Life In Flashes

the one with the suspension

"We're just about to pick up our luggage," I said into the mouth piece.

Of course, that was the exact moment that my shoulder rammed into a man who was walking in the opposite direction. I turned to watch him incredulously as he walked away. The dude was wearing a suit with shoes that looked like they'd just been shined, and hadn't so much as blinked at the collision. And he was holding a fucking Starbucks cup.

Prick.

The phone was dropping to my side in my hand, and my mouth was already open, ready to shout abuse at the twat. I'd never claimed not to be confrontational head case – it was well proven by now. Only I would be hotheaded enough to start a fight in the middle of an airport, especially one as bustling as Heathrow. Well, I could think of another person too, maybe even two if the circumstances were right (Cam liked to claim he'd gone soft in his "old" age, but I knew better).

However I never did get the chance to get the words out.

A hand gripped my elbow and the glance down to see the nails painted a bright purple was like being doused in freezing water. Oh, yeah. Just seeing the delicate hand wrapped around the soft fabric had about a dozen things occurring to me.

One, my little sister was with me. And while eighteen hadn't been young when I was her age, now she seemed like a fucking toddler. Especially when she had those big blue eyes staring at me, just pleading not to make a scene with the pouting lips at all. Fuck, she could manipulate with the best of them, couldn't she?

It gave me a twisting sensation when I remembered just where we'd gotten it from. The same person that was the reason she was spending her spring break in London. Whatever, I was cooler than our dad – far cooler. She'd told me as much while sniffling over the phone. Still didn't take away the sting that he was still as unreliable as when I'd been a kid, leaving his children hanging on the holidays they were supposed to spending with him. That kind of throbbing betrayal never really left, no matter how many years passed, even though it had been years since he'd been able to fuck with my head. I wasn't a teenager anymore.

That only did to remind me that I was in my bloody forties – not exactly the time to be getting arrested in an airport. Not to mention, there was an eleven year old boy waiting for me in this very airport with his father.

I gave a jolt at that, remembering the phone call that I'd dropped for a moment.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," I said hurriedly with the cell phone back pressed against my ear. With a jerk of my head, I got Prudence falling into step with me again. I could have walked the airport with my eyes closed by now, forever flying in and out, and she trusted my judgment blindly. Said something, didn't it? "It's mad in here, got distracted."

It wasn't a lie, but Prudence jerked around to look at me. Her eyes glinted mischievously and she paired it with a smug smirk – it was exactly the expression I imagined I wore when I was planning something. Really, it was a wonder that I didn't told off more often.

I narrowed my eyes at her, but of course she didn't heed the warning. She was my sister. Instead she moved in close to me, and in a high voice, said gleefully, "She was about to start a fight, Cam. A fight – in an airport, because someone knocked into her. Cam." Her tone only implied that I was ridiculous.

There didn't seem much else I could do but send her a dark look as I hurried forwards into the airport. Maybe I could lose her if moved fast enough.

Still the laughter that her words caused wasn't all that bad. I'd gotten used to hearing it over crackly phone lines and delayed video calls, but that didn't mean its effect had lessened. A smile grudgingly spread across my mouth all the same. There was a tug somewhere around my navel, like it was telling me exactly where I should go, because it was going to be back in my life again – for real. Cam was going to be there, real and within touching distance. The reminder was dizzying.