28
Homeward Bound
Jo didn’t get the chance to wait a couple of hours though. Shortly after she returned to her room, she got a call from Ewan to say that he’d had to change his flight and would be leaving earlier than planned. He didn’t explain why, he just told her that he needed her to be ready to check out by eleven.
Nor did he offer any further explanation when she met him at the reception of the hotel for the journey home. Ewan didn’t look much better than he had done at breakfast. In fact, Jo was quite sure he looked worse than before. His pallor was grey, his eyes rimmed red and tension emanated from every pore.
‘Do you want me to drive?’ she asked as they walked to the car. ‘You don’t look so great.’
He shook his head. ‘No. Honestly. I’ll be fine when I’m behind the wheel.’
She nodded, but couldn’t help but feel increasingly nervous when she saw just how much effort hefting their bags into the boot of the car seemed to take out of him. He was moving as if he was stuck in treacle. Slow, laboured movements. Big sighs.
‘Ewan… I really think…’ she started.
‘I’m fine, Jo,’ he snapped. ‘I can drive. Besides, you’re not insured to drive this car anyway.’
That was true, she thought, but that didn’t make her feel any better about his fitness to drive safely. Maybe she should offer to pay for a taxi, or see if she could get Noah to come and pick them up. Surely they’d be able to make some arrangement with the car-hire company regarding the collection of the car.
Just as she was about to open her mouth to speak, Ewan climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door with such force that the car shook. Jo climbed into the passenger seat, gingerly closed her door and turned towards him.
‘Do you have to get your flight early? I could get Noah to come and pick us up…’ To her shame, she realised her voice was a little shaky. There was something about Ewan’s manner which unnerved her. The intensity that had bubbled under the surface for the last few days was now threatening to boil over, but this time it wasn’t a sexual tension. It was something darker.
Ewan turned the key in the ignition and slammed the car into first gear. ‘I am honestly fine to drive,’ he said. ‘And I do have to catch my flight. I have a meeting with my editor and Graham, as it happens, in London tomorrow to discuss my new book.’
His voice was flat, any enthusiasm he had for the story he had been so excited about at breakfast was gone.
Jo took a deep breath and decided that she should maybe try and lighten the mood just a little. ‘Okay. Cool,’ she said. ‘That must be very exciting for you, especially since you’ve been writing so much and you have all these new ideas. Tell me, what’s Graham really like? Is he very intimidating? He seemed lovely in his email, but…’
‘Jo,’ Ewan interrupted, ‘I’m fine to drive, but I have a sore head and I really need to concentrate. Especially on these unfamiliar roads, so would you mind if we just didn’t talk for a bit?’
Chastened, Jo faced forward again and looked at the road ahead while confusion danced around her head. Yes, he was feeling unwell. Yes, he was the colour of ‘boiled blooter’, as her granny used to say. (Jo didn’t really know what blooter was, or how you boiled it, but it was fair to say it wasn’t something pleasant, and implied a grey, almost dead appearance.) Yes, he might even be tired, but he was being so sharp with her she couldn’t help but feel she must’ve done something wrong.
Was he angry that she hadn’t run down the corridor after him the previous night and returned his kiss and maybe a bit more? Had he expected a quick kiss in the dining room before breakfast? He’d been in good form when she walked in, she remembered. They’d bantered a bit until she’d told him about Graham. That’s when everything had changed. She could see it in her mind’s eye now – how the colour had drained from his face at her news.
Surely that couldn’t be it? Why on earth would he be upset at his agent offering to represent her too? It made no sense.
Jo shifted in her seat, afraid to speak in case he told her to be quiet again.
Ewan didn’t speak though. Not for the entire drive back, except for when he stopped at a garage and bought them both coffees which she thought might have been a good sign. Maybe he felt better and was up for chatting more. But when she tried to engage him in any conversation, his answers were brusque and came in the form of one- or two-word replies.
She was almost relieved when they drove into Derry. By that stage, the whole sorry episode had started to upset her and she was afraid she might burst into tears. She couldn’t wait to see her mum, and Clara. She couldn’t wait to hug them. They had both cheered down the phone when she had called them earlier to tell them the news about the email. While she suspected Clara didn’t really understand what she was cheering for, it was just so lovely to hear her so excited. When she saw them in person, they would make her feel better, she was sure of it.
The closer they got to home, the more eager Jo was to be out of the car and away from the frosty atmosphere that now existed between her and Ewan. Relief flooded her when she saw the street sign which heralded she was just a few houses away from home.
‘This is me,’ she said, as Ewan pulled over. ‘If you want to come in, for a cup of tea or a coffee or whatever, you’re more than welcome,’ she told him while at the same time she prayed with all her might that he wouldn’t say yes. The roller-coaster ride of their weekend together had now hit another low point and despite the laughter and fun of the day before he now felt even less familiar to her than a stranger.
‘I really do have to get going to get to the airport on time. I’ve to return this car and, you know, that all takes time.’
She nodded, not convinced he was telling the truth.
‘Well, thank you for everything,’ she said. ‘I learned a lot and I really appreciate your generosity. Maybe we’ll bump into each other again. Especially if we have the same agent.’
‘Maybe,’ he said. He had manners enough to get out of the car and help Jo take her bag from the boot, but as soon as her case was dumped on the footpath he muttered a cursory goodbye and ‘Good luck with Graham’ before he was back in the driver’s seat and the car was moving at speed away from her house.
Jo lifted her case and when she turned around, she saw her front door open. She could see her mum, Auntie Mags, Clara and Noah, all grinning at her as Cliff Richard belted out ‘Congratulations’ from someone’s phone. Her mood immediately lifted, and the excitement she had felt first thing started to return.
A huge roar of ‘Woooohoooo!’ rang out, and Clara practically hurled herself out of the door and into Jo’s arms. ‘Mammy says to say well done on writing a good story!’ Clara said earnestly and Jo revelled in pulling her tight and smelling her gorgeous apple-shampoo-scented hair.
‘I’m so very, very proud!’ her mum called, which prompted a chorus of ‘We knew it!’ ‘Delighted for you!’ ‘Right, who wants a glass of fizz?’ from the assembled masses.
To her utter joy, Jo found herself swept into the bosom of her beloved family, and the whole picture was complete when Paddy nonchalantly padded into the living room and jumped up to say hello, before curling at her feet in a contented lump.