Excess All Areas (2 page)

‘
If you don’t stop kicking right now I’m going to tell the air stewardess,’ Freya said seriously and she gave the girl another glare.

‘
And what’s she going to do about it?’ the girl replied, leaning forward in her seat and glaring back at Freya.

‘
She’s going to tell you off.’

‘
Big deal. Why is your hair so red? It looks really stupid,’ the child answered back.

‘
Look you little beast, I’ve had a horrible day and I just want to get some sleep, so would you please stop kicking my seat.’

Threats hadn’t worked; perhaps begging would or perhaps bribery was better, offer her a few euros. Except she didn’t have any Euros. Where was this kid’s mother?

‘
No! I’m bored and this is fun,’ the child spoke and she started kicking harder and faster.

Freya could feel what little patience she had crumbling. This was all she needed. She snapped.

‘
For God’s sake! Who does this child belong to? Satan are you there?! Come on, own up! Who is the mother or father of this child? If she is flying alone I swear I will remove her!’

Freya hardly recognised the sound of her own voice as the words flew out. She sounded almost unhinged. She was yelling at a flight full of people, all because a bored child was kicking her seat. Hadn’t she been a bored child once? Yes she had, but she hadn’t even been allowed to remove her seatbelt let alone achieve enough leg swing to wallop the seat in front. Now she felt hot and she was perspiring. She felt out of control and sick, she needed to sit down. Everyone was staring at her. People had put down their crosswords to look at her; one woman across the aisle had dropped two stitches in the scarf she was knitting. She needed to calm down, but what she wanted to do most of all was cry.

‘
Are you alright?’ the woman with the knitting asked Freya.

She was now bent over, her head in her hands. She didn’t reply, she was trying hard not to throw up. She had known that eating a family sized bar of Dairy Milk in the departure lounge was wrong and now she was paying for it.

Boom, boom, boom, – the girl’s kicking was incessant. What was she doing on a plane to Corfu with no Euros, no luggage and no guarantee that Emma would have somewhere for her to stay? Was she crazy?

And then it stopped. Her seat was no longer being kicked out of its fixings and the banging in her head had lessened. Had the Devil child found something else to entertain her Freya wondered. Tying people’s shoelaces together? Activating the emergency lifejackets? Creating an elaborate bomb using nothing but the survival leaflet, a can of Coke and some Kirby grips? Freya dared to turn her head and peek through the gap between the seats. The girl’s mother had returned and the girl was still looking angelic but this time she was asleep, her head on her mother’s lap.

‘
Is everything OK Madam? Can I get you a drink?’

Freya hadn’t noticed the air hostess arrive, but she did now and she also noticed she was pushing the drinks trolley which contained a large selection of alcoholic beverages. All of them looked immediately appealing, even the sherry.

‘
Can I have a brandy and Coke please? A large one,’ Freya asked her, trying to compose herself.

‘
Of course Madam, with ice?’ came the reply.

‘
Please,’ Freya answered.

‘
That will be five pounds sixty please,’ the air hostess informed her as she placed the drink and a napkin on Freya’s stowaway tray.

Oh my God, money! Did she have any cash? She had bought the plane ticket with her Visa card and now she didn’t know whether she had enough cash on her to pay for a drink. A drink she badly needed.

She picked up her handbag from the floor of the plane and began searching through it to try and find her purse. On opening her purse she discovered she had precisely two pounds twenty six, a supermarket trolley token and a French franc.

‘
Um, do you take credit card?’ Freya enquired with a hopeful look at the stewardess who also happened to be a super-slim blonde-haired twenty-something.

‘
We do take Visa madam, but only for purchases of more than ten pounds. We take Euros however, if you want to use your holiday money,’ the hostess replied with a helpful smile.

‘
If only I had some’ thought Freya. There was only one solution.

‘
I’d better have two then. When do we land?’ Freya asked as she handed over her credit card.

‘
Just over an hour now, not too long. There you go, if you would just enter your PIN number - thank you,’ she spoke, completing the transaction.

Freya took a large mouthful of one of her drinks and tried to relax herself. It wasn’t long now until she’d be in Corfu.

‘
I see the little terror behind you is asleep now. Make the most of the peace and quiet. Let’s hope she isn’t staying at your hotel,’ the stewardess spoke in a hushed voice as she moved her trolley past Freya and along the aisle.

Freya nodded and smiled. That would be too cruel to imagine and Fate could not be that cruel on your birthday.

Two

It was an hour and five minutes before the plane touched down. It was 10.30pm local time and dark. Freya was glad to arrive. She had never been a lover of flying and three and a half hours was about her limit. She had done a long haul trip to Canada once to photograph the Rockies for a client, but these days she stuck to scenery nearer to home.

As she stepped out of the plane and on to the steps, Freya took a deep breath of the night air and filled her lungs with it. It was warm, it was sweet and it filled her whole head up with its comforting scent. There was absolutely nothing on Earth as wonderful as Corfiot air and it made Freya feel welcome every time she visited.

‘
Excuse me; we’re in a bit of a hurry.’

One of her fellow passengers nudged Freya’s shoulder and she was brought back to the reality of having just landed with Britain’s fraught and impatient holidaymakers, desperate to start queuing for their suitcases. There was nothing like a bit of argy-bargy for your bags to really get you into the holiday spirit.

And thinking of spirit, the brandies in Freya’s stomach were swimming around nicely with the chocolate, but her insides were suggesting from the groans and rumblings that she should think about getting them some company pretty soon.

After a short bus ride, that Freya never thought was really necessary, she arrived at the terminal and was at last stood in Corfu International Airport, waiting to have her passport scrutinised. While she was stood in line she scrutinised the photograph herself. She had been just twenty one when it was taken, nine years ago. Her hair was long and brown and she wore huge spectacles that made her look like a cross between an owl and a headmistress. She was almost unrecognisable now, apart from the weight. The weight hadn’t changed in nine years.

The queue for passport checking was unmoving and Freya decided that now was as good a time as any to call Emma. She just hoped that she answered, as she hadn’t considered what she would do if she didn’t.

Freya turned on her mobile. There were now fifty four missed calls and a low battery. She scanned down the phone to Emma’s mobile number in the phone book and pressed ‘call’. Nothing happened. Freya checked the screen and it revealed she had no network coverage. This could not be happening! She knew she was able to make international calls, she had always been able to make international calls, from anywhere to anywhere, so why wasn’t it working? What was she going to do? She had no money to make a call from the public phone. She was stuck in Corfu Airport with no means to get out.

Just as she was about to go into full blown panic mode the words ‘Vodafone Greece’ appeared on her phone’s display, together with a full signal. Freya took a long slow breath and mentally thanked the Greek Gods - or at least those representing communication.

The phone rang several times in that infuriating continental way until at last:-

‘
Freya! Happy Birthday!’

Emma’s voice answered and Freya smiled, feeling comforted by the sound of a familiar voice.

‘
Thanks and thanks for the card and the earrings, they’re lovely - very me,’ Freya responded.

The queue in front of her began to move at last.

‘
So what are you up to? Russell taken you out somewhere nice?’ Emma enquired.

‘
Not exactly,’ Freya answered moving towards the booth ahead of her.

‘
What time is it there? I still get confused, what with clocks there going forward and back,’ Emma continued.

‘
It’s ten to eleven,’ Freya replied and she braced herself for her friend’s reply.

‘
No it can’t be. That’s what time it is here Silly,’ Emma spoke.

It was at that moment the airport announcer decided to tell the terminal, in Greek and English, that the flight going to Stansted was about to leave from gate three.

‘
Freya you’re at Corfu Airport aren’t you,’ Emma stated matter of factly.

‘
Oh Em, act a little surprised please!’ Freya begged.

‘
Nothing surprises me with you. I can’t remember the last time you made a planned visit. I’m getting used to it,’ Emma admitted.

‘
I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go. I’m stupid aren’t I? I shouldn’t keep doing this when I hit a low. I should have called,’ Freya began.

The tears were welling up in her eyes already and she was now fourth in the queue. She was feeling weak and that in itself made her angry. How dare Russell make her feel like this.

‘
Don’t be silly Freya it’s fine, get a taxi here. In fact don’t get a taxi, go to arrivals and find the Sun ‘n’ Sea rep. She should be the only one dressed entirely in mint green - it’ll be Madeline or Tracey. Tell them you’re my friend and hitch a ride to Kassiopi,’ Emma ordered.

‘
Are you sure there’ll be room on their coach? I don’t want to be a pain,’ Freya spoke.

‘
Trust me they’ll have room. So, just get off the coach at the C Bar. I’ll meet you there and we’ll have a big drink and a chat OK?’ Emma told her.

Freya felt a surge of relief that Emma had taken control of the situation. She needed someone to lean on right now and she had been right to count on Emma, as always.

‘
OK, thanks. Look I’ve got to go, I’m next in the passport queue and I’m running out of battery, I’ll see you…’

At that moment the battery died and Freya was called forward to have her passport checked. She did the best she could to look like a school teacher and an owl and was let through into the arrivals hall.

Once there, it wasn’t difficult to find the Sun ‘n’ Sea representative. Tracey was head to toe in mint green, including her shoes. That, Freya decided, was very scary indeed. She hadn’t remembered Emma ever having to wear green and could only assume it was a recent change made by the company. Whoever sanctioned that needed serious style coaching.

Tracey pointed Freya in the direction of the Sun ‘n’ Sea coach and she was soon sat amongst the holidaymakers waiting for the vehicle to depart.

It was the sixth time she had been to Corfu. She had first visited the island with Emma when they were both twenty. It had been a package trip, the cheapest one they could find. That had been very significant at the time. It had been so much fun and had given Emma the taste for travel. She embarked on a career as a travel representative with Sun ‘n’ Sea and on her third posting was sent to Kassiopi, a pretty village with a beautiful harbour in northern Corfu. Emma had fallen in love with Kassiopi and, having also fallen in love with local boy Yiannis Petroholis, she had never wanted to leave. She now worked for a small travel company in Kassiopi, booking trips for holidaymakers by coach and boat around the island. She also guided some of the trips herself.

Freya could understand her friend’s love for Corfu and for the village of Kassiopi itself, as it was simply beautiful. Although tourism had given the place numerous restaurants, bars and even a nightclub or two, somehow it still managed to retain its traditional charm.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Tracey boarding the coach and picking up the microphone and it let out a loud screech of feedback that had everyone reaching for their ears.

‘
Good evening everyone, or should that be
kalispera
. On behalf of Sun ‘n’ Sea Holidays I would like to welcome you all to Corfu. My name is Tracey and your driver today is Spiros. Now, before we get underway, could I ask you not to eat or drink on the coach and, as the roads around Corfu are very winding in places, please use the seatbelts provided. Now, as we go along I will be telling you a little bit about Corfu and passing out some leaflets, but, before I start - I expect you will have heard by now that we have a famous Hollywood actor staying in Corfu at the moment. Yes, Nicholas Kaden is filming on the island and staying in Kassiopi. So for those of you heading to that resort, you are in for more of a visual treat than you might have expected. I hear from a reliable source that he has been spotted at several of the restaurants and bars, so perhaps you will be lucky enough to get some photos or an autograph.’

Tracey had the most monotone of voices Freya had ever heard and that would have been dreadful had she needed to listen to the information, but as it was, it was pretty much perfect to fall asleep to. Freya rested her head against the window and shut her eyes.