January 24th, 1991


January 24th, 1991

Anchorage, Alaska

I met Emilio on a New York trip last month and much to my delight, he showed up in the briefing room yesterday. He had previously told me about his engagement to a Glasgow girl called Tracy but I have a sneaking suspicion he’s hiding the true nature of his sexuality.

Our entire crew (all of whom are much older) decided to go skiing and we planned on joining them, until Emilio and I found ourselves in an Alaskan dive bar ‘til four this morning! Trudging through the snow on our way back to the hotel, Emilio expressed a deep desire to sleep, in lieu of skiing so I set my alarm and rang the Cabin Service Director to say Emilio had sprained his ankle and I was staying behind to keep an eye on him. I felt bad telling a little white lie but after Emilio’s dancing and stumbling routine last night, it is entirely possible!

Because it’s so cold (read as; we are both severely hung over) we decided to spend the day in the hotel. In Emilio’s room, we ordered room service and watched “Pacific Heights” followed by “Postcards from the Edge.” Over chocolate mousse (so good!) I pretended to be Doris, the old bag Mother (brilliantly played in the movie by Shirley MacLaine) and Emilio gave a stellar performance as Suzanne Vale (played by Meryl Streep.)

Emilio was in the middle of re-enacting the scene where Suzanne and her Mother are doing the foot stomping dance, when the phone rang.

“Tracy,” he mouthed, wiping a streak of chocolate mousse from his cheek. I listened as his fiancée screamed abuse from five thousand miles away, mostly over the fact she was unable to get hold of Emilio last night. Yep, I thought, that’s because he was in the dive bar, attempting to sprain his ankle! While Tracy was exercising her vocal cords (working at full capacity!) Emilio held the receiver at arm’s length, looking more than embarrassed. I crept past him and mouthed, “Ring me later,” but he motioned for me to stay.

When the not so short call was over, I could see he was drained. “Sorry your fiancée was so upset,” I offered.

“She’s got some temper,” he sighed. “She hates the fact I’m away all the time.”

“I can understand that. There’s nothing worse than trying to get through to someone, when the phone just keeps ringing,” I said, thinking back to David, adding, “Especially when they’re thousands of miles away.”

“That’s true,” he smiled, weakly, giving the impression he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m always hungry,” I laughed.

We discussed going out to eat but the room was warm and cozy, so we ordered enough food for a serious gorge fest, watched, “Ghost,” and sobbed like the saps we are!


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