by Nesta Tuomey
‘I’ll go and ring,’ Captain Brennan heaved himself up. ‘Let’s hope it doesn’t mean late arrival of incoming aircraft,’ he laughed wryly. ‘Won’t be the first time.’
‘New to the Atlantic, aren’t you?’ the navigator asked Kay. ‘Since two weeks.’
‘Been up the Empire State?’
‘Not yet,’ she answered shortly, refusing to be caught a second time.
They were only half-full in tourist going home. There would be a lull until Easter stepped up the traffic again.
‘All happy back there,’ asked Captain Brennan when Kay went into the cockpit to ask him to lower the cabin lights. She nodded, concealing a yawn behind her hand.
‘You should be able to put up your feet when the lights are dimmed.’
He gave her a kindly glance before turning back to the controls. Pretty girl but a bit peaky, he thought. There was no denying the hostesses had it tough this trip. On the go the whole time. Still, they seemed to like it. His own daughter was mad to become an air hostess, couldn’t wait till she was twenty to apply.
On her way out of the cockpit the Navigator asked, ‘Any chance of coffee?’ He was finding it hard to keep awake having stayed out too late looking for some kind of hair tint for his wife and missed his nap.
‘Certainly,’ Kay told him. ‘I’ll tell the girls.’ She popped her head into the first-class galley and passed on the message. For her trouble, she received a slice of delicious mille feuilles which she took down with her to the back to enjoy in peace. She supposed there was something to be said for giving royal treatment to a small number of passengers in first class, rather than slaving over a couple of hundred in tourist but, given a choice, she infinitely preferred working in the friendly foursome at the back to queening it in solitary splendour with the senior.
When a little later she relaxed into a seat beside them, the other hostesses were already dead to the world. Tiredly, Kay closed her own eyes knowing she wouldn’t be able to sleep herself. She never could on a flight, even as a passenger. As they flew steadily on, the sky grew pale on the other side of the drawn blinds.
Soon it was time to begin setting up the breakfast trolley. When it was done, Kay took hold of one end and helped by the other hostess, guided it slowly forward. They moved from row to row awaking those still slumbering with a gently pressure on their shoulders, and set orange juice and cornflakes before them.
As they worked their way along the gradually awakening cabin, she and her partner chatted in low tired voices about clothes and make-up and which part of the world they wanted to go next on holidays. Since coming on the Atlantic it was the time Kay liked best with the passengers not yet fully awake and the night almost over, and only this last service to perform before coming in to land at Shannon.
FIFTY
Two hours later as Kay and her crew were being sped home in the crew car Graham was arriving at the airport. The day of departure had dawned at last and he was really on his way despite the many times he had been on the brink of calling it off. He entered the Departure Building and joined the queue to the ticket counter. No turning back now, he told himself firmly. In another hour he would be on his way to London, from there to board his flight for Karachi.
So far the snow had held off.
‘Not for too much longer, I imagine,’ he chatted to the pretty girl in the heather tweed uniform as she took his ticket.
She busied herself tearing out a section, stapling on his baggage stub. ‘Yes,’ she agreed, giving him a warm smile. ‘But you should get away all right, Captain Pender.’
‘Looks like it,’ he agreed, tucking his ticket into his wallet. He felt a reoccurrence of the loneliness hitting him all morning and experienced a desire, unusual for him, to make small talk. ‘Hope you won’t be too badly hit when it does decide to fall.’
‘Well it won’t be me,’ she laughed. ‘I’m off for the next two days. But thanks all the same.’
‘You’re okay then.’ He smiled and turned away, leaving her gazing admiringly after his tall figure.
Graham wandered in the direction of the bar. His flight was not due to take off till after eleven and it wasn’t even ten o’clock yet. He had deliberately left home well ahead of time knowing that Sile was only waiting for him to go before heading for the hairdressers. A decidedly more important engagement than seeing off a departing husband, he thought wryly.
‘Hope you don’t mind, darling,’ she had said. ‘But I made the appointment ages ago.’
Darling! What a travesty of the word, Graham thought. It never sounded so hollow in his ears as it did this morning when he was about to leave home for four months. Still he was glad she was taking an interest in her appearance again. This week Sile was almost back to her former glamorous self. Just as well, he acknowledged, or he could not in all conscience have left her.
The only person to know any of the details of Graham’s domestic upheaval was Ben Higgins and he was the soul of discretion. The other pilot had decently enough offered his support should Sile and the boys need it, while Graham was away in the east. His thoughtfulness had greatly helped ease the burden of guilt Graham felt at leaving his family.
He took a seat at the bar and ordered a whisky wondering if Kay were heading out today to America, or on her days off. Since he had stopped flying he was no longer aware of her movements. He had deliberately refrained from getting the new roster. What was the point? From now on, he told himself, she would be less and less in his thoughts. And at the prospect felt even lonelier, for thoughts were all he had.
Meeting her in New York had awakened feelings in him he would have preferred to forget and holding her in his arms and hearing her whisper of her unwavering belief that he would come to their meeting place, had moved him almost to the point of tears. What kind of man was he to have acted in such a heartless manner, he asked himself in despair. No wonder she had looked upon him with such disillusion at the last.
Kay’s air of finding him wanting that night in New York had hurt Graham the most. He had become so used to her unquestioning adoration that when she had turned away without a backward look, it had hurt like hell. He was painfully reminded of the suspicions he had entertained when her letter arrived to his house and how quickly, out of concern for his own hide, he had run out on her. Dropped her, he thought in shame, as if she were like the scheming hostess who had embroiled Joe Bradshaw or the avaricious bitch Elaine he had slept with before Christmas.
Graham had always known in his heart that Kay was not like any of the hostesses he had played round with in the past. For one thing she was a class above them. As well as being beautiful and sensuous she had integrity. It was what had intrigued him about her from the beginning and kept him coming back to her all these months. He shook his head regretfully. He had treated her shabbily. No doubt about that. Now he would give an awful lot to be able to ease his conscience. But maybe it wasn’t too late.
Quickly, he took a sheet of notepaper from his briefcase and began scribbling a letter to her. Somehow he couldn’t bear the thought of going away without contacting her just once more. Unconscious of the barman’s curious glance, he swiftly wrote, ‘Dear Kay,’ He paused, then taking another sheet, determinedly began again, thinking let there be no half-measures.
‘My dearest Kitty,’ he wrote instead. ‘My thoughts have been full of you since our meeting in New York and never more so than this morning as I leave for Karachi.’
His pen moved swiftly over the paper describing as eloquently as he knew how something of his appreciation of her which had come so late. That and a lot more he had not intended saying.
Damn it! He would let it stand. It was the very last time he would ever write such things to her and if they happened to meet in the future, it would be as strangers. Soberly, he signed his name and slipped the sheet into an envelope. Then with ten minutes to boarding time, he hurriedly left the Departure lounge and went in search of the one who had all along been the faithful conveyor of his messages t
o her.
He found him in the canteen with Joe, another of the crew drivers, enjoying his elevenses. Steve looked up as Captain Pender pushed through the swing doors. He hadn’t seen much of the pilot since his affair with Ava had ended. Steve grinned fondly. It’s what he always called the pretty dark-haired hostess. She was the spitting image of the filmstar, he thought.
The same shapely mouth and big sexy eyes. She had been his favourite pin-up ever since he was a kid.
They made a handsome couple, Captain Pender and herself, Steve considered. Both so dark and good-looking. He’d been really sorry when he realised they weren’t seeing each other anymore. Although happily married himself, Steve liked a bit of romance. Oho, maybe it’s on again, he thought, seeing the envelope in the pilot’s hand as he hurriedly approached.
‘Looking for me, Captain?’ Steve advanced to meet him.
‘Would you be good as to deliver this, Steve... the usual spot,’ Graham slipped a fiver across to him with the letter.
‘No need for that, Captain,’ Steve made to give it back but the pilot brushed it aside.
‘Take it. Get something for your little girl,’ he said brusquely. ‘Must dash or I’ll miss my flight.’
My, he was in a rush, Steve thought as the pilot almost ran from the building. He put the envelope in his pocket and returned to his table. Time enough to drop it over when his shift ended, he told himself. It was not as if Ava was likely to return to the airport today. If he hadn’t been in such a tearing hurry he could have told Captain Pender that he had just left her home with the rest of the Atlantic crew.
But heavy snow fell later that day almost paralysing the airport and as he battled back and forth in icy conditions, the letter completely slipped Steve’s mind. It wasn’t until Sunday morning as he sped back towards the airport with the Atlantic hostesses, that he remembered it again.
Parking the van, he searched his pockets but was unable to find it. Edel, he remembered in dismay. Oh God! the little terror. He had been playing with her the previous evening and, not too surprisingly, dozed off. Well, he had been on duty since he’d picked up the dawn London crew, Steve excused himself. When he jerked awake a few minutes later it was to find his wife beating down a flaring newssheet in the grate, and the contents of his pockets strewn about the floor.
Remembering, he bit his lip in dismay. Janey! It looked like the pilot’s letter had gone up in ruddy smoke. Well, here’s hoping it wasn’t anything important, he thought uneasily. He’d be in a right pickle if it was. Aw hell! Probably just a lot of sweet nothings, Steve consoled himself, and plenty more where they came from.
FIFTY ONE
Lucy Hendricks was one of the Atlantic hostesses that Steve brought to the airport that morning. When she checked the noticeboard she found a note addressed to her in Orla O’Neill’s sprawling handwriting, and reading the phrases ‘marvellous news’ and ‘absolutely over the moon’ realised with sinking heart, it could mean only one thing. Orla was going to marry Captain Simon Cooney.
In London, just back from winter leave, Maura found Elinor’s letter awaiting her in her mother’s flat and read of Simon’s engagement. The information that her former lover was actually going to marry Orla O’Neill came as a jolt, but surprisingly little pain. Maura was surprised at how little she minded. Perhaps it was because she had such a fantastic time on winter leave, she mused. The men she had met were charming and forceful, particularly Bob Dawson.
Maura had enjoyed her fling with the young Australian and learned that she could find pleasure in another man’s embrace. Bob’s love-making so tender and passionate, had made her realise how wrong she had been to put up with Simon’s two-timing for so long.
Now she took out the newspaper cutting which her mother had seen in The Times and saved for her return. Maura read it again though she knew it by heart.
‘Top Air Girl Wanted. Are you pretty, intelligent and resourceful with a knowledge of in-flight airline know-how? Able to assume command yet capable of being ‘one of the girls?’ Then Virgo Airways is looking for you. Top salary, free travel and company car to successful applicant. Apply giving qualifications and details of experience. Box 3215.
She slipped it back in her bag and wondered if she were mad to be considering leaving Celtic Airways. It seemed such a terrible waste of all the effort she had put into her job this past year.
But if she stayed?
One thing the few weeks away from the job had done for Maura was to give her a chance to take a long cool look at her career and assess her chances of success. Now she honestly acknowledged that she and the Chief Executive had never hit it off and almost certainly never would. She was too independent and outspoken ever to find favour with him and besides, he couldn’t bear having a woman tell him anything, no matter how sound the advice. Regardless of the issue he would always retaliate with the counter argument. Maura considered this a grave character flaw but she had the perspicacity to realise that it was only to her face that McGrattan would deny her good ideas, while making capital of them elsewhere.
What had she to lose, she asked herself. It was only the work of a few moments to phone the airline. If the position was filled then that was that!
And if it wasn’t? She narrowed her lids thoughtfully. Had she and Simon still been together, she would never have contemplated taking such a step but...
She sighed and shrugged. The way things stood there was nothing to hold her there any longer.
The following Monday, Kay was on her way out once more to New York and Captain Pender was long gone to the east. How did she know? Because Florrie had been on his London flight just before snow hit the airport, bringing everything to a standstill.
In the restroom everyone was buzzing with the news of Orla O’Neill’s engagement. The whole world was getting engaged, Kay thought bleakly, the whole world was happily in love except her.
‘But guess who it is,’ Bunny urged her, stretching the mystery. ‘Someone here at the airport.’
‘Dr Price,’ Kay said flatly, selecting the most unlikely man she could think of. Passionate Pricey with a bride, she thought cynically. Now that would be something to get excited over.
His new assistant was grey-haired and plump and didn’t look the sort to stand any nonsense, or inspire it either.
‘Don’t be thilly,’ Bunny said, but giggled to show she thought it funny all the same. ‘Simon Cooney!’ Kay cried, failing in her disgust to infuse the proper note of admiration in her tone.
‘But it’s so romantic - an air hostess and a pilot,’ Bunny insisted. ‘And guess what?’ She continued with her irritating guesswork. ‘Teddy’s back and his engagement to Carrie is OFF.’
‘Wonderful,’ Kay agreed dully. So Bunny’s vigil looked like paying off too.
‘And Sally met Eulogio on her Malaga overnight and he’s talking of a June wedding, so there may be a few more announcements in the group before we’re finished.’ Obviously Bunny envisaged herself one of that happy throng.
Out of habit, Kay checked the noticeboard but there was nothing from Graham despite the weak hopes she had nourished all weekend. So he had gone off without a word!
She drew back her shoulders and walked miserably to the canteen, stepping uncaringly in the melting snow. Against Graham’s indifference Kay felt bewildered and forsaken, and looking back over the past year her love affair seemed a paltry, deceiving thing shared by two strangers.
FIFTY TWO
Flying east, Graham was able for the first time to think of Kay without any of the turmoil he had experienced in the weeks after their breakup. By writing to her he felt he had made reparation, and was filled with a kind of peace. When she read his letter she would think less badly of him. Somehow that was of great importance to him.
In Moscow where they stopped to refuel, Graham watched the women in the pantaloons and saris dragging the hoses out to the plane. One young Madonna-faced girl, with her lissom figure and modest downcast look, disturbingly invoked Kay and he
found he could not take his eyes off her. His heart thudded painfully in his chest and he was so affected that he felt everyone near him must be aware of his agitation.
As they flew on over the Caspian Sea, with the flaming sky glowing in a last vivid burst of colour before nightfall, the memory so disturbing and erotic still haunted him.
Karachi, originally a little fishing village named after a dancer of great beauty, was a hot dry and dusty city squeezed between the desert and the Arabian sea. A month after he arrived, Graham sat in a small seafood restaurant in the harbour watching the frail crafts bobbing on the water and enjoying a delicious meal of kebabs on a bed of fluffy white rice. He often came here to eat when on stand-off, sometimes with two BEA pilots on loan like himself to the eastern airline.
John was from County Down and Ralph a Londoner. They were amiable enough fellows and a cut above the other pilots, whose main idea of relaxation was playing endless games of poker and randily discussing the chances of bedding the senior hostesses but tonight the pair of them were taking the service down to Madagascar and Graham was on his own.
He finished his meal and strolled thought the bazaars, stopping every so often, to watch the wrinkled old women trimming and putting the finishing touches to the carpets that had been woven in the villages. He had already picked up two such rugs for the hallway in his house, as well as a very beautiful Baluchi embroidered tablecloth.
He had one drink in the pilots’ mess before going to his room and was in bed before eleven o’clock. It was a pattern of his nights since coming to Karachi, although he had no need to be so solitary unless he wished it. There were some very attractive British girls hostessing the planes, as well as stunningly beautiful Eurasians. They had made it clear how much they admired him but he deliberately kept his distance. He rarely accompanied the European crew members when they headed off on expeditions to the beautiful beaches some forty kilometres from the city, knowing only too well that after a few hours relaxing in the sun they would head back to tour the city’s nightclubs, and almost certainly end up in each other’s rooms for the night. Graham was determined not to ease his loneliness by casual encounters, not having forgotten his lapse in New York with Elaine Rooney and the bitter self-disgust he had felt afterwards. Never again, he told himself sternly. It just wasn’t on! But it was tough going!
