Free Dark Mirrors by Siobhain Bunni Page A

him that the kids and I have moved out,” she explained coolly.
    “You mean he doesn’t know?”
    “No.”
    “You’ve got to be joking!” Lizzie was shocked.
    “Fucksake, Esmée! Have you completely lost it?” Penny demanded.
    Annoyed by her sisters’ outburst, she turned to them. “Maybe I have, I’m not sure. But don’t give me that condescending tone – at least wait until you know the full story!”
    “I’m sorry, Esmée, I’m just . . .” Lizzie paused, searching for the right word, “surprised, I suppose.”
    “Apology accepted. Just don’t rush to judge me, all right? Look, let me get this over with – I’ll come back and we’ll talk properly then.” She glanced up at the clock and picked her bag off the back of the chair. “His flight is due to land at seven.” She paused for dramatic effect. “So if I’m not back by ten, send out a search party.” She laughed at the unsmiling stony faces of her sisters, waiting in vain for the gag to sink in. “It was a joke,” she prompted dryly.
    “Ohhh!” they sang, nodding in unison, not even remotely amused.
    Leaving her stunned sisters alone in the kitchen, she snuck past the drowsy kids and left the house to embark on the next stage of her journey. It was just after half six. It took her exactly twenty minutes to get to the airport and another ten to find a parking space.
    As she drove round and around the car park she practised her opening lines. Fin was right – Philip would be surprised to see her. She never collected him – he always took a cab and he would ask her why she was there: to which she would reply that they needed to talk. ‘We need to talk.’ No doubt he’d say something dismissive like: ‘Not now’ or ‘Can’t it wait?’ And then he’d probably lay on a lame excuse like he was tired or something. But she would have the advantage because he couldn’t escape or walk out like he usually did. She would have him belted into the seat beside her and would tell him straight out that she and the children had left the house and therefore him. ‘We’ve left, Phil. The children and I have moved out.’
    It sounded reasonable enough on her own in the car as she drove the marked concrete course. She would take the long way home and that would probably give her thirty minutes with him, thirty-five tops, depending on traffic.
    She didn’t want to hang around, didn’t want to listen to his bullshit excuses and certainly didn’t want to go into the house.
    ‘Don’t go. Please, Esmée! Don’t leave me.’
    Then she would drop him and go. Simple as that! The less time she spent with him the less time he had to tell her she was mad, paranoid or useless.
    The final walk into arrivals enervated her confidence, making her suddenly very apprehensive. Her heart raced and her stomach churned. This was it and she was early. Walking over to the monitors suspended overhead, she checked the aircraft’s progress:
    EI268 Paris, Charles De Gaul expected 19:05
    She checked the on-screen clock in the corner: five to. She had plenty of time. Selecting a chair with a good vantage point she sat down and waited and as she waited she watched.
    They came out in groups, the travellers, and as they emerged through the glass doors most turned first left then right, uncertainly, seeking out friends or family, aware that all eyes were on them as they faltered in their tracks. Many eventually broke into relieved smiles as they recognised a familiar face. But her heart went out to those whose welcoming committee either hadn’t turned up or were just late. The anticipation of walking through those formidable doors was for nothing as they wandered crestfallen and sometimes angry to the seated area beyond the barrier. But it was those who marched through without stopping that she was most curious about: the voyagers who walked emphatically to the exit without hesitation. Where were they going? Home, perhaps? Business people, experienced travellers, just