Accidental Love

Shocking admissions

A week may be a long time in politics, or so they say, but when you're desperate to see someone again, it feels like a lifetime. Make that ten days, and it's more than a man can stand.

Tom drummed his fingers on the armrest of the plane seat. They'd taken off from JFK eight hours ago and now were on the final descent into London.

Usually, flying was a pleasure. Being looked after hand and foot. Sleeping when you want, eating when you want, having space to relax, and just unwind. Yes, first class had its advantages, for which he was (usually) eternally grateful.  Today, however, even a private jet run by an army of Shakespeare quoting Supermodels serving Victoria Sponge and Earl Grey constantly wouldn't have made him any less restless.

For the thousandth time, he looked at his watch. Who the hell said absence made the heart grow fonder? They were a fool. It made the heart sad and desperate, and the mind full of longing.  God, he'd missed her.  A single date, and he was done for. Who would have believed it?

Tom. That's who. And maybe Luke. He'd had to deal with the lovesick teenager all week. Sending flowers, sending more flowers, and finally arranging for her to receive a single red rose every day while he was gone.

Now Luke sat next to him, grinning like a lunatic as he watched his friend almost self combust. It had been a VERY long time since he'd seen Tom this head over heels about anyone, let alone someone he'd only met twice in reality.

Tom gazed out the window, picturing her looking up at the plane as it flew over her. He smiled and shook his head as the penguin story came to mind.  Oh little Pingu, he thought, I hope you're watching. I hope you're waiting.

They'd texted every day he was away.  It had started quite casually, each pretending that they were just cadual acquaintances. Both knowing that was a lie. As the week had gone on, they had become more, well, just more. Rather than random texts, they "spoke" at the same time every night (for her), and they said good morning every day (for him).

Now, he was waiting to text that he'd landed safely. They would arrange to meet for dinner and he would confess his feelings. Well, that was the plan anyway. To say he loved her, well, that might be stretching things a bit far a week into knowing her, but he knew he was hurtling down that path. He only hoped that she wouldn't run a mile in the opposite direction. 

The plane landed with a jolt and taxied to the stand. The seatlbelt sign pinged off and milliseconds later, before he'd even exchanged a word with Luke, he was pulling out his phone.

"IM BACK PINGU. TEXT YOU WHEN I GET HOME. DINNER? TONIGHT? 8? LET ME KNOW SOON OK, LXXXT"

He hovvered over the send button. Should he just call her? No, it was only 8.30 am. She'd be sleeping. The last thing she wanted was his travel worn face scaring the bejeesus out her as she woke up. Pressing send, he put the phone away and turned to Luke.

"Sorry, I just had to text Pingu," he said without thinking. He only realised his mistake when Luke raised his eyebrows and smirked.

"Pingu?" He laughed, "really?"

"Ehehehe," Tom sniggered, "an inside joke!" He tapped his nose."I'll get Becky to tell you sometime."

Luke rolled his eyes and laughed. "I swear you two are on a different planet to the rest of us, man!" He consulted his phone."That's Terry here with the car. He'll meet us in arrivals."

Tom smiled. "So he kept his job then? He was so worried they'd fire him, poor sod. Really unfair, an accident is just that! An accident!"

"Yeah, well, it seems that someone contacted the chauffeur company and explained it was not his fault. The woman driving the car in front had been one of those animal welfare nutters. Willing to crash her car to save a cat. Terry couldn't have avoided it even if he'd had stilts."

"No way! That's so unfair on Becky! Who would say such mean things about her? I mean , I know it saved Terry's job, but it was truly awful to throw Becky under the bus like that."

Luke smiled across at him and gave a half smug snort. "That's the best bit. It was Becky that called them!"

"No bloody way!" Tom was astonished and in no small way incredibly proud of her.  Despite totally disagreeing with her assessment of herself, he was nevertheless blown away she would do that for Terry.  But then, when he thought about it, was he REALLY surprised she was that person? In all honesty, no, he wasn't.

Two hours and one missing suitcase later, they were on their way back to Tom's house.  He'd waited and waited for his luggage, all to no avail. Eventually, Luke had made him go and sit in the car with Terry while he dealt with the logistics of reporting it missing.  Tom was, understandably, furious.

He could bear to lose his dirty washing. Hell, he could bear to never see some of those overworn and infamous on their own blue jumpers.

What he couldn't stand was the thought that his gift for Becky had been lost.  A special little gift he could only have gotten in New York. It wasn't the value. No, that was in the gift currently nestled in his holdall, but it was the realisation that she'd never see the effort he'd gone to. It briefly crossed his mind she hadn't replied to his message, but he dismissed it as her still being asleep.

With a resigned sigh, he opened the door as the car drew up and got out.  Luke followed him, trotting round the car from the opposite side.

"Come on, let's get you sorted, and then we can both knock off and rest.  Don't know about you, but I'm shattered!" He walked towards Tom's door, but Tom stopped him.

"It's ok, honestly, you get yourself home. You've worked relentlessly this last week.  Thanks, man.  For everything. " he hugged Luke, and they parted again, Luke shaking his head.

"All part of the service Sir," he joked as they parted ways. "If you're sure you don't mind.." The sentence was ended by Tom.

"Go home! Relax. We've a couple of days with nothing scheduled. Make sure you take the downtime.  Speak to you in a few days. "

As Tom unlocked his door, he turned and waved to the disappearing vehicle.  As he walked into the hallway, his phone rang. Becky! His heart leapt, and he raced to throw himself on the sofa so he could relax as he chatted.

He was going to be glad he was sitting down.

"Darling!" He beamed as he spoke, the joy reflected in his voice, "what a lovely surprise!"

She paused, "Tom? Are you sitting down?" There was no greeting, no preamble. This was serious.

"Yes," he sat upright, a cold sense of dread washing over him. "What's up, love?" His stomach churned.

"I'm in hospital, Tom. Please can you come? I'm scared." He could hear her cry softly, and his mind screamed at him. 

"Shhhh, it's ok, Pingu, I'm coming. Where are you and what ward?" He said softly, hanging onto his own composure by his fingernails.

"St Thomas's, ward 12. It's the spinal ward, Tom. Please, please hurry. I'm frightened Tom."

"It's going to be ok, love. I'm on my way." He hung up and sat for a second.

What the bloody hell was going on? There was only one way to find out.  The door slammed noisily behind him.