DUNKIRK | HARRY STYLES

[Scene Two]

two weeks later

I lay next to my suitcase, my hands itching to unzip it and stay home. My whole life was packed inside of it and to leave, to take my life into my own hands and say goodbye was a very, very scary prospect. I'd never done anything in my life truly alone. I was always surrounded by my brothers, all of them helping me through tough patches, spooning me ice cream at 3am, crying with me for hours on end, enduring my weird taste in movies. They were my rocks, and I didn't know who I was going to rely on anymore.

We'd already said our goodbyes, and I was glad they all weren't tagging along to the airport, as I didn't think I could leave as their faces urged me to stay. They were my weakness; my achilles heel.

"India, you need to go now. Your plane is leaving in," Mum checked her watch as she stepped into my room. "2 hours and 46 minutes."

I heaved myself off the bed, silently bidding it a sweet goodbye. It had housed me well over the years, enduring my crying fits and even my very first kiss. We'd been through a lot together.

"You sure you want to drive yourself? I can cancel work and-"

"Don't worry Mum, I've got it under control." I pulled my suitcase off the bed, a loud thump following as it hit the wooden floor clumsily. She didn't look convinced.

"If you're sure.."

"I'm sure. Goodbye Mum." She enveloped me in a warm hug, transporting me back to simpler days. She still smelt the same, a sweet, rosy scent that perfumed the air around her, leaving a trail. I suddenly realised how much I loved her.

"Goodbye Inds. Now you better text me when you get to the airport, and when you get on the plane. Oh, and when you land. Call me as soon as you get to your hotel and every day after that."

"I'll send you hourly reports." I saluted her and she chuckled softly.

"My baby all grown up. The first bird to leave the nest." She muttered and kissed me swiftly on the forehead.

I climbed into my car a few minutes later after a thorough check that I had everything I needed, waving goodbye to Mum as she stood in the doorway. As I drove away I could've sworn I'd seen a tear trailing down her cheek.

//

The 8 hour flight was uncomfortable, as most are. Cold air was pumped vigorously around the plane till my eyes were sore and my arms were covered in goosebumps. I couldn't fall asleep, so wasted time watching films that I'd already seen and drinking cup after cup of tea to keep me calm as I was a nervous flyer.

I breathed a sigh of relief as the robotic voice announced our safe landing, and queued for hours on end at check in with a smile on my voice, trying to be optimistic about my trip. I daydreamed about what could happen on the set of this movie, fabricating the perfect experience complete with falling in love and finding my dream job. By the time I'd got to the end of my little fantasy I was standing outside the airport, searching for Dad.

It was drizzling slightly, the sky above full of ragged, dull clouds. Thunder raged in the distance, but the air was tinged with warmness; it was clear a summer storm was about to commence.

I was staring up at the sky, wondering if I should bother rummaging around for an umbrella in case Dad was late, when someone tapped lightly on my shoulder. Turning around quickly, I was faced with a friendly looking man. He started speaking rapidly in French, pointing towards the grey car park.