I get to my feet and make a show of looking at my watch.
‘Are you going somewhere?’ Mike looks surprised and even a little hurt. I’m not sure why. Maybe he’s just disappointed he won’t be getting his wicked way with me.
‘I’d like to go home now.’
Mike looks so taken aback, I feel terrible. Of course deep down, I know why I’m doing this. I’m just telling him what I wish I’d told Adam last night. Mike is in effect paying for Adam’s crime.
‘Please don’t go,’ he says quietly. ‘Hey, if you don’t like the music I’ll change the CD. What do you like? Jazz, R&B, Country and Western?’
I laugh in spite of myself. What else can I do?
‘It’s not the music,’ I say awkwardly. ‘I just . . .well, I’m just not sure what I’m doing here.’
‘Well neither am I,’ he shrugs, ‘so that makes two of us. I mean, I know I’m here because I live here.
But . . .’ he trails off.
‘But what . . . ?’
‘Well, I haven’t invited anyone to my home since . . .’
Mike’s face suddenly looks very serious. Pained, almost. I wonder why. And I wonder why he has stopped talking. He turns away from me. Instinctively I walk towards him.
‘What’s the matter?’ I put my hand on his shoulder.
He still doesn’t turn around.
‘My wife left me two years ago,’ he says in a very, very quiet voice. I say nothing. I’m too shocked to speak.
‘She left me for my sister’s husband,’ he continues.
‘No.’
‘Yes, it’s hard to believe isn’t it?’
‘So you’re married?’ I say slowly, letting the news sink in.
‘Separated. Legally separated. Soon to be divorced actually.’
My God, this is a shock. I’m truly stunned.
Eventually he turns around and looks straight at me. Our faces are very close to each other and for a moment I’m convinced he’s going to try and kiss me. I’m filled with panic and anticipation. What am I going to do? But then Mike doesn’t try anything and I’m almost sorry.
We sit in silence. My breathing is heavy. I really need to let all this sink in. My mind is a pool of confusion. Why am I here and how long exactly have I been attracted to Mike? It slowly occurs to me that I’ve probably seriously fancied him since that first night in Boston. And that I was madly hurt over the fact that he left me alone with Derek. And that I was jealous of Amy because I thought Mike preferred her. In fact, all of a sudden it dawns on me that I was far more jealous of Amy and Mike in Boston, than I was this afternoon when I heard about Adam and Lydia.
Suddenly my mobile beeps. I check it to see who’s sent me a text. Funnily enough, I’m not that surprised to see Adam’s name.
NOT FEELIN GR8. CN WE MEET 2MORO INSTD?
I simply erase the text. Then I erase Adam’s name altogether from my phone. I won’t be needing it from now on. No. I won’t be needing it any more.
‘Sit down.’ My eyes meet Mike’s. ‘You can tell me everything. That’s if you want to, of course.’
Mike wipes his brow in mild frustration. ‘Jesus,’ he sighs. ‘I didn’t invite you in so I could tell you all about my failed married. God, that’s the last thing I wanted to do. How did I even get talking about it?’
‘It’s my fault. I asked you did anyone ever cheat on you?’
‘So you did,’ Mike looks at me oddly. ‘What a strange thing to ask somebody on a first date.’
‘Is this a date?’ I can’t help smiling.
‘Well, I agree it’s not the most romantic date I’ve ever been on but . . .’
We both laugh.
And then we stop laughing at the same time. As our heads draw closer together, Mike’s arms creep up around my waist and our lips find one another’s. And for some strange reason, once again, I feel at home. As if I’ve been with Mike all my life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Of course I didn’t sleep with him! Well, we did sleep in the same bed but nothing happened last night. And to be honest, Mike didn’t even try anything. In fact he gave me an old pair of pyjamas to wear and we just lay in each other’s arms for hours, talking, kissing and then talking a little more. Incidentally Mike’s a pretty good kisser.
Anyway, I ended up telling him all about Adam except I left out the part about us having sex in case Mike thought I was easy. Besides, I don’t think it’s right to discuss having sex with someone other than the person you’re planning on having it with. I mean, Mike told me all about meeting his wife, and their wedding and their eventual split. But he certainly didn’t tell me what they got up to in bed. God no. Could you imagine!
I think we were still talking at around six in the morning because I’ve vague memories of hearing birds singing, but maybe it was just my heart singing. Oh God, I know I sound naff but when I woke up this morning I was seriously happier than I’ve been in a long time.
We didn’t discuss ‘us’ or the future or anything, and after coffee and heated croissants in bed, Mike drove me home. But I know there’ll be no sinister mind games this time, which is great. I’m sick of playing games. They’re horrible. And besides, my heart doesn’t want to play any more.
Mike’s a fairly straightforward kind of guy. What you see is what you get. He’s not a TV star or anything but he’s certainly welcome to be the star of my show. He flies planes instead of sitting in them. And his life doesn’t revolve around drinking champagne and chatting up every air hostess thinking he’s God’s gift to women. More importantly he’s a genuine, down-to-earth guy. And I wouldn’t trade his toenail for Adam and all his fame and money. Adam will never be happy. I know that now. No one woman will ever be enough for him. He’ll always be searching for the impossible. One day he’ll end up one hell of a lonely guy. I just hope he realises it before it’s too late.
When Mike drops me home, I see the curtains in my mother’s bedroom twitch. Unfortunately that means I can’t indulge in one last lengthy snog with Mike. Oh well, hopefully there’ll be plenty of time for that again. Mike gives me a peck on the cheek and says he’ll call later. I practically skip from his car to the front door.
I push open the door and wander into the kitchen. I’m wearing an old tracksuit belonging to Mike. Well, I was hardly going to wear my uniform on my day off, was I? I amble into the kitchen and see a huge bunch of flowers on the kitchen table. Instinctively I know they’re from Adam.
Straight into the bin they go.
I don’t feel too guilty. Knowing my mother, she’ll fish them out again later and put them in a vase.
There are also three brown envelopes on the table, addressed to me. Brown and boring. I tentatively open them. One by one. I’ve an uneasy feeling about the contents. And I’m right. Three rejections from three film companies. My heart plummets. I read
the cold standard ‘thanks but no thanks’ messages over and over again and then tear the letters up. They follow the same fate as my flowers. Into the bin. Along with my shattered dreams.
EPILOGUE
One year later.
Welcome back folks. Nice to see you. Sorry you haven’t heard from me in over a year but to be honest, life has been completely hectic. Still, that’s no excuse for ignoring you so please forgive me, sit back, relax and I’ll fill you in. This is my last flight by the way. Yes. You see I’m pregnant now so I can’t fly for a while . . .
Oh God, don’t look at me like that. Yes, I know, I know, I can hardly believe it either. I mean I always thought I’d remain childless forever. And would live alone, surrounded by a hundred cats, with all my married friends whispering about me in hushed pitying tones. But God obviously had other plans. It was quite a shock actually, a huge shock. But Mike and I got used to the idea very quickly. We’re also engaged and planning to move in with each other straight away. Oh I know people usually get married first, then move in and eventually get pregnant but we did it arseways, according to Mum. Never mind, she’ll get over it
. In fact I kind of think she’s looking forward to being a gran.
So anyway, I’d better fill you in on everything. Where was I when I left you? Oh, yes I remember now. I’d spent the night with Mike but nothing had happened. Absolutely nothing. In fact not a thing happened between us, in the physical sense at least, for about a month. Because I wanted to be absolutely sure I was in the right frame of mind for passion and romance. My heart was locked up in a box marked ‘FRAGILE’. And I wasn’t about to let it be manhandled again.
Mike was happy to go along with my wishes until, on one overnight in Paris, I sneaked into his room while the rest of the crew slept, and we made mad, passionate love until the sun rose and it was time to fly back to Dublin again. I knew then, that our relationship would probably last forever. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Still can’t. But it’s not just about lust. No. We connect on a much deeper level. It’s hard to explain but sometimes I can’t really remember my life before Mike came into it.
Once my mother got over the absolute shock of my pregnancy (as far as she was concerned I was still single at the time!), she started tearing her hair out at the thought of yet another wedding. Ruth got married a couple of months ago of course, but there were tears and tantrums right up until the big day. Mum still swears it’ll never work out, but Ruth seems very happy for the moment, so we’ll just have to hope for the best.
Not wanting to put my mother through any more unnecessary stress though, myself and Mike have decided to get married in a registry office next year, with a quiet meal afterwards in a small, exclusive restaurant. Just immediate family and friends. No hassle. No unwanted relatives. No bickering about the guest list. I’m relieved to be honest. I don’t fancy spending my wedding day being introduced to strange relatives. Also, because it’s Mike’s second wedding, he doesn’t particularly want to go through the whole lavish ceremony bit again. You know, having to say ‘I do’ for the second time. In front of the same friends and family members.
We’re going to wait until after Kiera is born of course. Yes, we’re having a girl. Oh, you know, I had to find out. I was the type of child who couldn’t even resist opening my presents before Christmas Day! How could I possibly not know whether I was expecting a boy or girl? I’m delighted about having a girl ’cos I was always a little worried about having a boy in case he wanted to be out kicking a ball all the time or something. Or pretending to be a soldier and wanting to punch me continuously. You see, I just had one sister so I never really knew any boys. But to be honest, as long as the child is healthy, that’s all that matters.
Mike reckons we’re going to have at least two or three more kids after Kiera. I’m saying nothing. But I have my reservations. It’s all very well for him to want a large brood. But while he’s still jetting around the world, I’m spending most of my days with my head stuck in the loo. Pregnancy is definitely not all it’s cracked up to be. It’s funny, they say you’re supposed to look your sexiest while pregnant. But Jesus, I have to disagree. My face keeps breaking out in spots, and doing anything strenuous like applying fake tan or shaving my legs, leaves me exhausted. Most days I just want to collapse into bed. I wonder how those pop stars do it. You know the ones who perform in belly tops on stage right up to the week they give birth. God, I wish they’d let me in on their secret.
So what else is new? Well Debbie’s fine, you’ll be pleased to know. She’s going out with a gorgeous toy-boy called Josh. Yes, sadly herself and Donald parted company in the end. The whole ‘open relationship’ thing they had going on didn’t quite work out. And I can’t say I was surprised when they finally called it a day. At least she called it a day after Josh gave her a final ultimatum.
As for Lydia? I never did find out what happened between herself and Adam on that date. But she started seeing a much older multimillionaire shortly after our flight to Milan. And she’s been hounding me ever since to read her palm. She wants to know whether the new man will ever leave his wife for her.
Amy, would you believe, resigned from the company a while ago, and went to New Zealand to ‘find herself’. She must still be looking because I haven’t heard from her since. I hope she’s having a nice time anyway. God, sometimes, when the Irish rain turns to sleet and the wind doesn’t stop howling, I think I’d love to go and join her in a nice sunny climate. But obviously, I won’t be going anywhere too far just at the moment.
Tim got engaged. To his next-door neighbour, would you believe? Apparently he’d been seeing her behind my back for ages. But I’ve absolutely no hard feelings towards him because life’s too short. He’s happy and I’m happy. With separate people. We’d never have made each other happy anyway so it’s only right that we’ve both moved on. He’s even sent me an invitation to ‘the afters’ of his wedding!
Incidentally, his sister Elaine spilt up from her husband and has moved in with a work colleague. So no surprises there really. Hmm. I wonder did Adam ever pop into her shop in the end?
Speaking of Adam, I’m sure you’re wondering what on earth ever happened to him. Well I never did bump into him again, although I’ve bumped into many air hostesses who have, so to speak. But I did get my revenge. Sort of.
Remember that script I was writing? ‘How could I forget?’ says you. Well, let me tell you what happened there. OK, I got about another twenty ‘Please-Fuck-Off’ letters and then I kind of lost heart as well as my confidence. The script is now under my bed somewhere gathering dust. For a while I was so deflated I thought about giving up writing altogether. And then one day something extraordinary happened. Something that genuinely turned my life around.
You see, I met Sandy Elkinson at the airport. If you remember, she was the babe that Adam was supposed to have gone out with. The Claudia Schiffer look-alike. Well one day, we were both hanging around the cabin crew rest room waiting for a delayed flight to come in. Naturally we got talking.
I felt I had to ask her about Adam. I still had so many unanswered questions floating about in my head. Had the pair of them really been going out together? How had it ended? Was it true that she was once the love of his life?
There was no harm in asking, was there?
Sandy, as it turned out, looked anything but pleased at the sound of Adam Kirrane’s name. ‘Oh, I never went out with him,’ she said hotly as she painted her nails a blood-red colour. ‘And I sincerely hope that people don’t think I did. Adam Kirrane used to ring me all the time but to be honest, I don’t even know how he got hold of my number.’
‘So it’s not true?’ I asked, trying not to pass out from the fumes of her nail polish. ‘But why wouldn’t you go on a date with him?’
‘Why not?’ Sandy threw back her blonde curls and laughed loudly. ‘Good God girl, haven’t you heard about that man’s reputation?’
‘Is he that bad?’
‘Worse,’ Sandy laughed even louder. ‘Much worse. Do you know,’ she lowered her voice, ‘that they call Adam Kirrane the mile high guy?’
I was completely flabbergasted. Oh my God. Had Adam ever like, done it . . . I mean really . . . how could he? How could anyone? I mean there’s barely room in those toilets for one person, never mind . . .
‘It’s an obsession of his apparently,’ Sandy whispered in my ear. ‘That’s the reason why he’s always chasing air hostesses.’
‘Good God.’
‘You just never know, do you?’
‘And you’re sure that’s not just a rumour?’ I raised an eyebrow. ‘I mean rumours do tend to fly around this place, pardon the pun.’
‘A friend of mine saw him. So I got it from the horse’s mouth so to speak. She works for another airline and she spotted him following one of the cabin crew into the toilet. Your woman had a bit of a reputation too apparently, so they were well met. Anyway, they were caught coming out of the cubicle in the dead of the night when they thought nobody could see.’
‘Jesus, she could have got sacked for that. How shocking!’
‘Yes, I know. Honestly some peo
ple have no shame. Well my friend confronted the girl but she denied everything. She said she’d gone into the toilet to help him with some medication.’
‘Medication?’ I echoed incredulously.
‘Hmm. Exactly.’
‘So if he ever asks you out, I’d advise you to say no,’ Sandy said. ‘Forearmed is forewarned if you know what I mean.’
‘Yes, er, thanks.’
Well it was bit late for me now, wasn’t it?
‘Some men!’ Sandy shook her beautiful head. ‘Honestly you could write a book about them. Someone should write a book about Adam Kirrane anyway.’
And then it suddenly struck me. A book! Oh my God. What a fantastic idea. A book about Adam and his antics. I could write such a book. I would write it. An entire book based on that cad. I’d call it The Mile High Guy, hahaha. It made so much sense, didn’t it?
I’d never thought about writing a book before. Until now I just thought it was something other people did. And anyway I wouldn’t have even known what to write about. Most books I read are about women whose husbands have affairs and leave. But being single, I don’t think I could have written such a book. And of course when my script was so savagely rejected, I thought I’d never put pen to paper again. But this was different. They say you should write about what you know, and I knew about flying and I sure as hell knew about Adam. So why not write the story? Why not indeed?
So when I got home from my London flight that evening, all fired up, I sat down and wrote CHAPTER ONE. And the words just started to flow. Once I got into the story I could hardly stop. The book seemed to take on a life of its own and I got so involved that I’d dream about the characters at night, and talk about them as if they were real people. My parents grew more and more anxious. My mother said my behaviour wasn’t normal and that all writers were obviously mad.
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