March 15th, 1989

March 15th, 1989

At home

The postman came twice today with not one but two letters from Ben and of course I’ve memorized every word of each six-page letter. And that’s not the only good news I received today.

I was sitting at the kitchen table this morning, enjoying my tea and toast, poring over Ben’s first, especially lovey dovey letter, when the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Good Morning, I’m looking for Karen.”

“This is Karen.”

“Hello, this is Martha from British Airways crewing.”

“Oh, morning, how are you?”

“Very well thanks, and you?”

“Excellent, thanks. I was beginning to think I’d never get called out.”

“Well that’s about to change. I’m calling you for a trip tomorrow night.”

“That’s great.”

“Do you have a pen?” she asked.

“Hold on a sec please,” I said, stretching the phone cord to its limit so I could grab the pad and pen off the shelf.

“Ok, go ahead,” I said, cradling the receiver on my shoulder.

“Report time is twenty forty-five tomorrow night.”

I scribbled quickly. “Ok.”

“Flight number is the BA one six three.”

More scribbling, “Ok.”

“Returning on the BA one six two, March nineteenth.”

“Thank you,” I said, putting the pen and pad down.

“Did you get everything?” she asked.

“I did, thanks.”

“Do you have any questions?”

Scanning my scribbled notes I said, “No I, oh actually yes I do. Where am I going?”

“Tel Aviv.”

“Fantastic, thank you.”

Guess I better start packing for my first trip to Israel.

 

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