The Perfect Holiday

by Cathy Kelly

  Claire was rigid with fear beside him. ‘Shut up,’ she wanted to say. ‘This is terrifying, we’re all going to die.’ But she said nothing because her voice didn’t work any more.

  She had never known such fear. The plane dived like a whale in the sea, and then jerked up again endlessly. Bits of luggage rolled up and down the aisles. Though she clung to Anthony’s hand tightly, it wasn’t enough. Even he couldn’t save them.

  She thought of recent plane crashes and an article she’d seen in the paper about thunderstorms, turbulence and crashes. She hadn’t read the article, but it must have been a sad story. Papers didn’t print good news. It was clear: they were going to die. All she could think of were her babies. The babies she dreamed about. At least they weren’t with her now. It would be unbearable to have them sit with her on a crashing plane and not be able to save them.

  Jessica didn’t get to the airsickness bag in time. She threw up on to the seat beside her. She didn’t care. Pure terror raced through her. The plane swooped and shuddered again. Every time it nosed up, it seemed to nose down again into a more frightening loop. Down, dragging her stomach with it, then up with horrifying speed.

  The screaming was getting worse. It sounded like someone beside her was shrieking ‘no’. And then Jessica realised it was her own voice. No, no, she didn’t want to die.

  ‘Why aren’t they telling us anything?’ demanded Anthony hoarsely.

  Despite her panic, Claire thought the flight crew were probably all just as terrified as the passengers. She could see the top of one of the stewardess’ heads as she sat in her seat. She wished she could see the woman’s face. Was she scared? Was this normal?

  At that moment, something clicked over her head and the oxygen mask dangled in front of her eyes. All along the plane, terrified people reached for the hanging masks and put them on.

  ‘The cabin hasn’t lost pressure, you do not need your mask,’ went an anxious announcement, but nobody listened.

  This was it, everyone thought: we’re going to crash.

  And then the swooping stopped. The plane made a few mild judders and calmed. Claire sat as still as she could in her seat, afraid her movement might start the plane rocking again. But no.

  The public address system pinged on.

  ‘This is Captain Ryan speaking.’ He sounded calm, as if nothing had happened.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ he said. ‘We were warned of some turbulence, but we didn’t expect it to be that bad. It was a bumpy ride. The cabin crew will shortly be moving among you, checking everyone’s all right.’

  ‘Typical,’ said Pat. ‘Make it all sound like a blip and none of us will sue.’

  Claire shot him a look of dislike. ‘We’re all right,’ she said. ‘That’s all that matters. How can you talk about suing anyone?’

  ‘But look at what we went through,’ said Pat. ‘We need compensation for that.’

  ‘Oh, shut up, Pat,’ yelled Tricia. ‘Claire’s right, we’re safe.’

  Humbled, Pat began to mumble about how he was ‘only saying…’

  He reached down and hauled up his brandy bottles. Miraculously, neither of them was broken. ‘I don’t care if we’re not supposed to drink our duty-free on the plane,’ he said. ‘I reckon after that ride, I need a snifter.’

  Claire’s pulse was still racing and yet when Pat unscrewed the bottle, her heart began to slow down. It was as if everything was in slow motion. She watched Pat take a huge gulp of the raw liquor, and then another. He wiped the top of the bottle with his hand and passed it across her to Anthony, man to man. She watched Anthony’s hand grab the bottle and saw him raise it to his lips. His eyes were shut as he drank. But the change in him was like watching the sun go behind clouds. He drank great gulps, as if he was thirsty and it was water instead of brandy.

  ‘Leave a drop for me,’ said Pat in alarm. And then added, ‘Ah, I suppose I have another bottle, after all.’ He reached for the second bottle and started on that.

  Claire clicked her seatbelt off and hauled herself out past Pat.

  ‘The seatbelt sign is still on,’ said a pale-faced stewardess when Claire reached the toilets.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Claire, ‘I’m going to throw up.’

  The light in the toilets was bright. Everything looked astonishingly real. Even the scent of chemical loo stuff was strangely wonderful. Life was still hers. Somehow, the plane hadn’t plummeted to the ground.

  Was this the born-again feeling people had after a near-death experience?

  She felt so very alive. And sad at the same time.

  She’d clung to Anthony’s hand as the plane had swooped. She’d thought that being together was the only important thing at that moment. But for Anthony, the only important thing had been the brandy. He hadn’t turned to her to kiss her when the plane stopped diving. He’d turned to Pat’s bottle. He always would.

  Jessica could smell the stench of her own vomit and yet she didn’t care. Human beings threw up, the same way babies pooped in nappies. It was the way of the world. Life and death. Life was precious.

  The woman behind her was still screaming. Jessica stood up, turned around and tried to comfort her.

  ‘It’s all right,’ she said calmly.

  Two teenage girls sat beside the woman, holding her hands tightly and looking shocked at their mother’s behaviour.

  ‘We’re going to be fine now. The captain said so,’ Jessica said calmly.

  The woman still screamed.

  ‘Slapping might help,’ said one of the girls.

  ‘Just a little slap,’ Jessica agreed.

  The slap startled the woman into silence.

  ‘We’re fine now,’ Jessica said again.

  The woman started to cry instead. ‘That’s better,’ Jessica said to the girls. ‘If you have something sweet to drink, like lemonade, that would be good for you all. Sugar helps.’

  A Diet Coke was produced and they all had some.

  ‘I’ve a Mars bar,’ said the younger daughter.

  She broke it into four bits. Jessica had never tasted anything so wonderful.

  ‘When we land, I’m going to buy ten of these,’ she said fervently.

  ‘Me too,’ said the younger girl. ‘I was on a diet, but what’s the point of being thin if you’re dead, right?’

  Finally, the woman seemed to come out of her trance. ‘Thank you,’ she mumbled to Jessica. She hugged her daughters. ‘It was awful, I thought we were going to die.’

  For some reason, Sarah’s remark about how you never knew what was around the corner came into Jessica’s mind. It had been a turbulent plane instead of a ten-ton truck. The effect had been the same: the plane journey had shaken something out of Jessica’s mind for good.

  She thought of getting home with her ten Mars bars and sitting down in her own living room. She imagined picking up her phone and calling her beloved sons to tell them about her plane journey. She had a lot to live for.

  Chloe held her hand out and watched it vibrate.

  ‘I can’t stop shaking,’ she said. ‘I’m so thirsty, too. Do you think they’ll come round with the drinks again?’

  Tea, thought Susie. I want a nice cup of tea in my kitchen with Mum and Dad and Finn. And a pizza takeaway, and maybe we could all watch a DVD afterwards, something soothing.

  ‘I’d love a cup of tea,’ she said.

  Chloe looked up the aisle. The cabin crew were trying to calm people who were still upset. The air stank of vomit and spilled drinks. She didn’t think the tea trolley would be top priority for a while.

  ‘Should we get up and make tea ourselves?’ she suggested. ‘I’ve always wanted a go of the trolley.’

  Susie looked at her and they both giggled. They weren’t sure why, but suddenly they were laughing so much that Susie’s stomach hurt.

  ‘That’s so funny,’ shrieked Chloe.

  ‘I know!’ roared Susie.

  ‘You know what? We’re alive!!’ Chloe yelled suddenly.

  Behind
them, someone clapped.

  ‘We’re alive!!’ shouted someone else.

  It was like a football chant running down the cabin. ‘We’re alive.’

  ‘Do you know what I’m going to do when I land?’ Susie said when she’d stopped laughing.

  ‘Kiss the ground, the way the last Pope did?’ Chloe asked. ‘’Cos that’s what I’m going to do.’

  Susie grinned. ‘No, I’m going to tell Finn about Lucas.’

  ‘You’re kidding me, right?’

  ‘I’m not kidding. I thought of it when we were going up and down, that I love Finn so much and I want him to know me, the good and the bad of me. And if he can’t deal with that, then we shouldn’t be together.’

  ‘Did the turbulence wreck your brain?’

  ‘Actually, it fixed it. We could have died, Chloe. Think about it. We only get one chance at life, so let’s do it right.’

  ‘What’s that got to do with telling your fiancé you slept with another man?’

  ‘I don’t know why you never thought about a career in law,’ Susie grumbled. ‘I can see you doing the whole “case for the prosecution” thing.’

  Chloe laughed.

  ‘I’m going to be a stewardess, remember?’ she said, and they both laughed again.

  ‘Oh, go on, tell Finn the truth,’ Chloe said. ‘We nearly died, after all. If he can’t forgive you now, there’s no hope for you.’

  Getting off the plane, Anthony held on to Pat’s brandy bottle as if it were a lifebuoy.

  ‘You’re my mate, Pat,’ he said, walking alongside his new best friend.

  Claire had to help Tricia with the kids. Millie was now asleep in her mother’s arms after her terrifying ordeal. Fiona was silent. She held Claire’s hand and didn’t utter a word. She was clearly traumatised.

  ‘You can’t blame them for having a drink,’ Tricia said, trying to carry all the children’s things along with her own carry-on case. Laden-down, the two women followed their swaying husbands.

  Claire didn’t answer that. She actually blamed herself for thinking Anthony could change. He might want to, but he wasn’t strong enough. It was that simple.

  Concerned airport staff greeted the passengers.

  ‘You should talk to them,’ Claire said to Tricia. ‘Perhaps they have some advice on what to do about the children. That must have been so frightening for them.’

  Tricia nodded and hugged Millie closer to her.

  One group of people were boldly demanding ‘What about compensation? Was the plane faulty? Was that why the oxygen masks came down?’ As if compensation would help.

  Claire avoided them. Incredibly, nobody was hurt and nobody had suffered a heart attack. She had no time for people who expected financial profit for every bit of misery. Life hurt. There was no compensation for that, right?

  The terrifying flight would probably make the next day’s papers. Some of the angry passengers were busily phoning newspapers, talking to reporters about what had happened.

  Anthony and Pat were making drunken plans to meet up soon for a drink.

  ‘We’ll never forget each other after this,’ Anthony said. He gave Pat a thump on the back.

  ‘No, never,’ Pat agreed.

  Claire pulled Anthony and his bottle away from Pat.

  ‘Let’s go,’ she said quietly, but with steel in her voice. She told the airport staff that she and her husband were fine, and they set off across the airport for the baggage reclaim area.

  Jessica walked off the plane with her three new friends, the teenage girls and their mother.

  ‘I’m glad Dad wasn’t on the plane,’ the younger girl explained. ‘He had a heart attack last year and he might have had one on the plane, don’t you think?’

  ‘He might have,’ Jessica said. ‘But he wasn’t on the plane. We were and we’re safe. All’s well that ends well. You’ll have something interesting to write in essays when you go back to school,’ she added. ‘Do you still do those “What I did on my summer holidays” essays?’

  Both girls laughed.

  ‘No,’ said the older girl. ‘We have to do boring ones about global warming, or “Is nuclear energy the future or the past?”’

  Jessica grinned. ‘They’re both pretty awful,’ she said. ‘What you did on your summer holidays sounds much better.’

  A member of the ground staff came up to them and spoke to Jessica.

  ‘Madam, how are you?’ She took Jessica’s hands and led her to a chair as if she were an old lady.

  ‘I’m fine,’ said Jessica. ‘Nothing wrong with me that a good cup of tea wouldn’t cure. Or,’ she smiled at the teenage girls, ‘a Mars bar.’

  ‘I think I’ve aged. Doesn’t something scary make you age? Like making your hair turn white?’ Chloe was in the ladies toilet peering at her face in the mirror. ‘See, look.’ She pointed at a minuscule wrinkle. ‘That wasn’t there yesterday.’

  ‘Oh my God yes! You’re deformed!’ said Susie, leaning close.

  ‘Cow,’ said Chloe, pushing her away.

  ‘Smoking and sunbathing make you age,’ Susie said, ‘which is exactly what we’ve been doing for the past two weeks, so we’ve only ourselves to blame.’

  ‘That only happens to old people,’ Chloe said coolly. ‘I’d love a cigarette now. Hurry up and let’s get our bags. I want to have a fag outside.’

  Anthony had filed the long-term car park number in the diary section of his mobile phone. But somewhere between getting off the plane and getting on to the bus to the car park at Dublin airport, he’d lost his phone.

  He slowly searched his pockets again on the bus. ‘Dunno,’ he said and hiccupped. ‘Dunno where it went.’

  Claire didn’t lose her temper with him. She knew she had to keep her anger inside. It was too huge to let out.

  In the end, she asked the car park attendant which part of the car park had been open the day they’d left.

  He consulted a colleague on the phone. ‘Area K,’ he said.

  ‘K! That’s it!’ said Anthony happily. ‘I knew I’d remember it if someone told me.’

  He waited with the suitcases while Claire found the car and drove back to him.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, suddenly gazing at her with his big sad eyes.

  Claire didn’t want to heal the pain inside them any more.

  Sometimes when he drank, she tried to take the bottle away from him. Today, she let him finish the brandy as they drove across the city to Bray. Everything in the car reeked of alcohol. Claire couldn’t wait to get home to shower and change. But not yet.

  Anthony dozed and only woke up when Claire stopped the car.

  ‘My mum’s house!’ he said, pleased.

  He was so drunk, he’d be delighted if she’d brought him to a top-security prison, Claire decided.

  Anthony’s father, Larry, answered the door. He was surprised to see his son and daughter-in-law.

  ‘The plane nearly crashed,’ Anthony said merrily, throwing his arms round his father.

  Larry’s eyes met Claire’s.

  ‘It was a terrible flight,’ Claire said. ‘Anthony’s been drinking.’

  ‘Just a little bottle,’ Anthony said, waving the big, empty brandy bottle. He lifted it to his lips but there was nothing left.

  His mother, Reenie, came out of the kitchen at that moment. She was wearing an apron and the smell of roast chicken followed her. Her face fell when she saw how drunk Anthony was.

  Claire went back to the car and pulled out her husband’s suitcase. His was always smaller than hers. She remembered the good-humoured joking when they were packing to go to Corfu. Her heart ached, but she couldn’t go back now.

  She’d seen what Tricia had settled for. Pat was opening a bottle when he should have been comforting his daughters after the turbulence. His first thought had been for himself. Perhaps he wasn’t as much of a drinker as Anthony was, but he’d get there in the end. Claire could cope with that for herself, but not for her daughters or her sons. She wanted children
. She wanted a husband.

  ‘What are you doing?’ asked Reenie when she saw Claire holding Anthony’s suitcase.

  ‘What do you think?’ said Larry to his wife.

  Reenie sat down on a chair and buried her face in her hands.

  ‘I’m sorry, Reenie,’ said Claire. ‘I can’t live like this any more. I don’t want our marriage to come second to a bottle every time.’

  ‘He could go to rehab,’ Reenie said eagerly.

  ‘That would be great,’ Claire agreed.

  ‘He won’t do that,’ Larry pointed out. ‘I told him we’d get the money together somehow, but he said he couldn’t bear to go to one of those places. Then I told him about my old friend who went to Alcoholics Anonymous. He says he’d have gone back drinking if it wasn’t for AA. But Anthony said he didn’t like that idea either. Said he could do it himself. I don’t think he’s ready to stop.’

  Claire nodded. She didn’t think Anthony was ready to stop either.

  As she drove away, she wondered why she didn’t feel guilty about leaving Anthony. It was something to do with the plane journey, she realised. Until then, she’d felt responsible for her husband. It was her job to take care of him. To fix him. She had thought she could fix his alcoholism. But she couldn’t.

  People had so little power, she realised with stunning clarity. The plane had taught her that. Except for the pilot, nobody on the flight had any power over the turbulence. Even the pilot was helpless at first.

  It was entirely out of their hands whether they lived or died.

  She hadn’t failed Anthony by walking away. She was merely accepting that she wasn’t able to fix him. She could only fix herself.

  She felt sorry about the lovely Athena Hotel. It had been so beautiful, an oasis at the end of her marriage. She’d thought she and Anthony could go there again sometime, but now, she knew she would never go back. Never mind. Instead, she would go forward.

  Jessica’s hall was awash with junk mail when she pushed open the front door. So much for cancelling the post in case burglars knew she was away, she thought with a grin. Everything was exactly as she’d left it. Her few houseplants had all survived, thanks to being left in the bath with wet towels under them.