and it was still cold; certainly by South African standards.
“I knew what you meant only when ‘first class’ slipped out of my mouth,” she blushed.
“No, I should’ve asked what airline,” Jen tried to muster up some excitement for her friend. For all she knew, this may be her first time in first class. “Well, that is exciting. Makes the journey a lot less tiring.”
Patty wheeled the bag across the bedroom floor into the lounge and through to the entrance. “I was going to suggest you buy travel socks to prevent your feet from swelling, but I’m sure first class provides you with all those extras; and your legs will be raised.”
A message had just come through on her phone. “My driver’s at the gate. I’ve got to go, Jen,” she said.
“Have a safe trip.” Patty could hear her hesitate. “I actually phoned to tell you something important, but I’ll tell you when you’re back.”
It wasn’t as though Patty wasn’t interested, but her driver had arrived and she didn’t know how long Jen would take to tell her story. She always felt nervous before she travelled. Only when she’d checked in and had a drink in her hand, could she relax. But for now, getting to the airport was her focus.
She had shut all her windows by the time the driver had rung her doorbell. The fridge had been emptied the day before. All she needed was to come home to a stinky fridge! A possibility with the current load-shedding. True to Patty, she had left her apartment clean and tidy, ready for her return.
The driver had already placed her bags in the boot of the limo and he held the car door open for her.
Her phone rang. It was Snoekie. She answered as the limousine pulled out of her gated complex.
“I phoned to say bon voyage,” he said.
“You speak French, Snoekie!” she joked.
He didn’t share in her humour. “Let us know when you arrive.” With that, he dropped the call.
She felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness. She seriously had nobody. If her plane should crash over the Atlantic nobody would miss her. Yes, Snoekie and her associates may eventually realise she was a passenger on the fated plane, but her only friends, Jen, Sharon and Claudia, would they even know she had been killed? She remembered Lee’s funeral. The many people who mourned his death and the many who had come to pay their last respects. How many people would be at her funeral service, if any, she wondered?
No one, barring Lee, had known where she stayed; and he was dead. Jen & Co, as she liked to call them, were too polite to ask. On the odd occasion when she wasn’t working, she would either visit their homes or they would go out. Being ‘coloured’, she guessed they assumed she lived in Mannenberg or some area they had never dreamed of venturing into.
She smiled.
She resolved to make changes when she returned. She had to try and forge a more normal existence; make friends, find an ordinary job. That’s if her ‘associates’ would let her leave.
“There’s bubbles in the bar-fridge,” her driver volunteered.
The fridge held an open bottle of L’Ormarins Brut Classique. Patty struggled at first with the Champagne sealer then poured herself a glass. The golden liquid bubbled to the top. She grabbed an Urbanol tablet from her jacket pocket and downed it with her Champagne.
Once at the airport, her luggage was checked in with the help of her driver. After she had gone through customs she headed for Exclusive Books. Then she found herself a comfortable seat in the Emirates Lounge and placed an order for some more Champagne. She could feel the effects of the Urbanol and the bubbles as she leaned her head back on the couch, closed her eyes and breathed steadily, in and out, in and out. She felt calm.
“Are you okay?” a man asked her. He had gently touched her shoulder.
She smiled. “Yes. Thank you. I am not a happy passenger. I have a fear of flying.”
He sat down next to her. Uninvited. “I’m not going to say, ‘don’t be’, because that is the most unhelpful bit of advice people seem to dispense.”
“I’ve taken an Urbanol with my Champagne. Not so sure it was such a good idea. I seem to be spinning. Not a bad spinning, just a bit dozy. Phew!” she said and held her temples.
“What’s this?” he asked, picking up the book and flipping it open.
“Ah, just an easy read. Hopefully will get me through the flight quicker.”
He lifted his hand to the waiter and ordered a platter of sushi. “You eat sushi, don’t you?”
“I love sushi,” she said, not seeming to mind the intrusion.
“Where are you off to? Sorry if I seem nosey, I’m just trying to take your mind off things.” He smiled and placed the book back down next to her. Patty couldn’t quite place his accent.
“New York. You?” Patty shoved her book in her handbag. She didn’t think she was going to be reading now she had company and sushi was on the way.
“New York. Stopover in Dubai.” He leaned back and took a good look at her.
“Are you spending the night in Dubai or is it a layover?” The stranger had topped up her Champagne.
“Four hours then straight on to New York. Quite a long haul.”
“Me too. Oh well, we’re fellow travellers. Are you first class all the way?” She sipped her Champagne.
He grinned broadly, then said, “I am.”
“Me too,” He must be in his fifties, she thought. His hair was greying at the temples. He had a strong jaw, a sharp nose and a broad smile. Also, a little boep that could be worked off with a bit of exercise. He wore jeans and an aviator collared t-shirt.
“What’s with the aviator shirt?” she teased, knowing just how expensive the brand was. “Are you the pilot?”
“I can be if you want me to be.”
Patty smiled. She could feel herself shift into Patty the vixen; a shift that hadn’t happened in a long time. The last time she had played vixen was with John. Sex with John had been premeditated. A ploy to trick him; a way of exposing him as the adulterer he was, which eventually uncovered the affair between him and Frankie. But it didn’t mean she hadn’t been turned on.
She had always loved sex. She grinned at the thought that she worked in a brothel but wasn’t having sex. Everyone around her was, but she had been determined to stay celibate. For whom? she mocked.
She inhaled deeply, trying to get a grip on her shallow breathing. “Are you trying to seduce me?” She looked straight into his eyes.
“I guess I am,” he grinned.
She leaned her elbow on the back of the couch. Her head tilted sideways resting in her hand. “I see there’s a wedding band. I’ve resolved to stay away from married men, whether they fly a Jumbo or a Cessna.” Her smile was inviting.
“I notice there’s no ring on your finger. That’s very noble of you,” he said.
“What’s noble? That I’m unmarried or that I’ve resolved to stay away from other women’s husbands?”
He leaned in to her and grazed her ear with his mouth. Her body caught fire. “Both,” he whispered. Then, “Our sushi’s here,” as the waiter placed their platter on the coffee table.
The stranger lifted a California roll from the platter with his fingers and dunked it in soya sauce. “Open your mouth,” he instructed. She did as she was told. He fed her the roll. Such an intimate gesture had caused her to respond in a way long suppressed by the events of the past year.
He popped a roll in his mouth.
“You have an odd accent,”