Clare

I opened the letter for the tenth time today.

Having abandoned the guy with his destroyed fag in my wake, I sat in coach re-reading the letter that had arrived two days before I left the States.

***************

Dear Miss Elliot,

Clare,

Congratulations and apologies for not writing sooner.

I have been informed by the disc sales office that you had not received the-

RIAA Gold Disc - 50000 sales for:

Song-writing for California Dreamin' Single Disc Catalogue Number 3AE-3457.
Song-writing for Monday, Monday Single Disc Catalogue Number 45-D-4026 / D-4026

Please be assured we are as upset as you in this oversight.

I have immediately commissioned the disc's and official congratulation letter's. They will be dispatched as soon as possible and forwarded to your address.

Once again, Congratulations

Richard Peterberg

President- Recording Industry Association of America

***************

I chose coach as one- it was cheaper and two- it couldn't be any worse than business class, I've learnt my lesson.

Although I probably won't be able tackle the drinks cart the same but I don't need any more booze, I need to drive from Glasgow for hours to the shack that Cass found me.

She said it was my Nirvana, a home away from home, an escape from the troubles of my existence. Far fetched and totally inconceivable- I can't escape the hurt in my head, the pain, the mental scars that he caused, not Cap guy, although he was a right pain too-

'Good Morning Ladies and Gentlemen we will be landing in Glasgow in approximately 5 minutes. Thank-you for flying with us today. The temperature is 22 degrees Celsius and the sky is currently covered in patchy cloud'

Second leg complete I wish I was there now, not getting ready to navigate the narrow lanes and road map of Scotland.

As the stairs were pressed against the tin side of the plane I felt a lift in spirits.

Perhaps this would be good for my soul, clear my head, get some creative juices flowing. Which reminds me, I need to check at the post office to see if the letter from Jeff has beaten me.

"Son of a bitch" I grumbled before I could retract my tongue, the lady beside me tutted at my cuss;

Really.

Him....

Out of all of England, Wales, Ireland and Scotland he is stepping on the tarmac, the same tarmac I will put my foot on in three, two, one-

I am not giving him a smoke.

I lagged behind slower, at a steady snail's pace, letting all the business people and families move towards the terminal. The clouds are clotting again, closing in on themselves and me, surely I don't have to put up with him and these meetings in airports the whole trip do I?

Just as I was about to step foot into the terminal a yellow Volkswagen drove away from a shed; the hire car office, with only two cars in the parking lot.

Shit, time to pick up the pace I suppose, but I don't want to, the guy is glancing around and soon enough will have me in his sights again, glaring, staring me down through those eyes that seem so ancient; like he has seen it all.

"Guitar Girl are you stalking me?!" Cappy worked his way back through the small crowd as I looked for the doorway out to the hire business, spotting it I fled before some other sod got a car before me.