Heathrow - Van McCann (short story)

Intro

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

I read the caller ID several times, not actually believing who was calling. "Who is it Van?" Larry asked from beside me, concerned.

"Emily,"

"Emily?"

Larry was shocked, as was I. "Man, haven't heard from her in what, 6 months now?" He questioned.

"Summet like that, yeah". I responded, bluntly.

"Go on then, answer it," Larry edged, so I did, trying to work out why this girl was calling me after so long.

"Alright Em?" I spoke when I cut off the vibrating from my phone. For a split second there was silence, something was up.

"Uh, shit, Van- erm" I heard her quiver at the end of the line. I haven't heard that voice in what feels like years.

She paused for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry- this was a mistake- I, I shouldn't have called," she stuttered.

"No, no what's up?" I asked her. I knew she wouldn't have called unless she was desperate.

"Uh, are you still in London?" She was hopeful, and almost sounded embarrassed by her sudden questioning.

"Yeah, yeah why? Are you back?"

"Yeah I am," her voice cracked. "I'm at Heathrow airport."

"Want me to pick you up?" I asked her, knowing that is what she wanted. Also knowing she was too polite to ask.

"Yes- yes please, you know, if you don't mind," she stuttered. She never liked being a bother to anyone.

"I'm on my way, see you in a bit,"

"See you, Van,"

The line was cut off, and my ear was startled by the on going monotone bleep of the phone.

"Where is she?" Larry asked, wonder struck across his face.

"Heathrow," I responded. "Off to go get her, see you in a bit mate."