I had packed everything that I needed to. It was Saturday morning now. I made my way downstairs, where my Pops was waiting by the door, and the driver was helping him put his suitcases into the boot. Dad was tapping his foot against the floor impatiently, on a heated phone-call with somebody, but I couldn't quite make out what was being said.
"Come on, Zara, we're gonna be late," Dad called.
"Coming, Dad!" I called back.
I dragged my suitcases to the car, putting them in the boot, and then sat down in the passenger seat. Before I knew it, the car began to drive. I wound the window down, and allowed the wind to lap in my face, as I watched other cars whiz past, hills overlap and fade into each other, the car continuing to pick up speed with every passing second.
Thirty miles per hour…
Forty miles per hour…
Fifty miles per hour…
I could feel a sense of warmth and excitement overflood my body, with the anticipation of leaving the gloomy, depressing environment of the United Kingdom. As soon as we would arrive in Italy, we would be hit with hot weather, which was a rare occurrence in England, where it was always miserable and rainy.
"Thanks for taking me, Dad," I smiled widely. "I really appreciate it. I won't forget this."
I continued to stare outside of the window, but I could feel my face fall slightly, when I didn't receive a response from Dad. I slowly moved my head clockwise to face him, and he was sweating profusely, fumbling with his collar, looking so dejected and ghostly, it was like somebody had just walked over his grave.
We were going on holiday, and he seemed so happy about it yesterday…
But right now, his face was telling a different story. I didn't know what was wrong with him.
I figured that it must just be nerves, or stress with his business, and decided not to overthink it.
"Everything okay, Dad?" I asked, concerned.
He swallowed down a lump in his throat, before giving me a small nod, but he wouldn't say a word.
I shrugged, not thinking anything of it, and turned back to the window, allowing the cool breeze to continue lapping in my face.
***
Before I knew it, we arrived at the airport. We went through the different processes at the airport, from having our passports and tickets checked, to passing our luggage through the conveyor belts, to joining the queue for passengers boarding the plane. Before long, the flight had taken off, and we were thousands of feet above the ground.
Dad still looked a little stressed. He opened his laptop and began typing away. I decided to keep myself occupied, too, and make the most of the five-star service that Dad had booked for us. A lady came around to serve us food and drinks. I started wolfing down the biscuits, before I turned on the mini-television in front of my seat, deciding to watch Titanic from the movie selection.
A story of love at first sight, funny…
I was a sucker for fiction romances, but I hardly believed love happened in real-life.