Panic Button

Two

Jo looked up as a jet plane screeched overhead. It had been so long since she’d gone to an airport she’d forgotten how noisy they were. The last time was her friend Jules’ hen party, and what a wild time that had been. We were all slaughtered before we even got on the plane, Jo remembered, feeling suddenly much older than her twenty-nine years. It had been a just over three years since she’d flown anywhere. She felt like a different person now.

The driver took Jo’s luggage from the boot and placed it at her feet. “Here y’are Miss.”

“Thanks.”

The limo driver climbed back inside and drove away. She looked down at her suitcase. It had taken forever to convince Sophie that Mummy didn’t need to take any of her dollies with her to New York. Not even Cowgirl Barbie who, according to her daughter, “Came from America and would like to go visit.”

The deep guilt she had felt for taking time off from parenting, and from her job at the call centre, had taken a while to wear off. Dawn had encouraged her to go, saying the change of scene would do her good — and how often did opportunities like a free VIP flight come up anyway? “You owe it to yourself, especially after all your hard work, after all you’ve been through,” Dawn had said, “It’ll be fun, just what you need right now.” Jo prayed she was right.

As she walked to Departures, Jo found herself fighting the urge to call her daughter, or to text and tell her she’d arrived at the airport. She stopped still in her tracks and pulled her mobile phone from her pocket, checking the little screen. No messages. Better to let Dawn get on with things, she’d only be reminding Sophie of her absence if she kept sending texts, and she hadn’t even checked in yet. She smiled, thinking about how Dawn must be spoiling Sophie to death already. Jo allowed herself a quick All2gthr.com status update before putting her phone away:

She wished she could have told her sister Maddie about the prize flight. She’d sent her an excited email of course, but it had bounced back unread. Maddie simply didn’t ‘do’ the Internet — a source of much frustration for Jo, especially as her sibling had taken off on a backpacking trip around the globe. Well, Jo was the globetrotter now.

She refreshed the screen, beaming as several online friends within her social network expressed their approval at her status update. To her delight, a couple of her workmates had noticed. They must be so jealous, thought Jo, placing the phone back in her pocket. She stepped through the revolving doors, with a spring in her stride and luggage trailing behind her, into the bright lights and noise of the Departures hall.

The airport concourse was alive with activity. Crowds of people darted this way and that, rushing to catch their flights. Tannoy announcements echoed in Jo’s ears, telling Mr So-and-so and Mrs Such-and-such to go to their gates immediately as their flights were now boarding. Jo’s eyes lingered on a happy family, lining up at their check-in desk, kids decked out in their brightest summer holiday togs. With a pang, she saw the dad lift his daughter high into the air. The little girl giggled as he kissed and tickled her.

Jo didn’t miss Sophie’s dad, he was ancient history, but the sight of the happy family unit still made her feel melancholy. The mum caught Jo staring and frowned at her, looking her up and down. Jo turned away, embarrassed, and walked over to an information screen. She scanned the lines of info. There it was — ‘Deppart Airlines Flight D-665, All2gethr.com private charter’. Jo saw that check-in for the private charter flight was up on the second floor. She headed for the elevators; glad to be distancing herself from the happy laughter of the holidaying family ringing in her ears.

“Hi, Jo isn’t it?”

The soft, mellow voice startled her from her thoughts. She felt a little surprised to be recognised.

“Yeah… Who are you?”

“Max…”

The young man standing in front of her winked. He was in his mid-twenties, a little unkempt and wearing a floppy woollen hat.

“Max Nichols… Another winner?”

“Oh, right!”

Thanks to All2gethr, nobody was a stranger anymore; everyone was a ‘friend’, even if you’d never actually met them before. Jo smiled at Max, pleasantly surprised by his looks. His profile hadn’t included a picture when she’d followed the link from the winners’ email to check him out. Now she could put a face to the name.

Max gestured at her luggage. “Want a hand?”

“Thanks.”

They walked towards the elevators, Max with her suitcase, efficient as a bell-boy.

“So is anyone from All2gethr here?”

“Nope, nobody, all a bit weird. The other winners are here though, thought I’d keep an eye out for you.’

“That’s… very kind.”

“Here we go.” He pressed the call button and the elevator doors slid open with a ding.

Jo followed him inside the mirrored lift. He pushed the button for the second floor and grinned at her as the doors closed and the lift lurched upwards. Jo stole a glance at his reflection in the mirror as the lift halted and the doors swished open. Yeah, he was cute, in that doe-eyed student kind of way.

Too young for me though, she thought, smiling to herself.

They stepped out into a hospitality lounge, Jo’s eyes doing a one-eighty around the brightly lit room. A huge flat screen monitor took centre stage, displaying the familiar all2gethr.com logo, a blue spinning globe with an alligator wrapped around it. The creature was all bright green skin, mischievous orange eyes with black slits at their centres, and gleaming white teeth. Beneath the monitor sat a table stocked with champagne on ice and crystal flute glasses that gleamed under the bright lights. Plush designer seating and tall vases filled with white lilies flanked the table.

The occupants of the seats, a stocky guy and a blonde girl, stood up as Jo and Max approached them. They looked relieved at Jo’s arrival, a welcome distraction from an impasse in their strangers’ conversation.

Max beamed at them. “Hey guys, looks like we’ve got a full team — this is Jo.”

The stocky man stepped forward first, extending his hand in greeting, “Dave.”

He was in his late twenties and looked like a sportsman who had let himself go to seed a bit, with wide shoulders and the beginnings of a beer belly. His fair hair was thinning toward the back and he had grown his fringe a little long to compensate. The comb-over was held in place by a pair of Elvis-style aviator sunglasses. His stripy shirt was straight out of a lads’ magazine fashion column, his slight paunch spilling over the top of his jeans belt.

“Hello, I’m Gwen.” The blonde reached Jo first, leaving Dave momentarily stranded. She kissed Jo on each cheek, her lips glossy with pink lipstick. She smelled of something earthy, which Jo couldn’t quite place for a moment — sandalwood. The scent was in keeping with Gwen’s bohemian, ‘hippy chick’ wardrobe. She looked a good few years younger than Dave and dressed accordingly. She had a long silken scarf wrapped around her neck and her wrists jangled with dozens of bangles and charm bracelets.

“Nice to meet you,” Jo said.

“And you,” Dave echoed.

Dave had a winning smile and friendly, twinkling eyes. He still had his hand outstretched, and Jo reached out to shake it. He had one hell of a grip, squashing her fingers as he lunged in for an air kiss. His aftershave smelled musky and expensive.

“Can I have that back now?”

Dave looked confused.

“My hand?”

“Oh!” He chuckled, apologising profusely as he let go of her hand. Dave was genuinely pleased that Jo was along for the ride. She seemed like his kind of person, down-to-earth, unpretentious. He’d been doing his best to have a laugh with Gwen but was struggling a little with her hippy chick demeanour. Max seemed a bit on the quiet side to him, definitely not the sporting type. Jo looked like she could pull a pint or two, Dave thought, unconsciously eyeing the table filled with champagne and glasses.

Max’s eyes met his, gleaming. Perhaps he was a good sport after all.

“Thirst things first then, eh?” Max grabbed a bottle of champagne, breaking the quiet. He started unravelling the foil and wire wrapped around the cork.

Jo’s eyes widened as she noticed the name on the champagne label: Cristal.

“Blimey, this is all a bit too good to be true, isn’t it?”

Max smiled, working on the cork. “It is a good vintage…”

“Yeah, I mean, New York, the prize draw… I’ve never won anything before in my life. My Mum always says if something sounds too good to be true…”

“Then it probably is,” Gwen cut in. “I was the same, I thought it was a load of old rubbish when I got the email, but then I got the letter, and the phone call… my Dad checked out the booking with the jet company and everything, it’s all legit.” She blushed a little at the mention of her father, realising how childish she must sound to the others.

In truth, Gwen felt blessed to even be there. It had been such a battle to convince her Pastor father that she would be okay flying on her own — he often forgot she was in her twenties now. Telling him that her sister Emily had travelled alone, even hitchhiked, so many times hadn’t helped. Her father disapproved of Em, “gallivanting around the planet like she owns the place,” as he’d put it. But then her tactic had worked out in her favour; as she’d reminded her dad that she, unlike dear Emily, was teetotal, and would only be going along to see the sights — maybe take in a few museums. Her Dad had given her his blessing after that. Gwen wasn’t teetotal of course, God forbid — but what he didn’t know about her wouldn’t give him any cause to worry while she was away.

Pop!

Champagne bubbles gushed from the neck of the bottle and Max quickly poured them each a glass.

“Time to sample some of this VIP treatment I reckon,” Max said. “Try, before you fly.”

He handed Gwen a glass then offered another to Jo.

“No… I…” Jo hesitated.

“Come on, you only live once.”

“Go on girl!” Dave said.

All eyes were on Jo. She conceded and politely accepted the glass, took a sip. The bubbles danced on her tongue, the cool, crisp taste of the champagne kissing her throat. Lovely, she thought.

Max watched her savouring the drink and glancing around smiling, as he sipped his own. He liked the way she carried herself, already warming to the way she seemed to want to get as much as she could out of life. She had a bright face and a lovely smile, just like her profile picture. But meeting her in person revealed something her online persona didn’t. He’d noticed it in her eyes while they were in the elevator. It was as though her eyes had seen too much somehow. Perhaps that was why she looked so eager to enjoy herself.

Dave took centre stage, proposing a toast to their good fortune. They all clinked glasses and then sat down on the pristine leather sofas, Jo next to Dave.

“Probably don’t get out much do you? With a kid and all that?” he ventured. It was quite the conversation opener.

Jo almost spat out her mouthful, throwing a sideways glance at him.

“It’s on your profile.” He looked at the others conspiratorially. “We’ve all been there, right? Checked each other out?”

The tension was back in the room just as quickly as the champagne had broken it. Gwen looked away, or rather, didn’t know where to look. Max just shrugged in agreement. Jo’s eyes were admittal enough — she’d had a look at the others’ profiles too.

Dave nodded sagely, eyes twinkling with triumph at Jo.

“Better go easy — just the one, eh? We know how mental you can get on the sauce. I’ve seen the photos of your mate Jules’ wedding. What a mess!”

“Sorry, that was about three years ago actually…”

Jo let the glass fall from her lip. Her drink tasted a little bitter to her now. Clutching the glass in her lap, her faced blushed with embarrassment.

Gwen giggled, either unaware of Jo’s consternation, or simply not caring about it.

“Naughty girl! N-A-U-G-H-T-Y!” Dave was like a dog with a new bone.

Max shot Dave a reproachful look. “Steady on mate.”

“I’m only messing around,” Dave snorted. He looked at Jo again, over the soundtrack of Gwen’s barely-suppressed laughter. “You’re not offended are you babe?”

“I can tell you’re going to be a handful,” Jo said, trying to regain her composure.

“I wouldn’t worry about him,” Gwen said, still laughing, “He’s getting married next month.”

Dave raised an eyebrow. He looked uneasy in the glare of this particular spotlight.

“Oh? Who’s the lucky girl?” Jo’s voice was loaded with mock-sarcasm.

“Her name’s Sarah.”

“Good for you. I can tell you’re prime husband material.”

Max chuckled at Jo’s comeback.

She laughed along with him. “No really, I mean that.”

Dave shrugged off the joke, swigging champagne.

Gwen fixed Max with an enquiring gaze. “What about you then, Mr. Dark Horse?”

“Me?”

“Yeah. You don’t give anything away on your profile, not even a picture.”

“What can I say? I like to keep myself to myself.”

“Was expecting a real paedo to show up,” Dave cackled.

“He looks fine to me.” Gwen blushed as soon as the words escaped her lips.

“Damn! It’s always the quiet ones!” Dave said.

Max grinned, flattered, but avoiding eye contact. Thankfully, Gwen’s quip may have gotten him off the hook. Max was more of a backseat kind of guy, an observer. If there was one thing he hated, it was talking about himself. He would much rather one of the others were in the limelight — and Dave was proving himself a more than able candidate.

“Here…” Dave grabbed the champagne bottle and topped up Gwen’s drink, winking at her. “This one’s on the house — promise I won’t tell your old man. You must’ve seen him on her profile,” he said to the others, “He’s only a bloody vicar!”

Gwen downed the drink, defiant. Dave draped his arm over her shoulder and poured another, a look of pure glee plastered across his face.

“Promise I won’t tell him about this one either!”

Dave and Gwen laughed raucously.

Jo exchanged a look of wry amusement with Max as they both sipped their drinks politely. That Max was a bit mysterious was a given, and as far as Jo was concerned it added to his allure. What you saw was what you got with Dave; he was a good-time guy out for a bit of fun. She couldn’t quite figure Gwen out though. The girl clearly had a good head on her shoulders, so why the giggling ‘little girl lost’ act with the boys? Maybe she was one of those girls who liked to wind the men up then step back and watch the fire fly. Jo had met more than a few of those in her time. Or perhaps Jo was just feeling jealous about the way Max had blushed at Gwen’s comment. She felt sure theirs was going to be an interesting flight.

A sudden fanfare ripped through the wall-mounted speakers, making them all jump. The music was so loud that it distorted slightly, before decreasing in volume as the all2gethr.com logo on the flat panel monitor changed colour and spread across the full width of the screen.

Gwen put down her glass, clapping her hands together. “Here we go!”

The Alligator unravelled its pixelated body from the globe and peered out at them from the screen. Animated jaw chattering, it addressed them in a tinny voice.

“Welcome! And congratulations to you all for winning the all expenses paid trip to New York courtesy of all2gethr.com, everyone’s favourite social networking site.”

A tiny digital delay between the Alligator’s voice and his snapping jaw created an unsettling resonance. The winners smiled at each other, bemused by this rather unorthodox welcome.

“Too bizarre,” Jo said.

“If you’d like to take a look out of the window to your left…” the Alligator continued.

“Cool — a stretch!” Gwen was at the window first.

She and the others looked down at the sleek stretch limo below. A smart-suited female chauffeur stood waiting for them, looking a little impatient.

The Alligator’s voice grew ever chirpier. “Your chariot awaits, ready to take you to your private jet. We also have some exclusive in-flight entertainment prepared for you…”

“Mile high club?” Dave whispered to Jo, his breath heady with champagne fumes. Jo ignored his cheeky comment.

“…but in order to take part, I must ask you to relinquish your mobile phones for the duration of the flight.”

“Our phones?” Jo looked at the Alligator, his slit-eyes twinkling. Like he can even see me, she thought.

“It is mandatory I’m afraid as they may interfere with our equipment, and may affect the outcome of the game. Your cooperation is greatly appreciated in this matter.”

The winners looked at each other with a mixture of excitement — and apprehension. Max, in particular, looked concerned and absent-mindedly took his handset from his pocket, thumbing the keypad to check for messages. He looked up and saw Jo looking at him. They both smiled as they noticed both Gwen and Dave were similarly addicted — staring into their little mobile phone screens.

Dave smiled down at the picture text Sarah had sent to him that morning. It was a saucy photo of her wearing black lacy lingerie, blowing a kiss at the camera along with the text ‘SO U DON’T 4GET ME TIGER, MISS U ALREADY! XXX’. Sweet. Whenever his phone vibrated at the car spares shop where Dave worked, his colleague Paul was forever trying to catch a glimpse of Sarah’s photo messages. Dave enjoyed the kudos of course, and likes teasing Paul even more. When the lad had asked him how Dave had landed such a hot chick, he’d delighted in answering, “Charm, mate. Natural charm.” Well, Sarah certainly didn’t love him for his money — not on his wages. At least now he was getting a pre-stag party in New York on the house. Result. And some people claimed social networking was a bad thing — muppets.

As they each got up and headed to the door, Jo took her phone from her pocket and checked it too. Still no messages, but about a dozen more friends had commented on her All2gethr status, expressing their envy. Jo had to admit that it made her feel good.

Outside, Max and Dave helped the stern-faced driver load everyone’s luggage into the boot of the limo.

“Thanks,” Jo said, more to Max than Dave.

Before closing the boot, the driver pulled out a small leather pouch and unzipped it.

“Gentlemen, your phones please.”

Dave took his phone from his trouser pocket, turned it off and dropped it into the pouch. He was a picture of nonchalance. Jo looked on as Max hesitated for a moment, wiping a smear of finger grease from his phone display before doing the same. The gesture was tender, almost loving — he was clearly fond of technology.

“Thank you. Ladies?” The driver shook the open pouch at Jo and Gwen, who were seated inside the limo. Gwen reached across Jo’s lap and deposited her girly-looking phone inside the pouch. The driver, openly wrinkling her nose at the glitzy handset, held the pouch out to Jo.

“No, sorry I can’t,” Jo said, “I promised my daughter I’ll keep in touch this weekend.”

The driver paused a moment, then cleared her throat. “It is a mandatory stipulation. Phones may interfere with the game.”

“Then I’ll turn it off.”

“Ah, come on…” Dave said, climbing aboard the stretch limo.

“The rules of the competition state that all phones are to be relinquished for the duration of the flight,” the driver continued, “Otherwise the competition is null and void — for all participants.”

“It’s just for a few hours,” Max said.

Jo’s fingers tightened their grip on the handset, a physical manifestation of maternal instinct. Our lifeline.

The driver smiled at her. “It is only a few hours. I can’t change the rules, I wish I could…”

Jo glanced at the limo, Dave and Gwen’s impatient eyes peering back at her. Max gave her a reassuring nod as if to say if I can do it, so can you.

“Okay, okay. Just give me a second.”

Palms sweating, Jo speed-typed a text message. NO PHONES ALLOWED ON PLANE PUMPKIN. CALL U WHEN I GET 2 NY. LUV U MUM XXX

The driver continued smiling, though her eyes were pencil hard. “Feels like losing a limb, doesn’t it?”

Jo wondered if the driver was enjoying her power trip perhaps a little too much. She nodded solemnly and hit SEND, before turning her phone off and dropping it into the pouch.

Max hopped into the limo after her and the driver closed the door behind them, still clutching the pouch. Moments later, the engine purred and they were off and away from the terminal building.

The interior of the limo was like an Aladdin’s Cave of riches. The seats were upholstered in the finest leather with chrome door fittings and sparkling tinted glass windows. On the right hand side of the limo, running the full length from the driver’s partition to the rear seats, a bar was stocked with decanters, glasses and yet more champagne on ice. Beneath the glass surfaces of the bar, the rainbow colours of ultraviolet mood lighting undulated and bathed the limo interior in a psychedelic party glow.

Max was busy examining a pedestal situated between the bar and the seats, which was topped with a little control panel of shiny chrome buttons. He fiddled with the buttons and, with a click and a whirr, an LCD flat screen television popped up out of the pedestal.

“Whoa,” Max said, awestruck.

The screen flickered into life automatically; displaying the same All2gethr logo the passengers had seen at the winners’ lounge. The animated alligator graphic sprang into life, uncurling itself from the globe and popping the cork on a cartoon bottle of champagne. Computer generated bubbles filled the screen, arranging themselves into a single word: ‘CONGRATULATIONS!’

“The riches.” Max grinned at Jo, who smiled back in agreement.

Dave stroked the soft leather arm of his seat, luxuriating in his surroundings, peering out of the window with glee in his eyes.

“Can you see it yet?”

“Oh-my-God!” Gwen already had her head out the window on her side of the limo.

Max and Jo followed suit, opening the sunroof and standing up to get a better look.

“Check it out!” Jo exclaimed.

There it was, in the distance, the embodiment of material success fashioned from metal, glass and rubber — a gleaming white private jet. As the stretch limo drove nearer, Jo saw the words ‘Deppart Airlines’ emblazoned on the fuselage. She grinned at Max as the crosswind blasted their faces.

“Yeah! Woo-hoooo!” Max hollered, ecstatic.

The others joined in, their gleeful voices buoyant on a collective wave of excitement and anticipation for the adventure to come, as the limousine drove on.

Jo and the others clambered out of the limo, eyeing the jet in awe. It was even more impressive at this close distance, all sleek lines and immaculate paintwork. The side of the aircraft, nearest the nose, had ‘Challenger 604’ painted on it in fancy gold calligraphy. The cabin door was open, stairs down in welcome. A stocky baggage handler, dressed in overalls and a fluorescent tabard, started loading their bags into a luggage apartment under the watchful gaze of the limo driver.

Dave bounced up and down on the tarmac. “Yeah baby!”

Gwen sidled up to Jo. “Boys and their toys, eh?”

“Yeah, got to confess though, I am just a tiny, weeny bit impressed.”

“Me too!” Gwen laughed. “Who’s going first?”

Dave already had one foot on the steps. He stepped back, gesturing to Gwen that she go first.

“After… me!” He squeezed in front of her and hopped up the steps.

“You swine!” Gwen laughed and followed behind.

“Age before beauty,” Jo said to Max, who smiled, grabbed the handrail and climbed the steps.

Jo followed close behind and paused for a moment before boarding, feeling uncomfortable. She turned, looked back down the steps and caught the luggage man eyeballing her. Jo held his gaze for a few seconds before turning back to the jet entrance. Men like him looked at her like that sometimes, especially when she had to run the gauntlet of the building site around the corner from her workplace, but she’d caught something else in the baggage handler’s eyes. Was it contempt? Maybe he was just resentful that she and the others were flying to New York in style while he lugged their suitcases around on the runway like a lackey. He wouldn’t be scowling if he knew how crappy her day job was, that was for sure.

Goosebumps formed on Jo’s arms and she wasn’t quite sure if they were the product of the man’s stare or the intensifying crosswind. She took a lungful of air and stepped inside the aircraft. It had been such a long time since she’d flown.