October 1st, 1989

October 1st, 1989

Hilton Hotel

Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates

Yesterday’s fiasco ended at five this morning, when it was finally decided that, due to the uncooperative undercarriage, the flight was cancelled. The passengers were offloaded and none too happy with the fact that instead of going to Delhi, they’d be spending who knows how long in various hotels around Abu Dhabi. I certainly didn’t envy the mammoth task the ground staff had, locating rooms for everyone.

Needless to say, we were absolutely shattered when we got back to the hotel but soon perked up when we discovered we’re being sent home tomorrow. Mr. Fenwick invited everyone to his room for a “nightcap,” and with such good news, almost everyone went.

There was much laughter over some of the stuff that happened on this trip and Fenny had us in stitches with his ability to add actions to his storytelling, he’s a natural comedian for sure. I wasn’t at all surprised to learn he went to drama school for a few years, before joining British Airways.

“Is everything ok with you doll?” he asked, plopping his bulky frame on the floor, next to me. “You seem a bit quieter than usual.”

“She’s upset because our rosters got changed,” Laney said.

He gave me a questioning look. “Where were you scheduled to go next?”


“What’s so great about LA?” he asked.

“She has a guy there,” Laney chimed in.

“Eh, excuse me Laney, I do have a tongue you know.” I stuck out my tongue, fortunately Laney didn’t see me do it but it made Fenny laugh.

“Laney love, do us a favour and get us a top,” Fenny said, pointing to our empty glasses.

“If I must,” she said in a huffy tone. “What do you want Karen?”

“Same again please.”

“I’m not a mind reader,” she said, shaking her head.

“Bubbles. Please.”

“What about you, Fenny?”

“It’s mister Fenwick to you,” he teased.

She rolled her eyes. “What can I get you mister Fenwick?”

“Another gin and tonic with lots and lots of lemon. Please.”

“Okie dokie.”

“Cheers love,” he said, in such a perky tone you’d never have guessed he’d been up all night, working.

“That’ll keep her busy for a while,” he whispered. “There’s not a lick of gin to be found anywhere round here, I’m drinking vodka. Now, spill the beans about this guy in LA. And feel free to dwell on the juicy parts.”


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