I sat down at a table for two, and Leanne joined me. The rest of the cast and crew were sitting at tables nearby. We ate in silence for a minute or two before Leanne commented, “I saw you taking pictures of yourself earlier. What was that about? Have you started a new social media feed I’m not aware of or something?”
A small measure of embarrassment pinched at me as I cleared my throat. “No, uh, a friend back home challenged me to take a selfie every day while I’m here and send them to her. She thinks it’s a good confidence-building exercise.”
Leanne’s mouth curved into a smile. “She?”
“Yes, I have a female friend. Is that so shocking?”
“Of course not. Don’t be silly. At least now I know the reason why I’ve caught you grinning at your phone so often lately.”
“I haven’t been grinning at my phone,” I protested.
Leanne threw her hands up. “Okay, my mistake. You weren’t grinning. Maybe you were gurning, and I was just standing too far away to tell.”
“Funny,” I deadpanned.
We ate the rest of our pizza in quiet, but what she said stuck with me. Had I been grinning at my phone? I guess texting with Afric could be kind of amusing sometimes.
When we got back to the hotel, I took a long, hot shower then crawled into bed. The following day was a blur of activity. I barely had a chance to grab a bite to eat, never mind take a selfie for Afric. I was reminded of this when I got back to the hotel, called for some room service, and found a message on my phone.
Afric: It’s 10 p.m. here, and still no picture. Have you chickened out on me?
Neil: Work was crazy today. I didn’t have time.
Afric: Sounds a lot like an excuse.
Neil: No, seriously. It was mayhem. I’ll send you two selfies tomorrow to make up for it.
Afric: Okay, I suppose I can allow for that. I hope you’re not working too hard! I’m about to call it a night and watch an episode of North and South before bed.
Neil: North and South?
Afric: It’s an old period drama Michaela’s been on at me to watch. She swears it’s one of her favourites.
Neil: Well, my co-assistant has good taste, so I’m sure it’s worth a watch.
Afric: Hey! Why don’t you watch it with me? We can sync up our screens on Netflix.
I stared at her text, unsure of how to respond, when there was a knock on my door announcing the arrival of my room service order. I went to grab it, tipped the porter, then set it on the table next to the bed. I pondered Afric’s offer again and thought maybe it would be nice to watch a show together, even if it was only virtually. I’d always found hotel rooms particularly lonely. It was one of the main reasons I didn’t always enjoy travelling. I picked up my phone and shot off a text.
Neil: Sure. My dinner just arrived, so I need something to watch while I eat anyway.
Afric: Great! Log in to your Netflix account and pull the first episode up. I’ll do the same, and then I’ll send through a video call link.
I changed into a T-shirt and some lounge pants before getting comfortable on the bed with my food and laptop. A minute later, Afric’s video call link came through, and her face appeared on my screen.
“Hey, you!” she said with a smile. “Oh, you look so cosy and tired in that big hotel bed. What are you eating?”
She craned her neck to see what was on my plate, and I couldn’t help my small grin. “Just a chicken salad and some potato wedges.”
“Is that sweet chili dip?” she asked, eyeing my plate. “I love sweet chili. Great, now I’m hungry. Can you wait a minute while I go grab some snacks?”
I chuckled. “Sure.”
A minute or two later, she was back with a bag of Doritos. “Okay, now I’m ready,” she said, climbing under her duvet. We made sure to both press play at the exact same moment before settling in to watch the episode. It was one of those BBC period dramas, but I hadn’t seen it before. The main character was a woman, Margaret Hale, who had moved from a picturesque country town in the south of England to an industrial town in the north called Milton. She makes the acquaintance of the owner of the local cotton mill,