Chasing Clouds

by Annabelle Knight

  Carla walked back through the front door at a little after six pm, with an expression on her face akin to absolute glee.

  “Went well then, did it?” Elodie asked as she poured Carla a large glass of wine and handed it to her. Carla nodded enthusiastically before taking a drink. She set the glass down on the countertop and fixed Elodie with a dogged stare.

  “It was honestly the best day of my life. I loved every single second of it. Don’t get me wrong; I’m knackered now, but a good kind of knackered. I can’t wait to see the pictures. They’re going in all the magazines; I met some other models too. Everyone was really nice and,” she trailed off and did a twirl that would have scored her top marks on Strictly, “look at what they did to me!”

  Carla whipped the baseball cap off the top of her head and to Elodie’s surprise a long sheet of dark coffee- coloured hair fell down, past her shoulders and to the small of her back. Elodie’s mouth hung open; she stared at Carla, completely agog. They had stripped her hair back to its natural colour, straightened it and then, judging by the length and thickness, added in a decent amount of luxurious extensions.

  “Oh my God, that looks incredible.” Elodie managed, still completely taken aback by Carla’s new look.

  “I love it! Martin, the hair guy, said he’d take them out for me for free in a few weeks when they’re past their best but until then I’m giving Naomi Campbell a run for her money,” Carla laughed and took another sip of wine. “How come you’re not having one?” she asked Elodie pointedly.

  Elodie shrugged and explained that she didn’t want to risk it. She had too much to do and far less time to do it in than she had banked on. Carla said nothing and instead walked over to the cupboard, took out a glass and poured Elodie a generous measure.

  “You’re having one. There’s nothing sadder than celebrating a day gone good by drinking alone, so please… save me from social suicide and have a damn drink.”

  This was more instruction than question so, without too much protest, Elodie took the glass and joined Carla. They chatted for the next hour, finished off the rest of the bottle and proceeded to start on a second. It took Carla an entire hour before she told Elodie something that, if Elodie hadn’t heard it directly from her friend’s own lips, she wouldn’t have believed.

  “I’ve met a guy,” Carla announced.

  “You’ve met someone?” Elodie asked incredulously. “When?”

  “Today actually, but when you know you know, I’m completely in love!” Carla replied, a serious expression on her face. Elodie stared at her wide- eyed. “I’m kidding! His name’s Chris and he was one of the male models on the shoot and he has a face you would never get tired of sitting on!”

  “Carla!” Elodie exclaimed, bursting into a fit of giggles.

  “Seriously though, he’s just a really nice guy. We spent pretty much the whole day chatting. Nothing really flirty, it was just friendly. But, just as I was about to head off, he asked if he could take me out. I played it cool, obviously but I let him take my number. He texted me there and then, said he wanted to make sure I hadn’t given him a fake one, which this time, I hadn’t. He is insanely hot, absolutely next- level kind of shit, imagine the love child of Channing Tatum and Ryan Reynolds, that kind of hot! The best thing about it is he doesn’t know even really know it. Funny, handsome and modest – what’s not to like?” Carla finished.

  Elodie smiled. She had quite literally, in all her years of knowing Carla, never heard her utter those words.

  “So when are you meeting up?” she asked, a sly smile on her face.

  “Dunno, I’m not texting him till tomorrow. I don’t want to look too keen, do I? Besides, what happens if he mugs me off? I’ll look like a right knob.” Somehow, Elodie didn’t think that this Chris would be mugging Carla off; he wasn’t the only one who didn’t appreciate how good- looking he was.

  Elodie finished the last of her wine, rinsed the glass and set it on the drying rack. She gave Carla a squeeze, told her how happy she was for her and then retired to her bedroom to sort out her washing. She closed the bedroom door behind her and was surprised to feel the threat of tears. She swallowed hard and told herself not to be quite so ridiculous. She needed to stop comparing herself to other people: Carla’s success was not a mark of her failure. She knew this, yet she still felt the keen sting of disappointment. Instead of allowing it to take over, she decided that she would use it to do something about her own situation.

  “What is this?” Vanessa demanded in a pitchy voice that sounded half- angry, half- wounded. She had both arms crossed tightly in front of her chest and protruding from one hand a slip of paper Elodie recognised as being her letter of resignation. Elodie looked around wildly: there were still other cabin crew members milling around and now more than one of them were staring in her direction.

  “It’s errr…” She hadn’t banked on Vanessa outing her in front of other people. Elodie looked around wildly for some way to escape but came up with nothing. “I’m sorry, Vanessa, it’s my…”

  “It was a rhetorical question. I know perfectly well what it is!” Vanessa snapped, not giving Elodie even a second to defend herself. Not that she needed to explain herself; people resigned every single day and in far worse ways than this.

  “I’m sorry Vanessa, this just isn’t working for me. I’ve really tried, honestly I have. I’ve given it a good go, but I’m just not happy and I’m not doing a good enough job because of it.”

  “Well, you’re right on that count,” Vanessa replied sullenly. She looked like a puppy that had just had a telling off for peeing on the carpet. Elodie marvelled at how quickly Vanessa managed to go from enraged, to bitchy, to hurt and back round again all in a matter of moments.

  The two women stared at each other, Elodie finding courage from the fact that she knew that she had done nothing wrong. She had given it a try and it wasn’t for her. There was nothing more she could do and Vanessa certainly wasn’t going to make her rethink her decision by acting the way she was. “Is this about your weekend off?” Vanessa asked finally.

  “Yes and no,” Elodie decided that a truthful answer was the only way forward. “The way the company operates just isn’t ideal and I need to be able to have a life outside of work.” Elodie thought about adding, “especially if the work in question is boring, repetitive and stifling,” but thought better of it. She didn’t need to add insult to injury, especially when it seemed to work for so many of her colleagues.

  “Well, there’s nothing more to say, then. You’re still in your probation period so technically you can go, but ideally, you’d stay until the end of the month. Do you think you can do that?”

  Elodie nodded slowly. The end of the month was just two days away and she wondered what the point was in making her work them.

  ‘Oh well, at least that’s a bit of extra money I suppose,’ she thought to herself, trying to be positive although it seemed more like an aluminium lining, rather than a silver one. She slung her bag over her shoulder and made to leave the airport. It had been a busy day and Elodie was exhausted: each step seemed to take more effort than the last and by the time she reached the exit, she was about ready to keel over.

  “Excuse me, missy?” a smooth- voiced American man asked from behind her. She automatically apologised and stepped to the side to let him pass. “Elodie, it’s me, remember? We met by the lockers?” Aaron laughed and waved a hand in front of her face. Elodie flushed with embarrassment. He was doing his ‘bit’ and Elodie had been too preoccupied with how tired she was to notice.

  “Of course I remember,” Elodie said, perhaps a little too keenly because for a second she thought she saw Aaron’s smile falter. “How are you?” she pressed on.

  “Can’t complain, work’s work. It pays the bills and keeps me in gear,” he answered, gesturing to his cleaning cart.

  “Gear?” Elodie asked, trying not to sound too judgemen
tal but judging all the same. ‘No wonder he’s always so cheerful,’ she thought.

  “No! Not gear gear, Jeez! I’m talking about camera gear,” Aaron said, looking both bewildered and panicked at the same time. “I’m a photographer in my spare time. As in I take pictures. I don’t have anything fancy; camera kit’s so expensive. But it’s like my dad always said, ‘You don’t need top of the range equipment to take top of the range pictures,’ you know?”

  “Well if you ever need a model, my best friend’s one. You should book her quick, though: I reckon she’ll be out of your price bracket in the not so distant future, she’s doing so well for herself.” Elodie said proudly.

  “Well, unless she currently charges no money at all then she’s already out of my price bracket. And besides, I’m not interested in people, I’m into landscapes.”

  Elodie smiled wanly and stifled a yawn, which provoked a hurt expression from Aaron. She instantly felt bad. She really did want to hear about his photography; it was just that she was well and truly shattered.

  “Sorry, I am interested, I promise. I’m just really tired too.” Elodie could hear how lame the excuse sounded, but it didn’t stop her from making it all the same.

  “No worries, look, here’s my number.” He scribbled out a number on a piece of paper he’d plucked from the depths of his pocket. “If you ever feel like listening to me drone on about photography – believe it or not, emptying bins is not my main passion in life – then give me a call, and if not, I guess I’ll just see you around.”

  He gave her a nonchalant smile and headed back, dragging his cart behind him. Elodie opened her mouth to tell him that there probably wasn’t going to be an ‘around’ seeing as she only had two more days left, but he had disappeared before the words could leave her lips. She held the piece of paper out in front of her: the number had been written in a hand that she found surprising. Bold slanted writing showed eleven digits that Elodie now knew to be his mobile number; she realised that this would probably be the only way to contact Aaron ever again and somehow that made this piece of paper extra special to her. She folded it in two and tucked it neatly into her back pocket for safekeeping. Elodie knew she didn’t want to date, at least not yet anyway, but there was no harm in hanging on to it, and besides it felt nice to have the attentions of a good- looking man for once.

  Elodie worked her last two days, and hated every minute of it. It was as though Vanessa was determined to make her remaining time as miserable as possible. Vanessa’s ill- temper and frosty demeanour seemed to have spread to the rest of the crew as on her last day she barely managed to extract a single goodbye or good wish from anyone. As Elodie emptied her locker she felt a sense of exaltation: it was over. So what if her first steps into her new career had been more of a stumble? ‘Onwards and upwards,’ she told herself resolutely. The Elodie of old would have felt beaten by this, and there was still a part of her that hung on to that negativity, but she knew she couldn’t let herself fall at the first hurdle. This was a lesson and she was damn sure that she would indeed learn from it.

  Elodie once again found herself jobless. Betty had offered her a few shifts here and there which she had taken, partially from desperation and partially because stepping back into her old life was comforting when everything else seemed pretty bleak. The extra two days’ worth of money that she had from Zip Air did little to stem the flow of impending financial doom. She had managed to pay Carla her share of the rent, but that was last month; she now had this month’s to worry about. Elodie kicked herself for being so impulsive. Were things at Zip really that bad? She wasn’t so sure now. She doubted very much that Vanessa would welcome her back with open arms.

  ‘No,’ she thought. ‘I’ve got to move forward, something will turn up.’

  Elodie spent her days either looking for work or feeling sorry for herself. Carla had begun dating Chris, the handsome male model she’d met on her hair shoot and Steph’s boyfriend Andy was back from tour. They were wrapped up in each other and probably would be until he had to leave again. Elodie felt purposeless: no boyfriend, no job and no money. Still, she had her health and her friends so that was at least something. She had resigned herself to the role of housekeeper. Carla was becoming increasingly busier by the day. She had booked a few more modelling jobs, nothing as glamorous or high end as her hair shoot but still, they paid a lot more than a shift at Betty’s did.

  Carla’s hair was practically back to normal; the colour, now a fabulous combination of dark roots that faded to icy silver tips, suited her far better. In her new role as housekeeper, Elodie felt that she was at least contributing to the running of their home in some way. She was so grateful to Carla for all she had done and wanted to show her, at least in some way, that she was thankful. She did all the washing and ironing and continually marvelled at just how many clothes Carla managed to get through each week. She cooked, cleaned and paid for things as and when she could.

  Elodie was midway through loading the washing machine when a thought suddenly hit her: Carla was basically the new Tom and she was the old Elodie. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It was barely a few weeks ago that she thought that she had come so far, and now she had fallen right back to where she had started. She shoved the clothes in angrily and shut the door with so much gusto that it bounced back open and a pair of her jeans flopped out. She shoved them back in but not before noticing a slip of paper protruding from one of the pockets. She retrieved the note and set the washer going. Opening the folded piece of paper made her heart skip a beat. How could she have forgotten? Aaron’s number, written in his distinctive, slanted handwriting, was right in front of her. Maybe she would give him a call. OK, maybe not a call – no one did that nowadays. She would drop him a text.

  ‘He might be the perfect distraction,’ Elodie thought, ‘and, more to the point, he might know some inside scoop about one of the airlines hiring.’

  She paced up and down the length of the living room, her eyes flitting between her phone and the note Aaron had given her. So far she had managed to type nothing, absolutely nothing. Why was she getting so wound up about this? He was a nice guy, a simple, uncomplicated guy; Jeez, he was an airport cleaner, he was hardly going to judge her badly for where she was right now. She typed a brief message: ‘Hi Aaron, it’s Elodie. Would be good to catch up if you’re free? No worries if not, x.’ She had felt that the last part had been essential. She didn’t want to look too eager or give him the wrong impression, so left it with one kiss on the end; two looked weird and three far too many. She pressed send. That was it now. She would just have to wait and see if he replied.

  He did, seconds later, by calling her! His number, which she hadn’t yet saved, flashed up on her screen as the phone pulsated in her hand. Staring at the phone as if it were something from outer space, Elodie sat down, then stood up and began to pace. She wasn’t about to answer his call, that wasn’t the way you did things. Everyone knows you message for a bit first, then meet up. You don’t jump straight to phone calls, Christ. Carla had once said to her that “Talking on the phone is more intimate than sex.” At the time, Elodie was sure she was joking, but now she wasn’t so certain. Aaron had hung up, or given up and Elodie breathed a sigh of relief; that was, until her phone buzzed in her hand signifying that a message had come through.

  Call screening eh? Pick up this time? Aaron x

  How did he know? Well, that was pretty obvious: she had messaged him only seconds before. The phone rang again, and against her better judgement, she answered.

  “Hi,” she said a little self- consciously. “Sorry, I was just in the middle of something,” she finished lamely.

  “Yeh, screening my call,” Aaron said without a hint of annoyance. If anything, he sounded as though he had found it amusing.

  Elodie decided not to protest: what would be the point? The two chatted amiably and when Elodie glanced at her watch she was amazed to see that time h
ad flown. Just when the conversation seemed to be drawing to a natural conclusion Aaron asked her a question she had not been expecting.

  “So I was thinking, why don’t you let me take you out for coffee some time?”

  “Oh I don’t know, I’m…” she trailed off, she had been about to say “not ready to date”, but even Elodie couldn’t deny that she liked Aaron. Even though they had spent little time in one another’s company, she had warmed to him instantly; his easy- going personality and the fact that he didn’t take himself too seriously were worlds away from anything she’d experienced with Tom and made a refreshing change.

  “Oh Jesus, you’re married aren’t you? Or taken? Or just plain old not interested? It’s alright, I’m a big boy, I can take it,” Aaron said jokingly. “But surely you’ve got room in your life for another friend?”

  Elodie laughed. She had to hand it to him, he did bring up a good point.

  “OK, yeah, coffee sounds nice,” she replied.

  “Yikes, ‘nice’. That’s like an arrow to my heart,” he said.

  Elodie imagined him clutching his chest, which made her laugh even louder. “OK, well I’m pretty free all this week. You tell me when you’re free and I’ll find us somewhere good, how’s that sound?”

  Elodie said that it sounded good and, not wanting to let on that she was currently jobless and completely available, pretended to check her diary for a free time in which to meet.

  “Ummm, how about next Wednesday?” she suggested, flicking the pages of one of her travel magazines and hoping it sounded like a diary.

  “I can’t do Wednesday I’ve got a thing, are you free Tuesday instead?” he replied.