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Three

The Alligator’s familiar voice greeted them one-by-one over a loudspeaker as they entered the plush private jet.

“Dave, Gwen, Max and Jo — welcome aboard! We hope you enjoy your flight. This is Deppart Airlines executive charter flight D-665 to New York.”

Classical music lulled through the cabin like a calming breeze. Dave led the way inside. The jet’s compact interior was impeccably stylish, all pristine marbled surfaces and warm lighting. Four stylish beige leather seats, each with a computer touch screen, dominated the central cabin space. The chairs swivelled so the passengers could face each other over polished drinks tables. Each screen displayed the name of one of the four winners in sleek blue all2gethr.com branding. The cockpit entrance was curtained off at the front of the plane. An illuminated sign indicated the bathroom to the rear. A bar area, also at the rear, was stocked with yet more champagne on ice and numerous spirits, next to a wall mounted LCD screen. Unlike the others, this particular screen was off.

“This is incredible,” Gwen said, looking at her name displayed in big blue characters on the touch screen computer monitor.

“So this is how the other half live, eh?” Dave grinned from ear to ear. “They have a bar, oh yes.”

“I could get used to this,” Max said, flopping down in front of his touch screen, “No expense spared I see.”

The letters of his name moved into an animated swirl, forming the all2gethr.com logo. Once again, the Alligator uncurled itself from the globe and stared out from the screens. Jaw waggling in vaguely lip-synched animation, its voice boomed over the speakers as the music faded out.

“As guests of all2gethr.com, you are cordially invited to be pilots in an all-new, exclusive social networking game. There are fantastic prizes to be won, including diamonds from Tiffany’s, VIP tickets for a Broadway show and, best of all, a brand new 4x4 Jeep!”

Jo and the others cheered and applauded.

“Stand by for further instructions. Please make yourselves at home.”

The grinning Alligator faded from their screens and the saccharine orchestral melody returned.

Curiosity, and the need to be away from Dave’s ‘unique’ sense of humour for just a little while, led Gwen to the bathroom. Bright ceiling-mounted lighting flickered into life as she opened the door.

Wow. Just… Wow, thought Gwen. She’d never seen luxury like this. The bathroom even had a shower cubicle as well as the requisite sink and toilet. A big LCD TV screen was mounted on the wall opposite the loo, little standby light glowing. She crossed to the sink and sniffed at the expensive soaps and moisturisers, stroking the soft cotton towels and flannels hanging there. There were even bathrobes, embroidered with the Deppart Airlines logo in heavy gold thread. Lush, she thought, Emily will never believe me when I tell her about this.

Gwen chuckled under her breath, imagining the look on her sister’s face. Always the rebel, Emily would probably have stolen a bathrobe by now and been kicked off the plane, God love her. Gwen checked herself in the circular mirror. The movie star lighting surrounding the mirror was flattering, and she dabbed a little of the complimentary cologne behind each ear. She smiled at herself, playing the part of the private jet set princess for an imaginary prince on the other side of the looking glass. What will my prince look like when he comes? More like Max than Dave I hope, she chuckled to herself. The sudden whine of the engines startled her from her reverie. Remembering what she was about to do she clutched at the sink instinctively, expecting the plane to lurch forward at any moment. The fingers of her right hand fumbled beneath her silk scarf, finding the warm metal of the crucifix pendant, hanging from its delicate silver chain. She stroked the familiar shape, drawing comfort from it.

Her mind raced as she asked herself what she was doing here, alone on this plane, flying to New York with a group of strangers. But that was her father’s voice. She could hear his authoritative tones sermonising in her head, dismissing her hopes, her dreams of working in the fashion industry. Focussing on her reflection in the mirror, she recounted all the reasons why she had to do this trip, why she needed it so badly. New York could open so many doors for her — opportunities that simply didn’t exist at home. One such opportunity had arisen when a friend on Gwen’s All2gethr list had offered to introduce her to a top fashion magazine editor. She’d get herself a meeting at one of the NY fashion bibles while she was there — even if she had to sleep over in a foyer.

Gwen was sprucing up her hair when the engine noise interrupted her thoughts once more, growing from a whine to a roar. Deep breaths. It’ll be okay, she thought. Please Lord above, let it be okay…

Jo and Max peered behind the curtain separating the cabin from the cockpit entrance. A small crew prep area lay between them and the cockpit door. It was dark inside, save for a red LED light set into the solid, shiny door. Jo looked at a wall-mounted numerical keypad next to the door.

“Very high-tech,” Max said, pressing his fingers against the door and peering into the red light. “All very mysterious isn’t it? Not even a flight attendant.”

“Yeah, you’d think they’d have a representative on board.”

Max glanced back at the cabin. “Well, we’ve got the cartoon Alligator for company I suppose — cool.”

He mimicked the creature’s waggling jaw with his hand. They laughed together, bathed in the intimate glow of the red light.

Jo caught a guilty flicker in Max’s eyes as he smiled at her. Easy tiger. The thought was intended for herself as much as it was for him. Remember he’s too young. Yeah, much too young for an old single mum like you. On the cusp of thirty she was far from old of course, but thinking of herself this way kept Jo out of trouble — usually.

From the way he was looking at her, Max clearly didn’t think she was an old maid. His face flushed a little and a question started to form on his lips, when the Alligator’s voice piped up again in the main cabin.

Saved by the bell, thought Jo.

“Please take to your seats, return them to the forward position and fasten your seat belts.”

Dave grinned at Jo, his eyes filled with boyish excitement, as she sat in her allocated seat opposite him. Max kicked back, clicking his seatbelt as Gwen returned from the bathroom, looking pale.

“You okay?”

Gwen nodded, a little subdued. She sat down and fumbled with her safety belt. Max leaned over to help her tighten it. Gwen blushed and stuttered her thanks like a lovestruck teenager. Jo watched Gwen surreptitiously, and rolled her eyes.

“This is it,” the Alligator proclaimed, “Get ready for the trip of your lives.”

“Fucken’ A!” Dave exclaimed, in a not-too-convincing American accent, leaning toward Jo to get her attention.

Jo smiled at him politely. She’d noticed how much of a shine he’d taken to her already and didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. After all, his slightly flirty demeanour was at odds with his online profile — all kisses and cuddles with his beautiful blonde fiancée. Jo figured it must be the drink that was making him ‘fresh’.

Fair enough, if he gets hammered and lays it on too thick in New York I’ll just remind him about his wedding, Jo thought. That ought to do the trick.

The screens flickered off and the jet began to roll forward, taxiing along the runway. The lights dimmed as the jet engines dipped, then roared into life. The whole cabin trembled, fittings creaking slightly as the plane thundered along the runway. The jet’s nose lifted skyward and they were airborne. The Challenger’s landing gear retracted with a distant clunk and Deppart Airlines Flight D-665 soared gracefully into the evening sky.

Jo watched the city shrink to the size of a model village as they climbed into the clouds. Soon, the view out of the window became a swirl of cloud vapour. Climbing further still, the plane began to level out, engines reverting to a constant, low hum.

Ding ding.

At the sound of the start-up chime, the computer screens flickered back to life with the jovial green face of the Alligator.

“Please refer to the onboard safety information cards provided in your seat pockets, which include all our emergency protocols for this Deppart Airlines charter flight.”

At this, Gwen took a little laminated card from her seat pocket. Her eyes darted over the diagrams of emergency exits and the passenger crash position. She quickly put the card back where it came from.

“There is no smoking allowed anywhere aboard this Challenger 604 private jet,” Alligator continued, “You are advised to keep your seatbelts fastened in case of unexpected turbulence.”

Dave clutched his belly. He looked at Jo in mock seriousness.

“I’m experiencing a bit of turbulence already, to be honest…”

He made a trumpeting sound with his lips. The others all groaned at his joke.

Jo frowned, realising that Dave reminded her of Sophie’s father. Like Dave, he’d been the life and soul of the party when they’d met. She’d loved being out with Sophie’s dad in social situations. But as their relationship had progressed, she’d come to know a darker, uglier side to him. The joker her friends adored was a sham, a mask behind which he could hide a selfish, egotistical streak. Dawn had cottoned onto it, but Jo had been blinded by her love for the man’s public persona. If only she’d listened to her mother, or had spotted it sooner herself. But then she wouldn’t change having had Sophie for the world. It wasn’t Sophie’s fault her dad had turned out to be such a complete loser.

The Alligator’s announcements went on. “In the event of loss of cabin pressure, oxygen masks will be deployed…”

“So, how long ’til New York?” Jo asked, ridding herself of her troubled memories.

“Six hours,” Max said, “Even quicker on the way back with the air stream.”

Jo smiled at Max’s endearing attention to detail.

“There will now be a short break before the in-flight entertainment begins,” the Alligator concluded before fading out from their screens once again.

The plane tilted slightly, adjusting course. Jo couldn’t help but notice Gwen tightening her grip on the arm rests of her seat, knuckles bone white.

“He’s a bit of a character isn’t he? Any of you been to New York before then?” asked Jo, making conversation.

Gwen looked at her, obviously trying to regain her composure. “Not me, this is my first time flying.”

“Really? You seem to be taking it quite well.” Jo tried to sound sincere, but in truth the girl looked terrified.

With a bored sigh, Dave unclipped his seatbelt and stood up, stretching his legs.

“What are you doing? I thought he told us to stay in our seats?” Gwen asked.

Dave made a dumb show, pretending he was being thrown around the cabin by turbulence. He wobbled and fell against the hull, grabbing hold of his seat back for support. Gwen looked even more nervous than she did during take off. Dave stopped still, quitting his act, and grinned at her.

“The look on your face!” He chuckled.

Max cracked up too, and soon they were all laughing along, Gwen included. Much as Dave’s clown-like demeanour might begin to grate after a six-hour flight, he clearly knew how to break the ice in social situations. He grabbed a bottle of champagne from the ice bucket on the bar, placing the little white cotton napkin over his forearm, proffering the bottle to Gwen like a seasoned waiter.

“Nice bottle of the 1985 for the lady?”

Dave’s faux-posh waiter voice was certainly better than his American one. He turned to Max, pointing the champagne bottle at him from his crotch, making a phallus of it.

“And for the gentleman too? Fancy some of this? Eh? Eh?”

He laughed — a dirty great lascivious guffaw. Max swatted the thrusting cork away, laughing along. Max’s eyes met Jo’s again. He looked more than a little embarrassed.

“All right, all right, only pulling your leg,” Dave said, sensing Max’s reticence to play along. “Shall I open it though, yeah?”

The others all nodded and Dave popped the cork loudly, froth spilling everywhere. They cheered him on as he sloshed fizzing champagne into four glasses, then handed them out. Jo hesitated, then took the overflowing flute glass from him, making a mental note to live a little while she had the opportunity.

One more won’t kill me, she thought.