December 6th, 1989

December 6th, 1989

Night flight from MCT – RUH – LHR
Presently relaxing in 1A, which, with the exception of a spot on the flight deck, must surely be the best seat on the aircraft. Surprisingly, there are no passengers in the First Class cabin, hence the upgraded crew rest area, which is most appreciated, especially after the two hour delay we encountered leaving Riyadh.

Rang home first thing this morning to see if mum had returned from Scotland but there was no answer. Next, I rang Catherine’s room but no reply there either.

About an hour later, there was a knock on my door. When I peered through the peephole I was somewhat pleased to see that Catherine had been reduced to a tiny, round blob.

“Morning,” I said, opening the door.

Walking right past me, she asked, “Can we order room service?”

“Hi Karen,” I said cockily. “How are you? Did you sleep well? Yes I did actually, thank you for asking Catherine.”

“Sorry, so sorry,” she yawned. “I’m absolutely ravenous.”

“Don’t tell me lover boy didn’t feed you.”

“We were otherwise occupied,” she chuckled.

“Catherine! Didn’t you just get engaged?”

“Engaged, yes. Married, no. Let’s order some nosh first, before you start lecturing me.”

Without asking what she’d like, I picked up the phone and ordered a ridiculous amount of food.

“You’re an angel,” she breathed.

“Unlike you.”

“I can’t seem to help myself,” she said, making herself comfortable on my bed.

“Don’t you love your fiancé?”

“Of course I love him.”

“Then why did you sleep with, eh, what’s his name?”

“I knew what was in store and I simply couldn’t resist.”

“Perhaps you have impulse control issues,” I said. Or maybe you’re just a slut, I thought.

Catherine propped herself up on her elbows. “I simply cannot have this conversation until after breakfast,” she said, in such a dramatic way, it made me laugh.

“Fair enough. By the way, what is lover boy’s name?”

“You mustn’t laugh.”

“I can’t agree to that until you tell me his name.”

“Witton.”

“It’s unusual but not terrible.”

“It means farm, by the wood.”

“How on earth did you find that out?”

“How do you think?” she asked, sitting up.

“Catherine, last night you couldn’t even remember his name and now you know the meaning of it? At what point did he choose to share that little nugget with you?”

Grinning wickedly, she said, “About four o’clock this morning.”

 

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