We check in, and the guy at the desk says, 'Getting rid of him, are you?' and I say, 'Yeah, sick of him,' and we all laugh.

We look in the duty free shop and sniff perfumes. That is, I sniff perfumes, while John fills out his customs declaration form in the corner. 'Ooh, sniff this,' I say, and he does, and doesn't look very interested, because he's a bloke.

We sit, and eat soggy Red Rooster chips and discover that boarding is half an hour later than we thought, so he doesn't have to leave so soon. 'Does this mean I'm stuck with you for another half an hour?' I say, and he says, 'yep,' and I say, 'Gah, but the other boys are WAITING, John,' and we laugh.

We share an iced coffee, and it has ice cream in it and I am confused and say 'What is this big ball of shit in my coffee?' because I am stupid and not used to it.

We look at our watches, and walk to the gate, and I say 'I could so go down to customs with you. Look, there's just one security guard, and he looks bored and tired. He wouldn't give a toss.'

We hug. 'I'll see you again soon,' he says, and I nod. We kiss. He turns to leave, then looks at me, and hugs me again. I laugh. I look over and see everyone watching. We are those people at the airport. 'Go on, you'll miss your flight, you git,' I say. He nods, and hugs me again. Kisses me again. 'Get out of here, you stinkin' pom,' I say, in my best ocker accent, and he laughs and hugs me again. I laugh too, because if I don't laugh, I'll cry.

We part. He disappears down the escalator, waving once and then looking away, because that's the smart thing to do.

...

I told my taxi driver I worked in an inbound call centre and he thought I said inbound cold centre and started pointing out how terrible it must be to go outside when it's so hot.

'Yes, that's right,' I replied.