Chapter 13

"Are you sure you'll remember?" Kelly asked, tears still fresh on her face, as she threw things into her rucksack.

"Of course," replied Inga, her Dutch roommate, patting the envelope on the bedside table.

"I'm sure he'll come in tonight. If I could just stay a touch longer and see him myself!" She stood in the middle of their dormitory, hands bunched in hair, looking around distractedly at the rest of her possessions.

"You must go. Your family, they need you," said Inga soothingly. "You are doing the right thing, Kelly."

"I know, I know," sighed Kelly. "I wish they weren't so far away. I'm dead scared by the time I get there, it'll be too late."

"You musn't think like that," said Inga, helping her fold the last of her clothes.

"No. You're right," agreed Kelly, buckling her rucksack shut. "I was lucky to get a flight out so soon. I'll be home in no time." She took a deep breath and surveyed the room one last time, eyes landing again on the envelope. "You will promise to give it to him, Inga, won't you?"

Inga picked up Kelly's satchel. "I will promise. Now, come on downstairs. You have a taxi waiting."

The two girls made their way down to the street below where they said their tearful goodbyes.

As the taxi pulled away, Kenny arrived at the hotel, full of good cheer.

"Hello. Can I talk to Kelly please?" he asked the young Scottish guy behind the bar, unable to keep the enormous smile from his face.

"Ye could, if she were here," replied the Scot. "She's left."

"Left?"

"Aye," said the barman. "Back to Ireland. Her mam's sick."

"She's left?" repeated Kenny, the grin rapidly fading along with the colour in his face. "Where is she?"

"At the airport, I'd say, by now," replied the barman. "You only missed her by a second."

Kenny sat stunned for a second, thanked the barman politely out of habit and wandered outside. Inga was still on the footpath, finishing a cigarette.

"She's left," said Kenny, dully.

"Pardon?" asked Inga.

"Kelly. I lost her. I found her. I lost her again. Why do I never even get to say goodbye to her?" By this stage, Kenny was talking to himself as much as Inga, whose eyes had widened as she hastily stamped out her cigarette.

"You're Kenny!" she exclaimed. Kenny nodded vaguely.

"She left – she left you . . ." Inga's English failed her as she tried to explain to Kenny.

"I know she did. They always leave me," replied Kenny, mournfully.

"No! No! You wait right here, please!" Inga dashed inside and soon returned with the envelope marked with Kenny's name. "Here! For you! From her!"

Animation returned to Kenny's features as he tore open the envelope and read the hastily scratched note inside.

Dear Kenny

My mam's sick and I've managed to get a flight home to Dublin today. I'm so sorry not to see you to say goodbye but I know we'll meet again.

My email address is Please write.

Kelly

Kenny reread the note several times before folding it decisively into his pocket.

"What airline is she flying?" he asked Inga.

"Err, British Airways," she replied.

"Right. Thanks very much," said Kenny briskly, grabbed her and kissed her before stepping to the curb and thrusting his hand up in the air. "Taxi!"

The taxi pulled alongside and Kenny got in the front seat.

"Airport. International terminal," he said crisply. "And hurry . . . please."

"Righto!" said the driver, pulling a fast u-turn and heading towards the airport. "So, is it a girl?"

"How did you know?" asked an astounded Kenny.

"Mate, I've been a taxi driver for 25 years. I know the look," replied the driver, swerving through traffic. "I'm a sucker for romance. Let me guess, she's getting on a plane, possibly leaving forever and you've got to tell her how you feel before she leaves?"

"Something like that," grinned Kenny, as they left the city.

"What airline?" asked the driver.

"British Airways," replied Kenny. The driver fumbled his mobile phone out of his shirt pocket and handed it to Kenny.

"Here. Call 'em. Find out the flight number and departure gate. Then you'll know exactly where to go when you get there. Look out, ya mongrel!" He swerved violently and gestured rudely to the offending vehicle.

Too stunned to argue, Kenny was soon on the phone to British Airways where a lovely modulated voice gave him the information he required. Kenny thanked her and was about to hang up when another voice inside him suddenly spoke out.

"Are there any seats left on the flight?" asked the voice. The woman told him there were.

"Can I book one please and pick it up at the gate?" The woman told him also that would be fine, if she could have his credit card details. Fishing his wallet from his pocket, Kenny supplied them. The driver, listening in, was grinning ear to ear as he continued his assault on Adelaide's west-bound traffic.

"That's all fine, sir," said the woman.

"One more thing," said the voice from inside Kenny. "I'd like to sit next to my friend, Kelly Moloney. Would that be possible?"

"Certainly, sir," came the reply. "That's all booked in. Enjoy your flight."

"I'm sure I will," replied Kenny and hung up.

"Here we are, sir!" said the driver, pulling up to the airport terminal.

"Thanks very much," said Kenny, handing him back his phone. "For everything."

"My pleasure!" replied the driver. "And don't you dare think of paying me for the ride either. I'll be telling this story to the other drivers at the rank, I can give you the tip!"

"How about you let me give you the tip?" Kenny asked, and before the driver could protest, he had slipped a $50 note into his hand and ran into the terminal. The driver watched him go, smiled and shook his head, then pulled sharply out of the loading area with a squeal of tyres. Another job came up on his screen but he ignored it. With a $50 tip, he could shout the other cabbies in the rank a cup of coffee to enjoy while he told them his latest story.

The flight was soon boarding and Kelly made her way onto the plane, inching her way down the aisle behind a large woman with an equally large carry-on bag. Finally, she reached her row and stowed her bag in the overhead compartment before sliding over to the window seat. The view outside blurred as tears sprang to her eyes.

"Are you all right?" asked a concerned English voice.

"I'm fine," replied Kelly, turning to give a watery smile to her seatmate.

"I'm glad," replied Kenny, handing her a tissue.