by Helga Jensen
Someone in the row in front hears him say the word ‘die’ and starts sobbing.
I am finding it difficult to remain composed, as I want to get off this flight alive as much as anyone, but I have every confidence in the captain. He sounded very authoritative and, if anyone can get us out of this, someone with a voice like that most definitely will.
‘I’m sure the captain knows what he’s doing, okay,’ I say, grabbing hold of Jamie’s clammy hand.
I can’t believe how rational I am being. I am normally the first one to crumble in a crisis, but it might also be something to do with the amount of champagne I have been drinking. Business class is definitely the best place to be in an emergency situation like this.
Jamie holds my hand tight. I stroke his arm with my other hand to calm him down.
‘It will be over soon,’ I say. ‘It will be over…’
‘What if it is over? What if our lives are going to end now?’ he says. I can see his legs are shaking he is so scared.
‘I meant the turbulence will be over. Life’s not going to be over,’ I say. ‘The captain will get us out of it.’
‘What if it was though? What if we are about to die? I never even told you how much I love you,’ Jamie says.
‘I love you too, Jamie. You know that, and I know you love me. We’ve been friends forever and ever,’ I say.
‘No, I mean I truly love you, Amelia. You don’t get it, do you? I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you. I remember it like yesterday. You were wearing orange leopard print socks, with one of those rah-rah skirt things. You looked like one of those girls in the crowd on Top of the Pops. Stunning you were. I never got that sight out of my head. I loved you from that moment onwards.’
‘What did you say?’ I ask, shocked. I quickly remove my hand from his. I had hoped that nobody would ever remember that skirt and definitely not those socks. If we are going to die, then I don’t want that to be his lasting memory of me.
‘I’ve always loved you, Amelia. Always. There is nobody I’ve ever loved as much as you, and now we are going to die in a plane crash and I have left it too late,’ he says. ‘All because I was too chicken to tell you how I felt and didn’t want to spoil what we have together.’
I am taken by complete surprise by this. Not for a moment did I ever expect Jamie to feel this way. He certainly hid his feelings very well. But then, I suppose, so did I. The thought of him and Megan together made me so envious, but I hid it from everyone and didn’t tell a soul. I would never have been courageous enough to tell Jamie how I felt about him.
I lean over and kiss Jamie gently on the lips. As I consider Patrick, I realise that this is so incredibly naughty of me but, if I am truly honest, I thoroughly enjoy it.
Chapter 36
Heathrow airport – back with my boys
The upside of the flight from hell is that due to a delay, and an attempt to land three times, the boys have landed at practically the same time as us. Just as well Dick now knows about my transatlantic adventure.
Tanja Tart is looking a little dishevelled in the arrivals hall, and it gives me great pleasure to witness that she is almost human after all. She has a huge red wine stain down the inside leg of her white linen trousers and, if I am not mistaken, there is a blob of mash on her newly purchased Donald Duck T-shirt. This gives me an enormous feeling of satisfaction.
I stop smirking to myself to give Rupert and Jasper the most enormous, humungous hugs anyone could ever give another human. I hold them so hard that I am almost stopping the circulation to their chubby little cheeks.
‘Oooh, come here you two,’ I say, grabbing them tight for an extra hug. I feel pretty sure that Jasper has grown since I last saw him.
I am absolutely thrilled that Dick agrees they can come on the drive home with me and Sian. Despite the long drive, Sian was adamant she would come and collect me from the airport. She said that she couldn’t wait a moment longer for the gossip (the Welsh term clecks was what she actually used). Although I have a lot of her exciting news to catch up on too, by the looks of things.
‘Let’s see the ring,’ I squeal. ‘Oooh, it’s even more gorgeous in real life.’ I hug Sian.
Jamie says his goodbyes, as he has to go straight over to his head office in London. He has to give the staff a talk about what he learnt at the conference, which is understandable after having been given such a wonderful trip on the company expenses. I’m glad we don’t have to share a car journey home; I don’t know what I would say to him. It’s all so embarrassing. His confession and me kissing him, how do we manage to sort this out? It is odd the things that occur at high altitude. You often hear of complete strangers joining the mile-high club: this must be what happens. There should be a warning on flights – Too much champagne and lowered oxygen levels may cause reckless behaviour.
After so many years of being best friends, I am terrified this will ruin things between us. Do relationships with your best friend ever work out? There’s no denying we know each other inside out, it would be lovely to be with someone who knows everything about you, warts and all. There would be no pretences between us. But what if we were to date and then split up and hate each other? I couldn’t stand not having Jamie in my life. This thought is terrifying and why, as much as Jamie has romantic feelings for me, I cannot reciprocate. I am too confused with my emotions right now. I think we both probably got very carried away in a moment of fear. We must remain friends and not spoil that.
‘Soooo what’s the clecks,’ says Sian as we turn onto the M4 with our car windows bursting with stuffed Disney characters. ‘Spill the beans then,’ she continues.
It is difficult to talk in front of the boys, plus I have a Mickey Mouse arm practically stuck up my nostril as I try to balance him on my lap. This is a chat that is required with my arms flailing all over the place over a bottle of Prosecco and a couple of tapas. I tell her that I will fill her in later, although I do begin to divulge what happened with Jamie.
‘I thought there was something strange when you both came through arrivals,’ Sian says. ‘He was looking a bit sheepish. You were looking awkward too, my love.’
‘Well, we didn’t have a very good flight and then he said how much he loved me,’ I whisper. I limit the details as I don’t want the boys to know that I kissed their favourite uncle Jamie.
We were both embarrassed when we got out of the turbulence. Then again, so were most of the passengers after all the screaming, crying and praying for their lives.
At least the other passengers never have to see each other again though. Jamie, on the other hand, has to come back to Laugharne. So it is a relief that he is staying in London over the next few days.
‘Hmm, well, I have always wondered about Jamie’s feelings for you,’ says Sian, taking me by complete surprise.
‘He never stops talking about you, and he likes almost every photo of you on Facebook. For a guy, that’s a sign, don’t you think?’
‘I don’t know. He’s one of my best friends, that’s why he likes my photos. I’ve never seen it like that at all,’ I disagree.
‘Does Uncle Jamie love you, Mummy?’ says Rupert from the back seat.
‘I thought you were busy with your Lego,’ I say. ‘No, we are besties, like you and Lucas are.’
‘But Lucas doesn’t like all my photos on Facebook,’ Rupert says.
‘You’re not even on Facebook, you silly sausage.’ I laugh. ‘And how do you know so much about Facebook anyhow?’
‘Chardonnay’s on Facebook. Her mum lets her; she tells us about it,’ he explains.
‘Okay, well, Chardonnay also wears a lot of make-up for a nine-year-old so…’
‘I like Uncle Jamie,’ chirps in Jasper.
‘Yes, we all do, sweetie,’ I reply.
Rupert and Jasper start giggling in the back. All I can hear is, ‘No, you ask her. No, you.’
‘Ask me what?’ I question them.
‘Can Uncle Jamie be our stepdad? Like Tanja is
our stepmother?’ says Jasper.
I’ve never heard of Tanja Tart being called that before even though she technically is. It feels like a knife went straight through my heart. The boys now have a stepmother. This revelation is another reminder that my family unit will never be the same again. As usual, I put on a brave face and cast away the statement that stings so much.
‘Hey now, just because Jamie is good at making things with you, it doesn’t mean he should live with us,’ I say.
I ponder for a moment and wonder whether now might be the right time to mention Patrick. He insisted that he would visit in a few weeks’ time, and this will surely give me the opportunity I need to find out more about him and get some clarity on our relationship. He won’t be rushing off all the time if he is in Laugharne with me, so I am bound to get to the bottom of everything.
I take a deep breath.
‘Actually, I have something to tell you two…’ I stop and wonder if I am doing the right thing. My gut feeling tells me this is a mistake, but I am going to have to say something soon if Patrick is to visit. ‘When Mummy was in New York I met up with an old friend of mine,’ I begin.
‘Yes, Uncle Jamie,’ says Jasper. ‘We know he was there looking after you.’
‘No, baby. Not Uncle Jamie. I have a friend in New York, who I met a long, long time ago before you were born. I met him there, and he said that he’d like to meet you. He may visit us here in Wales.’
‘I don’t like strangers,’ says Rupert.
‘He’s not a stranger. I’ve known him a long time,’ I say.
‘Jasper and me don’t know him, so he is a stranger.’
I feel like saying Tanja Tart was a stranger, too, but now you are going on holiday with her and calling her your stepmother. Of course, I bite my tongue.
‘What’s his name?’ asks Jasper politely.
‘Patrick,’ I say.
‘Patrick?’ says Rupert. ‘Don’t like it. I prefer the name Jamie.’
‘Yeah, the name Jamie is nice, Mummy,’ adds Jasper. ‘Where is he from?’
‘New York,’ I say. ‘He’s lived there all his life.’
‘Does he have a funny accent? Like you see on TV?’ asks Rupert.
‘It’s not a funny accent,’ I explain. ‘It’s a very nice accent.’
The boys start putting on an American accent; like the one on their favourite police programme.
‘Ya… all… see this Leygo herrre,’ says Jasper, holding up a Lego airplane wing.
‘Okay, that sounds nothing like Patrick. That sounds more like a Texas accent.’ I laugh. ‘You’ll see when you meet him what he sounds like.’
‘When will we meet him?’ interrupts Sian.
‘I don’t know. He was going to check his work schedule and see when he can get over. You know how hard he works… Well, apparently…’ My words linger in the air. ‘Apparently.’ Sian seems oblivious of my uncertainty.
‘Oh, I can’t wait to meet him. Will he be able to come to the wedding, Amelia? It would be so great if he could make it to coincide.’
‘We’ll see, I can’t promise,’ I say.
For a moment I consider whether I should invite Patrick to the wedding, then I can show him Scotland as well as Wales. Although I won’t have much time off work to gallivant around the British Isles. Do I even want to gallivant with him? Will something change drastically on his trip and we will suddenly decide to get married, and the fortune teller’s words will ring true. I don’t see that happening somehow. She was obviously a charlatan.
‘I hope you’re not too jet-lagged. We have to be in the bridal shop by ten tomorrow. The tailor will be there. We may need some alterations to be done, so I want to get it sorted quickly,’ says Sian.
‘Of course, this is so exciting. I’m so happy for you, Sian. You deserve this happiness more than anyone after… what happened,’ I say.
It is so wonderful to be back with my beautiful boys and my best friend. The happiness encases my whole body and a warm, cosy feeling rushes over me as I indulge in the comfort of us all being back together again and the excitement of Sian’s imminent wedding. It makes me realise that I could never move to New York if things were to develop further with Patrick. This is my home and I don’t ever want to leave it. If Patrick does want to be with me, then he would certainly have to think about quitting that job he hates so much and moving here instead. Then again, if he is dying, maybe he could move here and I would be able to help care for him.
We are about to stop in the service station, as the boys need a wee and I quite fancy a KitKat, when I notice that Patrick has sent me a few messages.
Amelia, please let me know, did you land okay? Xxx
I’m so worried. I didn’t hear from you yet. Where are you?
I keep getting flashbacks to the wonderful night we spent together. I can’t wait to come and visit you. I want to see you desperately. I don’t think I can live with us apart! Love you Xxxx
His messages confuse my feelings further. He says he loves me and even worries about me when I don’t answer his messages. All I ever wanted was for someone to care about me like that. Why, then, do I have so many doubts?
Chapter 37
Bashful Brides – I hate my dress
Standing in the fitting room of Bashful Brides, I notice yet another message from Patrick. He hasn’t stopped messaging since I returned. It is not even twenty-four hours since I stepped off the flight, so his incessant texting certainly makes me feel wanted.
What you up to? I want to see you. I miss you. XX
I send Patrick a photo of me in my bridesmaid dress. I daren’t say it to Sian, but why on earth would you choose lime green bridesmaid dresses?
WTAF! Who chose that color? Xx
I notice his American spelling and the cultural difference strikes me again. I would probably tell the boys off if they spelt like that.
I know, hideous colour, but she’s my best friend. Xx
I say, adding an emoji with rolling eyes.
Well, I guess you’d look good in a garbage bag, so you’ll be okay ☺
‘Bin bag,’ I say out loud to myself.
‘You what? You look like a bin bag? Amelia, are you coming out of there soon?’
I forgot that Sian was waiting outside with the dressmaker.
Sian is ecstatic as I step out of the changing room.
‘Oh, you look so amazing, Amelia. Patrick will love you in it.’
Patrick has seen it and he doesn’t love it one bit, I think.
The dressmaker looks me up and down, and everyone decides that, after all, there is no need for alterations even though I have had to take a dress a size larger than normal. It was probably that New York cheesecake that did it. I had at least hoped that all the sex would have worked a few calories off, but obviously not. The wire bodice is already cutting into me as I remove the dress. I am going to have to be careful I don’t eat too much over the next few weeks or I will be needing another size up again.
My phone bleeps as I am struggling to get the lime ensemble over my head. I wonder if I should check my phone with this dress halfway over my head, or get the dress off first?
I am eager to see what Patrick has to say. He has mentioned something about Jamie taking a photo of him in the airport and he does not seem very happy. I do remember him complaining about that, but thought Jamie was on his way out of the airport at that time. I’m sure he is wrong. Curiosity gets the better of me, so I find myself standing in the fitting room with one arm in and one arm out of this duchesse satin dress whilst checking my phone. My dress is now hoisted up to my waist, showing the not-so-attractive flesh-coloured tights that I am wearing underneath. They were the only ones I could find in my rush to get here this morning, and I instantly regret it. Thank goodness Patrick cannot see me right now. I have the strange feeling that if he could it would probably be the end of us.
So why would your friend take my pic, hey? What does he want?
There are no kisses this tim
e.
I don’t know. He didn’t say anything to me. Xx
He has it in for me. I don’t know what his problem is. I hope he’s going to stay away from me when I come over.
Umm, okay. When are you coming over? Any news yet? XX
I don’t want to get drawn into the reasons why Jamie doesn’t seem to like him. After what Jamie said on the flight, there is a chance that he is jealous of Patrick. Although quite why he has taken a photo of him, that bit I do not understand. I wonder if Patrick is making this part up.
After putting the phone down on the fitting room chair, I pull at the dress again. Unfortunately, due to my incessant wriggling about, the zip has now got stuck in my hair. I am going to need some assistance.
‘Sian!’ I shout. I wait for her to answer back, but nothing.
‘Sian!’ I shout once again.
She must have gone to look at something in the shop. Oh no, typical.
‘Help!’ I shout.
Still nothing. I peer around the curtain but nobody is close enough to see me.
I try ringing Sian’s mobile, but it must be in her bag as she doesn’t answer.
In my despair I google Bashful Brides. Desperate times call for desperate measures and so I find the phone number online and ring the shop.
‘Hi, I need help in your changing room,’ I say the minute someone answers. ‘It’s not a prank call. I promise. I’m stuck in the fitting room. Please help me,’ I beg.
As I put the phone down, Patrick returns my message.
How about I fly over next week? XX
Will I even be out of here by next week?
Umm, yeah, cool. XX
Don’t sound so excited! LOL! Xx
If he could see me right now, I think he would understand why I am not sounding super ecstatic.
No, I am excited. I can’t wait to see you. XX