Page 12 of Big Sexy Love
‘Doesn’t she have family in America who can send this letter?’Donnaasks.
I shake my head. ‘She was a foster kid. She doesn’t have family.Iam her family. I will be back in less than a week. So, you can either support me and help me sort out this shit heap,’ I say, indicating the room of doom. ‘Or you can bugger off. I’m already nervous as it is and I don’t need you two here trying to talk me outofit.’
There. That told them. I am Olive Brewster. Strong, capable woman and they can eat theirwords.
Alex and Donna blink at my little speech, shake their heads sadly and leavetheroom.
Oh.
‘You’re not going to help me pack?’ I yell. ‘Guys?GUYS?’
I hear them tread softly down thestairs.
‘Guys, come on,’ I call out again.’ Helpmeeeeee!’
They’ve gone. They’re seriously not onmyside?
‘Alex?’ I shout. ‘Comeback,dude!’
Noanswer.
Fine.Fine.
Looks like I’m doing thisalone.
Totally, completelyalone…
I am an adult woman and Icando thisalone.
Can’tI?
OceanofPDF.com
ChapterSix
Olive’s phonereminders:
Passport, money,tickets!
Remember: Air travel is the SAFEST mode oftransport
Listen to ‘Still Minds’ app in taxi toairport
Don’t freak the fuck out, you massiveworrywart
Arriving at Manchester airport,I poke my head between the two front seats to pay the driver. As I hand him the money, I notice that my dumb hand is trembling. It’s 4 a.m. and I have spent the entire night getting all of my earthly belongings into my suitcase, plus a smaller suitcase I borrowed from Donna (who informed me that I should be careful with it as it scuffs ‘super-duper easily’ and she’s already doing me a huge favour lending it to me). I’m operating on zerosleep.
The taxi driver accompanies me to the boot of the car and heaves out my suitcases, his face turning fuchsia with theeffort.
‘Great! Thanks!’ I place a firm hand on each suitcase handle and start to yank them to the airport doors. They’re so ridiculously heavy that my rate of movement is around 0.001 miles per hour. As I’m dragging them, I’m making a sort of guttural animal noise, like a contender on The World’s Strongest Man contest pulling alorry.
The cab driver pops his head out of the car window and laughs at me. ‘You want atrolley,love!’
‘Sorry?’ I say. Atrolley?
He points over to a big line of upright metal contraptions on wheels. I notice that everyone else in the vicinity is using these trolleys to push around theirluggage.
‘Ah! Yes, of course!’Isay.
