Versace Sisters

by Cate Kendall

  Sam scanned the area around him. His eyes rested on a large silver serving platter. The hole was the size of a bowling ball. The platter might just do it. He approached the tear in the floor and slapped the tray down. It immediately buckled in the centre as the suction tried to pull it out.

  Sam returned to Bella and gratefully accepted the oxygen mask from her. She in turn took Asif's from his outstretched hand.

  'We need more of a barrier, that's not going to be enough,' Sam said. 'It'll be sucked out any minute.'

  'The seats?' Bella suggested.

  'Do they come off?' Sam asked.

  'We can try,' Bella said and Asif nodded, his face as white as the laminate on the cupboard doors of the galley. 'The captain should have us at a safe altitude within minutes,' she added.

  Just then a high-pitched scream came from the business class section. 'Shot at shot at shot at!' The wails came louder and louder.

  'We've got a situation back there,' Sam told Bella and Asif. 'A guy's completely lost it. You guys work on releasing one of the seats. I'll go and see what I can do with the panicked one.'

  As Sam went past his own seat, he glanced over at Steven Blakely, who was texting again. Who could think of work at a time like this?

  The businessman was up and standing in the aisle. He saw Sam coming and pushed into him. 'Parachute, I need a parachute, I need to get off this plane. WE'RE GOING DOWN, DO YOU HEAR ME, WE'RE GOING DOWN!'

  Sam knew panic was more infectious than any disease and potentially more deadly. The other passengers joined in with the hysterical screaming and clung to each other in desperation.

  Sam grabbed the man by the shoulders. 'We're not going down. The captain has the plane under control. We're about to hit breathable altitude, but you need to sit down and get your mask on.' Sam grabbed the man's mask and gulped a lungful with the intention of handing it over and placing it on the passenger's head.

  'No!' The man screamed in terror. 'That's mine, that's my oxygen, give it here, give it to me.' His powerful arms thrashed out. Sam ducked but got the bloke's forearm in the ear and side of his head. Stars swam in front of his eyes for a moment before he regained clarity.

  'For God's sake, calm down,' Sam said. He put his arms out to steady the guy but again, the man tried to punch him. Sam defended himself by landing a crack on the guy's nose. The man's head ricocheted back, his eyes swum back into his skull and he sank down into his seat into blissful unconsciousness. Sam, after taking one more breath, put the oxygen mask over the man's now relaxed face and rushed back to the first-class section.

  Bella and Asif were wrestling with a crew seat. 'It's only two large bolts, here and here, and we can get it off,' Bella said, offering the small spanner to Sam. He quickly unscrewed the first bolt but the second one was jammed.

  His thumb caught in between the seat and the bolt as the fastener folded back onto itself, catching Sam's thumb in its grip. He swore as the blood sprang from his hand. An eerie crunch forced Sam and Bella to look at the hole. The heavy stainless steel tray was sucked out like a sheet of tinfoil. Only a curved lip of metal remained visible. 'It's gonna suck through,' Sam shouted.

  The trio pulled on the seat until the second bolt snapped. They grabbed the seat and flung it over the silver tray just as it was sucked out into the baggage hold, which presumably had a hole in its side much bigger than the one in the cabin. The vacuum from the hole greedily grabbed the seat and it held fast.

  The captain's voice filled the now quieter cabin. 'Ladies and gentlemen, we are flying at fourteen hundred feet. The cabin should be filling with oxygen but I highly recommend you keep your oxygen masks on until we land. We have emergency clearance at Darwin International Airport and we will be landing in approximately six minutes.'

  The passengers gave a half-hearted cheer, but weren't prepared to really believe they were safe until they were on solid ground.

  The calloused thumb of Steven Blakely spread the word of the hopeful conclusion of the drama to fifty million readers, viewers and listeners within twenty-seven seconds.

  .

  ~ 58 ~

  Chris Bath continued to look out at her unseen audience in concern as she repeated the same words she'd been saying for the last fifteen minutes. Sera and Tony stood in the middle of the living room, transfixed by her commentary. They were holding their breath, for the next update, each in their own bubble of worry, alone in their thoughts, not daring to let their imaginations play this drama out to its inevitable conclusion.

  A disembodied arm handed the newsreader a piece of paper. 'News just in,' the on-air reporter said to the camera. Sera and Tony grabbed for each other's hands. 'Air Australia Flight 96 has landed safely at Darwin International Airport. Reuters journalist Steven Blakely, on board at the time of the drama, reports that the hole in the airplane is likely to have been caused by an oxygen canister, similar to the incident aboard a Qantas 747 last year. One passenger has been reported as injured and one crew member has also suffered minor injuries. To repeat, the air emergency is over. The Air Australia flight, on which an explosion took place thirteen minutes ago, has landed safely in Darwin.

  'If you've just tuned in, late this afternoon on a routine Air Australia flight to Hong Kong . . .'

  Sera felt her knees buckle in relief. Sheer nervous tension had been all that had kept her standing for the last thirty minutes. Tony sensed her weakness and leaned in with strong arms to support her weight. His solid presence allowed her the safe place to unleash and the tears flowed. She was so lucky to have him, to have this beautiful supportive man here by her side during such a traumatic moment. She needed him so much right now and, as always, he was here. She felt a sudden rush of horror. What if it had been him on that plane? She sobbed into his arms for what might have been and out of relief for what hadn't.

  Maddy and Harry came running down the stairs into the room. 'Mum, what's wrong? Why are you crying?' Maddy demanded. 'Why are you sad?' Harry asked.

  'They're not sad tears, darling,' Sera said and she peeped out from her husband's embrace. 'Happy tears.'

  *

  The fright was over. They were safe. Joan stripped off her gloves and hurried home to be with her family. Jacqueline turned off the television and leaned against the wall in sheer exhaustion. Everything became so clear. In the last thirty minutes her list of priorities had just been thrown into the air like a deck of cards and had landed in a completely different order.

  Suddenly petits fours, puff pastry and BAS statements seemed petty and irrelevant, and re-connecting with her family stood on the top like a beacon.

  She walked down the corridor and leaned on the study door to look fondly at her husband. He had been glued to the television like the rest of the country, and was watching the passengers disembark.

  She moved across the room and knelt at his feet. He dragged his eyes away from the screen in surprise. 'What?' he asked.

  Jacqueline turned away from him and, sitting on the floor with her back against the couch, said, 'I'd love a massage.'

  'Oh, sure, dear,' Thomas said and his strong, gentle hands kneaded the drama's stresses from his wife's shoulders while they watched a passenger being wheeled away on an ambulance gurney.

  *

  Mallory squealed and cheered with the rest of the patients, nurses and physios who'd come in to watch the drama unfold on the only screen in the clinic. She gabbled explanations to all present about her relationship with those on board. Her audience hungrily gobbled up the story of Sam being a last-minute passenger.

  She was so happy, so ridiculously joyous and happy! She couldn't describe it to herself. She'd been so black and dark and miserable and, well, quite frankly, depressed lately, that this wonderful feeling of gaiety was intoxicating by comparison. Forget about walking, she felt like she could fly!

  What a waste of energy being bitter about Vince and his pregnant girlfriend. Who gave a shit about them anyway? Live and let live: let them play their happy families, let them live their
lives. All Mallory could think about was that Sam and Bella were safe, that the plane full of people were alive and that the terrible crisis had ended.

  'Hey, Francesca,' she said, 'check this out,' and she picked up her crutches. She did ten steps across the room before her body needed to support itself on the metal frames.

  'Wonderful!' her therapist cried out and the room cheered her on.

  *

  Chantrea sank into one of the lounges at Gate 10, away from the hordes still glued to the screen. It was every flight attendant's nightmare. Thank God it was over. She shook her head in shame. She'd been such a selfish cow. What if that had been her on that flight? What if it hadn't turned out well? Her mother would raise Sally and Chantrea had to be one hundred percent convinced that was a good thing. Her mother was a wonderful woman; yes, raised in a different time, in a different place, in a different culture, but both Dara Kim and Chantrea had one very solid thing in common: they loved Sally fiercely and would do anything for her. All Dara Kim wanted was what Chantrea wanted: for the little girl to grow into a well-rounded, happy, confident young woman.

  It was time to tell Sally about her surprise birthday adventure. Chantrea leapt up and rushed to a quiet corner so she could use her phone to break the exciting news to her daughter. She wanted to speak to her mother too. She needed to tell her how much she loved and respected her. It was a task that was well overdue.

  ~ 59 ~

  It was Sam's idea. The group was shaken by the mid-air ordeal and needed to bond. Funnily enough, Bella and Sam, as the main characters in the drama, were less rattled than the rest of them.

  Perhaps it was having been there, having survived it together, that made them less affected than the others. Of course it could have had something to do with the fact they had spent the remainder of the weekend in bed together at the Crowne Plaza Darwin and had thought of little else but each other since.

  Whatever the reason, Sam knew that it was up to him to host an emergency extra Stitch 'n' Bitch evening so that everybody could come over, hug each other, re-group and reassure themselves that Sam and Bella were fine. It had been a week since he'd returned and the catch-up was long overdue.

  The December evening was warm as they collected for pre-purl drinks in Sam's vegetable garden. The women oohed and ahhed over Sam's garden creation, the summer growth shooting a fine show for the group.

  'Here's the fun bit,' Sam explained. 'Your hors d'oeuvres,' and he picked a snow pea from the trellis and popped it in his mouth. 'Cherry tomato, anyone?' he said, gesturing at the garden bed behind them, where the bright red baubles against the lush green growth shone like Christmas decorations.

  After the group had feasted on the organic beans, strawberries, tomatoes and peas they moved inside to take up their knitting. They were far more industrious nowadays than they'd been in the beginning. The real reason for their charity work had been pushed to the fore given recent events and they were all determined to supply a range of completed knitted goods to Woollies for Wars in time for the Christmas dispatch.

  Joan had given them a real rev-up too, teaching them a range of new skills. Jacqueline was on her tenth beanie, having long ago discarded Thomas's argyle sweater. Sera was making her third children's blanket in a good quality merino, while Chantrea had found woollen bed socks to be her forte.

  'So, Sam-the-Man,' Chantrea started with a twinkle in her eye, 'how'd it go with Bella?'

  'Nope!' Sam held up a flat palmed hand, 'you can all stop right there. I do not kiss and tell. Or, in this particular case, have the hottest, most delicious sex for twenty-four hours straight . . . and tell.'

  The women stopped their knitting as utter silence descended on the group. They looked at him with dropped jaws. Chantrea finally broke the silence, voicing everyone's thoughts: 'I am so effing jealous.'

  They laughed out loud, fully agreeing with her sentiment. Even Joan nodded, wide-eyed, with an embarrassed flush creeping up her neck.

  'Would you mind? That's my sister you're talking about,' Sera interjected.

  'Not talking about,' Sam corrected her. 'You can hassle me all you want, but no details will be forthcoming. End of story.' He picked up his scarf. He was casting off a thick wool wrap. 'Ta-dah,' he announced, holding up his finished piece.

  The room broke into applause. 'Absolutely tremendous. Now: tassles,' Joan said, and got up to sit by Sam in order to teach him a whole new skill.

  'Well, can we at least ask where she is?' Chantrea said.

  'Apparently a roster stops for no man or woman in that industry,' Sera explained. 'She had to have a few counselling sessions with the airline then start the LA run again. But she really wished she could have come, and you know what? This time I believed her.'

  Just then Sam's phone rang. He grinned like a schoolboy. 'It's her!' he said and answered the phone on speaker. 'Hi Bella, you're on speaker, so no dirty talk.'

  'I beg your pardon!' came Bella's voice over the phone. 'Hi everyone!'

  'Hi Bella,' they all chorused.

  'Hey listen team, Asif and I are at this crazy Versace sale and of course I thought of you all. Anything and everything's here at ridiculous prices. So how about it, little sister, what can I get you?'

  Everybody squealed and tossed their knitting aside.

  'Gosh, I don't know, Bella,' said Sera. 'By the way, I spoke to Mum, she's feeling a lot better, now her cold's gone.'

  'Great news, thanks,' Bella replied.

  'Anyway, what is there?' Sera leaned towards Sam's phone, sitting on the coffee table, as the catcalls and screeches from the warehouse district of LA echoed around the Bondi Junction living room.

  'Belts? Bags? Tops? Frocks? You name it. What about a tee?' offered Bella.

  'Nah, I think I'm over labels at the moment,' said Sera, to her sister's surprise. 'What about Chantrea?'

  'Chantrea,' Bella said, 'there's this purple lycra skintight dress that'd you'd love.'

  'Thanks for thinking of me, Bel, but I'm budgeting.'

  'Mallory? You there?' Bella asked.

  'Yeah, I'm here, but I'm fine, Bella, really, I can't really spend up at the moment.'

  'What, so none of you want to take advantage of this incredible sale?'

  'Er hem,' Jacqueline tried not to call attention to herself as she called attention to herself.

  'Oh, Jac might,' Sera said.

  'Jacqueline?' Bella asked, unable to hide the surprise from her voice.

  'I'm . . . er . . . not usually into Versace, it's a bit flashy. Does anything come in navy?'

  Bella laughed across the phone waves. 'Versace comes in two colours, darling: glitz and glitzier.'

  'Well, no then . . .' Jacqueline said, tucking her ballet flats firmly under her seat.

  'Oh, go on, Jac,' Sera encouraged. 'Don't you have that Bakers' Conference coming up? You could wow them with a bit of glamour.'

  'Well yes, I do,' she admitted slowly, 'and I would like to splurge on a little something for the new me, as it were.'

  'Jacqueline, hang on,' Bella said, 'I've got a dress here that would be divine on you. It's gold, of course, but no sequins. It's a satin off-the-shoulder full-length number that clings but not tightly. It would be divine with your colouring.'

  'Oh my, it sounds heavenly,' Jacqueline said, beaming. 'How much?'

  'Two and a half down to, ohmigod, four hundred!'

  'Get it, get it!' Jacqueline squealed, the bargain frenzy infecting even her.

  'Okay, done, anybody else?'

  Sera looked around the room. 'Joan, get something for Joan.'

  'Oh, don't be ridiculous, Sera, they'd laugh at size sixteen. You'd have to sew two frocks together and it still wouldn't fit,' the older woman protested.

  'Bags, heaps of bags, what colour?' Bella called out.

  'NOT BLACK!' Sera, Chantrea and Jacqueline all yelled at once.

  Joan looked quite miffed at their response.

  'Red?'

  'Yes,' Sera said, 'that will be brilliant.'
<
br />   'Red? But I don't own any red,' Joan protested.

  'Joan, you don't carry a red bag with red, you carry a red bag with taupe,' Sera explained.

  'Oh,' Joan, said slightly mollified. 'I've got tons of taupe.'

  'Sounds great, Bel, good work, thanks for the call.'

  *

  Back in Bella's hotel room in LA, the two shoppers sorted through their purchases.

  'Look at me, I'm a supermodel,' Asif announced as he came out of the bathroom in his new Versace suit teamed with wasabi shirt and tie combo.

  'You are, you're drop-dead gorgeous,' Bella agreed.

  'Whatjaget, whatjaget?' he chanted as she opened up her parcels.

  'Beautiful dress for Jac, great bag for Joan, I bought Sera a little top for Chrissie, and a couple of belts and shirts for Sam.'

  'For your boooyyyfriend,' Asif sang, fluttering around the room in a circle like an executive fairy.

  'Shut up, Asif,' she said as she packed everything up.

  'What about you, what did you get?'

  'Nothing,' Bella said.

  'What?' Asif stopped mid-ponce. 'What do you mean, nothing?'

  'Nothing. Didn't feel like it.'

  'You're not quitting designer, are you?'

  'Well, I'm not starting the twelve-step program just yet, don't worry. I just thought I might start saving up for a terrace in Paddington, so I can be close to home.'

  ~ 60 ~

  'I can't believe we're standing outside the Elephant Bar,' Chantrea squealed with excitement. 'It's one of the most famous bars in the world, you know!'

  'Of course I know,' her mother scolded. 'Your father and I were well-known here when we were in our twenties,' she said with pride. 'Often the manager would pay for our drinks, he held us in such high esteem.'

  'Really, Mum?' Chantrea asked. 'That's amazing. You were quite famous, weren't you?'