August 4th, 1990

August 4th, 1990
At home

Mum filled me in on the family drama that occurred in Scotland but said, regardless of what transpired, they managed to give Granda, “A lovely send off,” which was nice to hear.

“Tell me something funny, hen. I need a wee laugh.”
“I met Mel Gibson.”
“Ye did? In Hollywood?”
“No,” I laughed. “He was on our flight out to LA.”
“Fancy that, is he handsome?”
“Not really, I mean he’s not unpleasant to look at but he’s not very tall.”
“Is he no? He looks tall.”
“He’s about my height.”
“He must wear platforms in all those films,” she laughed. “Did you talk to him much?”
“Well, I went up to First Class to grab some biscuits for crew rest and while I was there I thought I’d pop into the loo.”
“Oh, I remember those First Class toilets with all the lovely smelly things, different world.”
“Certainly is. Anyway, he was standing outside the loo and he smiled and I smiled back but we didn’t speak. I knew I recognized him but I couldn’t place him so I went back into the galley to pick out some biscuits and I asked the First Class purser if the guy waiting outside the loo was crew.”
Mum let out a hearty laugh.
“I know, right? So, Johnnie smirked and whispered to me that it was Mel Gibson, which of course when he said it, made me realize why he looked so familiar. Anyway, I picked out a bunch of biscuits and stacked them on a plate, then Mel himself came into the galley.”
“Wit did he say?”
“You guys are having too much fun in here.”
“Wit else?”
“Johnnie told him I mistook him for crew and he, Mel, cracked up laughing, then he grabbed a biscuit off my plate and disappeared back through the curtain.”
“Mel Gibson stole my lassie’s biscuit,” mum shouted, cracking up laughing. “Oh, hen, that’s brilliant, wait ‘til you tell dad, he’ll love that. He likes those Mad, what are they called, Mad Rex films?”
“Mad Max.”
“Oh aye, they’re no my cup of tea but dad loves them.”
“Wait, there’s more.”
“Oh, go on.”
“Right before landing, Johnnie phoned and asked me to go up to the First Class galley and when I did, Mel was there. He handed me a page of First Class stationery with his autograph and…”
“D’ye have it?”
“Yeah, it’s in my bag somewhere. He said maybe in his next movie he’ll play a Flight Attendant, then he cracked up laughing and went back to his seat!”
“Oh, I love it!”
“Then, when I came out of the terminal with Mica, a lovely girl I was working down the back with, Mel walked past us, very nonchalantly with only a backpack, to a waiting car.”
“Was it a limousine?”
“No, it was actually beat up looking, you know the American station wagons with the wood panels on the side?”
“Oh aye, they’re auld.”
“Anyway, inside was a woman driving, who I assume to be his wife, and a ton of kids in the back.”
“He’s got quite a few kids.”
“That was probably them. Anyway, Mica stopped in her tracks and said, ‘Do you think that was Mel Gibson?’”
“Did you tell her you got his autograph?”
“No, I just said that bloke is too short to be Mel Gibson.”

July 15th, 1990

July 15th, 1990

Night flight from LAX – LHR

Feeling utterly miserable as we wing our way home on the BA 282 which, thankfully, isn’t very busy. Some of the crew are taking advantage of the bunks on this two hour crew rest but I have too much I need to write.

The sadness began creeping in the minute the alarm woke us up at seven this morning, which, on a Sunday ought to be a crime. In between people watching on The Strand, we ate breakfast on the roof and chatted nonstop about nothing in particular.

In the car on the way to the hotel, David shocked me by asking how many kids I think I’d like.

“One,” I stated, with no forethought.

“No way. Only children are a nightmare,” he said, trying not to laugh, as I playfully whacked his leg. “Let’s try this again. How many kids do you see yourself with?”

He shook his head when I gave the same answer.

“Ok,” I said. “Your turn.”

“Three,” he said, with no hesitation. “Definitely three. At least.”

I laughed. “Wow, good luck with that!”

He squeezed my thigh and I watched him grin. He didn’t take his eyes off the road but his expression was so beautiful that I took a snapshot of it in my mind and know that image will be with me for a long time to come.

I felt the lump forming in my throat long before we got to the hotel and when we pulled into the parking spot I swallowed hard.

“Have a nice time with your family, I hope your mum enjoys her birthday.”

He squeezed my hand. “I wish you were coming with me.”

“Me too,” I said, my voice, cracking.

“Let’s figure out a way to get together again this month.”

“This month?”

“Yeah, why not,” he shrugged, gently wiping a tear off my cheek. “We can figure this out, I know we can.”

“I’d love that.”

“Deal?”

“Deal,” I said, kissing him one last time.

The lobby was a hive of activity and I had a quick chat to some of my crew that were meeting for breakfast but aside from not being hungry, I knew I needed to cry so I went straight to my room.

I recognized Ben’s scribbly handwriting the second I opened my door and picked up the envelope. My first instinct was to tear it open but instead, I left it on the bed and went to take a shower. I’m a true believer that there’s no better place to sob your heart out, than in the shower and today was no exception.

By the time I emerged from what looked like a steam room, I felt much better but the prospect of spending the day alone was not at all appealing. Ben’s note taunted me from its spot on the bed and I tried to ignore it but clearly, willpower isn’t exactly my strong point.

Hey you give me a ring, I’m in room 301.

I met him in the lobby twenty minutes later.

“Fancy a stroll down to Venice Beach?” he asked, his voice a little shaky.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

As we walked, an awkward silence between us, the irony of us being together in a place we’d long talked about visiting and maybe even living someday, was not lost on me.

Ben was the first one to speak.

“Are you in love with him?”

“Why are you asking?”

He shook his head. “Has he told you he loves you yet?”

“Uh huh,” I muttered.

He stopped in his tracks. “When did he tell you?”

I stopped and stared at him. “Two hours ago.”

 

July 10th, 1990

July 10th, 1990

At home

The good news is David doesn’t have to go to India!

The bad news is I’ll only be with him for two nights.

But, as mum is fond of saying; “Enjoy yerself, yer a long time deid!”

 

July 5th, 1990

July 5th, 1990

At home

Hectic day with the young cousins at the pictures (dreadful film called, “Look Who’s Talking,”) followed by shopping and ice cream at John Lewis.

Managed to escape to Florence’s tonight.

“It’s not that I don’t like them,” I sighed, knocking back more than a gulp of wine that went down far too easily. “I’m just not used to being around needy kids.”

Florence chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“That you see them as needy when I see them as just being kids.”

“Ugh, they’re annoying!”

She cracked up laughing. “You’re such an only child.”

“I am, I really am! There’s no hope for me!”

“How’s your mum’s sister, is she getting on your nerves as well?”

“Don’t get me started. I mean, she can be fun sometimes but she’s even more needy than the kids.”

Florence nodded her head. “That’s the impression I got the other day. She’s nothing like your mum.”

“No, not at all. My mum, as you very well know could never be considered selfish.”

“Never. Liz is great. They do look alike though.”

“Totally but I don’t think you’d take them for ten years apart.”

“No, your mum looks much younger.”

“She does. Oh well, family stuff.”

“Tell me about it. I suppose it’s lucky you’re working again tomorrow,” she said, topping up my wine glass.

“Thanks, that’s lovely.”

“Where are you going again?” she asked. “I can’t keep track.”

“I don’t know, I’m back on standby first thing in the morning, so don’t let me drink too much.”

Florence never listens. I love that about her!

 

July 3rd, 1990

July 3rd, 1990
Flight from CAI – LGW
At home

Couldn’t sleep at all last night so I finally gave up and started reading, “Life in the Palace,” by Carol Birch, which I managed to finish and no, it had absolutely nothing to do with Buckingham Palace!

I was on the last few pages (so sad) when call came at three am (ugh!) Roughly eight hours later we landed back at Gatwick. Crew transport took us back to Heathrow, then a two-hour drive home to a full house.

I had no idea mum’s younger sister was coming down from Scotland with her two of her four girls. We spent the afternoon in the garden and the girls each took turns posing for pictures in my uniform, which was very amusing.

Tonight, we went ice skating and I’m more than ready for bed!

July 2nd, 1990

July 2nd, 1990

Cairo, Egypt

Thought about going to the pool this morning, where I knew I’d find most of my crew but as usual I’ve been eating far too much to feel comfortable in a swimsuit so instead, I went for a walk and bought cheap sandals and a skirt I’ll probably never wear.

Spent the rest of the day here in my room, reading and writing all sorts, as well as several letters and postcards, all in between not one but two rounds of room service.

Skipped meeting the crew for dinner. With the amount I ate today I shouldn’t need to eat again ’til next month!

 

June 28th, 1990

June 28th, 1990

At home

I’m so looking forward to moving into my house where I’ll be able to, for example, stay on the phone with David for as long as I want with the freedom to say whatever we want, without mum lurking about!

“Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“Not today,” he said. “My flight got in just before midnight.”

“Oh wow, that’s late. By the way, before I forget, Crystal had no clue when you were due back.”

“Crystal is no longer with the company.”

“Aw, how sad. Not!”

He laughed. “She lasted two days longer than most of the others.”

“That doesn’t say much for them. You need to hire some middle-aged fuddy-duddy who can actually talk to your clients without chewing gum and using the word like every few seconds.”

“Great advice,” he said, no doubt smiling.

“Then again, such an animal may not exist in your neck of the woods.”

“I think you’d be surprised.”

“Well from what I’ve seen, everybody is young and beautiful in LA.”

“Thanks honey,” he chuckled.

“Oh aren’t you funny. Anyway, where were you?”

“Delhi.”

“Ugh, such a long flight.”

“It wasn’t so bad.”

“I thought you weren’t going away until the end of July?”

“That was the plan but we had a crisis in Delhi and I’m the only unmarried with no kids guy in our department.”

“So they sent you!”

“Yup but my boss felt so bad that he authorized a First class ticket, which cost more than I make in a month.”

“Mental prices. Did you fly First both ways?”

“I certainly did!”

“Jammy bugger.”

I loved the way he couldn’t speak for laughing, which in turn gave me the giggles.

“Yup, that’s me,” he said, still laughing. “Young, beautiful and jammy.”

Most definitely.

 

June 27th, 1990

June 27th, 1990

At home

Obviously, I must have been suffering from a severe bout of jet lag when I made this morning’s early appointment at the doctor’s. All I needed was a new prescription for the pill, which is a joke considering the few occasions when I’ve required “Protection.”

Spent the afternoon with Lulu I used to work with when we were bored secretaries. She has since moved into the “Mummy Zone,” which, from where I sat today (literally!) looks exhausting. Her little girl Nat is really sweet but the amount of attention kids require appears well above my capabilities. I don’t think I could cope with more than one child and of course writing that I can only think of Granny and the fifteen babies she gave birth to.

Mum and I went to see “Stanley & Iris,” which we both enjoyed. Jane Fonda and Robert De Niro had great chemistry and I know they’re actors but regardless, I think you can tell when they actually like each other.

If I was looking from the outside in, I’d observe that David and I have good chemistry. And with my new prescription filled, I plan on putting that to the test on July 13th!

 

June 26th, 1990

June 26th, 1990

At home

Such a difference in the weather between the heat and humidity we left in New York and the drizzly day we arrived to at Gatwick airport.

Rang Pamsy for a general catch up, plus I wanted to find out how her birthday celebrations went.

“It was lovely,” she said. “We had so much food.”

“I could devour some yummy barbeque stuff right now, I’m starving.”

“Me too,” she laughed. “How was New York?”

“It was great. I flew with some really nice girls that I’ll attempt to keep in touch with but you know how that goes.”

“Good intentions and all that.”

Exactly. There’s just never enough time is there? I can’t even remember the last time we got together.”

“I know, it’s mental, we really do need a proper catch up soon.”

“Well, when I move into my new house you can come and stay.”

“How exciting, I’ll love that. Hey, did you see your New York friend? I can never remember his name.”

“Yes, Christopher. Saw him on both legs of the trip, in fact I had lunch with him in Central Park yesterday.”

“Aw, that sounds lovely. How is he?”

“He’s great, he’s always great, that’s just the kind of person he is and uh, it was strange, you know I’ve never fancied him, right?”

“No, he’s just a friend, isn’t he?”

“Hmmm, I can’t explain it but I kind of saw him in a different light.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know him so well and we always have a such a lovely time together and I always think of him in a friend only kind of way but something changed yesterday.”

“How so?”

“At one point, I looked at him and saw how attractive he is, so much so that I felt I wanted to kiss him.”

“The plot thickens.”

“It does actually but not in the way you’d expect.”

“Ooh,” Pamsy cooed. “Go on.”

“He’s in love.”

“With you?”

“No, no, no, not with me, with some girl called Lori he met whilst playing tennis.”

“Ugh, a fittie.”

I laughed. “Not exactly our cup of tea.”

“Not even. So, will you see him again or not?”

“I don’t know. If she’s the possessive type she won’t want him hanging around a girl that shows up every so often.”

“Especially one that wants to kiss him.”

“I think that was just the humidity getting to me.”

Pamsy laughed. “Eh, I don’t think so, I think you just realized you like him, more so since it sounds like you’re too late.”

I sighed. “Why does it always have to be like that?”

“Human nature,” she stated. “We always want what we can’t have.”

 

June 25th, 1990

June 25th, 1990

Night flight from JFK – LGW

Winging our way home after a great trip and an interesting day in NYC.

After breakfast with Jane and Caroline, we rang Amanda.

“Go away,” she groaned.

“How was your evening with Issac?”

“Ridiculously late.”

“Anything else we need to know?”

“I need to sleep,” she said, hanging up.

“She had better spill the beans on the crew bus,” Jane said, making us laugh.

Left the girls and moseyed up to Central Park to meet Christopher. He was actually a little late, which is very unusual for him.

“Hi,” he said kissing my cheek. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “It’s all good.”

“Did you get lost?”

He nodded his head. “Crazy, huh? I’ve lived here my entire life but this is my first time here in this area of the park.”

“Tut, tut, tut,” I teased. “You need to broaden your horizons.”

He laughed. “I had to call my Father, who of course wanted to know why I needed to be here.” “Did you tell him?”

“I did,” he smiled.

“You better stick with me so you don’t get lost again. Here you go,” I said, passing him a sandwich. “I got you a Rueben.”

“Cool, thanks. Man, that’s heavy.”

“Try carrying it all the way through the park in this heat,” I laughed.

“What’d you get? Let me guess, a turkey avocado?”

“How did you know that?”

He tapped his finger to his temple and I tried not to react to the way he carefully unwrapped the wax paper but of course I couldn’t keep my big mouth shut!

“It’s not a birthday present, Christopher! Oh, and I got you a Snapple,” I said, passing the drink to him.

“I’m a little scary, huh?”

“Not at all. You’re just being, what shall we say? Particular. You’re just being particular.”

“Or a pain in the ass,” he said, twisting the top off the bottle. “You want some?”

“No thanks, I have vodka,” I said, trying to keep a straight face.

He cracked up laughing. “Is that because I’m a pain in the ass?”

“You are not a pain. You’re really great company,” I said, taking an ample bite of my sandwich.

“Thanks you,” he said, with a smile that for the first time ever, I found utterly attractive. So much so in fact that my stomach did a little churning movement which I’m not attributing to hunger.

“So,” I said, promptly averting my gaze. “Are you seeing anyone?”

His resounding, “Yes,” took me by surprise.

“Oh really, who?”

“Her name is Lori.”

“When did this happen?” I said, hoping my tone didn’t reflect my feeling.

“Not long ago but it’s moving pretty fast.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty cool.”

“What does she look like?”

He perched his drink on his knee. “She’s blond. About your height. Brown eyes,” he said, looking at me. “A real sweetheart.”

“What else?” I asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“She’s kinda like you.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, it’s funny,” he said, his eyes moving toward the fountain. “I never thought of it before but yeah, she’s like the American version of you. With longer hair.”

“You should run while you can!”

“No way, no way,” he laughed. “She’s awesome and so easy to get along with, I really like hanging out with her.”

“I’m so happy to hear this,” I said, not entirely sure if I meant it or not.  “You never tell me anything like this.”

“There’s been nothing to tell.”

“But now there is! How did you meet Lori?”

He laughed and shook his head.

“What? Was it in some seedy and sordid way?” I teased.

“Do you consider playing tennis seedy and sordid?”

“Of the worst kind,” I laughed.

Ah, Christopher, sounds to me like game, set and match.