Love, Suzi x - A Romantic Comedy

Letter 4 - Home

8th March - Home

Dear Eve                                                                                      

Thank god for Aaron. He helped me complete my paperwork for landing into Heathrow, otherwise I’d have had to request another round trip to get it done in time. We have to reconcile any duty free sales with the stock that we had originally. Taking into account currency exchange rates there is a little room for error, but not the amount I seemed to come up with on my first reckoning.

‘Arghhhh. This can’t be right. Not again,’ I wailed as I buried my head in my hands. ‘Shit, shit, shit!’ Picking up the full money bags again I tipped their contents out onto the galley worksurface. I started to put them into piles to count. A few coins fell on the floor and rolled under the bin. I pulled out the bin and got down on my hands and knees. A stray ring-pull from a can of coke dug into my flesh. I felt my eyes start to water.

‘What’s up Suzi?’ Aaron asked as he pushed the trolley he’d been manoeuvring into the galley and waited for me to get up. I rubbed my knee, swallowed hard and wiped my eyes. It had all seemed so easy when we’d practised doing the paperwork in training. But now we were near to landing. I had to let senior crew know that the documents were all signed and the trolleys sealed before landing into Heathrow. I’d need to dip deeply into my pockets to square up my figures.

‘Do you think the Captain would circle the airport for me so I can get this done?’ I asked Aaron. He put an arm around my shoulders. ‘I just can’t seem to make it match. I don’t want to be handcuffed and led off the plane because of inadvertent embezzlement or accusations of smuggling.’

‘Here. Let me take a look,’ he offered kindly. ‘You count this lot and I’ll check your figures.’

It’s my own fault; I probably tried to do too much whilst I was in San Francisco and was knackered. Well, you would go for it in a big way, wouldn’t you, when it’s your first time in a city? We only had a day and a half off. There was another new stewardess too so four of us hired a car. Luckily they didn't ask me to drive. Probably had something to do with the fact I kept looking to the right each time we crossed a road. Aaron had to grab my arm more than a couple of times to prevent me stepping out into the traffic. It would have been far too confusing with the driver’s seat the wrong side. We took ourselves off to the see the Golden Gate Bridge amongst other places. It was amazing. We went down a street famous for being the crookedest street in the world and ended up having buffalo stew at a diner the others knew about.
            I had a great view of the city from my hotel room. It was on the twentieth floor with huge picture windows that looked out onto the streets below. Rows and rows of houses and shops were laid out in regimented form before me. As the sun went down the streetlights began to twinkle like a row of fairy lights in a long line as far as I could see until they disappeared over the hill.

I think I’m going to enjoy the hotel part of the job. Crew are always accommodated in tip top hotels. It will make a change from the usual two star bed and breakfast Matt and I are used to. He whisked me away one weekend and I thought I had captured a spontaneous romantic. (Do they exist?)  We ended up checking into a dingy B & B somewhere by the coast. Damp sheets and a ceiling that ‘rained’ every time the man in the room above didn’t pull his shower curtain across properly. I tried to see the funny side of it, be considerate and say it didn’t matter. But I did think it would have been better to go camping; at least I would have been wrapped in my own bed linen, even if it was still my old  purple sleeping bag that you and I used to share on our sleep-overs.

Everyone has an opinion on flight attendants. Many see it as no more than a glorified waiter or waitress. Well, fair enough, but glorified or not, after the flight home from San Francisco I was exhausted and there was no milk in the fridge. I’m now sharing a house with three other girls. Sarah-Jane Andrews (brunette and a bit scatty) is so loved up with her new man at the moment she can’t see past his backside (granted it’s a cute backside, but still). Samantha Greene is busy trying to impress her boss to get a raise. I know she’s seriously considering propositioning him and, Debbie Willis. Well, Debbie is sans job. Unless you count sitting on the couch all day watching soaps. But then again, you can afford to if your parents are as well off as hers. Harsh but fair. Instead of a rug to keep her warm she uses her crisp and sweet wrappers as a technicoloured blanket. Only one of us seems to have passed our exams in housekeeping and making sure the fridge is well stocked with essentials and guess who that is?

     Matt thinks I should be considering settling down. But how can I? I’m only twenty-four. Look at all the people I’m going to meet. Anyone would think we were in our late thirties and time was running out. Matt may be older than me but my biological clock hasn’t even started ticking yet, let alone flashed up a warning of my sell-by date.
       I do try to understand where Matt’s coming from. His younger sister’s married and had her first baby by the time she was twenty-two. I know he sees his life going that way too.  We’ve been together for so long now. He was delicious when I was leaving school and snagged him. It made all the other girls jealous that I had a boyfriend six years older than me. I admit it did give me a thrill. He seemed so much more experienced and different from all the boys my own age. He had started working, had a car and seemed to know so much, but since then we’ve just drifted along. I didn’t realised he was such a plodder. No wild plans of seeing the world for him. I used to think we were a match made in heaven. Perhaps I’m just getting older? I’m beginning to realise although he’s a lovely man, maybe he’s just not the lovely man for me?

   It’s not only him but his family seem to have adopted me. I’m in up to my neck and sometimes it feels like a noose (a tightening one at that). I know they all think I’m the ‘one’ for him but there’s got to be a bit more out there, surely? I know you’d understand. I really miss talking things over with you. What am I to do? Catch the next flight out of here, I reckon.

Love, Suzi x

Thanks for reading! I have plenty more so please let me know if you like to read about Suzi's adventures! You can find me at www.teresahamilton.co.uk or @THamiltonwriter on Twitter.