Where You Are

Heathrow Airport

Jesse

When I woke up again, it was to yet another headache, covered in a cold sweat and with an ominous feeling that something was very, very wrong. My bones were still achy, but not as bad as they had been. Physically, I was feeling a bit better, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right.

Instinctively, even though it had only been two days but damn it, I was already used to it, I reached for Birgitta. I was vaguely aware that my poor attempts at seduction the night before hadn't been successful, but with any luck, there was still a bit of time before we had to get up. However, I only encountered empty bed space beside me where I was expecting to find her.

I opened my eyes fully and switched the lamp on my night table on.

Shit, she really was gone. Had I dreamed it all? What day was it? I couldn't honestly answer. Had she even been here at all?

There was a note on the pillow she'd been using. I grabbed for it.

Jesse,
I tried waking you up, but I didn't have the heart, you looked so comfortable. You did wake up enough to kiss me and tell me you love me, just in case you forgot.
I'm getting the bus to the airport, so don't worry about me. I know you were sick, but I still had a good time with you!
I left the book here so I'm not tempted to read it without you, don't forget it when you come to see me!
Feel better soon!
I'll call you when I get back home,
Love you,
Birgitta

'Shit!' I said out loud and reached for my mobile to check the time.

It was later than I wanted it to be, I didn't have long before she had to be at the airport. Her side of the bed wasn't even warm, she'd been gone a while. I wracked my brain but couldn't remember a thing from when she'd apparently said goodbye.

I swung my legs out of bed and started searching for clothes that didn't stink like I'd been ill for two days then barrelled out of the flat like a bat out of hell juggling my car keys, wallet and mobile.

I could get to the airport in twenty minutes by car where it took over an hour by bus. Hell, I hoped I wasn't too late. I couldn't remember kissing her goodbye at all, but if she said it happened, I believed her. But I wanted to remember it. I hardly remembered anything about the past couple of days, only bits and pieces. And even then I couldn't be sure what had been a dream and what had actually happened. I wanted to actually remember kissing her goodbye.

I jumped into my car, shoved the key into the ignition and drove wildly all the way to Heathrow. I'd done the drive so many times before, but never in a hurry. I didn't like it, I hated being in a rush and there was so much traffic, I was afraid I'd cause an accident. But I had to see her, it would be weeks before I would see her again.

I took up two parking spaces when I arrived in the staff car park. I didn't even take the time to wonder that I'd been able to find two empty spaces right beside each other before jumping back out and taking off as quick as my illness-weakened body would allow me. I checked the time again. There was still time, but not much and she hadn't brought a checked bag, so she didn't need to be at the airport as early. She'd probably already checked in online as well, she was a very experienced traveller. All she'd need to do when she got there was go through security.

Damn it, I'd forgotten my airline ID, I wouldn't be able to get past security or into restricted areas without it and I didn't have enough time to go back and get it.

To my utter relief, serendipity, perhaps, I caught a glimpse of her getting off of a bus and pausing outside of the airport, looking around, probably trying to work out which way to go.