Page 4 of It Happened on Christmas Eve
‘I’ll get your luggage, Adam! It’s the red suitcase with the black straps, yes?’
‘No, I can get it!’ another argues. ‘It would be my pleasure!’
Adam doesn’t seem to be in the least embarrassed by all the fussing – in fact he seems to like it.
I head over to him with a sigh.
‘Adam Westbury?’
He looks me up and down, giving me a big open grin as if he’s known me all of his life. ‘Hello there!’
‘I’m Phoebe, Marcy’s PA,’ I say efficiently, holding out my hand for him to shake. ‘Unfortunately your mother had to—’
‘—Ah yes, Phoebe!’ Adam interrupts, his smile becoming even wider. ‘We met briefly last year.’
‘We did? I don’t remember.’
‘No, I don’t expect you do.’
What the hell does that mean?
He takes my hand with both of his and pumps it up and down so strongly that it sort of makes my whole body wobble. His eyes sparkle as if he’s genuinely excited to see me. Is this a trick? He’s at a loud, cram-packed airport with a broken leg…
I throw a look to one of the cabin crew – a gorgeous skinny lad with an angelic blond curtain cut. He simply gazes down at Adam’s conker brown curls with delight. He gives me a grin as if to sayisn’t he something?
‘God, my mum adores you,’ Adam continues. ‘She adores everyone, of course, but particularly you! Where is she?’
It takes me a moment to form words, I’m a bit, well, thrown off by this guy’s energy. Is he high on pain medication? Delirious from jet lag? What’s his deal? Nobody can be this cheerful after a seven hour flight. It’s not decent.
‘Er… Jemima Crossley Jones, the er, the actress, had a design emergency at the Oxo Tower and your mum went to help her out. I’ve come to pick you up and take you home.’
‘What an exciting change of plan!’ Adam grins. I blink, completely confused. Is he being sarcastic? He doesn’t appear to be.
‘Um, okay. Well, the parking ticket is running out so we should get a move on,’ I mutter, heading around to the back of his wheelchair and taking the handles.
The blonde boy crew member lays Adam’s crutches across his uninjured knee lovingly. Another appears with his suitcase.
‘You guys have been epic,’ Adam beams at the crew members, as one leans down to snap a quick selfie with him. ‘Hey, Gemma, remember – you must watch that film I was telling you about. It’s just your cup of tea.’ He points at the blonde lad with the curtain cut. ‘@JohnInFlighton Twitter, yes? I’ll follow you as soon as I get home.’
The crew cluck around him, waving goodbye as I wheel him off towards through the airport towards the car park. One of them wipes a tear from her eye as if she’s saying goodbye to her best friend in the whole world.
Who is this guy and what the hell did he do on that aeroplane?
* * *
‘Mum let you use her Jaguar?’ Adam says in disbelief when we reach the car.
‘Of course,’ I say breezily as if this is a normal occurrence and Marcy didn’t use it as a bribe to make me come and pick him up when I’d much rather be at home on my own.
‘She really does trust you,’ he laughs. ‘She’s never let me drive it and I’m her flesh and blood.’
I glance down at the broken leg that is entirely the result of his own daft behaviour. I wouldn’t trust him to drive my car either. And my car is worth about fifty pounds. And that’s because it’s got a sat nav in it that cost me fifty pounds.
I shove Adam’s luggage and crutches into the boot and then wait for him to get out of the wheelchair and hop into the passenger seat, but he doesn’t move.
After an awkward moment of silence he coughs. ‘I need your help.’
‘Oh, of course!’ I say, flustered. ‘Sorry.’ I lean down and he slings his arm around my shoulder, using it to support himself as he rises from the wheelchair. I don’t like being in close proximity to people at the best of times, never mind a complete stranger.
