Stopover in Honolulu

Perhaps it was the turbulence that woke her. Or was she dreaming? She found herself gazing up at a tall, lean, male figure in company uniform with two gold braids on his sleeve.

“I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

Jill Harding rubbed her eyes, adjusted her reclining seat, sat up, and smiled.

“Not at all! I was just dozing.”

She was travelling business class, having accumulated enough travel points for a free trip to visit her daughter in the US, with a stopover at Honolulu.

The officer introduced himself.

“My name is Robert Sutcliffe. I wondered if you might care to inspect the flight deck?”

What a surprise! Why me, of all the others in this section?

“It gets a bit boring for us up front on long trips,” he explained. “We enjoy a bit of company now and then.”

Jill followed him to the cockpit, where he arranged for her to sit in the jump seat behind the two pilots, one of them gazing in silence at the big circular computer screen with the radio-compass beside it, the other eating his dinner from a tray on his lap. The Captain was reclining on a bunk reading the morning newspaper.

She listened attentively as Sutcliffe rattled off details of engine performance, fuel conservation, navigation measures, computerised landing system controls. From time to time the others joined in, pointing out star constellations in the pre-dawn sky, showing her on a map their progress towards Hawaii.

As Robert accompanied her back to her cabin seat he enquired about her trip.

“I’ve been visiting my daughter in Washington. My husband is a mining engineer on an overseas project.”

“Where are you staying in Honolulu?”

“At the Hyatt.”

“That’s right next to where we’ll be stationed. Why don’t you join me for dinner?”

It was a bold pass. Jill looked up into his grey eyes. There was no guile about him at all. His intentions were transparently obvious.

“That’s very kind of you, but I have only a limited time, and I have to shop for friends. I’m sorry. It would have been nice.”

Lothario was not in the least deterred.

“I can help you with your shopping. This is my second home. I know all the best places. I can save you a lot of time.”

“No, really …”

“Please! I’d love to take you on a guided tour.”

Something in his tone swayed her, against her better judgment. Was it the alienation from her long-absent husband, or the thought of having to return home to her empty house? Or was it that he was just a damned good persuader? Whatever it was, she knew she had to say no!

“I …”

“I’ll call for you at three o’clock!”

He was gone before she could reply.

You don’t have to meet him. You can stay in your room. Or leave on your shopping expedition before he appears. And yet … She remained in a state of turmoil, as if deprived of the will to act as she knew she ought to have done.

He was punctual. In the back of her mind she had cherished the hope that he might not turn up. Now that he stood before her in the hotel foyer her conscience rose in revolt. Be firm. Tell him you can’t go out with him. You’re a married woman.

“I’ll take you to the best shops downtown. You won’t get what you want here. It’s all over-priced.”

He had a car waiting. In a moment she was whisked away from the hotel, speeding through the streets, heading for downtown Honolulu.

The next three hours passed in a flash. Robert took her to all the best shops. Jill forgot that she was on tour, so delighted was she with her purchases. Her escort remained in the background, pacing quietly in the distance as she made her selections, showing no impatience over her prolonged transactions. When all was done and she emerged, loaded with her parcels, happy and contented, he made no complaint.

“Thanks for being so patient. It must have been very dull for you.”

She knew he would expect to be rewarded. She knew she was allowing herself to slip into the abyss of irresponsibility. Now, one thought only dominated her mind. How could she put an end to it?

Why not decline the dinner invitation? Just smile, and tell him you’re tired and need a rest.

Back at the hotel both were reticent. He stood before her, looking awkward. It was as if he could read her thoughts, afraid she would refuse his overture.

“What do you think, Jill? Dinner?”

“Look, I really ought to have an early night …”

His face fell. He looked so disappointed. In a moment she had done a back flip and agreed to meet him in the dining room at seven.

You don’t know what you’re letting yourself in for. This is sheer lunacy. A man you’ve never seen before, whose only claim to respectability is those two gold tabs on his sleeve. You haven’t a clue whether he’s married, bigamous, or divorced. You’re asking for trouble!

As she showered and made up her face before the mirror she answered her inner guardian. I don’t have to invite him into my room. At the end of the dinner I can still say no. That’s if you haven’t had too much to drink! Don’t worry, I won’t drink too much. Just don’t invite him into your room, that’s all! I won’t.

The Hyatt turned on a superb dinner. A young woman artist performed a repertoire of classical music on the harp. Robert proved excellent company. Like the afternoon, it was over too soon. During the dinner Jill forgot her apprehensions, forgot she was with a stranger, forgot everything except the pleasure of wining and dining. When they had dragged out time as long as possible over coffee, Robert escorted her to the lift.

She said nothing as they passed along the corridor to the door of her room. Feeling acutely ill at ease, she still made no attempt to forestall the inevitable.

“It’s been a lovely evening, Robert. Thank you for the dinner.”

He smiled.

“It was a pleasure.”

Still she hesitated. Now was the time to depart gracefully. A quick chaste kiss, nothing more.

“Would you care to come in for a nightcap?”

He grinned.

“Just one!”

There! You’ve burned your bridges, just as you knew all along you would. You’re committed now. Just think of what all your friends would say if they knew!

It was then that disaster struck. The headache began, with all its characteristic features, the aura, the sickness, the flashing lights, the one-sided, intense pain that could not be ignored.

“What’s the matter, Jill? You don’t look well.”

“I’m sorry. It’s come on suddenly. I haven’t had one for a while.”

“Migraine?”

She nodded. He won’t believe me. He’ll think it’s just an excuse. She watched the frown appear on his brow, the look of anxiety.

She cracked hardy. “Don’t worry, Robert. It’ll pass.”

But it did not pass. This one was a monster. She recognised immediately that it was one of those murderous attacks she had dreaded so much, one that would grow in intensity until she was nearly driven out of her mind.

“I think I’ll have to lie down.”

“Can I get you anything?”

She shook her head.

“Please sit down and pour yourself a whisky. I’ll be all right shortly.”

He looked worried. But as there appeared to be nothing else he could do he followed her instructions.

She swallowed an imigran tablet. It made no difference. Oblivious of his presence she took off her skirt and jacket to stand in front of the wardrobe in her underwear looking for a bathrobe. The pain was now so bad she hardly knew what she was doing. Robert found the robe, draped it around her, and watched anxiously as she kicked off her shoes and stretched out on the bed, shutting her eyes and pressing her fingers to her temples. Robert came and sat beside her on the side of the bed.

“It’s a bad one, isn’t it?”

“I’m so sorry to do this to you. I feel so awful about it.”

He placed a hand on her shoulder, pressing it gently.

“Would you like me to leave?”

She shook her head. More than ever now, she wanted him to stay.

“Is there nothing at all I can do to help you?”

“No. I’ll just have to grit my teeth until it’s over. But please don’t go!”

For the next hour he remained at her side in silence, comforting her as best he could with a hand resting lightly on her arm, from time to time pressing it against her temple, massaging the muscles gently. But the headache did not pass. Instead, it grew in ferocity, until she became incapable of movement. Finally he rose to his feet.

“I’m going to find a doctor.”

“There’s no need. I’m already armed with a prescription for pethidine in case of an emergency like this. If you could possibly find a drug store I can give myself the injection.”

He was away for an age. When he returned he was profusely apologetic. He had roamed the downtown shopping area until he found a shop that was open.

“I’m sorry it took so long.”

“Thank God you managed to get hold of the stuff!”

Her last memory of him was seeing him sitting at the bedside, holding her hand until she passed out.

…………………………………………….

She felt as if she’d been flattened by a bus. But the injection had worked. The pain was gone. Glancing about her, she realised it was morning. Then her eye lit upon the bedside clock.

“Ye gods! Look at the time. I’m going to miss my plane!”

There was not a minute to be lost. A quick shower, hurried makeup, cases crammed full in disorder, a frenzied race to the airport, glancing at her watch all the way. The cab got caught in heavy traffic. As it neared the airport Jill’s heart sank. If she missed this flight she could be stuck in Hawaii for several days. It was the busy time of the year.

She was out of breath when she staggered up to the check-in counter. To her surprise the flight was still open. The departure had been delayed. Through the large plate-glass window she saw men gathered around the aircraft. The cowling of one inboard engine was off. Workmen with torches and hammers stood on a tall portable platform probing the maze of pipes and wires exposed to view.

Robert was waiting for her at the entrance door.

“What happened? Where have you been? We’ve been so worried about you!”

“I’m afraid I slept in.”

“You should have let me call you. I told Captain we couldn’t leave.”

Jill looked at him in disbelief.

“Surely he didn’t wait just for me?”

Sutcliffe looked down, averting her eyes.

“I told the Captain we had low oil pressure in number two. I’m the engineer, you see. I can always find something wrong with the aeroplane if I have to.”

Jill gazed at him in amazement. This man had held up departure of an aircraft with three hundred passengers for nearly an hour just so she wouldn’t be left behind!

As she settled into her seat and heard the Captain apologise to the passengers for their late start, announcing that the trouble had been rectified, she gazed out at the workmen in silent wonder. Within minutes the cowling covers were restored, the mechanics had disappeared, the hatches closed. The whine of the turbines shook the aircraft. They were away.

All the way across the Pacific she thought about the engineer. He had been so considerate. He had asked her for nothing. As the aircraft headed west and dusk fell over the ocean she gazed out at the stars in the clear night sky, pondering what to do to acknowledge his courtesy. On an impulse, she rummaged in her bag, tore a page from her notebook, scribbled her address and telephone number, then slipped the note into a readily accessible place in the bag.

He was standing at the door as the passengers alighted. Jill paused, held out her hand, felt him squeeze it gently.

“Thank you so much for your help.”

She was halfway along the ramp before realising that she still clutched the scrap of paper in her other hand. In her elated mood she had forgotten to give it to him. With the sudden awareness of her mistake, and the anguish of regret for what might have been, she was seized by the impulse to retrace her steps. But a stern inner voice issued its terse command. The ball is over. Your pumpkin coach is waiting to take you back to the grey world of reality. Just keep walking. Don’t look back. Don’t even turn your head. Otherwise you’ll only break down and cry and make an ass of yourself.

She reached the passport checkout without flinching, but the haunting memory of that brief encounter with the engineer lingered long in her mind.