The Perfect Girlfriend

by Karen Hamilton

  Alex walks over to give me his room number and a few others gather round whilst we make plans to meet in the bar at six local time tomorrow.

  ‘I’ll need to book tickets for the club in advance. I’ve just looked it up and the DJ is marketed as “the next big thing”’ – he mimes quote marks in the air – ‘so it will be a really popular night.’

  ‘I’ll buy two tickets,’ I say. ‘A friend of mine is operating the flight due in tomorrow.’

  That way, I’ll have a spare one for Nate if I can persuade him to come along. As I step forward to receive my room key, I take a quick look around. My stomach sinks in disappointment – I am the last crew member left in the reception area.

  Nate has scarpered.

  ‘Please can I take out two hundred dollars on my crew account?’ I ask the receptionist.

  I was so busy preparing for the trip that I forgot about the mundane practical things, like exchanging money at a decent rate.

  ‘Of course.’

  She counts it out for me and places it inside an envelope, handing it over with a friendly smile.

  I head for the lifts and press the up arrow, still half-expecting Nate to appear.

  Seconds after entering my room, there is a sharp rap at the door. I fling it open. A porter.

  ‘Suitcase for Ms Price,’ he says, walking past me. With one hand, he lifts and unfolds the portable luggage stand, then places my suitcase on top.

  I slide my purse out of my bag and hand over a couple of dollar bills. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You’re welcome. Have a great stay.’

  I walk over to the window, pull apart the net curtains and lean my forehead against the glass. This hotel is set back from the strip and my room is situated at the rear. Below is a mass of buildings, streets, signs – a normal-looking city. I stifle a yawn, even though I feel too wired to give in to proper tiredness. Instead, I feel detached and dream-like. I turn round and set about half-heartedly unpacking.

  My suitcase is unusually full. Normally, I travel out with an empty one and return with it crammed. I take care hanging up my outfits, especially my dresses. I hold one particular one up against me and stare at myself in the mirror, hoping that I still love it and that it doesn’t look different here. I smile. It’s still perfect. It has a silk lining covered in plain lace and is cornflower blue, slightly above the knee. It cost more than I have ever spent on one outfit. I love it. The scooped neckline is low, so I can accessorize with a simple necklace.

  I decide on a shower to properly shake myself into alertness. Once I feel refreshed, I will consider the best way to approach Nate. He will probably stay up until later this evening, seeing as he is a stickler for ‘keeping to local time’. From conversations with other crew, I know that many people feel the same. Personally, I don’t see the point. I don’t mind being up in the night or early morning, I can always find ways to occupy myself.

  I step into the bath, pull the opaque curtain across and fiddle with the shower controls. It’s a recently acquired life skill, figuring out how to get the temperature right in hotels around the world as they vary from scorching to freezing. As I shampoo my hair to remove the sticky hairspray and the stench of the aircraft galley, I try to reframe Nate’s earlier non-reaction into a more positive one. The loud, old-fashioned ring of the hotel bathroom phone jolts me out of my thoughts. I reach out through the gap between the wall and the shower curtain and pull the receiver off the wall, holding my arm and head away from the spray of water. Shampoo stings my eyes as I squeeze them shut.

  ‘Hello?’

  Silence.

  ‘Hello?’

  I feel for the controls with my free hand, switch off the cascade of water and pat along the wall until I can feel a metal rail. Once I reach the softness of a towel, I yank it down. I dab my eyes.

  ‘Elizabeth? Lily?’

  A surge of joy. ‘Nate?’

  ‘What is going on? You nearly gave me a heart attack!’

  I smile. He does not sound cross.

  ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’d already asked the captain in briefing if I could come in for landing. I only realized you were operating when I heard your voice on the passenger PA.’ I shiver. ‘Hang on a minute; I need to get out of the shower.’ I clamber out and sit on the edge, awkwardly half-wrapping my towel around me, whilst still clutching the old-style receiver. The stinging in my eyes subsides. ‘I took your advice when we split up and decided to start afresh. Try something new. But, guess what?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Other airlines – three of them – rejected me!’

  ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Seriously. The last one said I was too enthusiastic. How can a flight attendant be too enthusiastic?’

  He laughs.

  Sheer relief floods my body as fresh hope resurfaces. I continue, ‘But, joking aside, you have been on my mind. I wanted to let you know, but at the same time, I wanted to give you space. I didn’t want you to feel duty-bound to meet for coffee in the canteen or anything, just because we’re now colleagues.’

  ‘Okaaay.’ He sounds as though he is processing his emotions through a filter. ‘How long have you been with us?’

  I smile. My answer is proof that I am totally capable of giving him his precious space.

  ‘Seven months.’

  ‘Oh . . .’ A pause. ‘Are you going down to the bar?’

  ‘No, not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Sorry, again, if I gave you a shock, but hopefully we can catch up at some point. I’ve got to go now, my boyfriend is going to Skype me soon.’

  ‘Oh. Yes. Of course. I won’t keep you.’

  As soon as I replace the receiver, I punch the air. I bet he wasn’t expecting that. No – he probably imagined I’d be outside his door on my knees, beseechingly pleading for a scrap of attention. I climb back into the shower and rinse off the shampoo.

  Seventy-two hours; that’s all I have.

  Afterwards, I wrap myself in a hotel gown. It’s a bit on the starchy rather than the fluffy side, but it does the job. I turn down the air conditioning and take a seat in front of the desk. I open the hotel information folder and take out two sheets of writing paper from the back. I doodle.

  Elizabeth Goldsmith, Juliette Goldsmith, Elizabeth Juliette Goldsmith, Mrs E. J. Goldsmith.

  Miss Price, Miss Elizabeth Juliette Price.

  By the time I decide to call the spa and book several treatments – including a pedicure and manicure – for tomorrow afternoon, my hair is almost dry. I finish it off with a final blast of the hairdryer before I allow myself the luxury of bed.

  As I drift off, I can feel welcome oblivion pulling me under, and I relax into it.

  A noise intrudes on my happiness. It is Amelia. Her sentences don’t make sense but I can make out the odd word, such as ‘responsibility’. Like cloud-hopping, I emerge into another scene. Will and I are in the old, local village park with its one small slide, two red baby swings and a climbing frame in desperate need of a fresh coat of paint in a bright primary colour, like sunshine yellow. I am pushing him in a swing and he alternates between fear and demanding to go higher!

  Beyond, looking above the park perimeter fence, I can see the hills which circle the outskirts of the village. I know that slightly further away lies the coast. A scream pulls me back into the park. Will has fallen out. I don’t know how; but something distracted me. Both his knees are grazed. Amelia will be furious.

  Bella rushes into the park wearing a nurse’s uniform, brandishing a box of plasters. A surge of injustice rages. She tells me I should have saved him. Behind her, I become aware of a river. I push her in and watch as a group of puzzled swans surround her floating body.

  I jolt awake. The room is dark. I reach for the light of my phone as William, Amelia and Bella fade back into non-existence. I check the time. Four thirty.

  Four thirty where? What time zone? What country?

  I shut my eyes. The park felt real. I turn on the side light and reach for a bottle of water. I d
rink, great big gulps. Drops drip down my pyjama top. My limbs are heavy, but I force myself out of bed, resisting the urge to sink back to the park in my dreams where problems – real ones – didn’t yet exist.

  I order room service – an omelette with a cafetière of strong coffee – before deciding to go for a swim.

  The pool is quiet, apart from an older couple completing slow lengths. I dive in, feeling the sting of chemicals shoot up my nose as I move my arms and pull my body along. I come up for air then drop beneath the surface again. I push myself physically harder than I have in a long time, until I pull myself up on to the side. I leave my feet dangling in the water and I shut my eyes, shivering a little as I mentally rehearse the days ahead.

  It’s crucial I play it right.

  Back in my room, I force myself to rest – I will need all my energy – by lying on the bed, the TV on in the background. I drift in and out to the sound of police cars, laughing and adverts. The words and sounds mix up in my consciousness, jumbling reality and fiction.

  When my alarm goes off, I sit up, feeling sick and disorientated.

  Even after a shower, I still don’t feel very alert, but I force myself to lift open the lid of my laptop and get to work, updating my plans and double-checking that I haven’t forgotten anything. I don’t want to tempt fate, but there’s no getting away from the fact that some things need preparation, not everything can be spontaneous and organic.

  Satisfied I can do no more, I cocoon myself in the spa. I accept an offer of herbal tea, and the warmth of ginger and cinnamon soothes me. After my nail treatments and facial, I sit in the hair salon, trying not to fidget, as my make-up is applied and my hair blow-dried. I ask the stylist to wave it at the ends, the way that Nate likes it.

  Pushing the key card into the lock and entering my room, my heart rate quickens in hopeful anticipation when I notice the red message light flashing on the desk phone. I pick it up and press ‘seven’ – as instructed by the automated voice – to retrieve the message, my excitement dipping when it’s not Nate’s voice.

  It’s Alex. ‘Hi, just to let you know we’re meeting a bit later than arranged. It will be more like seven o’clock.’

  That leaves me with an extra hour to fill.

  I dress. Not in my new favourite one but a simple, black shift. It is also above the knee, but loose fitting. It is the kind of dress that can be dressed up or down, sleek or casual. I place a silver, heart-shaped pendant over my head, which rests in the middle of my chest. I slide my feet into a pair of pale mauve, open-backed heels. I stand back and look in the mirror. The stylists did a good job. I shrug my arms into a plain black cardigan, then pick up the phone.

  ‘Can I have the room number for Nathan Goldsmith, please?’

  ‘Let me just check the crew list,’ says the male voice. ‘Do you want me to connect you?’

  ‘No, thanks. Just the room number, please.’

  ‘Seven eighty-two.’

  I replace the receiver and give my reflection a final going over, before I pick up my clutch bag and leave the room.

  The door clicks shut behind me as I walk silently along the carpeted corridor. The lift bell chimes as the doors shudder open. I step in and press floor seven. My mouth feels dry as I resist the urge to turn back round.

  I stop outside room 782 and listen. I can hear canned laughter on the TV.

  Taking a deep breath, I knock.

  15

  I hear the sound of an object being placed on to a hard surface. The door opens and Nate, wearing jeans and a navy T-shirt, stares.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘Hi. Can I come in for a moment?’

  He stands back to make way. ‘Yes. Yes, of course.’

  ‘Everyone at work knows me as Juliette,’ I say, strolling past. ‘I use my middle name.’

  ‘Juliette?’ He pauses, as though mulling it over.

  I turn the desk chair round to face the room and sit down. The bed feels too familiar, too intimate. I need him to feel secure; to feel one hundred per cent certain that he can trust me now that I’ve proved my feelings for him have evaporated.

  ‘Alex, the guy I’m working with, just rang to say that they’re meeting a bit later, so I had time to kill. I thought it would be good if we caught up – properly – seeing as we’ve ended up in this situation.’

  ‘Great idea,’ he says, sinking down on to the bed opposite me. ‘Drink? I have some wine.’

  ‘OK, thanks.’

  I watch as he takes out two miniature bottles of red. I turn round and reach for the tumblers on the tray beside the kettle. I remove the plastic covers and turn them the correct way round. Nate pours. His hand shakes a little as he does so.

  ‘Cheers!’ we chorus and raise our glasses in unison, as he sits back down opposite me.

  I take a sip. My mind goes blank.

  ‘I didn’t expect to find you in Vegas.’

  I laugh. ‘I know. This all feels a bit surreal. What have you been up to?’

  ‘The usual. Away. Home. Away again.’

  I smile. ‘You were right about Reading, by the way. My neighbours are great, we go out a lot. Actually, it was thanks to you that I met my new man, he only lives two doors down. I couldn’t get the Wi-Fi sorted and he offered to help. It’s early days, though—’ I stop. ‘Sorry, I’m gabbling. I’m nervous.’ I take a sip of wine; it tastes bitter.

  ‘No, not at all. I’m glad you’re happy. It’s good.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I look down at my watch. ‘I’ll head down to the bar soon. Alex knows this great club for later.’

  ‘Any other plans whilst you’re here?’

  ‘Well, seeing as I’ve never been, there’s loads for me to do. Today was a write-off, I was so tired. I understand now what it was like for you. Especially when you came home from a trip and I was there. No wonder you shipped me off to Reading – you probably needed some peace and quiet.’

  He shifts uncomfortably on the bed. ‘It wasn’t quite like that.’

  I smile. ‘I’m only joking. Anyway, now we’ve caught up, you can buy me a coffee if we ever bump into each other.’

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘For everything. It was too much too soon. You were right. It just felt so good between us and I lost all reason.’

  ‘It was good,’ he admits. ‘Mostly.’

  It’s not as though he can say anything else. You can’t argue with the truth. And it was me who fucked up. I pressed too hard on the relationship accelerator without realizing the need to ease off every now and then. I really, truly get that now.

  ‘You were right to take a step back. Thanks for the drink.’ I put down my glass. It is still nearly full but I can’t face any more. ‘I’ll head off and meet the others. Have you guys got plans?’

  ‘Barry has relatives here, so no, and the other FO is getting up early tomorrow to do a tour of the Grand Canyon.’

  ‘Join us if you feel like it,’ I say.

  ‘I was thinking of wandering down to the bar later.’

  ‘Maybe see you later, then,’ I say, standing up. ‘If not, then I’ll see you at pick-up.’

  ‘Actually,’ he says, ‘I may as well come down with you now but I need to change quickly. Especially if we’re going on out after. You’re all dressed up.’

  I shrug. ‘Not really. It’s hard to know what to wear. It’s so hot outside, yet freezing inside when the air conditioning is ramped up.’

  ‘Your hair is different,’ he says. ‘It suits you.’

  My heart rate quickens. The old Nate is re-emerging now that I seem unattainable. He whips off his T-shirt and pulls a smarter one out of his suitcase. I pretend not to watch but I can see his reflection in the mirror.

  We walk side by side along the corridor. I could easily slide my hand into his or put my arm around him, but I look ahead. When the lift arrives, it’s almost full, so we are forced apart as we squeeze in among several Dutch tourists and a family with three young boys. We hold back and step
out into the lobby, then across to the bar.

  As we enter, I am momentarily stunned by the light and noise. There is no escaping the slot machines. I narrow my eyes and spot Alex with a few of the others, which isn’t always easy, given that even the men can look different out of uniform. I locate an empty seat next to him and order a sparkling water from a waitress.

  I turn my attention to Alex. I am aware that Nate is talking to the upper-deck crew member, Joanna. Alex and I are sucked into a general group conversation which centres on the unpopular overhaul of the on-board service routine, which has been created by office workers who have never had the pleasure of serving the general public in a confined area. I pretend to join in by nodding and agreeing on certain points, but I’m trying to eavesdrop on Nate.

  ‘What about this club, then?’ I say to Alex. ‘I’m bored of talking shop.’

  ‘Fancy something to eat first? There’s a Vietnamese place which serves fantastic noodles in the same hotel as the club.’

  ‘Perfect. By the way, there’s a spare ticket going begging. My friend didn’t come in the end, she was late for work and got sent to Hong Kong instead.’

  I go to the Ladies whilst Alex sorts out the logistics with the rest of the group. I don’t want to inadvertently let Nate catch any subconscious signals of how desperate I am that he joins us – and hopefully Alex will offer him my ‘spare’ ticket, so that I don’t have to. When I return, the entire group is heading for the lobby and Alex is organizing cabs with the doormen. We pass through the revolving doors and I hang back as four people climb into the first one, leaving me, Alex, Nate and Joanna. A second taxi pulls up.

  ‘Do you mind if I take the front?’ says Joanna. ‘I get horribly car sick.’

  We all agree. Nate walks behind the taxi, opens the rear passenger door behind the driver and gets in. I slide into the middle, Alex is on my left. I am sandwiched between the two of them and I can feel Nate’s thigh against mine.