Peyton Ackley - The Beginning of Change

Chapter 11 - Going Home

The airport was as chaotic as ever, I mustn't have noticed just how much foot traffic was travelling through the London airport when I first arrived in England. It was hard to believe that I had been away from Australia for nearly two months. I hated the idea of having to greet my family when I returned, it was hard having to leave them for two months, well it was hard to leave him, for two months. 

Flying had never been the highlight of travelling for me, 'it's a flying tin can' I used to say when I was being forced to fly as a child. I'd often have to be dragged onto the plane kicking and screaming because I simply hated it, but now there was no one to drag me to the flight so I was mentally fighting with myself to turn away - but he was waiting at the other end.

The trip wasn't overly disruptive, so I attempted to get as much sleep as possible to counteract the jetlag I would encounter upon landing, but I was constantly dreading the reunion I would be having almost too soon. It's not like I left on bad terms, considering my situation everything was well thought out and well planned. I just didn't know how he would react seeing me back. I'd told him I'd be back in only two months which seems like a long time, but I'd left him for longer before.

Once I landed in Australia and stepped off the 'flying tin can', I was flooded with the warmth from the Australian summer. The hoodie I'd been wearing was quickly ripped off my body to avoid overheating, but it didn't seem socially acceptable to rip my pants off in the middle of the Gold Coast Airport. I'd forgotten how vastly different the climates were from Australia to England but I'd been quickly reminded. The summers here were also stinking hot and the winters over there were deathly cold, a yin and yang kind of thing is probably how to best describe it.

I didn't want to disturb anyone by asking them to come pick me up, it was just after 7 pm after all, so I ordered an Uber. In hindsight, I probably should have considered the steep prices those drivers offer and ordered something a little cheaper, or just pestered someone to come pick me up. Either way, it was a shock when I pulled up to my old beach house in Byron Bay after the 45-minute drive from the airport. The air was salty as ever, with the strong coastal winds hitting my face. It was quite refreshing actually and ultimately cooled me down. My favourite bit was that I could hear the familiar lap of the waves hitting the sand on the other side of the house, it used to be one of my favourite parts of living on the beach.

After paying the driver and unloading my single duffel bag I headed up the front porch to knock at the front door. It was a cliche beach house, like one from a movie. The bright white siding and rock accents made it look serene from the outside. In the morning it welcomed the newly risen sun into the open living room and at night it offered a beautiful verandah to star gaze from. The palm trees scattered around the front and back offered limited shelter from the blazing sun during the summer days, but it was perfect.

I could hear my knock ring out through the hallway, although it was my own house, I didn't really feel like intruding after not being around for two months. The first thing I could hear was the dog, his loud barking echoed out the door, "Cruise," I muttered under my breath. I how I'd missed the brown and white bundle of fur. He was a border collie and was the perfect beach dog - the perfect companion on my morning walks.

Then I heard his footsteps, they were light and rapid as he ran through the house towards the front door. They were trailed by heavier, more paced footsteps and a deep voice calling out, "Slow down!" 

"Mumma!" called out a little face as he rounded the corner making the final sprint down the hall. Without a second thought, I ripped the door open and scooped my little boy into my arms, tears began to fall from my eyes but I quickly wiped them away not wanting him to see.

"Hi, my boy," I said as I hugged him tighter than ever before. He was back in my arms, and I was never going to leave his side again.

"Mumma, you're squishing me," he muttered as he began to wiggle from my grip, so I placed him on the ground and turned to the figure behind him.