“We’ve still got an hour,” Peter said. “We can wait in the Qantas Club.”

Clair and I hesitated. When we tried to get into the Qantas Club in Melbourne this morning, the staff had allowed us in reluctantly. Each member was only allowed one guest per trip.

We walked into the foyer of the Canberra airport Qantas club.

“Excuse me!” the receptionist said. “Can I see your boarding passes?” Peter showed her his. I sort of waved mine at her too. Clair did the same.

“Only one guest,” she said. We looked at each other.

“Can you let us in this time?” Peter asked casually.

“No.” She shook her head firmly.

“Go ahead, Peter,” I said. “We can wait outside. I’ve waited in airports before. I don’t need the Qantas club.”

There was a long silence as we stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

“Well, no, you wait here,” Peter said. “I’ll see if there’s anyone I know.” He disappeared into the club. What? What’s he doing? What’s he mean, see if there’s anyone he knows?

Clair and I waited at the edges. I tried not to look at the receptionist.

Two minutes passed and Peter emerged with another gentleman. His companion looked at us with a small smile.

“Right, let’s go” was Peter’s brisk introduction. Surprised, Clair and I scurried after him.

“Hold on!” the receptionist called. “Do you have a guest already?”

Peter’s companion shook his head. “No.”

The receptionist glowered as the four of us walked into the club, where complimentary wine, food, magazines, TV and internet access awaited us.

As soon as we reached the lounge, we waved goodbye to the accommodating fellow.

“Peter, was he some stranger you just picked up?” Clair laughed.

“Oh, I know him from the university,” Peter said vaguely. “I just thought there might be someone I knew.