The Perfect Girlfriend(28)

I join her on the sofa ten minutes later. If I didn’t know that it was one she watched regularly, I’d have assumed she’d chosen it on purpose. Because tonight’s episode involves a graveside scene in which a character attains ‘closure’.

I leave early the following morning, full of promises to visit again soon.

On the train home my phone rings. My solicitor. The house sale has gone through.

I am rich.

I imagine some junior estate agent being dispatched to the cottage to change the Under Offer sign to Sold.

Annoyingly, the flat I’d had my eye on in Richmond has been taken off the market, which means that I have to restart my search for another place. But it will keep me busy until I am back at work.

Somewhere above Europe, then Asia, suspended in no-man’s-land, hurtling towards Bangkok, I am sitting in the galley on an upturned metal container, freezing cold, listening to a colleague, Nancy, go on and on. She’s shown me pictures of her cat, her horse, her godchildren, revealed all about an operation she had four years ago, and told me how her ex-husband was into cross-dressing.

‘It wasn’t that that split us up, though . . .’

‘Oh,’ I say. ‘Do you want a coffee?’

I stand up, put a filter bag into the coffee machine and switch it on, willing a passenger to wander in and faint or do something that will take a while to sort out.

‘Yes, I’ll have a coffee. Anyway, like I say, it wasn’t the cross-dressing—’

‘I’ll be back in a couple of minutes, Nancy. It’s my turn to complete the security checks.’

Normally I can’t be bothered, but tonight I prowl around the dark cabin, checking the toilets for suspicious messages and bomb-makers, ensuring passengers aren’t ill or up to anything too unusual. It’s quiet. There are no couples trying to sneak into the toilet together to join the Mile High Club, not that it bothers me when they do. I just pretend I haven’t noticed.

By the time I return to the galley, Nancy has latched on to another crew member, Kevin, who from his glazed expression clearly wishes he hadn’t ventured down from the sanctuary of first class.

‘. . . so, it was the fact that he was so selfish. I mean really selfish. I’d get back off a trip, exhausted, having served hundreds of people throughout the night, and he wouldn’t have lifted a finger at home. No shopping in, no . . .’

I catch his eye and smile.

‘I only nipped down for some spare napkins,’ he says. ‘I’ve left the first galley unattended. I’d better pop back.’

Kevin used to be an accountant, but the burning desire to travel made him change career in his early forties. He seems fun. He made everyone laugh in briefing with a tale about how he’d missed a crew bus to a remote stand on his previous flight and had ended up getting lost in the labyrinth of corridors beneath the terminal. Kevin winks at me before escaping through the thick galley curtains. Maybe I’ll hang out with him. He seems intelligent and entertaining, so far.

A call bell chimes. Hallelujah!

I make my way along the aisle, among the sleeping masses buried beneath blankets, avoiding sticking-out feet and random shoes, until I reach seat 43A, above which the call light is illuminated white.

‘Please may I have a cup of tea, dear?’ asks an old lady, switching on her reading light.

‘Of course.’

I scan the darkness for any other lights. This is what my life has come down to: looking for people to serve so I don’t have to listen to any more chatter.

In the galley, as I pour boiling water from the hot tap on to the tea bag, Nancy resumes.

‘Any plans for Bangkok?’

I consider. What wouldn’t Nancy do? Hmm. Not sure. Better play safe and keep it vague.

‘Not really, I like to go with the flow and not make definite plans. I never know how I’ll be feeling or how I’ll sleep.’

I pour milk into the tea and grab a few sugar sachets, place them on a tray and return to the cabin.

The moment I’m back, Nancy opens her mouth.

‘I’m going to visit The Grand Palace, with the first officer, Katie. We live in the same village and when we realized we were on the same trip, we decided that it was time to venture out for a bit of culture and do something rather than the same old market shopping.’

‘Good for you.’

‘You’re very welcome to join us.’

‘Thanks, you’re kind, but I’ll see.’

‘Probably wise. Katie’s all loved up at the moment. She’s at that initial stage where she can’t help dropping her new boyfriend’s name into every conversation, regardless of the topic. I don’t begrudge her, of course I don’t. She’s been on her own a while, never had much luck with men. But, between you and me, I bet it will be “Nate this” and “Nate that” whilst we’re at the temple.’

‘Nate? That’s an unusual name?’ I am surprised at how normal and casual my voice sounds, as inside I feel heart-sick.

‘Is it unusual? I hadn’t really thought. It’s probably short for Nathan or something.’

‘What’s his surname?’ My heart is beating just a little faster.

‘I don’t know. Anyway, it’s time to go and wake the others, it’s our turn for bunk rest now.’