Chapter One
Chapter One
Lou took her boarding pass out and handed it to the stewardess, watching the woman's smile, wondering how long it would take for her face to crack from the inch-thick tangerine foundation she was wearing, and the Energizer-bunny-like qualities to her smile. She shuddered and moved on down the ramp. She was met with an almost identical stewardess with bright magenta lipstick and a beehive perm. The woman looked her up and down and snatched a bored look at her boarding pass. Lou smiled inwardly as the woman's expression changed to a courteous smile, and she directed Lou to the Business class area. Lou took her pass and rolled her eyes as she looked for her seat number.
She sat down; she was in the window seat next to a woman who was busy telling her son off in the seat behind her. He was bouncing a ball off the seat and Lou noticed the young man next to him looked as if he was inches away from shoving the kid's ball in his mouth. His eye was twitching.
"Jared, if you misbehave then I will not take you to daddy's for the weekend!" The woman said in a bored, upper class voice that clearly told Lou that she had no control over the child.
She sighed heavily. 16 hours of this was going to be hell. "This must be God testing me." she muttered.
The plane took off and the kid was quiet, obviously enjoying the sickening lurches that the weather was providing. He was also humming what sounded curiously like a Marilyn Manson song�
Lou settled back and lost herself in her thoughts for a while. She noticed that people were glancing at her strangely. Well, she was used to that. She didn't exactly look the type to be travelling Business class. She looked very economy. She sighed and looked down at her clothes. Faded jeans with a rip in the knee; a white singlet with a stain on it near the hip that had clearly been caused by black spray paint; an army jacket; and a pair of severely beaten Doc Martins; her long, black curly hair had long since run amok. Not exactly a sight that you would normally see in Business class.
"Oh, screw it! Everyone deserves to fly expensive once in a while!' she thought to herself. The only reason she wasn't in economy was because she used her flying points to go up a class.
She was pulled back to reality when she felt her chair pull back. She looked up and saw that the young man behind her had used it to pull himself up right. She turned discreetly in her chair to what he was saying.
"Listen," He said to the woman with the child, "Do you want to swap seats with me so that you can sit next to your son? It's such a shame to separate the two of you for sixteen whole hours!"
"No that's all right, you don't have to--" She said looking him up and down, alarm showing in her eyes. It was clear she had counted on being separated.
"No! It's fine, I'm happy to." He cut her off and jumped up before she could argue. He stood patiently waiting in the aisle.
The woman hesitated for a moment, and then gathered up her things. She pushed her way out and sat down next to her son who was closely inspecting the consequences of shoving his face violently against the double reinforced windows of the plane. Lou silently wished the windows weren't so strong as the boy's nose made another sickly thud! on contact. Jared's mother was too busy glowering at the young man to notice the antics of her son.
The young man smiled innocently, and then turned his attention to Lou. She blinked at him for a few seconds then realised that he was waiting for her to move. "Oh! I'm sorry. I was off in another world�" She stuttered fumbling with her seat belt.
"Actually...don't worry about it." He said and took hold of the baggage compartment above, lifted himself and promptly swung into his seat. He looked at her and said, "My way was more fun." Lou gaped at him in silence.
"Uh huh." Was all that Lou could think to say. She ignored the disapproving looks they were receiving from various other passengers and focused on the young man. He was English, tall with dark brown everything. He was wearing a white shirt with a green jumper over it, and jeans. His hair was styled to a peak, which only made him seem crazier. But there was no denying that he was good looking.
"I'm Orli." He held out his hand.
"Lou." She said, taking it.
"Lou�is that short for Louise?" He asked.
"Yeah,"
"One point to me then." He tallied the 'point' up on an imaginary score board. Lou nodded mentally, check, insane passenger.
She smiled benignly and said, " Is Orli short for anything?"
"Yes. Orlando."
"That's a nice name. Orlando. Like the state. I like it. Your name I mean�not the state�" shut up, please shut up, she silently begged her mouth to stop moving. "Where are you heading?"
Orli stared at her for a moment, a small smile creasing the corner of his lips and his eyes. " New Zeland�" He said finally.
"Of coarse. That much is obvious�why are you going to New Zeland, though?" Lou said, quick to cover her mistake. Where are you headed?...well New Zeland...what a stupid question!
" Business." He said plainly, and turned resolutely towards the flip-table on the back of the chair in front of him. He concentrated on pulling it apart for a good five minutes, in silence.
Lou received the impression he was holding something of the truth back, but she didn't press it.
"So what do you do for a living?" He asked suddenly, frowning at the lever on the flip-table, no longer attached to the table, but little more than a twisted piece of broken plastic in his hand, he shrugged and turned back to Lou.
"Well�I'm a make-up artist by profession, but I'm going to New Zeland to work on special effects�ah�stuff."
His eyebrows shot up at this. "That's a cool occupation."
"Well, I like it. It won't get me far though."
"Why is that?" Orli said, seeming genuinely interested.
Lou found herself gladly opening up to him. "The talent of producing fake wounds and sticking wigs to people's heads is not exactly what the world - and my parents - would refer to as�a lucrative business�But then again, if my parents disapprove of it, it couldn't be wrong. Could it?"
Orli smiled, silently agreeing with the little corner of his brain that was chanting the words "this girl is ok" repeatedly. They chatted on late into the night before they finally went to sleep.
At some time in the night, Lou woke to see the sun rise above the clouds through the small inadequate window. It was a beautiful sight and bathed half of Orlando's face in an orange-crimson light. His face was peaceful and angelic while he slept, his spiky little eyelashes causing adorable, raccoon-like shadows to play under his eyes. She was reminded of a nightdress her friend had owned when they were younger. It had a picture of a child-like angel asleep on a cloud, with the words 'ANGEL WHEN SHE SLEEPS' written on the front. She smiled at this memory and thought that this was exactly how he was, a perfect angel�except when he was awake. She looked again at his face and noticed that he had an endearing little scar on his chin. She let her eyes wander and she noticed that he was very tanned and had large, graceful hands. Seeing that he was still asleep, she slowly raised her hand next to his. His fingers were long and slender, brown and his nails were paler, and short. They had an out-doorsy look.
She suddenly thought about how they would feel on her skin; on her neck; on her back; on her hips. She snatched her hand back and looked away, wanting the thought out of her mind. It was one of those moments where she scanned the other passengers on the plane and wondered if any of them could read minds... She looked back at his face and got the shock of her life. Instead of the restful face she expected to find, she looked strait into his eyes, and he was watching her quietly, that curious little smirk once more adorning his lips. How long had he been watching her?!
He blinked and smiled.
Suddenly the plane began to lurch violently. Orlando threw his arm across Lou, supporting her, while supporting himself against the seat in front. Lou held on to his arm as she stared wildly around the cabin.
The seatbelt sign came to life with a loud 'bleep', and the moment passed. The captain apologised for the lack of warning and that there was no more turbulence. Other passengers were all talking at once and Lou realised that she still clung to Orli's arm. She grudgingly let go.
"Nothing like a plane crash to wake you up in the morning." He said, trying to calm the obviously traumatised Lou down, with a pitiful joke. "At least I've always thought so..." He finished slowly, turning to look out the window.
"Ooh!" He prodded Lou, then pointed out of the window to the landscape below. His hand was on her knee, and Lou looked out the window, completely still, trying to look like she hadn't noticed.
"You can see the mountains if you look closely." He said, looking at her. "Come on, look!" He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her down next to him. Their faces were almost touching and suddenly Lou didn't mind the windows being so small...
"God, I hope we're not going to land in that!" He said pointing to the mountains.
She laughed, "We're not so primitive that we don't have an airport. Look we're descending." She was speaking to stop herself from focusing on his closeness. She could feel his breathing, his chest expanding against her. She had an incredible urge to giggle like a school-girl. But the moment passed and they were pulled back by the voice of a stewardess.
"We will be landing in a few moments, can you please put your seat in the upright position?" She asked, smiling so hard it could have caused tears. They began to land, and as usual, Lou felt her fear of flying rise up again like a flame from the pit of her stomach, licking at her heart.
She tensed up, but felt a warm hand on her arm. She turned to look at her new travelling companion. He was looking concerned and she shook her head. "I'm not good with the landing and taking off bit." She explained.
He nodded and held her hand. "If I say something, will that help?"
She closed her eyes and held her breath. " Sure, have a crack at it." She muttered through gritted teeth.
" What is it about landing and taking off that worries you?"
She turned to him in shock and gave a nervous little laugh. " Of all the things you could have said to make me stop worrying�that would not have been my first guess. But I suppose it's something about�the weight of the plane�it's unnatural heaving something this heavy, with this many people in it, into the air. You know, gravity and all that stuff�this is not helping."
Orli nodded and patted her hand - gripped around his own - with his spare hand. "Close your eyes then, and it'll be over soon. Do you want me to sing you a song?" He asked with a childish giggle.
"No, what I really want is for you to be quiet." She said, trying not to smile. But it worked, the warm pressure of his hand on hers, and the soft, almost inaudible sound of him breathing made her stop noticing the tummy-sickening descent of the plane. Finally she felt the lurch and muffled screech of the tires hitting the runway.
"It's over." He whispered in her ear.
She opened her eyes and let go of his hand. "Thanks."
"For what? Comforting you?" He started to get up, reaching into the storage above. He pulled down her things and then his.
"No. For not singing. Are you ok getting to where you need to go? I can drive you?" She asked hopefully.
"No, I'm actually being picked up. My boss is sending someone." He sounded distant, his voice trailed off at the end His nonchalant tone didn't leave any clues, adding yet another level of mystique to his profession�
"Oh, right. Well, it was nice meeting you Orlando. You made my plane trip an enjoyable one." She hesitated and put out her hand. He took it and looked into her eyes. Instead of shaking her hand, he pulled her to him. They had a short, but warm hug.
"Bye, Lou."
"Bye."
She walked away, but kept looking back. He was perched against his suitcase, with his arms crossed, watching her leave. What she couldn't see was the conflict in his face. She stood on the threshold of the big doors to the airport and turned back to look at him once more. Still watching her. She looked down into her palm. There was her name and phone number written on a serviette from the plane. She wanted to drop it right here and forget about it. But part of her wanted to run back to Orlando and give it to him. But she knew that if he had wanted it he would have asked. She looked down again and let it slip from her fingers, watching it flutter to the ground. She turned away and left him behind.
***