Im YUK,nice to meet u

‘We’re here,’ he said.

Jimmy, sitting behind him, didn’t reply. He’d been awake all night and hadn’t slept on the plane either. Now he was propping his head up with one hand, his fingers tangled in his dark curls, his eyes fixed on the seat in front of him. There was nothing there, just a relentless glow.

Robert stood up and took his leather jacket from the overhead compartment. The air conditioning was still running in the cabin, making it stiflingly hot, but he put the jacket on anyway. The scent of the leather mingled with his own, giving Robert a slight sense of reassurance. He paused as he walked past Jimmy, who looked up at him.

“Let’s go,” Robert said.

Jimmy stood up and followed behind him. He was a little shorter than Robert, his gait almost floating; black trousers, black boots, black curly hair falling over his shoulders. He carried nothing with him; someone was looking after his instruments, someone was looking after his luggage; all he needed to do was take himself away.

They stepped out of the cabin, and the wind from the boarding ramp hit them in the face, carrying the distinctive, salty, fishy smell of a northern harbour. Robert walked ahead; the wind ruffled his hair, and he squinted as he spotted a black minivan parked at the edge of the tarmac. A short, stocky man stood beside it, holding up a sign on which the words ‘LEDZEPPELIN’ were written in black ink.

But it was misspelled; there was a ‘P’ missing.

“That’s our van,” Robert said, turning back to Jimmy.