The mobile phone announced a new text:
What is going on? Henrikx
Since the computer was still not ready to use Hanna went back downstairs into the living room and called him.
“Ah, so you can operate a phone,” he said cynically. “Hanna, what is up with you? Why have you switched your phone off for days and what are you involved in that you need help from the union?” her brother started on her. “Have you lost your job?”
“You sound just like Dad. There is no problem. I was involved in a medical emergency on my flight. Someone died while I performed CPR on them. There is a lot of admin for me right now,” she replied sharply.
“Oh, that sounds terrible. What did the guy die of?” Henrik said, almost sounding disappointed.
“I don’t know. It was a woman and she just collapsed in the First Class toilet.”
“Dad obviously knows nothing about it.”
“Yes, and I would prefer to keep it that way,” Hanna said quickly.
“So what exactly happened?”
“I did my regular toilet checks between meal services and I noticed that one of them was engaged for a very long time. I knocked a few times and waited for a response, but nothing happened. I unlocked the door briefly, which is usually when the people inside panic and hold the door closed, so you know it is all ok. But nothing stirred, so I started to slowly open the door. It wouldn’t open properly because the body was slumped against it. We unhinged the door and there she was: Mrs White, unconscious and lying on the floor. I immediately started compressions to revive her but I never got her back.”
“That is terrible, sis.”
“You can say that again. We had to undress her for the procedure, and to get her jewellery out of the way. I was terrified of robbing her dignity, but there was no other way. One of the passengers even stepped right across the body during the resuscitation. He complained that we were blocking access to the toilets and he had to go. I guess he probably had to. We were all in shock but at the time we were still in the air and we had to feed a plane load of hungry passengers.”
“Jesus. So that is why you are at home? You are having a stress related holiday?”
“Yes, that’s right. It is a ‘holiday’. A present from the company for your lazy sister,” she said half-jokingly.
“Are you alright, though? Why is your phone switched off?”
“If it were not switched off I would be spending all day long talking about it. I just want a little peace.”
“Fair enough. I am relieved though.”
“Why, relieved? Someone died. What did you think had happened? What could be worse?”
“I thought maybe you had been drunk on the aircraft or something silly like that,” Henrik volunteered. “I thought you had lost your job!”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Hanna said. “You can stop worrying now and go back to bed. Your sister is fine.”
“OK, good night then!” He rang off.
Hanna was pleased that he had not questioned her any more. Her brother had always been a bit of an emotional nerd and easy to distract. As supportive as he could be, this kind of thing was out of his league. He was the man to call for tax returns and business plans but not for effective emotional support. There were moments when she did not feel like part of this family at all; apart from her relationship with Biddy, the ties were stiff and distant. Hanna was the only girl, easy to placate and easy to neglect. She was neither strong enough for the manly sports activities, nor clever enough for a distinction in any area. Over protected by her father and her brothers she had grown up to feel rather useless and inept, in everyone’s shadow. Only in her late teens had she transformed herself into a more outgoing and confident young woman and made good friends outside the family. Yet every time she came back home she was edged into the role of the clumsy and unskilled girl - it was demoralising and tiresome.
By now it was already 2am and she decided to try again for some sleep.
In the hallway she bumped into a slightly agitated Biddy.
“What are you doing up?” she asked her mother.
“The bathroom,” Biddy said.
“Here,” Hanna said and opened the door for her.
Biddy sighed with relief.
“Thank you.”
Hanna waited for her mother to come out of the bathroom again and then she directed her to the marital bedroom, just in case her mother could not find her way back. Biddy took a few steps into the room but then she quickly backed out onto the hallway.
“There is someone,” Biddy told her daughter with an alarmed tone. “There is a stranger sleeping in my bed.”
“Oh that would be Walter. You remember Walter?” Hanna asked suggestively.
“I don’t think so. I was too scared to look,” she said.
Hanna opened the door to her parents’ bedroom a little and pretended to examine the scene closely and thoughtfully, then she turned back to Biddy.
“That is Walter. I know him. He is all right. You can go back to sleep.”
Biddy hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. Go, get some sleep. Good night.”
Biddy reluctantly went back to bed while Hanna waited by the open door, then she waved and closed the door. That had gone surprisingly smoothly, but it was a little worrying.
Hanna went to her room and managed to catch a few hours’ sleep. Over the years as a stewardess she had learned to function perfectly on just a little rest and her somewhat insomniac state over the last few days had not really impacted on her as yet. There were shift patterns when a plane crew had several night flights in a row and could only get rest during the day, in a hotel where often other guests or cleaning staff were too noisy and made it almost impossible to shut your eyes for long. When she returned from those flights she still had to make her journey home and then do mundane things like the washing, visiting the dentist or going to the bank to pay bills. Hanna could go to extreme lengths in sleep deprivation before exhaustion finally set in. She felt lucky she had not become one of those insomniacs who had to rely on heavy prescription drugs to sleep or need entire days in bed to recover. Her body worked best if she just got on with it and fell back into the rhythm of her own making.
She woke up before 6am and decided to kill more time by going for a run until her father was up. She could do with an endorphin rush; that should help get rid of her subdued mood.
During the run she was taken back to the days of her childhood and teenage years, so many memories were waiting for her on the familiar path by the canal. She passed the little bridge where she and her teenage girlfriends had spent hours lusting after the rowers that passed back and forth underneath it. As young children she and her brothers had played a game they called Poohsticks, which just involved throwing sticks over one side of the bridge, then watching whose came out first on the other side.
However, her brothers had always won those games and none of the rowers ever looked back at her and her friends: this was not a place of great triumph for her, but it was familiar, and the disappointments were ‘water under the bridge’ now.
Old teenage angst overcame her when she ran past the bicycle track, which had only been recently added to the area, and which, during her youth, had been a place of overgrown trees and bushes. As children they had used it for hide and seek games. Growing up with two older brothers she had been exposed to her fair share of dare and scare games in there as well and did not particularly like the eerie feel that the place still had for her. She remembered all the exaggerated warnings from their parents that it was a dangerous place where homeless people slept, and where children could come to harm.
But Hanna had also had her most romantic kiss in there. One night she had been to a friends’ house for a party, the first one in her life where alcohol had been freely available without parental supervision. Over protected by her parents she had little experience with the stuff and was immediately tipsy, just on the little that she had drunk. On
e of the lads offered to take her home. With the help of her Dutch courage she grabbed his hand and then they kissed. She would never forget that moment. Nothing would ever come even close to the feeling of that evening. She had to laugh about the memories. How pure and intense teenage passion was.
The kiss was everything that mattered to her for weeks. She lay awake at night remembering it, still feeling it and even the fact that it had taken place in such a horrible and haunted location did not matter then.
When she realised how far she had run with her thoughts lost in the past she turned round immediately. It was almost seven by the time she got back and her parents were already up. She could see Walter pottering about in the kitchen and the light in the upstairs bathroom indicated that Biddy was in there. Hanna picked up the paper and let herself in through the front door.
“Well done Pumpkin!” Walter said. “You were gone for so long. Did you run all that time? That’s impressive! How far did you go?”
“I got all the way to the draw bridge on the canal.” Hanna said, while regaining her breath.
“I am proud of you. At your age and with such a demanding job as yours - well done! But do you think that you should be running in the dark by yourself? It must be quite dangerous doing that. You could have fallen and injured yourself. Not to speak about the homeless people.”
“The moon was quite bright, and the homeless were all asleep,” she said evasively.
Walter took her hand and looked at her seriously.
“Whenever you want to tell me what all the phone calls are about I would be very happy to listen.”
“Okay,” she promised but then turned away quickly.
Walter began counting out Biddy’s tablets for the day. It was unlike him to do this so late into the routine.
“I was surprised Henrik called,” Walter said to Hanna, once they had started breakfast.
“That is a great name, Henrik,” Biddy chipped in. “Do I know him?”
“Yes,” Walter answered. “He is your son.”
“Who’s my son?”
“Never mind,” Walter said and turned back to Hanna. “What did he want? He didn’t tell me.”
“Who?” Biddy interrupted again.
“Henrik!” Walter said, getting impatient with her.
“Do I know Henrik?”
“He just wanted to check in with me,” Hanna said evasively. “He does that once a month or so.”
“But here of all places? How did he even know you were here?” Walter asked.
“Who are you talking about?” Biddy asked once more. “I still don’t know.”
“Please just let us talk for a minute!” Walter said abruptly. “Tell me Pumpkin.”
“I was just asking who it is,” Biddy said quietly and sulkily.
“I know, Biddy,” Hanna told her mother. “Don’t be upset.”
“I give up.” Walter sighed.
“Who are you talking about?” Biddy insisted.
“My brother Henrik,” Hanna said. “You have met him once.”
“No, I have not.”
“You’ll know him when you see him.”
“When I see who? Who is coming?” Biddy asked, sounding even more alarmed.
“What did you have to say that for?” Walter scolded her. “Now she is going to panic about someone visiting.”
“Nobody is coming,” Hanna assured her mother, then turned back to her father. “She’ll forget about it soon enough. We mustn’t lose our patience.”
Walter shook his head in anger.
“So how is your brother?” he asked.
“He didn’t say much. Why don’t you call him and find out yourself?” Hanna asked.
“He is always so busy, I don’t want to impose. He knows where we are.”
“Who is coming?” Biddy started again.
“I give up,” Walter sighed.
“Nobody is coming,” Hanna said turning her attention to her mother again. “Do you want some more toast?”
“If someone is coming I need to get ready,” Biddy said, looking at her pyjamas.
“You have plenty of time. I’ll make you some more toast,” she insisted. “You can get ready afterwards.”
Hanna was secretly quite pleased with this disruption for her own sake; with it she was safe from Walter’s grilling. She could also not hold on to any thought long enough, and her uneasy feeling about what the phone calls represented was slipping from her mind in all the chaos of this crossed conversation. The effect was a little disorientating but refreshing at the same time.
“Dad, I need to make more phone calls this morning,” she said after breakfast. “No idea how long it will take me.”
“That is fine Pumpkin. I need to go to the supermarket today. We are short of a few things, despite your big shop yesterday. I will take your mother with me and you can have the whole house to yourself for a bit.”
Biddy was reluctant to go with Walter at first and tried to stay behind.
Hanna could see the anger in her father but he held it together and patiently persuaded her mother until she agreed to go with him.
After her parents had left the house Hanna first called Nicky, the trade union rep.
“Hanna, thank God you called! I was so worried. How are you feeling my poor darling?” asked a sympathetic voice.
“To be honest, I am not so good,” Hanna admitted.
“I am not surprised, sweetheart. Half of the crew on that flight are currently off sick with shock, and they were not even in the thick of it as you were,” Nicky told her.
“Are they alright? How about Monica, the girl that was working with me? She was in a really bad way when I last saw her.”
“She is feeling better now. She is home with her family.”
“Do you know, is Mr White pressing charges?”
Nicky took a small breath before answering:
“I am afraid he has pressed charges but his case is not looking very good. Our advice is to be in touch with our legal department as much as you can. Every letter you get: copy it and send it to us. Every email: forward it to us. Everything you write: copy us in. Or better: send it to us to approve of first. You need to tell your manager to involve us at every stage of the proceedings.”
“Is that really necessary? Isn’t the company on my side?” Hanna asked, pale with shock at the thought.
“They should be. Recently however some big companies have started to point the finger at their staff, searching for loopholes in the employment contracts regarding liability. So far we have not had any cases in the aviation industry, but we are preparing for it,” Nicky explained.
“God almighty,” Hanna said, her back beginning to sweat.
“I am sorry,” apologised Nicky. “I am better at fighting than at counselling.”
“Okay. I have had a few emails and letters from the company but all of them were very generic and didn’t say anything specific. I will forward them to you in a minute.”
“Great. Anything else you need just let us know,” Nicky said.
“Please remember that you are not allowed to talk to the press about it. The company is really sensitive about that kind of thing. Be careful with your friends, too. Make sure they don’t sell your story.”
Next on her list was the union lawyer. She doubted he would be answering his phone on a Saturday but to her surprise he answered personally after only a few rings.
“Thank you for calling me back,” he said politely.
“Thank you for doing a weekend shift Mr Lewis. So how bad is it?”
“Oh, please call me Richard,” he said. “And it is not too bad. In a nutshell: you are protected and covered by your training records and by your employment contract. From the preliminary notes that I have about your case the accusations are rather vague and far-fetched, to say the least. Unless the man comes up with something serious and new I can’t see a problem. We will, however, have to meet up with the police to go over your statement. I suggest you and I meet to g
o over your side of the story before we meet with the police. Trust me, this may be an emotional ordeal, and a little annoying for you, but as far as I can see there is no realistic threat to you or the airline at all. Everyone just has to follow procedures.”
“Thanks. You are heaven sent,” she said, exhaling with relief.
“Your manager will want to speak to you about the incident again as well. A lot of the defence that the company can build if it comes to a trial will rely on you and your statement. If you want I can call Martin and the police on your behalf and arrange both meetings right now?” Richard offered.
“That would be brilliant. Just leave me the weekend to come to myself. Is Tuesday too late?”
“Tuesday is fine. Nobody can force you to rush into it. This is not a criminal investigation, yet. Stay by your phone. I am sure I will have times for our dates with Martin and Derek in twenty minutes tops,” Richard promised.
He called her back half an hour later and informed her that he had arranged everything for Tuesday as requested.
Having set everything in motion Hanna felt better already. She was still not thrilled at the prospect of having to relive the moment and being grilled about it by people with their own agenda, but she knew couldn’t continue to hide from it forever.
Her crew community had some marvellous individuals and kind souls who would love to hear her out and lend a shoulder to cry on, but sadly many of them did have their own hectic lives and their own problems, and it felt wrong for Hanna to impose on them. Her two best flying friends were on vacation and with the airline being so adamant on keeping a lid on the affair she was unsure whom else she could trust to tell.
It was impossible to stop the rumour mill in a company like hers, but it would certainly not bode well if she was quoted personally on the incident. It was one of the most fascinating features about the flying community, that rumours could spread like a wildfire within minutes and yet it could bypass the ones most affected by it. There were stories you heard on almost every flight, in variations, and no one could remember who had told them about it. The flow of information seemed as unreliable, inconsistent and flawed as her mother’s brain.
Time to Let Go Page 10