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.”
