Just Like You Said It Would Be Page 19

  Screenwriting class dragged the next morning, the hours feeling endless. Having bought more phone minutes on my way to the IFI, I left my phone on vibrate during class and kept pulling it out and willing it to come to life. There was a two o’clock showing of Lost in Translation, one of my all-time favourite movies, playing at one of the IFI theatres afterwards. Gianni and Clare invited me along to watch it and I said yes, knowing if I went home I only would’ve sat around staring at my phone.

  Inside the cinema, I couldn’t resist its lure and excused myself twice to check for messages. But nothing had changed and when we got to the end of the movie, I watched Bill Murray hold Scarlett Johansson and whisper conspiratorially yet tenderly in her ear. The scene’s audio has been digitally enhanced on the internet by people trying to guess what he said to her, but still no one really knows for sure. And for the first time I didn’t wonder, I didn’t care.

  Chapter 15

  Wait for me.

  I sent a flurry of emails and texts to Jocelyn and was in touch with Kérane and Yanna multiple times. They were both in close contact with Joss’s parents and said the police had gone to Jocelyn’s house to take a report. There didn’t seem to be any leads and Joss’s little sister had helped her parents paper the neighbourhood with flyers.

  According to Ker, Anthony had been out in his mom’s car several times, searching for Jocelyn. He was bombarding her with messages, just like we were. And like all of us, he wasn’t sleeping well.

  By Wednesday night I was exhausted, and unable to write a word of my screenplay. I called my parents for the second day in a row and told my dad, “I can’t stay here and do nothing. I think I should go back to Toronto. If I was home, I could help them look for her.”

  “Where would you look that others haven’t?” he asked, being logical about it. “I know it’s difficult, but Jocelyn’s parents and the police are already doing everything that can be done.”

  “But this is day four, Dad. I can’t keep going on with life like normal when I know she’s out there somewhere. At home at least I’d be closer to everyone. And I could send a message to Jocelyn saying I was coming back. Maybe that would make it feel easier for her to go home too.” I thought of how badly she’d wanted me to stay in Toronto that summer. She might not have run away if I’d been there. The disconnect between us wouldn’t have been exacerbated by distance.

  “Amira, I understand that you want to help. But you can continue to try and be in touch with her from there. You’re better off with your aunt and uncle while this is going on. You’re upset enough already.”

  “I could stay with Yanna or Kérane,” I continued. “Their parents wouldn’t object, especially at a time like this.”

  “Hey, this isn’t something we’re going to negotiate.” Dad’s voice was like steel wrapped in cotton wool. “There’s nothing you could do at home. Everyone’s in waiting mode.”

  My first instinct was to argue with my father, but I’d never win. Fighting my parents hadn’t convinced them to let me spend the summer in Toronto and it wouldn’t persuade them to let me go back either. If I wanted to return home, I’d have to make it happen myself.

  So I waited another day and hoped that would be the one that made the difference. But by Thursday night I’d had no reply to the messages I’d continued to send Jocelyn, and no clues to her whereabouts had emerged either. Every time a text came in it was from Yanna or Kérane, as anxious and in the dark as I was. Late Thursday there was even a text from Darragh that said:

  Zoey told me your friend’s gone missing. Has there been any news?

  I shot a one word text back:

  Nothing.

  It’d been a week and a half since we’d curled up together on his bed and Darragh felt totally outside Joss’s situation. I wasn’t angry with him; I just didn’t have any room for him in my head. But he replied to me within seconds:

  Are you ok?

  I typed back just to get rid of him:

  Hanging in there. But I have to go now.

  His latest text blinked onto my phone:

  Ring me if you want to talk. Anytime.

  It was funny, I’d made such a big deal of us getting to know each other but now that Darragh was trying I just couldn’t put my heart into it.

  Before bed I Skyped with Yanna and Ker. Then I slept badly, and when I woke up on Friday morning I’d made up my mind. No more waiting, I was going home. I packed my laptop, a single pair of pyjamas and a change of clothes into my carry-on bag along with my passport. If I was lucky my age wouldn’t get in the way and my emergency credit card would score me a one-way ticket home.

  I was bent on trying, and I didn’t intend to tell a soul until I was safely on the other side of the Atlantic. I stayed in my bedroom until I was sure my aunt and uncle had left for work, but by then Zoey was up and getting ready for a shift at the restaurant. A friend of a friend had hooked the band up with a gig in Galway and they were leaving early tomorrow, which meant today’s shift would be her last one this week.

  Zoey had seen firsthand how quiet and distracted I’d been since Joss had gone missing and while we were both rummaging around in the kitchen she turned to look at me. “I know things have been hard since your friend went missing,” she said, “but if I ask you to come out to dinner with a few of us tonight, will you consider it? There’s a new Thai place on Baggot Street that’s meant to be really good and we wanted to check it out before leaving.”

  I hesitated, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth.

  “I don’t need to know this second,” Zoey said. “Think about it.”

  I parted my lips to thank her, but I couldn’t quite manage it. Taking off without acknowledging it to Zoey felt worse than doing the same to my aunt and uncle. And what if I made it home but didn’t make it back to Dublin again? I didn’t know what to expect of my parents when they learned what I’d done. Would they ask someone to put me on a plane back to Ireland ASAP or cut their cruise short and fly home to deal with me?

  “I’m going to the airport,” I confessed. “And if I can get someone to sell me a ticket, I’ll be on a plane to Canada later today. I can’t sit around and wait anymore. I’m going to try to help find Jocelyn, or whatever else I can do from there.”

  Zoey whistled low, her eyes wide. “You’re leaving today?”

  I nodded slowly. “Against my parents’ wishes.”

  Zoey blinked, the thick black kohl spread along her upper lid making her eyes vanish for a second. “If it’s what you think you have to do I’m not going to try to change your mind. But I hope you’ll be back when your friend comes home. Your trip shouldn’t end like this.” She squeezed me quickly in her arms, the sensation making my decision feel solid and real.

  “I hope I’ll be back too. I wish I didn’t have to run out this way.”

  Zoey shook her head. “It’s not running out. You’re doing what you think you need to do.”

  She offered to come to the airport with me, but I didn’t want to make her late for work or get her into trouble with her parents. I told Zoey she could help me in another way and over breakfast she helped coach me on what I should say to the airline customer service rep if they gave me trouble because of my age. Before catching the bus to the airport I sent Joss a final text and email:

  On my way to the airport to buy a ticket to Toronto in the hope that it will convince you to come home. If it works I’ll be there sometime tomorrow and then we’ll both have made ourselves runaways. Please come back, wherever you are. I’ve said it so many times but I need to know you’re ok.

  Being late morning, the bus was fairly empty, only a handful of other people with luggage were sharing my journey. As we passed the Omni Shopping Centre my phone rang in my bag. Fishing for it, I hoped it was Jocelyn at last. Instead Darragh’s name lit up my screen and I held the phone away from me, debating whether to answer it.

  Was there any point in talking to him when I was hours away from leaving? My grip on the phone loosened, prepar
ing to drop it back into my bag. Only my fingers never let go. When I least expected it a shadow of last week’s feelings edged into my heart sideways. I thought of Darragh’s smile, our ravenous first kiss in Temple Bar, and how his voice had ached when he’d said, “We don’t know that we can’t still have everything.”

  I clicked to accept the call, cursing my lack of self-control. “Hi, Darragh.”

  “Amira, is there any chance I can see you tonight? We could have coffee or whatever you’re in the mood for.” He sounded more Irish over the phone and I grabbed myself around the middle and stared out the window. The sky was overcast, but every patch of grass was as bright a green as the day I’d arrived.

  “Did Zoey tell you?” He’d taken over a week to text me in the first place. It seemed unlikely that he’d call the very next day and want to see me unless my cousin had let him know I was leaving.

  “Tell me what?” he asked.

  Shit. I should’ve known better. Zoey wouldn’t do that to me when she knew I was focused on getting home. “I’m leaving,” I admitted. “I’m on a bus to the airport.” I told him my parents had forbid it, but that considering the circumstances I couldn’t stay away from Toronto.

  Darragh’s reply was slow and quiet. “Will you be coming back?”

  “I want to, but I don’t know what will happen,” I confessed.

  “So this could be it?” Darragh said. “And you weren’t going to tell me?”

  A dull headache was breaking out at my temples. I slumped in my seat and murmured, “I didn’t tell anybody except Zoey. I didn’t want anyone to let it slip or try to stop me.”

  “I wouldn’t have tried to stop you, but you could’ve said.”

  “I only made up my mind for sure this morning.” The driver was whistling from the front of the bus and anyone within earshot could hear him, which probably meant they could hear me too. I wished Darragh and I were having this conversation someplace private. “I’m sorry. I thought we’d have more time.” Joss had been overshadowing everything else for days, but when it came down to it Darragh still mattered. My feelings for him were thawing as the bus sped in the direction of the airport.

  “Listen.” Darragh paused. “I’m doing some work on a house in Swords, about fifteen minutes up the way from the airport, and I reckon I could slip away for bit and meet you there to see you off. If you want me to.”

  “I want you to,” I confirmed. If he’d let me, I’d kiss him goodbye too. On that morning I didn’t care about Ursula. I might never see him again. “Thanks.”

  “I’ll see you there. Wait for me.”

  My aunt and uncle lived pretty close to the airport and short minutes later the bus pulled into the airport transit hub. With my bag looped over my shoulder I trekked into the departures hall and scanned the crowd for Darragh. He must not have arrived yet and I stood in front of one of the information screens, browsing for departing flights to Toronto and not finding any.

  I approached a line for one of the British airlines, remembering something Zoey had told me earlier—that since I was underage it might be less trouble to buy a flight to another European destination than across the pond. Once I got out of Ireland I could book a second ticket to Toronto. My cousin was on to something there; the agent sold me a ticket to London Heathrow without issue and I paid in cash, hoping that would avoid any kind of alert that my parents could’ve attached to my credit card spending, and give me time to make it to Toronto. “You’ll have to hurry,” the agent instructed. “The gate’s closing in ten minutes.”

  As I scurried past haggard looking travellers, my mind was on Darragh. Our potential slipped further away with every step. We would never be together. Never be friends the way I’d wanted either. I wouldn’t even be able to keep my promise to wait for him. There’d be no goodbye.

  The security area was just ahead of me and I dug my phone out of my bag and keyed in:

  I’m really sorry. I wanted to wait but had to catch a flight. Sorry everything was so messed up all along too. I liked you alot. I know you know that. You already had an impact.

  A minute later I was throwing my knapsack onto an X-ray machine conveyor belt, and then heading for my gate. I was the very last person to step onto the plane. A male flight attendant closed the door snugly behind me. Leaving everything unfinished in Dublin didn’t feel remotely right, but staying while Jocelyn was missing would’ve been worse. I comforted myself with that thought as we jetted over the Irish Sea. Between the brief flight time and the stress I was under it shouldn’t have been possible for me to nod off, but it’d been days since I’d slept properly…

  Her slim fingers grasped mine as they hung from the end of the armrest. I blinked at her through weary eyes, my sister’s own eyes so like my father’s in shape but graced with my mother’s dark colouring. Is this what Rana would have looked like had she lived? So poised and fine-boned, intelligence and empathy lending her face a depth that lifted her from pretty to beautiful.

  My parents had always told me that Rana was crazy about me. She begged my parents to let her choose my outfits and ceaselessly pleaded with them to let her help them with me. Mom and Dad said she would skip around in front of me so that my eyes would follow her as she made a sing-song of my name. On her toddler lips it was Me-ah or just Ah. I’ve seen her say it that way on family videos. In the best one of the two of us I’m lying on the couch on a lumpy baby pillow and she’s sitting beside me and patting my bald baby head, staring gleefully into my eyes, softly crooning, “Bay-Bee Me-ah.”

  To tell the truth, I don’t know how my parents stood it. Losing her. It’s a good thing I don’t remember how haunted and empty their eyes must have been after she’d died. The way they must have stopped smiling and believing life would be good to them. In the present all I knew is that I could never be enough to make up for my sister.

  She squeezed my hand fiercely as the thought tripped through my mind, and I didn’t have to guess what she was trying to say. I didn’t have to make up for her. No one can ever fill the space someone else leaves. We just go on and live our lives.

  I squeezed Rana’s fingers back. Wish you were here, I thought. But at the same time, I knew that she’d always be with me, even if it made my parents uncomfortable. It was others that I had to worry about losing—Jocelyn and Darragh, pulling me in opposite directions, one who was temporarily lost from me and the other who I’d never really had.

  The in-flight director’s voice woke me with a start. He was announcing the final descent and I stared down at England, the properties beneath the plane looking like doll houses and tiny architectural models. The landscape wasn’t as green as Ireland but could never have been mistaken for Toronto either. The familiarity of the view surprised me. It’d been years since I was in England to visit Teta and Gedo.

  With only my knapsack accompanying me, de-boarding should’ve been simple, but as I stepped from the plane onto tarmac a white guy in a blue suit bustled by me, sideswiping me and nearly toppling me over. He didn’t so much as apologize, glaring back at me like I was the problem. “Excuse YOU!” I shouted after him.

  A woman laughed from behind me. “He deserved worse,” she said, the two of us swapping smiles. It was only as I stepped inside Heathrow airport that I realized my phone was ringing; with all the noise on the tarmac I couldn’t hear it outside. By the time I had my cell in my hand it’d gone quiet and the screen read: 1 call from unknown number.

  Keeping up with the flow of pedestrian traffic, I hurried down the hallway to a security checkpoint where a British customs officer wanted to know where I was heading. Her clipped syllables and officious stare automatically made me feel like I was in the wrong, but when I explained I wanted to buy an onward ticket home to Toronto she let me through. I was approaching a sort of arrivals hub populated with a foreign currency exchange kiosk and desks for various airlines when my phone rang a second time.

  “Hello,” I answered quickly, half-expecting Darragh, angry for being stood up at Dublin
airport.

  “It’s me,” Jocelyn murmured, her tone meek in a way I’d seldom heard. “Please tell me I caught you in time and that you’re still in Dublin.”

  My throat tightened, a weight lifting from my shoulders and warmth flooding my veins. She was all right, not lying in a ditch somewhere. “I’m in London. At Heathrow airport, trying to work my way back to Toronto.” My voice frayed. “Where are you?”

  “London? Shit.”

  “Never mind about that. Where are you?” I repeated.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that,” she said haltingly. “But I’m okay.”

  “You had me so scared.” People went missing and never came home again. I’d never let myself linger on the idea, but it’d been chipping away at me for days.

  “I know. I’m sorry—I just didn’t want to drag you into this.” She sounded so emotional that I had to swallow silently into the phone.

  “I’m already in this. And I know I’ve told you this so many times now, but I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Ajay before. I know I should’ve; you’re right. At first I guess I didn’t think it meant that much and after the accident, I didn’t know how. I didn’t want you to be mad.” My throat broke into shards. “I didn’t want to lose you.” I’d been scared of upsetting her for months, but it wasn’t until I’d said it out loud that I fully understood the depth of my fear. On earth Jocelyn was the closest thing I had to a sister.

  If my parents hadn’t been separated at the time, or if Rana’s absence hadn’t left a hole in me, it might been easier to come clean with Jocelyn. But ultimately, my reasons didn’t matter, they felt like excuses.