The heat in the car is stifling, and Una can feel her thighs sticking to the leather of the seat. She knows that when she peels herself away, there will be two kidney-shaped splotches left behind. She also knows that when she gets back into the car, she'll not be sitting next to an empty seat. It will be filled by someone else, someone she has never met, someone who has come to live in their house for six months, to hog the bathroom and never have to hoover, someone who will fling their socks to the floor when they watch TV and leave hairs in the shower drain.
She's not exactly looking forward to it, but she can't say she's uninterested by the exchange student. Una is, at the very most, intrigued by this Timothée who'll be sleeping in the spare room and no doubt sitting in her spot at the kitchen table. It's not like she has to look after him, anyway; anything to do with him is Frank's problem. She's just sort of...there.
Una looks out of the window as the car rolls to a halt. People stream from the exit of the airport and she is already dreading it all - the sticky tang of sun cream, the kick of humid sweat as they make their way into the arrivals lounge. It's not even fair because she doesn't get a suitcase herself, doesn't get to trade places with these people returning to England. She's stuck here the whole year, January to June and now June to December, with a family of imbeciles who have somehow managed to procure a French plus one instead of plane tickets to Ireland.
(That had not been a fun conversation, because I can't wait to see Nan and Pops had rapidly changed into Frank's French exchange, Timothée. And it's not like it's Frank's fault for being picked for the exchange trip -- though it kind of is because he was the one that filled in the form in the first place -- but Una wouldn't have minded a trip to see her great-grandparents in Cork. Wouldn't have minded windy beach days and board games and long walks over mottled hills, as opposed to yet another boy in the house. Her dad and brother are more than enough for her already.)
She unbuckles her seatbelt. Grabs onto the hot metal of the door handle and quickly lets herself out. The atmosphere is too spicy, the buzz of heat and dust too much for Heathrow, which is supposed to be grey and gloomy and rainy. Supposed to be the iconic British welcome, just glowering faces and puddles on concrete.
But no, it feels like she genuinely might be in Italy as opposed to London, and Una supposes this is the closest she'll come to an actual holiday this year. She hates it.
The Murphy family form a little possy, Frank striding up front with Fen. Una and Sean trailing behind. Neither of the latter are particularly delighted by the prospect of an exchange student, but it is a point of contention which has been resolved by the family - meaning Fen has said there isn't a problem so naturally, there isn't a problem.
Una's sunglasses slip down the bridge of her nose over a thin film of sweat and sunscreen. She pushes them up onto her head as they enter thelobby, wiping her cheeks to get rid of any excess sweat. The family stand there for a while, waiting for the student to arrive. Una's only seen a glance of his picture and he just looked...well, French, but Frank has at least got a sign with Timothée on it and a scribble above the e where he put the accent the wrong way around initially.
Una's not quite sure why she's expecting some guy with a stripy top and a string of onions around his neck to come through the arrivals lounge with an accordion tucked under his arm, but what she gets is...not that.
Because, in true Murphy fashion, they are actually running late and it is about half an hour later than they said they'd pick him up, but Frank was taking ages in the bathroom and Una changed her outfit three times and they got stuck in traffic on the M25. So Timothées flight has allegedly already gone through baggage control and come out the other end.
Which is worrying because there doesn't seem to be anyone waiting for them. At least, no one has seen Frank's sign and hurried over, so while Fen goes over to enquire, Una stares at her phone, not doing anything on it because she's run out of data. She's listened to the same songs three times now -- because she only has five downloaded in total -- and the earbuds are starting to hurt. Una winds the cords around her phone aimlessly and looks around.

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IN THE HOURS BETWEEN • TC
Fanfiction"Are you lost?" "No, I'm Timothée." --- When her brother's exchange student first comes to stay, Una feels like a stranger in her own house. Timothée speaks English slowly and softly; pauses in the wrong places, constantly tries to take back what h...