Party Girl at Heart

by Karen Elaine Campbell

  As the shiny silver Aston drew inexorably closer, just one look at the straight line of his brows, drawn together over eyes that had darkened from the colour of warm sherry to the meanest shade of lifeless pitch told Crystal all that she needed to know: she was horrendously late again, and he was totally furious with her.

  She wrinkled her nose as she finally managed to park up, abandoning the car in a bay marked exclusively for local dignitaries, remembering that Jonno had all but erupted into flames the last time that she’d been held up en-route. A tiny whisper of caution nudged at her consciousness, reminding her of the path his frustration had taken the last time she’d tangled with him on the issue of her tardiness. She couldn’t stop the frisson of alarm which zizzed freely down her spine and spiked at her core; but she would adopt an ice cool demeanour today, the event was laced with possibility and she needed to get a grip, fast.

  Luckily she spied Babs circulating amongst the crowds amassed outside the main hangar and shamelessly slipped through the throng of people, happy to use her friend as cover if need be; she could see Jonno striding through the conflagration of people milling around the main hangar as he attempted apprehend her. She then spent an hour circumventing Jonno whenever he came within range, with Babs content to chivvy her along in between her official duties the time flashed past at lightning speed.

  Crystal held herself rigid and had to remind herself to blink. Everything else that she had ever accomplished in her life paled into insignificance. It was ‘crunch’ time; the weather was clear, bright and sunny and the crowds were jostling into position around the fringes of the airfield, picnic baskets emptying rapidly as they relaxed and anticipated the day’s key event. They looked like hordes of gaily coloured ants from this height, Crystal thought as she stole a glance out of the wide open doorway.

  Jonno had been tied up with paperwork, camera men, local dignitaries and hanger’s on since she’d ‘kitted-up,’ so she’d been able to avoid him completely until now. With his thigh pressed hard up against her own and the heat of his body radiating through her flimsy outfit, Crystal’s nerves screamed in protest. As she slipped and slid around on the long wooden bench seat which ran the whole length of the aircraft, she held fast to the hand-hold and tried to block him out. It was childish in the extreme, but she actually managed to wriggle around in her seat so that her back was turned towards him, although her body burned as she imagined his cynical gaze blazing a path between her shoulder blades as he monitored her pathetic attempt at evasion.

  She had nothing to say to him as she watched the pilot skilfully line the aircraft up for the jump. The syrupy acidity of the hard-boiled sweet that she’d crammed into her mouth on take-off was making her feel nauseous and she wondered why she’d bothered to get onto the plane first at all. It hadn’t made any difference in the end. By standing at the front of the queue she’d hoped to avoid Jonno and Dex, assuming that they’d be too busy taking care of those at the back of the line to bother about her, but no, here she was at five thousand feet, over the chalky hills of Wiltshire, clamped in right next to Jonno, and scheduled to be the last ‘trainee’ out, at the end of the session.

  She bit her lip, her nerves were failing fast. No, not failing, they’d already failed, totally, as in absolute wipe-out. She was a complete and utter gibbering wreck. She’d been okay on the practise run, because Jonno had taken stock of her terrified squealing in the dressing room and at the last minute he’d been fitted up with a dual harness which meant that he’d jumped with her, but not so this time. She would be jumping solo today he’d told her, peering officiously over the top of his ever-present clip board at her and underlining the point in a voice that brooked no argument.

  When she’d arrived in the briefing room today very, very late, his warm brown eyes had been flinty and cold and he’d bitten the words out with relish, just to see her baulk, she was sure of it. Now though reaction was setting in and after the day that she’d had she really wasn’t sure she could take any more, she lifted an arm to brush a few loose tendrils of hair away from her face and realised that her hands were ice cold and trembling in terror, she couldn’t do this, she really, really couldn’t.

  She could feel the cool rush of air on her skin as the wind whipped in through the wide open doorway and she watched the light flicker from red to green. There was a loud anguished scream which seemed to come from far, far away and she felt Jonno grab her wrist and pull her around to face him.

  He didn’t look like he was about to take any nonsense from her, she acknowledged. It was noisy inside the aircraft, the engine whined and there was a roaring in her ears. Jonno was talking to her, she could see his lips moving, but she had no idea what his words were, she fixed her gaze on his mouth and trailed her tongue around her own in mute appeal. A flush raised up under his skin, but otherwise he remained calm and in control.

  As the first person disappeared out of the door she heard another scream, and realised it was her own, Jonno had both of her arms in his grasp now and he looked as if he would like to shake her, but he didn’t dare.

  ‘What happens next?’ her brain prompted.

  ‘You jump to your death,’ her alter-ego replied. She thought she might scream again, but this time no sound escaped as her vocal chords atrophied in fear. Inside her skull the demons were rampaging around freely, beyond her control. Terror etched at her features and she couldn’t tamp the paranoia down any longer, her eyes swivelled to Jonno in desperate appeal.

  She was vaguely aware of two more people disappearing out of the side of the aircraft and barely registered the fourth and fifth trainees as they took up their positions like clockwork, ready to move out onto the wing. There were two people now, between Crystal and the door of the aircraft, belatedly she remembered that this was it, they were jumping for real and they had the full charity chutes.

  Those charity chutes, they were different, or something? Her brain tattooed a warning inside the empty cavern of her mind, there was a message there somewhere… What was she supposed to know? What had Dex told her, repeatedly? How did it work? She had no idea.

  There was a reserve, for emergencies, she knew that, but what did it look like, where was it? She racked her brain for clues. She’d stood through the whole briefing on the airfield watching Jonno and making sure that she stayed out of his way. He was as mad as a box of frogs and she’d been preoccupied with avoiding him, she had no intention of giving him the opportunity to yell at her, not if she could help it. So she’d not actually heard a single word of the briefing that Dex had given earlier, she’d ignored him completely and had blocked the whole thing out.

  She wrinkled her nose. Now, think Crystal, just concentrate, you can do this she told herself amid rising hysteria. Don’t look at what everyone else is doing she cautioned as she watched Lizzie move towards the door, concentrate on yourself Crystal, your own movements, don’t panic, just remember what you have learned, she told herself. She just needed to centre and balance and it would be fine, she closed her eyes hoping to embrace a meditative state. It always calmed her in times of stress and it wouldn’t fail her now.

  Jonno was not simpatico, the second that her eyes closed he pinched her ear sharply, and her eyelids shot open again just in time to see the cameraman opposite follow Lizzie out of the plane. So now it was just herself, Jonno and the second camera man, she registered wildly as he gestured with double ‘thumbs up’ and then zoomed the camera in on her pinched, white face. She tried to imagine Jonno’s pure calm energy flowing through the pores of his skin and trailing a path down through his capable fingertips to her own, as he willed her to focus, but it was no good, she’d not heard one single word of the briefing that Dex had given earlier and she’d completely forgotten what to do next.

  “Repeat the drill Crystal,” Jonno insisted loudly in a voice that brooked no argument and his eyes bored into her own. He held both of her hands in his as he forced her to pay attention, he was strong and capable, intense and compelling and there was
no ‘out’ clause, she’d made it this far, she was going to jump, she knew that she would.

  She was going to jump.

  She was actually going to do it.

  She just needed to get out of the aircraft, it would be fine, wouldn’t it?

  Just. Get. On. With. It. Her brain intoned.

  Exactly.

  She wrenched her hands free from Jonno’s as the light switched from red to green and lunged over to the doorway.

  In her haste to scramble out onto the wing, one of the buckles on the ridiculous suit caught on a rough splinter on the racking attached to the side of the plane. There was a sound of tearing as she lost her balance and forged right on out through the open doorway, headfirst. She had no intention of standing on the wing and watching the ground fall away below them, she closed her eyes tight and dived for it, heading straight out, out into blue, blue sky, into absolute nothingness.

  The sound of the air rushing in her ears, the sensation of weightlessness, convinced her that she’d done it, she’d made the jump after all.

  Her thoughts leapt around in her head like a grasshopper on a lily pad… hop, hop, hop.

  “Say, they’re all out now,” Bernard announced, relaying the information from his vantage point on the top of the minibus roof. He’d been peering through the binoculars and squinting at the sky for the past half an hour. “That last one took a right dive for it, he did. Didn’t look like he was in control, that one, not like them other,” he advised. “Them other ones was real orderly, stood neatly on the wing and jumped nicely they did. I reckon that last one jumped sideways. Eh up, another one’s just come out real fast, and another,” he reported. “They didn’t do it like them first ones, neither, looked like they was in a bit of a hurry like… I reckon they’ve got more idea what they’s doin’ though, more than that one what came out sideways did, anyhow.” He took a hefty slurp of beer from the can in his free hand. “Eere, I reckon they’ll catch that other one up, the way them’s goin’. I wonder what’s goin’ on? There’s something up, d’you think?”

  “I don’t know, do I? I thought you said there was eight of ’em up there making the jump today,” Maude commented. “There’s already nine there now, with their parachutes open, I can see that from ’ere. An’ I’ve not got no binoculars, neither,” she added.

  “Hmmm. Well there’s the instructors too, isn’t there. They’d be jumpin’ I reckon, so that makes ten all told, plus the pilot of course, but he’ll be bringing the plane in to land, won’t he. So that’s it then, they’re all safe and sound, just needs to land ’em, now they do,” he scolded as he prepared to heave his massive bulk down from the roof of the bus which was already groaning under his weight.

  “I don’t think all of them have opened their chutes yet,” Mary muttered.

  “What?” Bernard replied. “Course they have, I counted them all out, remember?”

  “Well why’s that one on the end and the two behind them going twice as fast as the others then?” Mary asked. She had opened up a much smaller and less powerful set of fold up binoculars, but even so, there was no disputing the facts, there did seem to be one flailing around up there and another two diving after them. The rest of the party could just about make out the numbers with the naked eye, if they concentrated.

  Bernard picked up his binoculars again and tried to zoom in on the parachutists, following the direction that Mary was pointing in.

  “Ooh, crikey-me. That’s that one what came out sideways, that one’s definitely in trouble. I reckon that’s the instructor that other one there, he’s aiming for that sideways one, comin’ in fast he is. I don’t think the first one knows how the controls do work, I don’t.” He was silent for a moment. “Well, it took ’em long enough,” he crowed. “Them last three ’as just put their chutes up now, there’s twelve of ’em up there, all in all.”

  “Well, there would be, wouldn’t there,” the vicar added, as he shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun and concentrated his attention skywards. “Don’t forget there are a couple of camera men with them too, plus the eight jumpers and the two instructors. That’s twelve by my reckoning.”

  “The first one’s nearly down already,” Hetty commented. “It’s not Crystal though, too short. Can you see which one she is Bernard?” she asked, as she bit into a chicken paste sandwich. “Please don’t tell me that she’s the one out of control, I don’t think I could cope with that, not at my age.”

  Bernard frowned. “Well, that one over there seems to be circling a bit, like in a spiral. Doesn’t look to be in control like the others is.” He fiddled with the focus on the lens, trying to get a better view. “Uh, oh. I can see it a bit clearer now. There’s a big chunk of the orange suit flapping about loose, might have got itself tangled up a bit, by the looks of it. They is swishing their legs about a bit, that one. Looks a bit odd, if you ask me.” He swallowed hard, looked at Hetty and closed his mouth with a snap.

  “Can you see who it is Bernard?” Hetty asked.

  “No,” Bernard lied as he put the binoculars down on the roof of the minibus with a resounding thump.

  “Perhaps it’s the camera man?” Mary offered. “I’ve always thought it looks very difficult trying to do the two jobs at once, you know, holding the camera and managing the parachute jump all at the same time, looks very complicated,” she added.

  “Here comes Jazz,” Mark commented, as he swung around to watch a tall loose-limbed figure making his way towards them across the grass.

  “He’ll know who it is,” Hetty commented, unnecessarily.

  Jazz’s face was set and forbidding when he did reach them. “If he doesn’t get her out of that spin and in control of her chute in the next ten seconds, I’ll tear him limb from limb when he does land,” Jazz muttered grimly as he drew level with them.

  “So, it is Crystal then, that one in trouble?” Hetty asked.

  Jazz bent to kiss Hetty on the cheek, “At the moment, it doesn’t look good Hetty, and yes, it’s Crystal. I reckon her steering is jammed, that’s what it looks like from here.” He confirmed. “It looks like the instructor is on her though; he’s trying to control her descent. He’s in very close, I reckon he’s shouting instructions at her. He’s near enough.”

  “She’s struggling to grab a hold of something,” Bernard reported, squinting and twiddling the lenses on the binoculars, yet again.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he yelled, “she’s got it, she’s done it. I can see her holding on properly now, the canopy has righted itself, it’s levelling out now, she’s straightened it out.”

  The vicar gave a silent glance up to heaven and stopped muttering under his breath. “Thank the Lord,” was all that he said.

  “I’ll drink to that, vicar,” the organist answered as he reached for his glass.

  “How many are down now?” Mary asked her husband as she reached for a glass of white wine and much to Peter’s surprise, downed the lot, all in one go.

  “Most of them, five, six maybe. There’s three more over there, just coming in, and then there’s that last three, the ones with Crystal, they’re coming in close now and they’re going to land nearer to us, over this way,” the vicar answered.

  Hetty took her eyes away from the sky long enough to glance at the vicar. “I’ve never been more in need of a miracle in my entire life, Peter, than I have right now,” she joked, with a wobbly laugh. “Just ask the Lord to bring her safely down, for me, would you please? I can’t take any more surprises today.”

  “I think He’s heard us already, Hetty,” Peter replied. “Look, here she comes and the instructor behind her too. They’ll be landing in a matter of seconds now.”

  “Bloody hell,” Bernard muttered, as in clear view of the crowd, the second parachutist made a faultless landing, gathered his chute in record time and marched over to where Crystal was still struggling to untangle herself from the harness. As he pulled her clear from the rigging he hauled her round and into his arms, where he quite clearly
lowered his head to hers with studied intent and kissed her full on the mouth. There was no mistaking the instructor’s actions and no sign of even a token resistance from Crystal, the two participants were locked together in a very close cinch.

  A muscle worked, high up on Jazz’s cheek as he fought to control his features. His jaw set in a grim line, if he’d been cross before, his expression was glacial now as he watched the scene in front of his own eyes.

  “Fuck me… what’s going on out there?” Mark stuttered, completely aghast as he zeroed in on the shenanigans in the middle of the airfield. “Is she doing what I think she’s doing?” he asked, unable to prevent himself from voicing his surprise.

  Ruth attempted to ‘round up’ their two children, Luke and Milo, who were watching their aunt intently.

  “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…” Milo parroted, running in circles imitating the flying motion of an aeroplane and flashing a Machiavellian grin in the direction of his grandmother, as he repeated words which he clearly guessed were forbidden. Ruth shot her husband a filthy look from under her lashes. “Language Mark,” she remonstrated as she increased her attempt to distract the children’s attention. “Milo, stop that! Quiet. Luke, come on over here and bring your brother with you, look, I have chocolate here boys, it’s hot today, so you’d better make sure that you eat it now before it all melts,” she offered.