuck. Was this the car they were going to die in? Morgan had always had a slight fear of flying, but never of car journeys. Maybe that was about to change.
“You okay if I put the heat on?” If they were going to die, at least they could do it comfortably.
“Of course,” Imogen replied.
Morgan turned the heat to full and cupped her hands around the air vent as if it were a fire.
Then Imogen reversed out of the space, narrowly missing an elderly woman pushing a trolley of suitcases taller than her. Imogen swerved at the final second, then let out a hiccup, followed by a giggle.
“Oops! My dad always tells me to watch out for people. But they’re smaller than cars, aren’t they? Trickier to see.”
Morgan swallowed down her heartbeat and closed her eyes.
It was all going to be okay.
Probably.
