Leonie Jarrett lives mostly in Melbourne, Australia with her Husband of more than 3 decades, her 4 adult children and her 2 Golden Retrievers.

Leonie has variously been a lawyer and a business owner.

Now that she is semi-retired, Leonie is loving writing about her life, her travels and her experiences.

The Arrivals Hall

“Please let’s go Mum. Pleeeeease.”

“OK, OK, we’ll go.”

After all, it was the Summer school holidays and I wasn’t working that day. I should make the most of this time. It won’t be long before eight year old Oscar doesn’t want to do anything with me any more like this older brother who is hell-bent on breaking the World record for the most hours playing Fortnite or his older tweenager sister who watches YouTube make up tutorials incessantly.

I hadn’t planned to pick Dave up from the airport but Oscar wanted to surprise him.

Dave has always travelled a lot for work. I used to count the days (literally and figuratively) until he came home to me.

Now that we’ve been married for over eighteen years, the days blur with the busyness of kids and work. I feel like life is easier when Dave is not there. The kids and I get into a rhythm. And, let’s face the elephant in the room – there’s no arguments. Well, there are arguments but just with the kids. I can deal with the kids. The arguments with Dave are a whole other story.

If we’re not arguing, we’re treading on eggshells around each other.

“How did we get here?” I wonder silently as I drive. We were so full of hope and dreams and love Dave and I. Now, I’m driving to the airport to pick him up out of a desire to please our son rather than a desire to sweep Dave up in my arms.

The traffic isn’t too bad for once and we arrive at the airport as Dave’s plane lands. That gives us time to park and be waiting in the Arrivals Hall. We see Dave come out of the sliding doors. Oscar runs into Dave’s outstretched arms (as I used to do).

I stay put. Dave looks up over Oscar’s hug, finds me in the crowd and smiles at me. It’s a surprised smile. Nervous. Halting. A smile that tells me that Dave doesn’t know if I really want to be here at all.

Dave comes over to me with Oscar hanging off him. He sort of gives me a hug.

I feel like Emma Thompson in “Love Actually” as Alan Rickman arrives at Heathrow. Without the tawdry affair but with the tension.

“Nice surprise Sarah. Missed you,” Dave says to me.

“Yeah, me too,” I lie. “Let’s go home.”