Cooper; Lionel, a trainee chiropodist from Lancashire; Oompt, a German engineering student; and his friend Litty, who was doing a PhD on ground frost.
We sat around and chatted for a while, until Oompt mentioned that he had a Frisbee in his rucksack. Four of us then got up and started playing a huge game of long-distance indoor Frisbee, covering half the length of the building.
While we were playing, I noticed a strange albino-looking woman in an all-white sari step through the doors. When I saw the rucksack in her luggage trolley, I realized she wasn’t an albino, but was probably a Westerner with shameless taste in clothes. Then, when her head turned towards us, I froze and the Frisbee hit me in the face.
Oh my God! It was Liz. She may have been wearing Indian clothes, but it was definitely her. She still had the same effortfully serene walk.
I tossed the Frisbee to Oompt, retired from the game and watched her take a seat in the furthest corner of the departure hall. I wasn’t sure whether or not she had seen me. After a moment of indecision, I started walking towards her with my heart pumping fast. I tried to breathe slowly in order to help mask my anxiety, but this just got me out of breath and made me look even more anxious.
When I got close, I saw that not only was she in a white sari, she even had one of those red blobs on her forehead. What a twat!
‘Hi!’
‘Hi.’
She shot me a sneer, then looked away. I had felt briefly sympathetic towards her, seeing her turn up at the airport all on her own, but when I saw that scornful look, I was instantly reminded of how much I hated her.
I decided to be friendly, though, since I knew that was the best way to annoy her.
‘Isn’t this amazing?’
‘What?’
‘Us. Both here.’
‘We are booked on the same flight, you know. It’s not exactly what I’d call a huge surprise.’
‘Oh, yeah. I’d forgotten about that.’
She glared at me, and silence descended.
‘When you first walked in, I thought you were an albino.’
‘Very funny.’
‘Then I saw it was you, and I couldn’t believe it! Dressed in all this gear.’
‘I’ve simply adapted to the Indian climate and culture. That is the point of coming here, in case you hadn’t realized.’
‘Looks weird, though. You’re going to stand out a mile on the Piccadilly line.’
‘My parents are picking me up, actually.’
‘You going to stop wearing this stuff when you get home, then?’
‘What do you mean by home?’
‘Home. Your mum and dad’s house.’
‘I don’t consider that to be home any more. I’ve moved on.’
‘Where’s home, then?’
‘Wherever I want it to be.’
‘So you’re going to stick with the sari, then?’
She looked at me contemptuously.
‘I’ll probably adapt to England when I arrive, but for the time being I can’t actually remember what it’s like.’
‘Cold. Wet.’
‘Still a moaner, I see.’
‘That’s not a moan. I’m glad to be going back. I’ve had a laugh, but – you know – I’ve got to get on with my life.’
As those words came out of my mouth, I felt my head go dizzy. Suddenly, for the first time, it hit me that I really was about to go home. I was about to climb into a metal box that would take me back to England, and back to real life. In just over a fortnight, I’d be starting university. I’d have to work – read proper books – write things.
‘Get on with your life? That’s typical. You’re a typical Western careerist.’
‘Why – what are you planning to do? You’re not going to be able to keep up this hippie-bullshit act in England, you know. It’s back to the real world, now.’
‘I can’t believe that you’ve still gor the same attitude. You’ve spent three months here, and the whole experience just hasn’t made the slightest dent.’
‘Dent? Hasn’t made a dent? Believe me – I’ve been through a whole car crash here. I’m a completely different person.’
‘Yeah, right.’
‘I am.’
‘How?’
‘I’m just… you know, much more grown up. I
‘You were far too cocky in the first place, Dave. I don’t think increased confidence is exactly going to turn you into a better person.’
‘Cocky is different from confident. That’s exactly the point. Kids are cocky, adults are quietly confident.’
‘And you’re quietly confident now, are you?’
‘If you want to put it like that, yes.’
She creased up with laughter.
‘Fuck off, Liz. I don’t need this.’
‘You’re hilarious.’
‘Don’t patronize me, you pretentious bitch.’
‘Ooh! Is this you being quietly confident?’
She started laughing again.
‘Look – sort yourself out, here. If you’re going to act like this, I… I might just find myself telling James about you and your Intimate Yoga man.’
The laughter stopped.
‘Where did you hear that?’
‘From a certain little birdie I bumped into. And we got on rather well, as it happens.’
‘You bumped into…?’
‘I shan’t say more. But they told me exactly what happened.’
‘Look, Dave – don’t let’s forget that you spent the majority of the year trying to shag your best mate’s girlfriend, which doesn’t put you in much of a position to blackmail.’
‘Who said anything about blackmail? I just suggested that we try and make an effort to sustain some kind of civil relationship. Neither of us wants rumours circulating in England, do we?’
She gave me one of her spine-tinglingly evil looks.
‘With any luck, we’ll never see each other again,’ she said, lifting a book from her lap and starting to read.
I watched her reading for a few seconds until it became clear that, as usual, Liz had got the last word.
‘Let’s hope so,’ I muttered half-heartedly and loped off.
