The Mighty Storm

Jake’s generosity, seemingly knows no bounds. I knew he would make the donation, but a million pounds – he’s just amazing.

I was so proud of Jake in that moment. Not that I haven’t been so over the years, but this was different.

My eyes filled with tears as I listened to my dad telling me all about what they would do with the money. And when I told him it was Jake who had made the donation, I know he was floored. He was silent for a long time.

I gave my dad Jake’s phone number so he could call him to thank him.

I’m guessing he has, but neither Jake or my dad have mentioned it to me and I don’t want to pry.

I really hope they are back in touch properly, and hopefully they’ll get a chance to actually see each other again, as I’m going to talk to Stuart to see if I can get my folks some tickets to come out and see one of the shows on the tour; I know Stuart deals with all that kind of stuff.

I know my dad will just love it.

I’m going to buy the travel and hotel as present for them, and I’m particularly hoping for the gig in Spain, as it’s on a weekend – a Saturday night, so it’s perfect as they would both be off work and then I could spend the weekend with them. I haven’t spent enough time with them recently.

I haven’t said anything to them yet. I thought I would wait to make sure I could get the tickets for the gig first.

I’m feeling a little daunted by the whole tour thing to be honest, I mean, it’s a huge deal, and the closer I get to the airport the tighter the knots in my stomach become.

The only person I’ll know on the tour is Jake, and of course he’ll be busy a lot. So when I’m not following him around doing my job, I’m going to be at a loose end, and it could get a little lonely for me. I intend to do plenty of sightseeing in those amazing cities I’ll be going to – first stop Stockholm.

I’ve never been and I’m stoked to see the place for the first time. And I’ve already got myself guide books for all the places I’m going too and they are downloaded and ready on my Kindle.

Geeky, yes. Practical, very.

The taxi pulls up at Heathrow and the driver kindly lugs my huge suitcase out of the boot for me.

Slinging my carry-on over my shoulder, I wheel my suitcase into the busy airport.

I’m a little nervous about flying alone. I’ve never done it before, but thankfully it’s a short flight, and I’ve got my Kindle and my iPod to keep me company.

I reach the check-in desk, parking up my case I take my passport and travel details out of my bag.

Stuart had booked the plane ticket for me and as it was an online booking, he emailed me paperwork to bring with me. He also said one of Jake’s drivers will be there to pick me up. I hope it’s Dave, a familiar face would be good when landing in a strange city. I get the impression that Jake’s drivers are also his security guys, makes sense if you ask me and I’m yet to meet the others. As Dave is the head of Jake’s security there’s bound to be others. I just get the impression Jake always has Dave with him, he seems to trust him implicitly.

I hand my passport and papers over to the woman behind the desk.

“Can you put your case on the scales please?”

I lift it on praying to God I’m not over my allowance. I don’t pack light; I get it from my mum.

Phew, I just skim in my allowance.

“Okay so you’re in First Class,” she’s saying, “so that gives you access to the First Class lounge–”

“Sorry, what?”

She looks at me like I’m slightly slow.

“You’re travelling First Class so that entitles you to use the First Class lounge. Just show them your boarding pass and passport at the reception, and that will grant you access.”

Jake.

I can’t believe he’s done this. Actually, yes I can.

“Okay. Thank you,” I say feeling a little breathless, taking back my passport and boarding card from her.

Stuart had sent me the travel details but I didn’t see anywhere on there that I would I was travelling First Class when I read over them.

I’ve never had First Class anything in my life. I’m not really a First Class girl. I’m more likely to be found in the standard airport bar getting pissed before the flight, then staggering around duty-free buying more booze for the holiday.

And I just don’t want Jake spending his money on me like this, even though it’s totally generous and I don’t mean to sound ungrateful … it’s just … well I bet he doesn’t have all his staff travelling First Class. I don’t want to be a special case. I don’t want him making allowances because of our history. And as it stands now, I’m part of his staff and should be treated as so.

I’ll have to make sure he doesn’t do it again. But I’ll make sure to say it in a very nice way.

I make my way up to the First Class lounge and get myself a drink. Alcoholic of course, white wine; I know it’s early but I’m on vacation, kind of, and well I’ve just had a bit of a shock with this whole First Class thing, and the wine is just to insanely delicious to turn down.

And the lounge is amazing, sumptuous; it’s better than my whole flat.

Seeing as though I’m here, I may as well make myself at home, so I get myself well acquainted with the lounge and pick a window seat, one of the most comfortable seats I have ever rested my derrière in, and I can sit and watch the planes taking off from here.

I retrieve my Kindle from my bag, to read a book while I wait for my flight.

I try to read, but I just can’t focus, as my mind keeps flickering back to Jake and the whole First Class thing.

Despite my feelings about it, I really should thank him. I get my phone out of my bag and type out a text:

So I’m sitting in the first class lounge, in the most comfortable seat my ass has ever graced, sipping on the best glass of wine I’ve ever tasted, courtesy of this amazingly generous guy who paid for my ticket. You don’t happen to know who he is do you? x

I get a text back a minute later:

Nope not a clue. ps. I wish I was the chair ;) x

I reply:

Thank you. Not necessary ... but so totally awesome! … and behave! :) x

I get a text immediately back:

This is me behaving ;) And well, I couldn’t have my best friend flying coach, could I :) I’m already in Stockholm so I’ll see u in a few hours. x

I get a frisson of energy rush through me about the tour, and about seeing Jake.

I might be nervous about the whole tour and bio thing, but I’m also totally excited too. It’s a huge opportunity to be touring with The Mighty Storm.

Smiling to myself, I reply:

Cool. Have I mentioned I’m excited about the tour? It’s gonna be so totally epic! x

His reply comes a couple of minutes later:

A few times ;) And sure it is, it’s a TMS tour … with the added bonus of u. x

He can be so sweet at times. I’m getting the warm and fuzzies again, and getting more and more keen to see him as the time nears.

The announcement of my flight boarding comes over the tannoy. I quickly tap out a reply to him:

Boarding now. See u on the other side. x

I drop my phone in my bag and make my way to the gate. While I’m in the queue, I get my phone out again to see if he’s replied. He has:

Can’t wait. x

Butterflies take flight in my stomach.

Me either. And I’m really going now. x

While I have my phone out, I quickly type out a text to Will letting him know I’m boarding and that I’ll call him when I land. Then a quick one to Simone saying pretty much the same.

I switch my phone off, drop it in my bag, hand my boarding pass to the guy waiting, and make my way onto the plane and to my First Class seat.

Okay, so I am totally flying First Class all the time. It is just awesome, and you get so well looked after. I had two glasses of champagne on the plane and they give you them for free!

I’m currently feeling a little fizzy happy.

I’m off the plane and just going through customs, and glad I wore one of my loose fitting skater shirts to travel in as it’s boiling here in Stockholm.

The skirt I’m wearing is blue with a gold chain print on it and longer than the black one I wore to Jake’s interview. It’s respectably long; serious writer long, well a few inches above the knee, but still very smart, and I’m wearing my three-quarter length sleeved sweatshirt, but the material is thin so it’s not too bad in this heat, and I’m wearing my gold ballet shoes.

Flats, I don’t wear them often, but ideal for travelling in.

I wanted to look nice, as it’s the first time I’m seeing Jake in two weeks, and quite possibly meeting the other guys in the band.

I get a fizz of excitement running through my bloodstream at the very thought.

I’m through customs pretty quickly, and then on to retrieve my suitcase.

While I’m waiting for my suitcase, I get my phone out and switch on roaming, then call Will.

“Hey baby.” He sounds all deep and lovely. “You got there okay?”

“I did. I’m just waiting for my case now.”

“So how is Sweden so far?”

“Hot.”

He laughs. “I miss you already.”

“Miss you too.”

“You still wearing your bracelet?”

I touch my wrist. “Of course.”

“Good.”

I spot my suitcase making its way around the conveyor. “My case is coming so I’m gonna go. I’ll call you later. Love you.”

“Okay baby. Love you too.”

I hang my phone up and just catch my suitcase in time, before it sets off to make the journey back around.

Then I head toward arrivals. I spot Dave immediately, and am so relieved it’s him waiting for me.

“Hi,” I say.

“Good flight?” he asks, in his super deep voice, taking my suitcase from me.

“It was awesome,” I beam.

He looks at me a little puzzled. My cheeks flush. He’s probably used to the whole first class thing working for Jake.

“The car’s just outside.”

I follow Dave through the airport and over to a brand-new black Mercedes SLK, presumably a hire, parked up in one of the drop-off and pick-up bays.

The windows are heavily tinted on the car. I guess they have to be for when Jake’s travelling in it.

Dave parks my suitcase at the side of the car and gets my door for me.

“Thank you,” I say climbing in, and then my heart nearly leaps out of my chest.

Jake is sitting in the backseat of the car, waiting for me, a huge smile on his face.

“Hey!” I beam at him. The door shuts with a clunk behind me and then without thinking, I throw my arms around his neck, hugging him tight.

His arms go around me, hugging me back, just as tight I notice.

And for this brief, momentary hug, all I can do is breathe him in. His scent soothes through me, and I feel like I’m home.

I didn’t realise just how much I was missing him until this very moment. Or maybe I just didn’t allow myself to feel it for fear of how I would feel, like how I do, right now, here in his arms.

Just so completely overwhelmed by the emotion and level of feelings I have for this man.