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moment’s capture.
    â€œI have to go. Love you guys. Bye.”
    For once look forward, Dan.

C HAPTER 6
    Dan 14:35
    Leaving leaves me drained. I walk head bowed into Departures; away from love and personal contradiction. I am most relieved to relinquish the position of baby security guard to Sophia. I see myself kneeling in unending despair by the taxi, all hope lost from my outstretched arms. In the end Sophia was okay I think, not too fazed by Juliet’s presence, the accident or Robert’s boorishness.
    Where is my boarding… oh there? I cannot believe Juliet is actually here; she still looks great. Can I remember how to ski after all these years? What a selfish loose cannon Robert is. Chris is going to hate all of them. Hope Max didn’t get any more work at that meeting with ByeFly yesterday; we would have to do it next week before I disappear to Italy for three weeks. Juliet and Johnny will hate everyone as well. There is hope if they are all here for me I suppose.
    Airport security flexes their muscles again at the security area; they have every right to inspect every possession. What is the right look to inspire trust? I think over-friendly comments would bring as much suspicion as being deathly quiet; beaming inanely must be worse of all. My forgotten belt forces squeals of rejection from the full length X-ray machine. I unbuckle it and successfully try again, prompting them to give me a just-in-case skimming with a metal detector wand. I re-gather my possessions and move on. Why do they make me feel so grateful to get to my plane?
    I walk at pace, ignoring the wealth of retail fixes on offer. My group is sitting blankly on thin designer chairs cemented to the floor at Departure Gate 33. As I approach their eyes seem to search for me to attempt the impossible, to weld together this heap of my life’s scrap metal.
    â€œHere’s our man,” Johnny tries to rally them. Downcast eyes betray characters who never think of anyone but themselves. It is scary seeing them all together.
    â€œReally sorry guys.” My unnecessary apology is unconditional, unspecific and multi-dimensional in the hope that each person will take a different crumb.
    â€œDid I stop anyone boarding?” I see that the exit door behind the gate is open; it squirts the compressed sucking sound of jet engines. Three young families and seven pensioners line up at the desk, taking advantage of their privileged boarding status.
    â€œNo, but there are some clucking hens who want to see you before we board,” says Max. He had probably felt duty bound to foist himself on them as a stag. I turn to see seven women slumped pensively in pink T-shirts and plastic tiaras. Their hen spirit has evidently gone flat.
    â€œWhat’s the story there?” I ask him.
    â€œThey have no hen to fly the coop with them.” Blatantly ignoring the flying inability of this bird.
    â€œShe had an argument with her intended this morning and is in hospital or something.” Their decision to carry on regardless looks a terrible one. I am glad for the advance warning as a disgruntled hen waddles over.
    â€œThis is him, is it?” She enquires of Max.
    â€œNot much on him; bloody tall though.” She seems immediately oblivious to me and disappointed in my physique. She nonchalantly kisses me good luck relaying the heavy odour of a heavy smoker. Her spittle invasively hangs on my cheek as the outside air cools it. The other hens seem a little cheered to know someone nearby has the prospect of getting married.
    â€œWhere are you girls headed to?” I skirt around their loss.
    â€œStaying in Courmayeur in Italy, but fuck knows why. Our Karen has just busted her intended’s head open with a video player. She caught him with his trousers down having a wank watching dirty tapes of him shagging his ex. He is in casualty now with two injuries.
    â€œWhat are those then?” Max pushes his luck.
    â€œHe needs