Pretty Please Don't Pinch Me

56. Gemma is the Better Styles

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Customs is unsurprisingly a long and tedious experience and I am more settled while I wait for my plane to board.

I check the time on my phone and I notice that Harry has replied from my threatening message from earlier.

Harry: "You will do no such thing. It's my gift to you."

Ava: "I'm paying you back. Every last cent."

Harry: "I'm sure we can find some way for you to pay me back ;)"

Ava: "You are so dirty!" – and I attach a horrified looking selfie.

Harry: "Stop sending me pictures of yourself when I'm in bed and very much alone without you here..."

The pure mention of him being in bed sends a lovely shiver through me, and I have the perfect image of him in my mind as he lays half naked against his bedhead – maybe scratching his hair slowly and absentmindedly, or even rubbing his fingers delicately over his bare torso.

Ava: "How was tonight?"

Harry: "The boys had fun, though I was a bit of a bore. I ended up coming home early. Hurry up and get here..."

I know it sounds a little messed up, but I'm actually quite relieved he didn't have that much of a good time. The thought of him being out in a club with drunken attractive girls, who will inevitably hit on him, kills me a little inside. The PA system announces that we are now boarding, and I type out my last message to Harry before getting on the plane.

Ava: "I'm about to board now, so I'm switching my phone off so I don't use up all of my battery. See you soon Harry... I can't wait to get there! xx"

I join the queue and when I hand my boarding pass and Passport to the woman, she examines it a little closely and turns to me,

"It looks like you've joined the wrong queue – this is a First Class ticket," she says, showing me. "You can still go through here though, but take a left when you enter the aircraft," and she rips the part of the ticket she needs, and hands me the remaining ticket stub.

"Uhh?" is all that I can manage, before an impatient family shuffles me forward.

First Class?! That boy is double dead! I'll be paying him back well into my old age!

I hand my ticket to the Air Hostess at the entrance of the aeroplane, who directs me to my seat – though it's not just a seat, it's like my own area of space with it's own privacy screen to shield me from view. The chair is a giant armchair that has massage settings, and also the ability to go all the way back and turn into a bed. The television screen is much larger than those in economy class and I am offered Champagne before the flight, which I eagerly take.

This is the life.

Midway into the flight, and many movies later, I begin adjusting and readjusting the chair settings – leaning it back, and then forward, and trying to get it just right and I seem to have caught the attention of a young looking gentleman who is reading a novel.

"I thought it was just me that had trouble with finding the perfect position on these things," he says, patting the chair.

"Sorry if I disrupted you," I say, looking sheepish. "I'm new here," and he gives me a funny look.