Mates, Dates and Great Escapes

by Cathy Hopkins

  ‘I still mean it that I love you guys,’ I said.

  ‘Ditto,’ said Nesta. ‘Now where’s our lunch?’

  That’s one thing I love about Nesta. She can go down fast, but she can come up even quicker.

  The rest of the flight went smoothly and, before we knew it, we were starting to descend into London. It was grey and cold as we got off the plane, but it did feel good to be back on solid ground and not thirty-five thousand feet up in the air being thrown about. We were through Passport Control quickly enough, then it was off to collect our luggage before getting on to the coach for the last leg of the journey back to school where Mum or Dad would be waiting. Well, hello London, I thought as we walked through Customs and through the arrival gates. Crowds of people were waiting behind the barriers for friends and relatives, some with names on cardboard, one family with a banner saying, ‘Welcome home’. It felt nice and festive watching all the eager faces waiting to greet their loved ones. And it felt good to be able to understand everything that was being said all around us again.

  ‘It’s nice to go travelling,’ sang Mr Johnson as he wheeled his trolley past us, ‘in winter, summer or rain, but it’s so much nicer, yes it’s so much nicer to come home.’

  Izzie laughed and nudged me. ‘He seems happy,’ she said with a grin.

  ‘I wonder why,’ I said. ‘I mean, most men would be happy to go away with twenty-five gorgeous young girls.’

  ‘Ah . . . look,’ said Izzie, pointing to the end of the fine of people waiting for arrivals. ‘So sweet.’

  I glanced to where she was pointing and there was a boy dressed in jeans and a black coat. I couldn’t see his face as it was partly obscured by the most enormous bunch of white roses. How romantic, I thought. He’s come to meet his girlfriend and, judging by the size of that stunning bouquet, she means a lot to him.

  ‘Oh. My. God,’ said TJ, then nudged me. I turned to look at her and saw that her face registered surprise. She pointed at the boy with the flowers again.

  I looked back at him.

  Now I could see his face.

  It was Tony.