Unexpected Rendezvous

Chapter 1

Perrie's POV

I love a good checklist, but I'm beginning to think my Mum went overboard. 

"Sorry, what page?" I ask, flipping through the handout at our kitchen table whilst Mum watches me expectantly via FaceTime. The heading reads 'Edwards 20th Anniversary Trip: Instructions for Perrie and Jonnie', and it's 11 pages total. Double-sided. My Mum planned the first time she and Dad ever left me and my brother alone, for 4 days, with the same thoroughness and military precision she brings to everything. Between the checklist and the frequent calls over FaceTime and Skype, it's as if they never left. 

"Nine," Mum says. Her blonde hair is flowing over her shoulders in her signature straight look and her makeup is flawless, even though it's barely 5am in New York. My parents' flight home doesn't take off for another 3 and a half hours, but Mum is never anything but prepared. "Right after the lighting section."

"Ah, the lighting section." My brother, Jonnie, sighs dramatically from across the table as he overfills a bowl with Froot Loops. Jonnie, despite being 16, has the cereal tastes of a toddler. "I would have thought we could turn them on when we need them, and off when we don't. I was wrong. So very, very wrong."

"A well-lit house deters break-ins," Mum says, like we don't live on a street where the closest thing we've ever witnessed to a criminal act is kids riding bikes without helmets.

I keep my eyeroll to myself though, because it's impossible to win an argument against my Mum. She teaches applied statistics at Cambridge, and has up-to-the-minute data for everything. It's why I'm flicking through her checklist for the section on CCY Award Ceremony - a list of to-dos in preparation for Mum being named Charlton Citizen of the Year, thanks to her contributions to a nationwide report on Ecstasy abuse. 

"Found it," I say, quickly scanning the page for anything I may have missed. "I picked up your dress from the dry cleaners yesterday, so that's all set. 

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Mum says. "Our plane is supposed to land at 5:30. Theoretically, with the ceremony starting at 7, that's enough time to come home and change. But I just realised I never told you what to do if we're running late and need to go straight from the airport to Knebworth House."

"Um," I meet her penetrating gaze through my laptop screen. "Couldn't you just, you know, text me if that happens?"

"I will if I can. But you should probably sign up for the flight alerts incase the plane Wi-Fi isn't working," Mum says. "We couldn't get a signal the entire way over. Anyway, if we don't touch down before 6, I'd like you to meet us there and bring the dress. I'll need shoes and jewellery too. Do you have a pen handy? I'll tell you which ones."

Jonnie helps himself to more cereal, and I try to suppress my usual low-simmering resentment for my brother as I hastily scribble notes down. Half of my life is spent wondering why I have to work twice as hard as Jonnie at everything I do, but in this case, I asked for it. Before my parents left, I insisted on handling every aspect of the award ceremony, mainly because I was afraid that if I didn't, my Mum would realise she'd made a mistake by asking me, not Jonnie, to introduce her. My genius brother, who skipped a grade and is currently outshining me in every aspect of our final year at school, would have been the logical choice. 

Part of me can't help but think Mum regrets her decision. Especially after yesterday, when my one and only claim to school fame was brutally taken away from me. 

My stomach rolls as I drop the pen and push my empty cereal bowl away. Mum, ever alert as always, catches this motion. "Perrie, I'm sorry. I'm keeping you from breakfast, aren't I?"

"It's fine, I'm not hungry."

"You have to eat though," she urges. "Have some toast, or fruit."

The thought doesn't appeal even a little. "I can't."