He stood and she ducked her head, barely missing a collision with his shoulder. She struggled past him and fell into her seat. Her pack dug uncomfortably into her back.

“I’m sorry.” She turned away from him to ease off her pack and hide her embarrassment. She felt a hand tug the last stubborn strap over her wrist. Clutching the bag to her chest, she turned awkwardly to face him.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

“There’s not a lot of room on these planes, is there?” He grinned and his face creased into hundreds of tiny lines. Keely glanced at his wiry frame and then looked over the backpack to her long solid legs. The space allowed would be fine if all of the passengers were his build.

“It’s a long time since I’ve flown,” she said.

His weathered appearance made it hard to judge his age. She thought he was probably in his sixties but the twinkle in his ice-blue eyes made him seem younger.

“Would you like me to put your pack up top for you?” He pointed to the overhead console.

“No, thanks,” she said.

“They won’t let you nurse it.”

“I’ll put it at my feet.” She leaned forward but was interrupted.

“Excuse me, I need to sit there.”

They both looked up. A woman dressed in a tight t-shirt and clinging designer workout pants loomed over them.

Keely hugged her pack tightly as they both clambered out to let the woman in. The faint smell of stale sweat wafted from the newcomer as she settled into her seat then immediately tugged out a pen and magazine. Keely sat back down, dismayed to see a muscular arm already covering the divider between them. The woman opened to a large crossword and began to work; Keely edged away.

“This is going to be a cosy flight.” A low voice murmured in her ear.

She turned and looked directly into the face of the man who sat beside her. In her attempt to avoid contact with the woman she had almost leaned her head on his. Once again she felt her embarrassment burn across her cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” She jerked upright.

“It’s a long way to Perth. If we’re going to be this close we may as well introduce ourselves. I’m Euan Levallier.” He held out his hand and a smile crinkled his face again.

Keely disentangled her own hand from her pack and gave his a quick shake.

“I’m Keely Mitchell.”

“Are you going home to WA or visiting, Keely?” He said her name with a hint of brogue that reminded her of her Irish grandfather.

“Oh…visiting,” she replied, but the thought of escaping forever was momentarily intoxicating.

“Have you been before?”

“Only to Perth. When I was a child my grandparents lived there.”

“You’ll find it’s changed since then. Are you planning on travelling further?”