Mile High Guy

by Marisa Mackle

  ‘Can you see anything about my childhood?’ she asks.

  ‘What, in the paper?’

  ‘No, silly, in my hand.’

  ‘But I’m not looking at your hand, Lydia.’

  ‘Oh please, can you just tell me a bit more?’

  God, I’ll be plagued for the rest of my life over this. I grab her hand. ‘You were very spoilt as a child, weren’t you?’

  ‘Wow, that’s so true,’ she says excitedly. ‘You are so talented. It’s a gift, isn’t it?’

  ‘Er . . . yes.’ Quite.

  Tania arrives down for a chat.

  Lydia tells her I tell fortunes.

  Tania looks thrilled and offers me her hand too.

  Jesus, what have I got myself into now?

  ‘This is a very happy time for you right now,’ I pretend to concentrate on her palm.

  How the hell do I think I’m going to get away with this?

  ‘You’ve definitely met the right man. But . . . there was a stage in your life when you wondered if you were ever going to meet that special person.’

  ‘You’ve got that so right,’ Tania sighs.

  Well, come on, what woman doesn’t wonder?

  ‘And there has been heartbreak,’ I say in a suitably sad voice.

  She nods silently.

  ‘But the other men in your life just weren’t meant to be, even though at the time you didn’t know it.’

  Tania isn’t speaking now. She’s gone very quiet. God, I hope she’s not going to cry or anything. That would be so embarrassing.

  ‘Your wedding will be a very happy occasion though. It will be a wonderful day for everybody. Don’t worry about it. Everything will sort itself out.’

  ‘Oh that’s a relief,’ Tania takes a deep breath. ‘I have been worried about it.’

  ‘I see some interference from your in-laws,’ I offer.

  ‘Yes indeed.’ Tania grimaces.

  ‘But as I said, any initial problems will just iron themselves out.’

  ‘Have you been having problems with your in-laws?’ Lydia suddenly butts in. She’s still very young so probably has no experience of nightmare wedding plans. I, on the other hand, know exactly how stressful they can be. I’ve gone through this crap with practically all of my friends.

  ‘There’s a slight problem with the guest list. You’ve people on it that you don’t particularly want at your wedding.’

  Tania nods vigorously.

  ‘And others that you’d like to invite but can’t because of numbers.’

  ‘Oh yes.’

  ‘It will all work out though,’ I repeat sagely. I pause for a minute wondering if I should perhaps quit now while I’m ahead.

  Then, I think, I’ll just say one more thing. I’m quite enjoying this actually, despite my broken heart and the fact that Celeste – my childhood enemy from hell – is sitting just a few feet away.

  ‘I see a foreign holiday; white beaches and a clear blue sea. An island, maybe.’

  ‘Oh, that’ll be the honeymoon,’ Tania beams. ‘We’re going to the Maldives.’

  Phew!

  Tania then sends Tara down to get her fortune told. Jesus, I’m beginning to regret starting my silly little game. But there’s no point backtracking now so I tell her much the same thing I told Tania. But since Tara’s engagement ring holds the biggest, heaviest diamond I’ve ever seen in my life, I add that I can see she’s marrying a wealthy man.

  ‘Well my fiancé does earn a lot of money,’ she admits candidly.

  ‘And somehow I can’t see you being in this job in a few years time,’ I continue, frowning slightly for extra effect.

  ‘Neither do I!’ she exclaims. ‘Can you really see that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Of course I can. If her man is that bloody wealthy she’s not going to be getting up at four every morning to do red eye flights for the rest of her life now, is she?

  ‘And I see the pitter patter of tiny feet. Sooner rather than later.’

  I put Tara’s age at around thirty-three so I reckon I’m on fairly safe ground here. The old biological clock must be ticking away nicely.

  She’s happy. I’m happy. We’re all happy. Well . . . I’m not really happy. My heart is breaking as you can imagine. But you know, under the circumstances I’m not doing too badly and at least I’ve survived the return flight without wallowing in self-pity.

  I glance at my watch. We’re nearly home, thanks be to God. I can’t wait for today to be over. I want it to be tomorrow already. Tomorrow things might make a bit more sense.

  It’s funny but I don’t actually feel jealous of Lydia or anything. No. In fact I feel almost sorry for her. She’s probably dreaming of romance and fairytale weddings. But to Adam, she’ll probably be just another shag. I can’t believe I’m going to let her walk into this. I wonder should I say anything. After all, annoying as Lydia is, I don’t want to let Adam hurt her.

  ‘Lydia?’ I say suddenly.

  She looks at me expectantly.

  ‘Where is Adam taking you?’

  ‘Can’t you see that?’ she asks innocently.

  ‘Let me guess. Probably a little hotel in Wicklow,’ I say heavily.

  ‘He says it’s a surprise.’

  ‘I’ll bet.’

  Lydia chews her nails pensively. I wonder what’s going on in that head of hers.

  ‘I was thinking,’ she says awkwardly. ‘I was thinking I might tell him about you.’

  ‘What?’ I ask, stricken. My heart does a couple of bungee-jumps. Why in God’s name would she want to mention me?

  ‘About what you said. I mean I’ve never met a real fortune-teller before. I’m sure Adam would think it’s fascinating.’

  ‘I’m sure he would, as a matter of fact.’

  ‘Of course, I won’t mention your name,’ she assures me.

  Suddenly a little light bulb pops up in my head. Ping! Then a slow smile spreads across my face.

  ‘Actually Lydia I think you should,’ I insist. ‘My uncle is a famous psychic in New York. Psychic to the stars in fact. He’ll probably recognise the name.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, but don’t tell him straight away, of course,’ I advise. ‘Wait until you’ve both enjoyed your meal. And then tell him I was asking for him.’

  Lydia looks delighted to be armed with this piece of useful information. And although I feel slightly guilty for lying, at least I’ve managed to cheer myself up.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I’m on my way home. In Mike’s car. Dublin speeds past as I sit back, close my eyes and relax. Yes, I know what you’re thinking. You’re wondering how the hell I ended up in the captain’s car. Don’t worry though, I’m not going to suddenly hop on Mike as a means of getting over Adam. No. I never do the rebound thing. It doesn’t work.

  So how did I end up here? Well, I’ll just tell you quickly. I was walking across the ramp and it had begun to rain so I stopped to put up my umbrella. Then Mike came up behind me, picked up my bag and insisted on carrying it across the ramp. Of course I was pretty impressed as you can imagine. I mean, the bag was so light but Mike wouldn’t let me carry it myself. Lydia, Tara and Tania had long since disappeared, as had the co-pilot. They were all rushing home. Lydia, of course, had a date. And the others also had things going on. I, on the other hand seemed to be the only one with no plans. So I offered to wait behind with a wheelchair passenger until the ambulance came to help her down the aircraft steps. She was such a lovely good-natured woman who didn’t complain once that the ambulance was late. Instead she chatted about life and told me she’d just gone over to Italy to see her first grandchild. Talking to her, and seeing how much she appreciated life, made me realise that there was more to this world than Adam Kirrane and that, in fact, he had done me a favour by asking Lydia out. He could have wasted more of my time, like Tim had done. But at least he didn’t get to do that. And besides I don’t have another three years to spare on someone who’s not worth it.

/>   After the ambulance came and took the woman into Arrivals, I headed down the aircraft steps, not realising that Mike had stayed behind in the cockpit to finish off some paperwork.

  I wandered across the ramp, wearing my high-visibility luminous-yellow jacket, so an incoming plane or service truck wouldn’t knock me down. And I’m sure a tear or two slid down my cheek as I wondered what on earth I was going to do with myself for the rest of the evening. But luckily, Mike came along before any more tears appeared. If he hadn’t, my make-up would have been ruined by the time I reached the car park!

  Mike offered me a lift home, which I gladly accepted. I don’t think I could have faced taking public transport home with people on the bus staring. You have no idea how much people gawk at air hostesses in uniform. So in case you were wondering how I ended up in Mike’s car, now you know.

  ‘I believe you tell fortunes?’ Mike asks me as we whiz along Griffith Avenue. U2’s It’s a Beautiful Day blasts from the car radio. I can’t help feeling how ironic it sounds.

  ‘Well, I try,’ I give a weary smile. Hopefully he’s not going to give me his palm or anything while he’s driving. The roads are slippery enough and God, forbid, if anything happened to us, and we ended up crashing, I could just imagine the rumours flying around the airport.

  ‘They were having an affair!’

  ‘Apparently she was two-timing him with a famous TV star.’

  ‘And that star was also dating another air hostess.’

  ‘And would you believe, the two girls had actually done a flight together on that tragic day.’

  ‘But thanks be to God, she didn’t leave anyone behind.’

  ‘No husband or kids or anything.’

  ‘Her parents must be upset though.’

  ‘Yes. And she had a sister who gave an interview to the Sunday World about the tragedy. A very pretty girl. Ruth, I think her name is. She looked distraught, poor thing.’

  Jesus, Katie, would you stop it!

  ‘You’re not even listening to me,’ Mike prods my knee as we stop at the traffic lights.

  ‘Sorry.’ I snap straight back into the land of the living. ‘I get carried away sometimes.’

  ‘I was just asking if you see anything in my future.’

  I look at his profile carefully. He has a perfect face, even features, sallow skin, thick dark eyelashes and jet-black hair. One day, I thought, he’s going to make some woman very, very happy. And if he ever has kids, he’ll probably dote on them. He’d be a great father. At least that’s the impression I get. But I can’t tell him this. No way, I’d be mortified. Don’t ask me why but suddenly I feel myself getting very hot.

  ‘If it’s that bad, I don’t want to know,’ he laughs good-naturedly. Phew! Thank God he’s not going to force me to tell his fortune. I just couldn’t face that right now.

  I’m trying to act normally but I can’t help wondering what’ll happen when Lydia meets Adam later. Will she tell him she was working with me today? And will he just laugh it off or at least have the decency to feel bad. Somehow, I’ve a feeling it’ll be the former. Sure, why would he care about me? After all, he doesn’t even try to be discreet? He could have any girl in the world but he decides to date my airline colleagues instead. Sicko!

  ‘What are you thinking?’ Mike gently interrupts my internal monologue. He fishes in his pocket for loose change for the toll bridge.

  I’m thinking about Lydia and Adam. I’m wondering if they’ll end up having sex tonight. Will he ply her with champagne like he did with me? Is that his party trick? I feel ill just thinking about it.

  ‘Nothing,’ I sigh as a sharp pain sweeps through my body. ‘Nothing at all.’

  ‘You’re in world of your own,’ he observes.

  ‘Yes . . . I suppose I am.’

  ‘Where exactly do you live in Stillorgan?’ Mike enquires as he drives along the Strand Road and I stare out at sea but see nothing because darkness is falling. And it’s raining again now.

  I tell him the name of my road.

  ‘Would you like to go for a drink before I take you home?’ Mike offers.

  I swallow hard. Can Mike read my mind or what? Yes, I would love a drink. In fact I’d kill for one just now. Or two. Or three. But I can’t go into a pub in my uniform and neither can he. It’s against company rules. Surely he’s aware of this.

  ‘You mean . . . in your house?’ I turn to him. My voice is a whisper.

  ‘Yes . . . if that’s okay with you, if that er . . . suits . . . ’

  ‘I’d love to,’ I smile, putting him out of his misery. Maybe I’m mad, I think. I mean, why am I going to Mike’s house when I should be consoling myself with a big box of chocolates in my room singing All by Myself?

  ‘Great,’ he answers back cheerfully. As if I have just simply told him the time or something.

  We say nothing else till we arrive at his house.

  He lives in Blackrock. In a lovely four bed semi-detached house. It’s not out of this world or anything. I mean it doesn’t have a swimming pool, or a majestic sweeping drive. And it certainly doesn’t have a member of staff to answer the door. But that’s a relief to be honest. I felt like a gatecrasher in Adam’s parents’ house.

  The house screams ‘bachelor’. But I like it. It’s neat, tidy and compact, although, if I’m to be completely honest, I think it could do with a female touch.

  I hover a little in the doorway before taking off my uniform coat and sitting down on the chocolate-coloured leather sofa. For the first time since I met him, I wonder why Mike never got married. After all, he’s a handsome guy. Very handsome. And he’s kind. He’s got a good job too . . . but somehow I don’t want to probe. It’s really none of my business, after all.

  ‘I moved in here just a year ago,’ Mike explains as though reading my mind.

  ‘Where did you live before this?’

  ‘In Portmarnack.’

  ‘Alone?’

  Our eyes meet and avert just as quickly.

  ‘Would you like a drink?’ he asks, ignoring the question. Serves me right.

  ‘Sure’.

  ‘Will I open a bottle of wine?’

  ‘I’d prefer something stronger. You got any Bacardi?’

  ‘You name it, I have it.’

  ‘I’ll go for some rum then. With Coke please.’

  Mike disappears into the kitchen.

  When he’s gone I look around the cream carpeted sitting room. It’s bare except for one rather unusual painting, depicting a Connemara setting. I think I recognise the beach. From a family holiday years and years ago. Back when life was a little less complicated. And a little more fun.

  A wide screen TV/DVD player dominates the far corner and hundreds of CDs are stacked neatly in a row. There’s a plant on the windowsill but it looks like its days are numbered. It was probably a present from his mother.

  This all seems very bizarre. I feel like I’m going to wake up in a minute and realise this was all a dream. If you had told me last night that I’d be sitting in another man’s house tonight, drinking alcohol in my airline uniform I’d never have believed you. But life is weird. God, yes.

  Mike returns with my drink, and he’s thoughtfully filled a crystal bowl with peanuts, which he hands to me.

  He sits down beside me and opens a bottle of wine.

  ‘From Milan,’ he smiles. And I smile back. I feel strangely at home here. I don’t know why. And I certainly don’t feel like I slept with another man last night. That particular . . . er, incident, seems like a million miles away. I’m glad now I didn’t go home. My pillow won’t miss the tears.

  ‘There’s something on your mind, isn’t there?’ Mike’s eyes penetrate mine. They’re so intense. He slips off his jacket and places it on top of my coat. The gesture unnerves me slightly. I feel like an awkward teenager at my first school disco. What’s this all about? I wonder. Mike had better not think I’m here to be seduced or anything.

  The last thing I need to do now is get involve
d with another man. Even if it’s just a meaningless kiss. I’ve got to get my head together before I think about doing anything I might regret later. I’ve made a mistake already this week. A huge one. I won’t be doing that again in a hurry.

  ‘Yes, there is,’ I take a sip of my drink. It’s strong. Good.

  ‘But you don’t want to talk about it?’

  ‘That’s right I don’t.’

  ‘Are you hungry?’

  ‘No.’

  God, I’m not making this easy for him, am I? I’m sure he’s beginning to regret inviting me to his home. But I don’t care. I’m tired of trying to impress men.

  ‘I was delighted when I heard you were on board today,’ Mike leans back on the sofa and opens his shirt collar. I hate to admit it, but he looks sexy as hell and is becoming sexier by the minute. I almost dislike him for it. It would be so much easier if he wasn’t so attractive, wouldn’t it?

  Then I could tell him all about Adam and how my heart has been smashed. But there’s no point in that. Anyway I don’t even know if I could explain it all properly.

  ‘How did you know I was on the flight?’

  ‘Tania handed me the list of crew names. I couldn’t believe it when I saw yours. I suppose I’ve wanted to apologise to you for a long time. You know, for leaving you in the bar in Boston that night.’

  ‘You already did.’

  ‘I wanted to apologise again. Properly.’ He touches my arm gently, sending an excited shiver through me. I don’t know if I trust myself sitting in such close proximity to Mike. Not when I’m feeling this vulnerable. Suddenly, I feel like curling up, crying into his shoulder, and letting everything out. But I can’t do that. Mike wouldn’t understand. Not really.

  ‘Have you ever been cheated on?’ I suddenly blurt out, astonishing myself as well as Mike.

  He stands up and for a minute I think he’s going to throw me out for being so impertinent. He walks over to his CD player, hovers for a moment and then puts on some classical music. I watch carefully, not fully understanding my emotions, which happen to be all over the place at the minute. What’s the story with the romantic music? Then it dawns on me. I know what’s going on now. Yes, I get it. He thinks I’m just another airhead, who’s going to hop into bed with him because of some music and a bit of alcohol. Well, I’m not that cheap a date. And anyway, I’m finished with men. I decided that on the flight today. I should have done it a long time ago. It would have saved me a lot of trouble. Men, they’re all the same, all of them. Only the names change.