She looked through panel after panel of glass, out onto an unknown city. People rushed around her, to and fro like busy ants. But she just stood there. Taking deep breaths. Quietly smiling to herself.
After what seemed like hours to her, but was in fact around ten minutes, she picked up her small trolley suitcase and headed towards the doors.
Washington Dulles International Airport. The beginning of a new life.
Sophie was British, born just outside London. She'd attended a good university and graduated with a first class degree, yet something was wrong about her life. She'd lived within her mother's boundaries all her life, chopped and changed her personality, her attitudes, her opinions but now she was ready. Ready for a fresh start. Ready to finally find herself.
So here she was. America. She had managed to land herself a year contract with a local school, teaching English as a second language during evening classes. And she was excited. Her mother had tut-tutted and complained, what was the need to go so far for so long when there were plenty of job opportunities right there in England. But Sophie resented the restrictive binds of her childhood which had creeped into her adult life, she wanted to explore the world, and so she ignored her mother's pleas.
Her mother had an unusual attachment with her children. Sophie's father had left her mother and her brothers and sister when she was just 5 years old. She had him to thank for her golden skin and dark mocha hair. Her mother had fallen in love with her father, an Indian man who ran the local restaurant when she was 20, rebelled against her own parents and married him. They'd had 4 children, ran the restaurant together and lived a happy enough life. And then one day he packed up and left. Leaving everything behind, taking only his toothbrush, an old navy blazer and a battered copy of War and Peace. Sophie always mused over his choice of items to take with him, and wondered what would she have taken? Something with a little more sentiment most likely. Her mother had sold the restaurant, taken up a quiet job at the local post office and Sophie hadn't felt her father's loss, except for the occasional twinge.
She tentatively stepped outside the doors of the airport, holding up a small group of tourists behind her, eager to take pictures of the airport and not the back of Sophie's head. A wave of relief swept over her. She felt free. At home in this strange place. She confidently walked up to a taxi, climbed in, and read her new address off a slip of paper.
*****
It had been a week since she landed in Washington. Her modest apartment felt like home, her hippy style of decoration had helped make the cold, clean lines of the existing decor break up a little. Drawings, photos, pictures covered one wall of her bedroom. Vases, candles and books scattered around all over the place marked this place as hers, Sophie's apartment. It had taken her a few days to unpack, the majority of her things arriving the day after she landed.
Sophie had strolled around her local neighbourhood, taking in the sights and sounds. She'd met the couple who lived above her in their own apartment, they seemed like nice people, they didn't play loud music at 4 am and kept themselves to themselves. She had watched two toddlers play on their lawn with their mother and father just three doors down from her, and smiled warmly as she passed them. She had even made a friend, an old man who lived opposite her.
*****
"One moment!" She shouted, scrambling into a pair of worn jeans. She ran her fingers through her hair, wondering who it was at the door.
"Hi." He said, one hand leaning against the door post, the other lazily placed in his pocket. A smile playing on his lips.
"Hi." Sophie replied, confusion written all over her face. Was she expecting this man? He didn't look like the electrician she had phoned the day before, no tools, no van.
"Can I help you at all?" She said, drinking in his appearance. The messy light brown hair, speckled with blonde. Deep blue eyes, a chiselled jaw and slanted brows, giving him an intelligent look. He was tall, 6 foot at least. She registered muscular arms, his obviously well shaped body underneath his blue t-shirt. The same colour as those eyes, intently staring at her.
"Yeah, my name's Jack, I live across the road at number 22. I heard someone new moved in, just thought I'd come over and introduce myself."
