Synthetic Maze

“Mummy! I need a wee!”

Abbey rolled her eyes and groaned, letting her head drop onto Andy’s shoulder. She allowed her eyelids to drop. Now only her ears would be abused by the horrific sounds of small children wailing. “I’m never having children. Ever. If I say anything different, I’m holding you responsible to slap me and knock some sense into me.” She mumbled, opening her eyes and poking Andy in the side.

The pair were standing in the departure lounge at Heathrow airport. Upon finding that her only daughter was heartbroken beyond belief, Verity had grabbed her husband’s laptop and booked them a last minute flight to Barcelona, staying in the hotel Luke worked at. A week away from the hustle and bustle of London seemed like heaven, but Kieron was still playing on Abbey’s mind. She had left all her things at his house. Visions of him changing the locks and giving all her precious designer heels to charity shops made her stomach churn. The only thought worse than that was the image of Marissa Clark parading around in them, showing off to her tarty friends and leaving her lacy underwear lying around. Abbey shuddered and looked around, taking a sip from the coffee cup in her hand.

Andy chuckled, marking the page in his heavy textbook, closing it and pushing it into his bag. “I’ll try and remember that, but you were mum’s only hope for grand kids.”

Abbey shook her head. “I think she could put that faith into you and Luke, because I am not going through that,” she nodded over to where a young couple were dealing with their tired and fussy toddlers. The man was chasing a screeching little girl, who had chocolate spread across her face and tiny hands. The woman was fighting with the baby, trying to strap him into the pram whilst being kicked and hit from all angles.

The siblings exchanged a knowing look and shuddered at the same time, just as Verity came trotting over, her arms overflowing with gossip magazines and sickly romance paperbacks. She dropped the bundle down on a nearby seat and began sorting them out into a neat, manageable pile.

“Jesus, mum, we’re going on a two hour flight to Barcelona for a week. I doubt you’ll be needing that much reading material,” Andy pointed out.

“I need to check that Abbey hasn’t made the gossip pages in any of these magazines, then I can relax and read my books.”

“Mum,” Abbey massaged her temples, draining the remains of her lukewarm coffee, pushing the cup into a nearby bin, “he’s hardly in Wayne Rooney’s league. We never had any photographers or journalists tailing us when we went out. I highly doubt I’ll be in any of those magazines.”

“She’s right. Scumbag’s more Z-list than England squad,” Andy smirked to himself.

Verity sat herself down and began flicking through Heat. “I still need to check, just to be on the safe side.”

“Fine,” Abbey sighed, picking up her oversized handbag and walking off towards Boots. She’d explained time and time again to her mother, the best way to get over Kieron would be to not speak his name, or talk about him. Spain was supposed to be a distraction, not a reminder of the destruction that would await her when she graced Heathrow with her presence again.

Boots was like a ghost town. Last minute flights tended to be the scarce and rushed. Verity had booked them onto a six ten AM flight. Just a few of the long haul passengers milling around like zombies, dreading the next few hours confined in a pressurised cabin.

She picked up a bottle of perfume, spritzing it into the air and taking a deep breath. It smelt fruity and fresh. The kind of scent Kieron would have liked. She placed the bottle back immediately, heading for the sun cream aisle. Colourful bottles adorned the shelves on either side, factor ten, to factor a million and one. Followed by the vastly expensive bottles of fake tan.
Abbey drifted towards the shiny make up aisle. Bottles, tubes and tubs of every colour in the rainbow looked at her temptingly. She spotted her step father over the opposite aisle, probably stocking up on painkillers. Her mother would no doubt give him a ton of headaches over the next seven days. She smiled at him, before reaching for a red lipstick tester and drawing a line on her hand, analysing the colour under the fluorescent shop lighting.

“You alright?” Joe’s gruff voice met her ears.

Returning the lipstick to it’s designated shelf, Abbey looked up at Joe, shrugging. “I’ll live. It’s not like I’m dying or anything.” She picked up a shocking pink lipstick and drew another line on her hand, studying it against her pale skin.

“I know your mother’s not being the most sympathetic she could be at the moment, but she’s never had to deal with any of your heartbreak before. You and Kieron were together for ages, and Luke and Andy can look after themselves. Try not to get annoyed with her, it’ll all wear off soon and she’ll shut up about it.”

Abbey nodded. “I know. Me and Andy agreed not to talk about him, and mum’s making that difficult.” She glanced in the direction of the seats her mother and Andy were occupying, the former still flicking through her pile of gossip magazines. “She’s scouring the pages to make sure we’re not mentioned.”

Joe scoffed. “He’s hardly Wayne Rooney, is he?”

“Try telling mum that.”

“It’ll be alright you know. I know now it feels like you’ve wasted your time with him, but you’ll learn from this. But just because one knob thinks he can get away with treating you like rubbish and cheating on you, doesn’t mean they all do.” He smiled at her, before taking his things to the counter.

She sighed and picked up a purple nail polish, heading for the counter. Just before she joined the end of the short queue, her mother appeared by her side, gently grasping her elbow.

“Put that back darling, we need to go to the gate now,” her voice was slow and soft. She prised the tiny bottle from Abbey’s hand and placed it on the closest shelf, guiding her only daughter out of the shop and towards the gate.

People were already queuing up and getting their tickets and passports checked. Joe fished their’s out of his bag, handing them out to each one of them. Abbey stood beside Andy and flipped through her passport. The pages were worn and weathered from the holidays her mother had whisked her off on, all the times she’d been to visit Luke in one place or another and the few holidays she’d had with Kieron. Her throat tightened at the thought. The last time she’d been on a plane was with him a few months ago. Maybe he’d been seeing Marissa Clark back then. Maybe he’d called her from Greece instead of his mum.

Abbey was broken out of her thoughts by Andy poking her side. He nodded towards the queue and the pair joined it, behind their parents. “You alright?” He asked.

She nodded. “Just daydreaming about warm beaches and Pina Coladas.”

“Two more hours and those dreams will be reality.” He grinned as they edged closer to the front of the queue.

Cabin crew welcomed them on board the plane, as soon as they had their tickets checked. Abbey fought with Andy for the window seat and sat herself down, peering out of the tiny window. She was more than ready for this. To fly away and be miles and miles away from her problems.

“These bloody footballers, that Ronaldo’s got a secret baby, did you know? You don’t think Kieron has, do you?” From the other side of Andy, Verity shoved a glossy magazine under Abbey’s nose. She sighed heavily and shook her head.

“No mum, I don’t think he has.” She glanced out of the window, “although it wouldn’t surprise me if he did.”

The seatbelt light flickered into action. Abbey clicked hers into place and accepted a sweet from Andy. She watched the pretty cabin crew go through the safety routine she knew by heart and watched the plane leave the ground and take to the sky. It was only then that Abbey sank back into her seat and relaxed. Her problems couldn’t reach her at this height.