FLY WITH ME
This is Tiffany’s story, who receives a call from the police one morning forcing her to deal with a chapter from her past, which she is unhappy to revisit. When she calls her friend Dylan, it’s Mat from New Zealand she ends up talking to.
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Mat took a sip of the coffee and was impressed by the flavour considering it cost him only a few bucks.
“Mate, you’re pissing me off here. Will you focus on this conversation?”
“When did you get so touchy?”
There was a sharp intake of breath and an exhale on the other end of the line. “Tiff had a rough twelve months and a shitty morning. I’m simply running a blank putting two and two together trying to fit you into all this.”
Mat froze mid-stride. Damn! He’d assumed something was wrong, but now he was curious about the history of it all. “What happened?”
“What the hell did you talk to her about, Matiu?” His friend’s voice was now loud and his tone impatient.
He leaned against the car with one hand in his pocket and watched the heavy traffic. Recalling his conversation with Tiffany earlier that day. “Well,” he began. “I answered your phone, so she hung up, but rang again. I told her you’re not home, and she asked me to leave a message and hung up. I returned the call and we had a bit of a chit chat.”
There was a pause before Dylan finally asked, “And which part made you think she was desperate to talk to me?”
“She kept calling. And my gut feeling. Instinct. Call it what you want.”
“That makes you worry about her?”
He thought about it for a moment. “And there was a panic in her voice. Gut feeling, mate, that’s all. Just glad you were able to help her. You’ll have to tell me more about your girl tonight. I’ve got to go,” Mat finally said.
“She’s not my girl,” Dylan replied through gritted teeth. “And good luck with your meeting.”
Mat disconnected the call, placed the cup of coffee on the top of the car, and then tried to re-program the direction to his meeting place in his phone. How he missed Queenstown at that moment. With probably only a tenth of Melbourne’s population, navigation was easy, only hampered sometimes by tourists who drove on the wrong side of the road or who were simply lost.
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