Jaddi snorted from beside her before leaning over and whispering something in Samantha’s ear, sending them both into a fit of giggles.
‘Oh, we’re just about to hit the tarmac,’ Lizzie said. ‘I’d better go.’
Lizzie turned off the camera and jabbed Jaddi in the ribs. ‘What did you just say?’
‘Just that I know one friendly Australian you’ll be keen to see.’
Lizzie rolled her eyes as the aeroplane wheels bumped and skidded on the runway, lifting up into the air for a second before juddering harder onto the ground. Lizzie hardly noticed the jerking movements of the plane as the force of the breaks lurched her forward in her seat.
Her mind had already drifted to Harrison.
They’d met on a Saturday afternoon last April before the tips of her fingers had started to tingle and her hands had started dropping things for no reason. She remembered a time in August when her Oyster card had fallen out of her hand onto the tube platform at Leicester Square, and been kicked onto the tracks by a scurry of feet. Of course, it was the day she’d forgotten her purse and had had to traipse back up the broken escalator to the ticket office and plead for a ticket so she could get home. Another time, a cup of tea had slipped from her grip in the kitchen one morning and scalded Samantha’s feet.
Harrison had been the only Australian in a heaving sports bar overlooking the Thames. He’d tapped her on the shoulder and dropped to one knee as she’d turned around. ‘Will you marry me?’ he’d said, causing raucous laughter to erupt from the group of drinkers behind him.
She’d grinned. ‘How about buying me a beer first?’
So he had.
‘I’m being deported!’ he shouted over the noise of the rugby match on the big screen and the cheers from a nearby table. He pouted as he handed her a tall, cold glass of lager, pushing his lips out and turning the corners of his mouth down.
Without thinking about anything but the buzz of alcohol already cloaking her head, without questioning why someone as drop-dead gorgeous as Harrison with his blonde floppy hair and perfect face would be talking to her, Lizzie had leant forward and planted a kiss on his lips.
She drew away, laughing at herself, her cheeks colouring. But one of Harrison’s hands touched the back of her head, guiding her back towards him until they were kissing. Properly kissing, right there on a Saturday afternoon in a pub that served cheap beer and soggy chips. It was the best kiss she’d ever had.
‘I did try to appeal and change it to a working visa,’ he’d told her much later as they’d strolled hand in hand along the river. ‘But I’m done for. Last I heard, the deportation letter is in the post.’
The uncertainty of it all had drawn her in. Hook, line and sinker. She’d spent so much of her life shrouded in equivocalness; surviving three brain tumours, not to mention the countless check-ups and hospital visits, did that to a person. For all of the days she’d woken up filled with a sense of empowerment, desperate to seize the day, embrace life and enjoy herself, there were as many days she woke up imprisoned by an invisible wall of foreboding, as if her life was one big visa application about to be denied.
They’d dived into a relationship head first, jumping straight over the awkward first dates and getting to know each other stage, and straight into the love-sick teenager phase. They’d taken day trips to all the places Harrison still hadn’t seen. One day they were riding the pier train at Southend-on-Sea, the next they were climbing Mount Snowdon.
For two weeks they spent every moment they could together. And then, just like that, he left.
She’d cried for a day and moped for a week, but eventually she’d stopped thinking about him. Even when Caroline and Jaddi had booked their flights to Sydney it hadn’t crossed Lizzie’s mind that she might see Harrison again. It was only when his name appeared on the message stream that it had all flooded back. They’d been pinging messages back and forth ever since, catching up on the time they’d spent apart. She’d told him how exciting it had been to quit her data admin job and start a teacher-training qualification, and the first MRI scan two weeks into her course. Then a CT and a PET scan. Endless tests while all the time knowing they’d find another tumour.
Harrison had told her about adjusting to life back in Australia, training to be a recruitment consultant, which he hated. The sights he couldn’t wait to show her, the friends he wanted her to meet. Each message ebbing away from friendly reminiscence and closer to something more intimate.
Lizzie fiddled with the ends of her hair, which had finally grown over the tops of her ears. Harrison had loved her swishy ponytail. Now what would he think? Lizzie dropped her hand and shook the thought away. Whether he liked her hair or not was a tad trivial compared to the reason she was on this trip in the first place. Somehow, in all of their messages, her prognosis and the documentary had never come up. What did that mean? And was she ready to pick up where they’d left off, even if it meant millions of people would be watching?
‘All set?’ Jaddi nudged Lizzie’s elbow.
Lizzie looked up, surprised to hear the clanging metal of unclipping seatbelts sound across the aircraft and the hatch door ahead of them swing open. They’d arrived. Nerves popped in the pit of her stomach. It was the good kind for a change, the kind she’d felt before jumping off the rock in Cambodia, rather than the kind she felt anytime she allowed herself to think about her future.
‘Yep.’ Lizzie smiled.
CHAPTER 20
Samantha
Harsh morning sunlight burnt at the back of Samantha’s retinas as she stepped out of the aeroplane and clonked down the metal air stairs. Her body craved a Coca-Cola or sweets, or anything in fact that contained a strong hit of sugar. Oh, and a shower. She was pretty sure the tangy whiffs affronting her nose were emanating from her armpits and the damp area of her T-shirt, growing by the second in the heat.
Samantha understood the appeal of night flights – go to sleep in one country, sleep all night, and wake up in another country without wasting a day travelling – but it never worked out like that, or at least it didn’t for her. Sleep just wasn’t the same. The quality, the depth, the length of time before the ache in her neck forced her to wake and change position. She ducked her head and stared at her feet as Ben stepped in front of them, already on the runway filming their descent. There were times when Ben and his camera were nothing more than a blip on their horizon, but there were also times, like now, when the reflection of the black lens made her cheeks flush red and her stomach cringe.
Samantha glanced at Jaddi and Lizzie as they stepped through the glass doors and into the baggage-claim area. There was no mistaking the excitement at a new destination hovering between them, but it was tinged with something else. Something unspoken. The gut-wrenching reality that one month and one part of their trip was behind them. She could see it in the crease of Jaddi’s forehead and the way she kept glancing behind her, left and right, as if waiting for something bad to happen. Samantha felt it too.
Time had slowed on the Thai islands as they’d lounged in the sun, taken boat trips to remote coves, and snorkelled in an ocean as clear as tap water. A grey fog of exhaustion had clouded Samantha’s head in Vietnam, blocking out the sights of the trails. Only David was clear. His voice, his touch, it was all there, running on repeat inside her head, as if seeing Happy’s injuries had unleashed the memories from somewhere hidden inside her head, and she’d been stuck reliving them over and over.
Only during their weeks on the islands had the exhaustion released its hold on her. As if submerging herself into the depths of the turquoise ocean had cleansed her of the shock and anger from her final afternoon with David.
‘You OK, hon?’ Lizzie touched Samantha’s arm.
Samantha jumped back, startled by the touch. She mustered a short laugh. ‘Yes, sorry, I was miles away.’
‘You’ve been doing that a lot, you know.’ Lizzie frowned, her eyes scanning Samantha’s face. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?’
Samantha shook her head. ‘It’s tiredness, that’s all. I didn’t sleep properly on the plane.’ A heaviness spread over Samantha’s chest for the lie she’d told. But however much it hurt, upsetting Lizzie wouldn’t change what had happened.
CHAPTER 21
Jaddi
Jaddi shrugged off her backpack and dropped it to the floor. There didn’t seem much point carrying it when they weren’t moving.
‘I never realised how nice orderly queues could be,’ Samantha said, oblivious to the tedium circling Jaddi as they joined the back of the line that would take them through Australian customs.
If it was up to Jaddi, she’d barge to the front and play the can-we-cut-in-front-of-you-because-my-best-friend-only-has-sixty-days-left-on-earth card. Instead Jaddi sighed and scooped her hair up into a messy bun. It wasn’t up to her, it was up to Lizzie, and drawing attention to themselves didn’t exactly fit with Lizzie’s desire to be like every other traveller, something they’d done well with so far, considering the growing media attention back in the UK and online.
Despite the dozens of tabloid stories, the trending Twitter hashtags, and the millions of followers on their Facebook page, they’d existed within in their own bubble in Southeast Asia. But would it last? From the number of comments posted by Australians on Facebook, it was clear that the documentary’s reach had expanded outside of the UK.
Jaddi glanced over her shoulder, half expecting to see a group of well-meaning fans rushing towards them. She smirked to herself and discarded the thought. Fans? Who was she kidding? Australia was a huge country with just as many remote places as Southeast Asia. Nothing would pop the bubble. She wouldn’t let it.
As the passengers in front of them began to move, Jaddi hoisted her bag from the floor and stepped forward two paces. ‘I kind of liked the mosh pit of travellers trying to get into Vietnam,’ she said. ‘All those men zipping around offering to bribe border control and get us through in minutes for a small fee. It was fun.’
‘I’ve always thought there was something strange about you, Jaddi.’ Samantha shook her head. ‘Well, your idea of fun anyway. We were at that border for two hours. I must have sweated my entire body weight whilst watching coach loads of people walk straight past our so-called line and to the front. What is the point of organising visas in advance if that’s how they’re going to manage it? Call that fun?’
‘Maybe fun is not the right word. It was definitely an—’
‘Authentic experience,’ Lizzie and Samantha chorused before falling into a fit of giggles.
‘Well, it was.’ Jaddi laughed, pulling out her mobile and turning it on.
‘Will you put your phone away for five minutes?’ Samantha flicked Jaddi’s phone with her finger. ‘It’s been glued to your hand for the past week.’
Jaddi grinned. ‘Sorry. I’m just confirming the Segway booking for tomorrow.’
‘Oh God, I know that smile.’ Samantha shook her head. ‘What are you getting us into now?’
Jaddi laughed. ‘It’s just an off-road Segway ride through Newington Park.’
Samantha shook her head. ‘So why are you smiling your mischief-making smile? The one you had last summer when you talked me into doing that mud-wrestling event in Regent’s Park.’
‘Hey, that was hilarious,’ Jaddi said, grinning, ‘and you know it. And it was for charity. Don’t worry, the Segways will be fun, I promise.’
‘Plus –’ Lizzie winked at Jaddi ‘– don’t you want to see Ben trying to drive a Segway and film at the same time.’
‘I’m standing right here, you know?’ he said from behind the camera.
Lizzie laughed. ‘Sorry.’
‘No, you’re not,’ he said with a smirk.
‘You’re right, I’m not.’ She grinned at him.
Ben poked his head out from the camera and shot them a look. It didn’t last. His face relaxed and the bemused smile Jaddi had seen more and more of appeared.
A movement caught Jaddi’s eye. ‘Er, Ben?’ She raised her eyebrows as a man in a pale-blue uniform strode purposefully towards them.
The officer tapped Ben twice on the shoulder before positioning himself in front of them. The officer’s legs stretched into an upside-down V, one hand on the black baton on his hip, the other on the radio receiver attached to his breast pocket. ‘I’m going to need you to pack your equipment away, sir.’ The officer’s head barely reached Ben’s shoulder, but the man had a presence about him. The tanned muscles bulging out his shirt sleeves added to the effect.
‘I’m a cameraman,’ Ben said, pulling a plastic identification card from the side pocket of his khaki trousers. ‘I’m filming a UK documentary.’
‘Sir, turn it off.’
‘No problem.’ Ben smiled a cooperative smile and zipped his camera into its bag whilst the officer continued to stare. The line ahead moved three paces without them.
‘Ben got told off,’ Jaddi sing-songed once the officer was out of earshot.
Ben shook his head before hoisting his bags onto his back.
‘Don’t be mean, Jaddi,’ Samantha sniggered. ‘Poor Benny is upset enough as it is.’
‘All right, all right.’ Ben glared between them. ‘I know it was very funny, but the line is moving.’ He nodded towards the white screen and three more uniformed officers.
Jaddi patted Ben on the shoulder and stepped forward. ‘Sydney, here we come.’
‘You coming, Liz?’ Samantha smiled.
‘Er …’ Lizzie dropped her eyes to her clothes and ran a finger over a stain on her top. ‘Go on without me. I think I’ll freshen up quickly.’
‘Oh, yeah.’ Jaddi grinned. ‘Lover boy is waiting.’
Lizzie swiped Jaddi on the arm. ‘I’ll be five minutes,’ she called as she turned towards the toilet sign.
Samantha stared after her. ‘Shall we wait for her?’
‘You guys go,’ Ben said. ‘I’ll wait for Lizzie and hold our place in the queue,’ he added, pointing towards a new wave of passengers trundling out of baggage claim towards them. ‘Get us some coffees, OK?’
‘Done.’ Jaddi nudged Samantha’s arm. ‘Let’s go.’
CHAPTER 22
Jaddi
It was the little boy who dropped his panda that saved them. The bear slipped out of his chubby hands smack bang between the automatic doors, stopping the family in their tracks for several seconds as the boy wailed and wriggled in his mother’s arms, and the dad let go of his daughter to retrieve the teddy and return it to the boy’s clutches. All the while the automatic doors remained open, giving Jaddi a clear view of what awaited them.
On the other side of the waist-high plastic barrier, separating those arriving from those waiting, a swelling crowd of friends, family and loved ones craned their necks, searching for the first glimpse of the next people to walk through. And boxing them in were a dozen men and women with notebooks and cameras. Lots of cameras. Even from the other side of the doors, Jaddi could feel the anticipation crackling in the air. Then, just as the family ahead of them moved through, just as the doors began to close, Jaddi saw him. Front and centre to it all, in a bright, lime-green T-shirt, was Harrison.
Jaddi gasped and grabbed Samantha’s elbow, dragging her to one side. So much for being like any other traveller. So much for obscurity. Panicked questions raced through Jaddi’s head. How was Lizzie going to react? She’d be pissed, that’s for sure. Hurt too? Frustrated? Sad? All of the above? Something sank deep down inside of her. Their bubble had well and truly burst.
‘What are you doing?’ Sam asked, staring around her as the doors closed.
‘Right,’ Jaddi said, dropping Samantha’s arm. ‘Don’t panic, but there are some reporters out there.’
‘Oh.’ Samantha raised her eyebrows, peeking her head over Jaddi’s as the doors closed again. ‘Do you think there was someone famous on our flight?’
Jaddi shook her head. ‘They’re here for us, Sam. For Lizzie.’
‘Oh, shit. We have to warn Lizzie
.’
‘It’s too late; we’re through customs already. We can’t go back now.’
A woman from customs started to wave them through and Jaddi made a step to the doors, but Samantha stood rooted to the spot. ‘What do we do? No way am I going out there.’
‘Yes, you are.’ Jaddi took Sam’s hand. ‘Stay this side of me. Smile, wave and keep walking.’
‘But—’
‘Harrison’s out there. They’re waiting for Lizzie, not us. Best thing we can do is get through and wait for Lizzie there.’
Samantha nodded. ‘OK.’
As the automatic doors opened for them, Jaddi whispered into Samantha’s ear, ‘Look normal.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘I don’t really know. I just thought it would look more normal if we were talking. Here we go,’ she added as they stepped into clear view of the arrivals hall. Jaddi raised her head and grinned, waiting for the flashing of cameras and shouts from the paparazzi.
Nothing happened. Nothing changed. The journalists continued to jostle and crane their necks. Some talked on phones, others fiddled with their cameras.
‘Ha,’ Samantha said with a giddy sigh as she surveyed the reporters from a spot out the way. ‘They’re so busy looking for Lizzie that they didn’t even see us. Guess we’re not the famous ones,’ she grinned, nudging an elbow into Jaddi’s side.
‘I guess not,’ Jaddi said, frowning at the crowd. It wasn’t as if she cared about being famous, or recognised – not really anyway – but she cared about protecting Lizzie and had hoped to draw some of the attention away from her friend. Jaddi’s chest tightened.
For the briefest of moments Jaddi wondered, if she could go back to that night in October – when Lizzie had walked like an empty shell into their flat, when she’d fought so hard to swallow back the tears, and failed … when Jaddi had stared at the blank webpage on her laptop and pondered all of their futures – would she still have gone through with it, knowing how big the can of worms would become? The question left a mawkish tingle in her mouth.
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