Chapter 6
Nepal
Six-thirty a.m. on the tarmac at Kathmandu’s domestic airport was a chilly and drizzly place to be. Beside me, I could sense Tiff’s disappointment as we headed towards the tiny aeroplane that awaited us.
‘I’m not a morning person,’ she’d informed me when first her alarm and then mine had jolted me from sleep. ‘Please ignore me until I’ve had at least two cups of coffee.’
I was with her on the coffee front. I’d kept quiet and retreated into the bathroom to talk to Bronte while I got dressed (only in my head – I didn’t want Tiff to hear me) until Tiff had knocked on the door to chivvy me along.
So far, we’d only had one coffee and I was keeping conversation to a minimum.
‘Oh my Lord, will it even get off the ground?’ hissed the woman in front, clinging to her partner’s arm. ‘Looks like it’s held together with elastic bands.’
‘Look at that, Diane.’ Her partner slowed to peer at the propeller as he walked past. ‘Get a pigeon caught in one of those and we’re dead in the air.’
‘Don’t say things like that, Steve,’ she tutted.
I wasn’t usually a nervous flyer, but that was the last thing I needed to hear. I’d been on bigger buses.
‘Asshole,’ Tiff muttered, tugging up her hood against the rain. ‘It’s precisely because it’s so small that we can get so close to the summit. Still up for this?’
I was doing this for Bronte. Whether I was up for it or not was irrelevant. ‘A bit scared,’ I admitted. ‘Thanks to Steve.’
‘Fear and excitement are two sides of the same coin,’ she replied. ‘Let’s choose excitement today.’
‘That’s a brilliant way of looking at it. Thanks.’ I smiled gamely and tried to ignore the way the steps were shaking under Steve’s weight as the couple ascended ahead.
‘ Namaste! ’ A member of cabin crew greeted us on board and waved us to seats.
The flight wasn’t full, which meant that Tiff and I had window seats with no one beside us, me on the row in front of her. The group boarded speedily and we were soon taxiing along the short runway.
Steve and Diane were sitting opposite, Steve at the window, taking shot after shot on a big camera. His wide shoulders encroached into Diane’s space, forcing her to lean into the narrow aisle. I doubted she could even see the window, let alone the view.
I stared down through the rain over Kathmandu as we ascended, leaving the city behind, the tight grid of streets swiftly giving way to the lush greenery of hills and valleys.
My ears popped as we climbed higher and higher, at last breaking through the layer of cloud until the aircraft was flooded with a blinding light.
Almost immediately, the Himalayas came into view in the distance and the change of mood inside the cabin was palpable. Noise levels began to rise, people leaned across to take pictures and the cabin crew wandered up and down pointing out sights to each passenger.
I was mesmerised by the view: snow-capped peaks of varying shapes and sizes as far as the eye could see, the tallest of which were encircled by gossamer clouds. Brilliant white contrasting with a sky so blue that the only shade I could think of to describe it was ‘heavenly’.
In that moment, I was proud of myself: I’d been in the country less than twenty-four hours and already I was about to see the first item on Bronte’s list.
Tiff prodded my shoulder. ‘You must be my good luck charm. We’re gonna get an incredible view. This sky is insane.’
I turned and beamed at her. ‘You see, you didn’t need a second cup of coffee after all.’
‘Oh I do,’ she replied, ‘but there’s no toilet on this aircraft and I didn’t want to take any chances. So, you’re glad you came?’
I nodded. ‘It makes up for only getting three hours’ sleep last night. You weren’t kidding when you said you snore. You sounded like an injured sea lion.’
‘Now wait a minute, lady. You can wear ear plugs to protect you from snoring. Whereas your gas? There was no escaping that, even with my pillow pressed over my face. What did you eat for dinner yesterday, rotten eggs?’
‘Dal bhat,’ I muttered, mortified. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so many lentils in one sitting.’
Tiff snorted. ‘Better get used to it, princess. It’s the Nepalese equivalent of a sandwich.’
‘Excuse me, dear,’ said Diane, waving to attract the attention of the stewardess. ‘There isn’t a life jacket under my seat. Neither is there one under my husband’s.’
‘No, mam, we do not keep them on board.’ She tapped the instruction diagram on the back of the seat in front of Diane. ‘See this picture? The cushion you are sitting on is your flotation device.’
‘I see.’ Diane’s face turned a peculiar colour.
‘A cushion?’ Steve spluttered loudly. ‘So, all that’s saving me from death on a mountainside is a sodding cushion?’
‘Don’t make a fuss, Steve,’ his wife whimpered. ‘I don’t feel safe as it is.’
‘Me?’ He snorted. ‘Says the woman who ran screaming into the corridor last night when she saw a cockroach.’
‘Cockroaches?’ I turned to look at Tiff.
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Better get used to those too.’
I instinctively scratched my scalp.
‘Would you like to visit the cockpit?’ the stewardess said to Diane. ‘You get an excellent view of the mountains, and our experienced pilot will show you how safe we are.’
‘I can’t move,’ said Diane, her bottom lip trembling. ‘I’m frozen to the spot.’
A smiling man in a pilot’s uniform appeared from the cockpit. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to invite you one at a time to—’
‘Whoah,’ cried Steve, rising out of his seat, his safety belt straining across his lap. ‘Get back to your chair and keep your eyes on the road, pal.’
‘It is okay.’ The pilot held his hands up. ‘My colleague is flying the plane, there is no need to—’
The last word of his sentence was lost to the screams of the passengers as we hit a pocket of turbulence and the aircraft pitched and rolled like a canoe in rough waters.
Both the pilot and the stewardess lurched forward, almost losing their footing.
The pilot retreated swiftly to the cockpit while the stewardess rearranged her features into a smile.
‘We’re crashing,’ screamed Diane, gulping in air. ‘We’re all going to die. I can’t die now; I’ve got Harry Styles tickets.’
‘Everyone please remain in your seats,’ the stewardess said calmly. ‘There is nothing to worry about. The captain knows what he is doing.’
I gripped the armrest, trying not to think about what would happen if we crashed on a snow-covered mountain. So much for me taking the less dangerous route to see Mount Everest.
‘I think we’re almost there.’ Tiff prodded me again once the turbulence had disappeared.
My eyes roamed the skyline. There were so many mountain peaks ahead of us that even knowing it was the tallest one didn’t help to identify it. ‘Where?’ I said, reaching for my camera. ‘I can’t pick it out.’
‘We are approaching Everest,’ said the stewardess.
The plane banked sharply to the left.
Diane let out an ear-piercing shriek. ‘I want to get out.’
The stewardess handed Diane a paper bag. ‘Breathe into this.’
‘Off you go then,’ Steve grunted. ‘Don’t forget your cushion.’
‘We’re crashing. I can’t breathe. I can’t … Oxygen, oxygen.’ She leapt to her feet and choked as if someone was strangling her.
‘Jesus Christ,’ Steve said through clenched teeth.
‘I’m going to have to ask you to sit down, mam, or we will have to turn the aeroplane around and go back.’
‘No way,’ Tiff muttered, ‘over my goddamn body, not this time. Sit down, honey!’
‘I’m going to throw up,’ Diane moaned, burying her face in the bag.
‘Is there a doctor on board?’ said the stewardess, looking alarmed.
‘A vet would do,’ Steve added with a snigger. ‘Preferably one who could put her out of her misery.’
I couldn’t bear it; the wild look in her eyes was terrifying, and that husband of hers was the one who needed putting down.
‘Me!’ I put my hand up. ‘I’m medically trained.’
‘Thank you, thank you,’ Diane garbled, discarding the paper bag. ‘Can I get your strongest drugs, please?’
I ignored Tiff’s look of surprise, moved to Diane’s side and took her hands. ‘Look at me, focus on my face. Let’s breathe together. In and out, in and out.’ I kept my voice low and calm, and my eyes on her.
‘That’s the final straw, Diane. I’m leaving you at home from now on,’ her husband grumbled. ‘I paid good money for this trip for your birthday, and you had to ruin it with your drama.’
‘Sorry, Steve.’ Her words escaped in wheezy gulps. ‘But I don’t like heights. Or flying, or confined spaces.’
I heard Tiff mutter, ‘Asshole,’ and I tried not to smirk.
My mum had had a panic attack once. Kat and I hadn’t known what to do so we’d run next door to fetch our neighbour, a retired army officer.
He didn’t know what to do either so had thrown cold water over her and shouted in her face.
She’d given him a black eye for his trouble.
I taught myself how to deal with the situation after that.
I learned to spot the warning signs too: a build-up of bills on the hall table, another one of her get-rich-quick schemes backfiring, a visit from the landlord.
Her first response was to ignore trouble for as long as possible until inevitably there was no escape.
Her second was to let it overwhelm her. The older I got, the more difficult it was to stay sympathetic when she’d invited trouble in so readily and regularly.
Steve unclipped the buckle on his safety belt and pushed past us.
‘Where are you going?’ Diane wept.
‘The other side,’ he said, throwing himself into my seat. ‘I’m not missing Everest because you’re being hysterical.’
‘My name’s Maggie,’ I said to Diane to distract her. ‘Short for Magnolia, which my mother chose because she thought it would make me appear interesting.’
‘I feel faint,’ she replied.
‘Can you wiggle your toes?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well done. Circle your shoulders?’
Diane did what she was told and after a few more breaths, I could see her getting on top of the fear. ‘Are we nearly there yet?’