December 18th, 1990

December 18th, 1990

At home, England

“So,” Richard said at the staff car park, after retrieving our suitcases off the bus. “Are you heading home?”

I nodded yes.

“And do you expect we’ll be seeing each other again?”

I gave him a questioning look.

“I don’t want to be presumptuous.”

“Ehm, eh,” I stuttered.

“Oh dear,” he said.

“Oh dear, what?”

“Your hesitancy just told me everything.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, quietly.

“It’s quite alright. I get the impression you’re still, shall we say, recovering, from the experience with your chap in LA?”

I sighed. “I think so, yes.”

“Our day together in London and evening in Philadelphia were, well, I’d go as far as to say, outstanding.”

I laughed. “I agree. And thank you.”

“Not to mention the lovely chats and cups of tea and biscuits we shared on both sectors.”

“Yes,” I nodded. “I enjoyed that too.”

“So, perhaps when your heart is somewhat healed you’ll ring me again?”

“Perhaps.”

“I do hope so,” he said with a shy smirk. “May I kiss you?”

“Here?”

He glanced around. “Not a good idea?”

“I don’t think so, you never know who’s watching. Besides, it’s against uniform regulations.”

“Kissing is?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh,” he uttered. “I never knew that.”

“Well it is for cabin crew but you lot can probably do whatever you want!”

He laughed. “I doubt that but well, in that case, I shan’t kiss you but I hope you leave knowing how much I want to.”

“I do,” I smiled, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“I sincerely hope our paths cross again, Karen. I have no plans other than family obligations over Christmas and like you I leave on Boxing Day but prior-”

“Where are you going?” I asked, if only to establish we wouldn’t be on the same flight.

“Los Angeles,” he said quietly.

“Oh.”

“Sorry, I was hoping that wouldn’t come up.”

“It’s ok,” I said. “It’s over. Life goes on, right?”

“I hope so,” he said, pecking my cheek. “I truly hope so.”

 

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