March 25th, 1989

March 25th, 1989

Shuttle from BDA-TPA-BDA

Princess Hotel, Hamilton, Bermuda

We operated the Tampa shuttle again and this time I managed to get a hold of Miriam.

Apparently, she received a phone call from the Orlando Police department with regard to what Pamsy and I have come to refer to as “Jumpergate.” Otherwise known as “The Time We Were Robbed In Orlando.” The police officer Miriam spoke to, told her there were a spate of thefts at the hotel, all reported by guests. It was enough to make management set up cameras, where they discovered a few employees from the housekeeping department had a racket going, stealing all kinds of belongings from guest rooms. I can’t wait to hear Pamsy’s reaction to this!

Felt so fat today and my hair was just an absolute disaster. The water is soft here and makes my hair feel fluffy and unruly, horrible combination. On a brighter note, I’m getting paid to spend the day in paradise!

Slight delay leaving Tampa so we didn’t get back to the hotel until closer to midnight and

no one was interested in going out. Suzanne claimed she was suffering from too much sun and went straight to her room. Annabel invited me to her room, which was amusing, considering we have adjoining rooms. I was expecting her to order more mixers for the half bottle of rum that remained, but instead she ordered tea and a selection of desserts from room service. As well as a bottle of champagne.

“This is very civilized,” I said, removing lids from the various dishes on the room service table.

“Well of course darling. Civilization is the name of the game. I’ve been thinking how much fun we could have in the city. You must come and stay sometime.”

“Is that where you live?” I asked.

“Yah. We have the family estate in West Sussex but I share a small pad with my brother in Chelsea.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother?”

“Oh yah, two actually, Henry and Hugo. I share with the older one, Hugo. But not for much longer.”

“Why not?”

“He’s moving in with his girlfriend.” She rolled her eyes, “Much to mummy’s dismay. Anyway, enough about family drama. Do tell me more about Ben. Tea or champers first?”

“Tea, please.”

“Shall I be Mother?” she asked.

“Yes, please.” I held up my cup to her. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

“I can’t explain a six year on and off relationship in one evening.”

“Start at the beginning,” she said, gesturing for me to take my pick of the desserts.

 

When I finished the condensed version of my years with Ben, Annabel responded with, “fascinating.”

“That’s all you can say?”

“No, but I expect that’s all you want to hear of what I have to say.”

“No, go on,” I urged.

Sitting up straight in the wing chair, she said, “None of it makes sense to me. Absolutely none of it. You seem so together.”

“I am and to be honest, a lot of it doesn’t make sense to me either.”

“Oh goodie, so at least you’re not stark raving mad?”

“I don’t believe so.”

“What about you? Are you seeing anyone?” I asked.

“Of course,” she said, draining the last of her champagne.

“Go on.”

“I have several on the go but that will all end when I turn twenty-six.”

“Why?”

“That’s when I’ll leave British Airways and join the BBC. Four more years of flying will be sufficient. Five in total.”

“Is that so?” I asked.

“Yes. It is. Actually.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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