70
CONNOR
I tried to sleep during the long flight to the UK, but found it impossible. I took my phone from my pocket. There were half a dozen text messages from Lynne:
PLEASE COME HOME.
GET THE NEXT FLIGHT BACK HERE AND WE’LL BE WAITING.
PLEASE DON’T DO THIS, CONNOR.
YOUR SON NEEDS HIS DADDY.
PLEASE, CONNOR. COME BACK TO US.
I LOVE YOU. WE LOVE YOU.
I’d lost track of how many times I considered calling her, just to hear her voice one more time. I always managed to stop myself just short of making the call, knowing it would only take one more plea from her to make me turn around and go back.
It would be so easy to get off at the layover in Athens and catch a flight back to Christchurch, to go back to everything in this world that really mattered to me. I wanted to be with my wife
