Chapter 50
Jason, Sandra, and Danielle are in the rear galley.
Danielle picks up the box of bread rolls Soumia forgot to collect for business class. ‘Are you excited?’
‘I’m feeling pig sick, my stomach’s like a washing machine,’ I say, then take a sip of water.
‘I think it’s dead romantic.’ Danielle heads off to the front to deliver the bread.
Jason’s leaning on the galley surface and looking up the cabin. ‘I think it’s desperate.’
He gives a wink to show he’s joking. Maybe he’s turning over a new leaf.
I load up the hot meals from the oven and place them onto two carts inside two white heatproof boxes.
Chicken with rice and a tomato sauce in one, beef bourguignon in the other.
Sandra and Jason disappear up one aisle to tempt the passengers with our culinary delights.
Nick and Dave have already minced their cart up the other aisle.
Danielle and her inflated lips return to the galley. ‘Do you have a vegetarian meal for 26F?’
I check the meal list.
‘No, they didn’t request one.’
‘Bollocks, he’s already complained about the tv screen.’
I take two spare chicken meals out the oven, remove the chicken from them both, and pour the two sets of rice and tomato into one dish. I place the tin foil back over the meal, then use a pen to write VEG on the foil.
‘Give him that, he’ll never know,’ I say to Danielle.
The whole service and clear in only takes ninety minutes. Nick, Dave, Danielle, Sandra, Jason, and I are sat on a canister in the back galley, somewhere over the North Atlantic.
Sandra is looking in a compact mirror and wiping the lipstick off her teeth. ‘I think the most romantic thing my husband has ever done is put the bins out on time.’
I take a bite of a flapjack I’ve stolen from the bar.
‘How did you two meet?’ I ask Nick and Dave.
Dave is sat so close to Nick I’m starting to believe he’ll have to be surgically removed from him.
‘We were on the same training course,’ Dave says.
‘I’ve been his prisoner ever since,’ Nick jokes.
Dave fails to see the funny side.
‘Has Soumia told you all the plan?’ I ask.
Danielle stands up and opens the canister she’s sat on and takes a packet of toilet rolls out of it and two boxes of tissues. ‘Yes, and you’ve told us, then you’ve told us again. Stop worrying babe, he’s going to love it.’
‘Right, yes, course he will. Does he know I’m onboard?’
‘I don’t think so. He was talking to Soumia in the forward galley before. He probably just thinks it’s someone he hasn’t met yet down here. It’s not like the engineers get access to the crew list. I’m going to do the toilet checks.’
A double chime rings through the cabin. I pick up the interphone.
‘Callum, door 4 right.’
‘Soumia, door 1 left. He’s on his way down, I couldn’t stop him. Battle stations.’
It’s a rabbit in the headlight situation. I put the phone back in its cradle and tell the crew he’s coming to the back before leaping into an unoccupied toilet to hide. Nick and Dave rush down one aisle to block him while Jason and Sandra stampede down the other.
The lighting in the toilet mirror is harsh. Come on Callum, you’ve got this. You’re never going back, only forward.
I give it a minute to make sure it’s safe before I leave the toilet.
I’d do anything to run up to 4E, jump on Olly’s lap and beg him for forgiveness, but my mum’s words stop me: there’s nothing that can’t be fixed.
If I’m going to fix this, I’m going to do it with a rubber duck in one hand, and a microphone in the other.
Sandra comes back into the galley. ‘The others have gone to the front to distract Olly.’ They’ve acted like a gauntlet of Gladiators, knocking him back to his seat.
The confident voice of a teenage girl grabs the attention of me and Sandra.
‘Excuse me,’ she says.
‘Yes, love?’ I say.
‘I left my phone on my meal tray.’ The long-haired brat is chewing gum with her mouth open, hand on hip, and blonde extensions down to her arse. I can already tell she’s a spoilt bitch.
‘Are you sure it’s not fell on the floor near your seat?’ Sandra asks.
‘Yes.’
There is absolutely no way I’m rummaging through left over meals to retrieve it. ‘Right ok, well there’s not much we can do about it. If anyone hands it in, we’ll let you know.’
‘You better find it.’ She blows a bubble then sucks the pink gum back into her glossed mouth.
‘Pardon?’ I want to grab that chewing gum and put it in her hair. I can’t stand ill manners, and I hate kids, and a teenager with an attitude problem is the worst of the lot.
‘My mum’s a gold card holder. If you don’t get it found, I’m going to complain.’
‘First of all, love, this is Tiny World. Your mum’s gold card status at BA means nothing here, secondly if that’s the case, why are you sat down the back, and thirdly…’
‘Callum,’ Sandra interrupts, ‘let’s just find it for Soumia.’
The teenager speaks. ‘If you let me use your phone, I can phone mine and follow the ring.’
‘You won't get a signal up here.’ You daft cow. ‘Go back to your seat. If we find it, I’ll bring it to you.’
Sandra opens the dry store cannister and hands me a pair of gloves. She takes a pair for herself too. ‘Any idea which cart it could be?’
‘No idea. Let’s work left to right.’
Sandra lifts up the red galley catches, presses the green brake pedal to release the cart, then pulls the first one out into the middle of the galley. As I open the cart door, several trays of half-eaten bourguignon fall out onto the galley floor.
For fuck’s sake.
I start at the top pulling out the used meal trays one by one to search for the phone. I put my hand in something which has clearly been spat out. Sandra is doing the same on the other side of the cart. The galley floor is now covered in a sea of rice, beef, and raspberry dessert.
Unsuccessful in the first cart, we put it away and start on the second. I’m nearing my way to the bottom whilst Sandra is muttering, ‘get in you bastard,’ to a stubborn beef meal. As Sandra slams the tray in her side, it knocks a tray out of mine.
‘Sandra!’ Gravy covers my white shirt.
‘I’m so sorry.’ She grabs paper towels off the side, holds them under the water brewer for a second to dampen them, then dabs away at the gravy on my shirt. She succeeds in making my polyester uniform both wet and see-through but fails to remove any gravy.
‘Leave it, it’s ok.’ It’s not the first time I’ve been covered in shit onboard. ‘You put the carts away and I’ll go and tell madam we couldn’t find it.’
As I approach the teenager in the cabin from behind, I can see she’s sat with her feet on the chairs and playing on a device.
‘I’m sorry, we couldn’t find your phone.’
‘I’ve got it.’ She doesn’t move her eyes from the screen. ‘It was in my seat pocket.’
‘Did you not think to come and tell us?’
‘No.’
I imagine shoving the mobile so far down her throat that she’ll either be vibrating or ringing for weeks.
Danielle, Jason, Nick, and Dave are returning from the front of the aircraft. They’re deep in conversation but go silent as soon as they see me. I follow them back into the galley. Sandra is scraping up the last bit of beef from the galley floor.
Danielle is twisting her necklace. ‘Sandra, can you go to the front? Soumia wants a quick word.’
‘Sure, what’s it about?’
Dave jumps in, words racing out of his mouth. ‘Nothing, nothing at all, everything’s the same, nothing’s changed.’
Nick replies. ‘Smooth, babe, smooth.’
Sandra places a tissue covered in gravy in the bin then heads out the galley. I’m just about to ask what on earth is going on when a pale looking passenger approaches me.
‘Excuse me, can I give you this?’
The lady holds up a sick bag and instead of handing it to me, she pushes it into my stomach. The soggy bottom of the paper bag gives way and vomit rains over the bottom half of my shirt. I say the only thing crew are supposed to say in this situation.
‘Thank you.’