Of course, she wasn’t helping his cause when she turned her head and rested it on his shoulder, and as if that weren’t bad enough, she snuggled, yes, snuggled into him, her hand around his arm like it was hers for the taking.
“Pardon me, young miss,” he hissed loud enough to rouse her awake. When she blinked her sleepy blue-grey eyes open in a moment of bewilderment, he almost lost his resolve, but then steeled himself. “What have I said about clinging to me?”
Chapter 8
“Sorry.” Gwen sat up straight and averted her eyes, embarrassed. But what could she say, really? Was it her fault that the man radiated magnetic warmth? Moments later, she felt herself fade off once again. If she could manage it, she would curl herself into a ball and sleep for hours.
“Best you wake up for lunch is being served.” Crispin brushed himself off, stowed away his songbook and lowered his pull-out table. As if on auto-pilot, he reached out and did the same for her.
“Mmm hmm…” she murmured in response to his arm brushing across her lap. She then turned her head away from him, content and oblivious to the flurry of activity beyond Crispin’s steely presence beside her. Let him look after it all, she thought dreamily to herself. She’d been so tense earlier and now she was exhausted. His wanting the aisle seat was the best thing he could have done. In forcing her to take the window seat, he’d created a cozy alcove of security for her and she was quite enjoying it. The only thing she might require to make this an even more pleasant experience might be a blanket or perhaps even her coat. The temperature had dropped the last little while and she was feeling a slight chill. It was no wonder she’d snuggled into Crispin. That’s what she told herself, anyway.
“Coffee or tea?” asked Anne after having placed the food tray on the tables in front of them.
“Coffee for me,” Crispin said, quirking an eyebrow at Gwen still off in la-la land. For some reason, he recalled her drinking tea at the café and figured she’d prefer it. “She’ll have tea.”
“Aw… it’s nice to see her so relaxed,” said Anne before making her way to the next aisle.
Yes, and why exactly was she suddenly so at ease? Crispin couldn’t help but wonder. Had he been played? Had she simply acted like the damsel in distress to gain his sympathy, or was he right in his suspicions? First things first, though, he was hungry and surely so was she.
“Come on, waky-waky.” He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. Finally, she stirred and greeted him with a smile as bright as the sunshine peeking in through the slit in the window. She then noticed the food tray and tea. “Is that all right? You were out cold and I had to make the call between coffee or tea.”
“It’s perfect, thanks,” she said, quite pleased, taking a soothing sip of tea. And so are you, she thought with a covert smile.
***
Following lunch, Crispin continued to write while Gwen slept away the majority of the flight. They’d been given blankets and she was presently quite happily burrowed underneath both hers and his since he hadn’t needed it. After a few failed attempts at keeping her off him, Crispin gave up and figured he’d make the most of the remaining time on the plane to rest his eyes. He had just readjusted her head onto his shoulder in a mutually beneficial position so he could use hers as a pillow when she stirred awake and blinked up at him, a worried look in her eyes.
“Yes?” He couldn’t help but smile, amused at the expression on her face.
“Washroom,” she whispered.
“Ah, yes, of course.” He quickly stood up to allow her to pass. That’s when he noticed the fear coming over her once again. Every move she made was with great trepidation. No way was she faking this. This fear of flying was quite something to be sure. Unable to stand by, he once again, accompanied her. This time, he took hold of her hand and led the way. After all, it had been a few hours and he too needed to go.
Gwen smiled and followed his lead. It was exactly this type of gesture that filled her heart with hope that in his company, she could face anything. What she didn’t realize was that she was about to put that theory to the test in more ways than one.
***
Before long, the plane started its descent into Heathrow airport. With a worried intake of breath, Gwen white-knuckle grasped her armrests and sat back in her chair.
“Fuck…” Crispin grimaced at the pain from the pressure in his ears. Looking around at the other passengers, he noticed a few were experiencing the same discomfort. He’d never flown before but he had heard about this and although he wasn’t surprised, he hadn’t anticipated the extent of the discomfort.
It was a slow descent due to all the planes circling awaiting their turn. Leaning across Gwen who was too preoccupied to notice him, he poked his head out to see a distant parade of flashing lights. It amazed him to count so many jets in such close proximity and it gave him a whole new respect for air traffic controllers.
“Are we ever going to land?” Gwen’s shaky voice stirred him from his observations. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
“I’m sure it won’t be long,” he said, sitting back in his seat and taking a deep breath. Again, he placed his hand over hers and squeezed. Then to distract her, he offered her something else to think about. “We’ll get there soon enough, and then you’re on, baby.”
***
The plane eventually landed safely and taxied into place. The moment the seatbelts lights were off, everyone, Crispin included, scrambled to gather their belongings and exit the aircraft. It hadn’t been a bad experience, flying, but it was quite a long flight and after that last painful bit, everybody was keen to get off. Gwen could tell that Crispin had a headache or something from the way he kept rubbing at the area around his ears.
Gwen didn’t even have time to pat herself on the back for surviving the ordeal before switching into action mode. She realized very quickly that Crispin wasn’t the most patient person in the world. She would have liked to have taken her time to re-check her purse and carryon for all her possessions but he’d given her that look that told her she’d best keep up or get left behind. Right away, that wasn’t a very good start.
On their way off the plane, they said goodbye to Anne, the flight attendant. Crispin had long ago abandoned his need to charm her and simply brushed past her with a briskest of nods. Directly behind him, Gwen gave her a trepidatious smile full of gratitude for her earlier intervention.
Now there were the crowds to contend with. Gwen stuck as close to Crispin as possible, even if it meant tripping over his feet a couple of times. He’d scowled at her but hadn’t said anything. He just kept looking around, reading the signs that pointed them in the right direction. Gwen was ever so grateful for his diligence, because, at this point, all she could do was follow him alongside the herd of travellers all headed toward customs and baggage claim.
She couldn’t quite believe it but she had survived going through customs. The huge lines actually helped because they gave her time to ready her documents. And she was relieved when they were able to approach the customs officers together since the idea of going it alone at anything that required any form of prolonged concentration was absolutely unbearable.
She was trying so very hard to contain her building anxiety at each stage of the process and her shoulder muscles felt as though they might snap from so much clenching. Yet so far, she was quite impressed with herself for not losing it. She knew Crispin’s presence was the reason she was able to get through this. As ill-mannered and irritable as he was getting, grumbling and muttering under his breath, he dealt with it all quite well.
Without experiencing it for herself, she couldn’t have imagined how huge Heathrow airport was. Having to walk its entirety, out of breath and on shaky legs, was no small feat. It wasn’t until they were standing at baggage claim waiting for their luggage to appear when she was able to breathe properly. Even then, it wasn’t long before the next wave of anxiety hit her. She had been ordered by Crispin to stand back with their carryon bags wh
ile he claimed their suitcases. But as he started to walk away she felt herself panic at the irrational thought of him leaving her there. But then, he turned back and asked her a question. A question she wasn’t quite ready to answer since her ears hadn’t opened up properly. It wasn’t until he grasped her tightly by the shoulders and gave her a slight shake that she finally heard him.
“Gwen? Come on, snap out of it. You’re safely on the ground.” He frowned, gazing at her with concern and frustration. “Tell me what your suitcase looks like so we can get out of here.”
“Bright pink and yellow tartan, hard shell,” she finally said, watching him scowl in distaste. For a second, she laughed and her tension was gone once again. She then realized how ridiculous her daydreams of doing this on her own had been. Surely, she would never have made it this far by herself.
Of course, it would have to be pink, Crispin thought with a frown. “Fine, stay put and I’ll be right back.” While he waited by the luggage carousel, he thought to check the time. It was now nearly 10 PM in London. He adjusted his watch five hours ahead to match the local time zone. Technically, it should only feel like 5 PM but he had to admit he was exhausted. Travelling really did take it out of you. Obviously, Gwen was feeling it too. At least, he hoped that’s what it was. She’d been quite out of it since they had landed. He would have expected her to be excited and full of energy since she’d slept through most of the flight, but so far, if anything, she seemed overwhelmed.
While she stood waiting, she took the opportunity to consult her notes. The next step of the journey would involve finding the London Underground Station attached to the airport. According to the instructions, it should take an hour to reach Victoria Station on the Piccadilly Line. That didn’t sound too bad to her. The part that had her a little concerned was having to change trains at Hammersmith or South Kensington to then get on the Circle & District Line until reaching Victoria Station. From there it was an approximate 200-metre walk to the Lemon Tree Inn.
Even though it seemed simple enough, she was glad she had scribbled this part onto a smaller piece of paper in case she needed to consult it while on the train without having to fumble through her folder. Good thing too, since Crispin, in an impatient huff, had forcibly taken it from her and tucked it into his carryon at the last minute before leaving the plane. In her pocket, she also had a handy print of The Tube map, again, just in case she needed to check it. Hopefully, though, she wouldn’t need to worry and they’d get to the Lemon Tree Inn soon. She could tell Crispin was tired. He hadn’t really slept on the plane and the journey had been a long one.
Minutes later, Crispin stepped up to her with both their suitcases in tow. For a moment, she forgot all her concerns at the sight of her handsome if not reluctant travel companion.
“Right then, shall we?”
“Yes, thanks.” Gwen happily took her suitcase and passed him his carryon.
“Where to now, young miss? Lead the way.”
“To the Lemon Tree Inn!” she declared, suddenly filled with excitement. She’d done it. No matter what, or how, she had arrived in one piece and for a small moment, Gwen allowed herself to bask in the glory of her achievement.
Chapter 9
“What a nightmare...” Gwen gasped as she stared blankly at the little tube map in her hands. She wished she could tell Crispin something helpful, but as it was, the tiny multi-coloured lines signifying the many different underground train lines and connections were now in her eyes an indistinguishable blur. His huffing and puffing only made things worse. His escalating frustration was not helping her quickly unravelling concentration either. It wasn’t his fault, really. After all, the guy had just hauled both their suitcases up and down numerous flights of stairs. It wasn’t her fault either, but it suddenly felt like it was. She’d messed up the last few stops, sending them on what felt like a wild goose chase in search of the correct trains. They had gotten on and off more trains than she could have imagined possible yet it didn’t feel like they were getting any closer to Victoria Station.
Yes, she should have prepared for something like this, she realized. But who could have foreseen such an unfortunate turn of events? What should have been a simple one connection commute had turned into a logistical nightmare.
“Just fucking tell me where we’re going next,” Crispin demanded, out of breath.
“I... I’m sorry, Crispin. I’m trying to find another way. But it’s all so...”
Initially, they had found the tube station easily enough, having followed the herd of similarly minded travellers. But three stops into their train ride, an announcement had come on to inform passengers of a problem. Both the Circle and District Lines were shut down for maintenance and would be out of commission for the entire weekend. That meant they and a great majority of commuters would have to get off at a different stop in order to take another train to reach Victoria Station, their final destination.
The damp earthy stench of the underground, which at first Gwen had found charming, was now starting to suffocate her. It felt like they’d been down there for hours, hopping on and off trains, changing platforms, all the while, lugging their suitcases up and down staircases, many of which did not have escalators. After the second set of stairs that felt like a slow climb to nowhere, Crispin couldn’t stand the sight of Gwen dragging her suitcase behind her, especially after she had stumbled and let it go. If it hadn’t been for the man directly behind her, catching it, it would have careened all the way to the bottom of the steps, inadvertently knocking all those in its wake off their feet.
“Why didn’t you say something?” Crispin had barked at her at the time, only he was more upset at himself than anything. He should have been more attentive. He should have realized that even though her suitcase had castors, they weren’t of much help on the stairs.
Gwen tried so hard to keep up, to hold it together, but with all the confusion, she started to feel the beginning stages of an anxiety attack coming on. Plus, her suitcase was quite heavy, having had to haul it up and down stairs. She didn’t want to seem weak and she wanted to pull her own weight but after a while, her arm muscles had nothing left in them. She struggled to catch her breath and kept her eyes on Crispin’s back. As she dragged her suitcase up the last set of steps, the worst possible thing happened. The handle slipped from her fingers and it got away from her.
When Gwen had turned to the man who had caught her suitcase to thank him, the stranger had shut her down with such a soul destroying glare that she had nearly broken down and cried. From that point, Crispin had taken her suitcase from her and carried both his and hers the rest of the way. When she had offered to take his carryon bag for him, he’d snarled at her. They were now both exhausted and overheated. Not that it was hot, it was actually cold and damp, but with their exertions and wearing coats, the two of them were nearly at the end of their ropes.
“Well?” Crispin asked, watching her stare at the tiny map in her hands.
“I’m trying,” Gwen gasped, overwhelmed. “Maybe we should go up to street level, grab a taxi instead.”
At that, Crispin could only frown. “What? After all this?” On the plane, she had very excitedly told him she wanted to take The Tube to experience London like a Londoner. Now she was ready to give up? “Not bloody likely. No freakin’ way. We’re not giving up that easily! Give me that.” Determined, he snatched it from her and studied it for a moment.
At his side, Crispin heard Gwen exhale and he watched her out of the corner of his eye. Something was not right. That much he could tell. Obviously, she was confused or at her wit’s end. For someone who’d done so much planning, she shouldn’t be so out of sorts. As it was, she’d been staring at the mangled little map for what felt like forever. Looking at it himself, he could see that she had circled Victoria Station quite clearly and as luck would have it, they would only have to catch this last connection.
“We’re almost there. Let’s go.” He tucked the map into his coat pocket and grabbed their ba
gs and started walking again.
With her heart in her throat, Gwen ran to keep up with Crispin’s strides. The idea of losing sight of him at this point was what kept her focused. He didn’t give her time to think. Once again, he hauled both suitcases down a set of stairs. She could hear a train approaching. Given the growing crowds of late night travellers around them, she needed to be mindful of staying right up close to Crispin or they might get separated. That, she would not survive!
On the latest platform, the train shrieked to a stop in front of them. Amongst the crowd, Crispin entered ahead of her and looked over his shoulder. Gwen was right there, but at the last second, for some reason, she froze. The train was packed and he had just stepped in the door. The automated “mind the gap” announcement had just sounded, signalling the doors were closing, when he literally had to reach out and yank her in with him, seconds before the doors shut in her face. She landed quite hard against him, winding them both. For a mad moment, they stood plastered together like sardines in a tin can.
At that point, Gwen didn’t know what had happened, and she didn’t care. In fact, she was incapable of caring or dealing with anything. All she knew was she had almost gotten left behind. She would have been lost. Anyone else might think it simple to find their way out of this endless labyrinth of tunnels, but to someone who suffered from anxiety, that scenario would have felt like the end of the world. Unable to cope with such a thought, she simply shut her eyes and breathed Crispin’s familiar scent into her lungs. All else ceased to exist. The only thing that mattered was the comforting darkness that enveloped her. He was holding her so tight, and she was grateful for it, but for a split second, she wondered about the fate of their luggage.
Belonging Page 5