Mile High Guy (28 page)

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 involved
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.

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.