Ducie by Chris Freeman
Chapter 43. Pedro Prima Vez
Frank leaned over the sink basin of the aeroplane wash room and splashed cold water on his face. He clutched tiredly at the tissue dispenser and succeeded in removing its entire contents in one clumsy swoop. In his attempt to stuff some back in, masses of the stuff stuck to his wet hands. Tiredness was bringing carelessness, and in turn frustration. He shook his hands vigorously in an attempt to rid himself of the clingy, white inconvenience, before quickly giving up and wiping his hands on the grey wall of the wash room. Job done.
There was a rattling sound and the aircraft took a sudden dip in altitude. A scream came from the cabin. Frank knew who it belonged to. Daniella wasn’t kidding when she said she wasn’t good at flying. The engines whirred persistently in the background; another of the many noises on this turbulent nightmare of a flight, but an ongoing reassurance that the mechanics of the plane were apparently in tact. That was something at least. The seatbelt sign above the toilet door illuminated. A knock came at the door.
- Sir or Madam. Please can you return to your seat now? The captain has turned on the seatbelt sign.
The stewardess’s voice was chirpy and polite. Another reassurance that they weren’t about to plummet to their deaths, but then again, these ladies were trained and paid to sound like that in a crisis.
- Yeah. I’m on my way.
Frank disengaged the lock and smiled at the impossibly tanned stewardess as he left the wash room, scanning her eyes for signs of panic beneath that cast-iron make-up grin she sported so professionally. Nothing.
It had been tough this far. At Santiago Airport, Daniella had twice tried to bail out of getting on the plane. In the departure lounge, Harrison had suggested that Daniella spend some time watching the regular flow of planes leaving and touching down safely to calm her nerves. This had worked like a charm, right up until an Air Comet Boeing 737 attempted an ambitious landing through a strong crosswind and was suddenly swept like a crisp packet to the left of the runway, before the pilot managed to realign and touch down safely; just! Wind gusts like this known as microbursts are relatively commonplace in aviation, but it was enough to make Daniella’s bottom lip protrude, as she fought back tears and insisted that she wanted to go home. Whatever memory Daniella associated with aeroplanes that was giving life to this fear of hers, Frank didn’t have time to remould it now. Especially not in the middle of an airport. Having calmed her down by the time they were called to the boarding gate, Daniella had point blank refused to enter the passenger boarding bridge, delaying the boarding procedure, as the stewardesses did their professional best to balance their concern for her frantic wailing with their need to show urgency in closing the gate and getting the plane on its way. The hero of the hour eventually came from an unlikely source; a man dressed as a dog, handing out goody bags, who appeared at an opportune moment to save the day. ‘Pedro Prima Vez’ (or First Time Pedro) was one of a number of new characters employed by the airport to entertain mainly younger flyers in departure lounges and to generally take the clinical edge off the airport environment for any passengers who might be nervous about their upcoming flight. Silly as it seemed at first, being comforted by a huge dog in red dungarees did make it hard for Daniella to take the whole situation as seriously, and in the end she and Pedro laughed together, albeit through stifled tears. Although she ultimately turned down the offer of a goody bag, she did walk away with a model replica of the A330 and an illustrated list of what the ‘normal’ noises were she could expect to hear on the plane. More importantly though, she agreed to board.
As Frank made his way back from the toilet towards his seat at the rear of the plane, he caught Harrison’s eye just long enough to catch his piercing glare that screamed, “Don’t you dare leave me alone with this psycho for that long again”. Daniella was curled up with her head on his lap, sobbing softly; Pedro the Dog’s reassurances seemingly a distant memory.
- How’s she doing Flex?
- How it look like she doing Frankie?
Frank looked up at the monitor that marked the plane’s destination with a red icon in the middle of a vast expanse of blue, indicating that they were still above the Atlantic Ocean.
- We’ve a way to go yet. We could do with getting her to sleep the rest of the way.
- Well ya wanna try ya luck widdat Frankie? Dis dread need to go water di herbs!
Harrison gently lowered Daniella’s head down onto the seat and squirmed out into aisle, heading towards the toilet. The stewardess quickly intervened.
- Sir, please can you return to your seat now? The captain has turned on the seatbelt sign.
The exact line she’d given to Frank moments earlier. Like a well-programmed robot.
- I need a piss madam.
Harrison said ‘piss’ in a well-spoken English accent, as if that made it an acceptable way to express his need for the toilet.
- Sir. The plane is going through turbulence pockets and you’re required to remain in your seat with your seatbelt securely fastened.
- Who say dat?
The stewardess’s drawn on make-up face almost cracked at the shock of this unexpected show of non-compliance.
- The….Er…. captain, Sir.
Frank stepped in quickly.
- Harrison, sit down mate. She’s just doing her job.
The suck of the teeth.
- How boot you just carry’arn do yar ting widda trolley, and ya nah blabba mout to no captain boot me going to piss. Sight?
His homeland talk got harder to understand when he was angry. Frank was getting good at understanding it, but he briefly imagined what it must have sounded like to a French air stewardess.
- Sir…. I….
Daniella made a low groaning sound and her body jerked once. A normal sleep twitch. Frank took the seat next to her and stroked her head with the back of his hand. She was clammy, wet, and for the first time since he’d met her, she looked undignified and actually rather ugly. Her tongue lopped out of one side of her mouth. One eye began its descent into the back of her head, leaving just a creepy, white eyeball on show. The groan again, but this time longer, more sustained. Her body jerked again, her limbs contracting and relaxing in rapid succession. Not a normal sleep twitch! She bit hard on the inside of her cheek, and a slither of blood seeped across her lips that had now turned a pale shade of blue. She was fitting! The plane took another momentary dip in altitude, which served only to add a layer of drama. The stewardess, now miles away from her list of pre-scripted phrases in her training manual, cried out for assistance.
- Ladies and gentlemen, do we have a doctor on board?
No response.
Strangers from around the plane had left their seat to get a closer look, the seatbelt sign now a little academic in the context of the situation. Harrison waded back down the aisle, shoving the first person in front of him, a short, ginger haired man with spectacles and boyish freckles. The man fell backwards, creating a domino effect as he careered into the people behind him.
- Nuttin t’see ‘ere. Sit back dorn. Dis man ‘ere a doctor.
Every person on their feet took Harrison’s intimidating advice immediately and returned to their seats. As Daniella’s seizure began subsiding, Frank turned into the recovery position.
- Daniella. Daniella…. Can you hear me darling?
For a moment, Frank’s mind jumped to the Palcranolol, then to the memory remoulding. He’d done it loads of times before with no side-effects, but what’s to say this wasn’t to be the first? If the remoulding had been undone…. If she remembered the truth…. That they had basically kidnapped her….then they’d be in all sorts of bother.
- Daniella…. Do you know where you are darling?
A smile that was more eerie than it was endearing crept across Daniella’s face, as her focus finally settled on Frank.
- Are we…..
She coughed as she winched herself to a more upright position.
- ….Are we nearly at Ka