It’s okay, I’ve made it this far, finally there is no turning back. Of course, it would be a lot easier if I weren’t dragging this busted suitcase behind me. If it could have just lasted until I got to the hotel, but no, it decided to lose a wheel getting out of the taxi. Great. At least, finally, the check-in desk is in sight.
Now I just had to decide, left or right. The queue to my left contained two businessmen and an old couple. On the right, a family of eight and a young couple. There is no way I am waiting behind that family; I’ll take my chances going left.
Dragging my broken case around the maze of barriers, I could hear the remaining wheel about to break, but nothing was going to stop me. I needed this holiday and broken luggage or not, I was getting on that plane.
“Have you got the passports?” The old gentlemen asked his wife in front of me. He looked like a proper gentleman too, pressed trousers, waistcoat, blazer, with a neat parting in his grey hair and an old suitcase that matched his leather shoes. They just do not make men like that anymore, classy. The last time I was at the airport my ex-boyfriend joined me wearing a tracksuit and baseball cap, he was just a different species. Of course, this man was three times my age, but still, he knew how to make an impression and I bet he still opened the door for his wife.
“Yes. For the last time yes!” His wife said as she patted her handbag. I noticed that her skirt matched his suit and her handbag, made from the same leather as his shoes. How lucky they were to have each other. I bet he brought her flowers every week, she would bake him cakes, they lived in a little cottage with an orchard. Their grandkids would come and visit from the city where their children worked. Life can be so easy when things work out. Will I ever have that?
I glanced over to the other queue. I shouldn’t do it, but everyone does. I wanted to make sure that the young couple were still stuck behind that huge family. Good, they were, but I didn’t like the way the girl looked at me. So what if you’re with your boyfriend and I’m alone, it’s allowed. Besides, I wouldn’t be alone for long, my family were already out there, on the beach, soaking in the sun. It was just my luck that I had to work late and catch a different flight.
The huge family moved towards the desk and everyone watched. No-one could resist seeing how this would play out. A stressed-out mum and a spaced-out dad along with a little old lady who looked like she had recently been resurrected, mums’ sister who was yelling down the phone at someone and four kids who were busy playing chase throughout the terminal. Right now my choice to go left was looking pretty good. The handsome businessman at the front of my queue was just finishing up, then there was another, much older suited man and the jet setting old couple in front of me. I would be sipping martinis in the airport lounge before that young couple got to the front of their queue.
I moved forward in the queue and wouldn’t you know it, the final wheel came off. The weight of suddenly dragging a twenty-kilo case hit me and I fell forward, collapsing onto the polished marble floor with a thud. Soon I would be there, I kept telling myself, in the sun, good food and enjoying life. I wasn’t enjoying life at the moment but at least there weren’t many people around to see me fall.
“Are you alright?” The deep voice came from above as a large hand reached down to help me up. It was the handsome businessman from the front of the queue; great he had seen me make a fool of myself. Nothing knew there then.
“Here, take my hand.” He said as he easily lifted me back up. Perhaps some of the men out there are gentlemen after all.
“Thank you.” I said, trying to hide my embarrassment behind my hair as I composed myself.
“Anytime, you take care now!” He said as he let go and stepped back. To be honest I think I held onto his hand for slightly longer than I should of. I always do that, scare off the good ones before I can even learn their name.
He smiled at me, an angelic smile that told me he was off to his villa for the weekend after a long week saving children in the hospital surgery. Next week I am sure he will be rescuing pandas or donating money to an orphanage but for now, all I had was his smile to cling too as he left my life and made his way through the airport.
I caught sight of the young couple in the other queue. Her! She certainly had it in for me, I could tell. She held her boyfriend close but she was watching my interaction with Mr Wonderful and now she wore a huge smile as we both realised I had blown it with him. Like usual.
Great! She caught me looking back at her. That’s right, give your boyfriend a big kiss, show everybody how in love you both are. I am sure he is more interested in the football game he’s watching on his phone though. Besides that, I’ll be through the gate a long time before you, I expect the other businessman won’t take long and this old couple looks like seasoned travellers. Good luck with that huge family in front of you, hope you don’t miss your flight.
“What do you mean?” I heard the middle-aged man in front ask the air stewardess. “Why doesn’t your flight have a business class? You expect me to sit with everyone else, how am I expected to get work done with screaming kids around?”
Great. This guy was a complainer. Still, that family of eight won’t be any quicker. I looked over, expecting to see a riot, how wrong could I have been. Stressed out mum had everything under control. Passports, done, everyone was lining up, in the correct order to drop their cases off, even the sister was off the phone and helping the little old lady along. It was a military manoeuvre of the highest precision. I know everyone says that when you travel in groups you have to be organised but what I was witnessing was unreal.
I looked back at my queue. Now the guy was demanding to see a manager and refusing to get out of the way. Brilliant.
The lovely couple in front of me took this chance to get out a newspaper each. They leaned against their cases, put on their glasses and started to read their articles. I bet they did this every morning over a pot of tea and scones, then they probably shared a crossword. Of course, I’m not expecting perfection, but is it too much to ask for someone who shares an interest or even just listens to me when I talk.
Well, it looks like super mum has got the family through in record time. They collected their passports and were on their way. That’s right girl, you and your boyfriend get yourselves checked in. I’ll give you three months, once his eyes start wandering on the beach and the pool water washes off your make-up, then we’ll see who is laughing. Was that a little smile she threw at me? Well, I am not going to get drawn into this war. I’ll turn my back on her.
“Two to Barcelona.” Even her voice was annoying, high pitched and whiny. How do men put up with that? Besides, she is too young to know what love is, not like the couple in front of me, they were a testament to the good old days when you found someone and loved them through thick and thin. People these days were too fickle, giving up too easily as soon as things get tough. But did she say Barcelona? Did I hear that right? She would be on my flight?
“You’re staying in the ‘W’ Hotel, enjoy your holiday with us.” The lady behind the counter said as she gave back their passports. They were on my plane and staying in a better hotel than me. Typical.
“Sir, if you could just step aside a colleague will be along to deal with your request.” The calm lady behind my counter insisted before asking the elderly couple forward. Finally, things were moving.
“Doris, this isn’t my passport.” The gentleman said. “This is Frank’s”
“Really? I could have sworn I last went on holiday with you, I suppose I should have checked.”
“Gloria wouldn’t have made this mistake.” The old man complained as he handed back the little passport.
“Gloria wouldn’t do a lot of things I do for you, don’t forget that!” Doris remarked as she took the passport. “Don’t worry, I’ll get Herbert to bring your passport.”
“Your husband? Don’t bother, he’ll never get here on time.”
“Your right, he isn’t as fast as you, but sometimes speed isn’t everything.”
“Excuse me.” The polite lady behind the desk interrupted. I could tell she was as intrigued as I was by the whole situation. How many people were in that relationship? I guess we will never know. “If you haven’t got the right passport I need to ask you to step aside.”
Finally, it was my turn. One last struggle to drag the case onto the conveyor belt, now it was someone else’s problem.
“Hello, Mrs. Turner.” The lady said as she scanned my passport. Her hair was tied so far back, so tight, I was sure it was holding up her whole face. You don’t need anti-wrinkle cream when you can tie a bun that tight.
“Hi, and it’s Miss Turner.” I corrected her. I don’t know why I do that. Why does she care if I am married or not?
“Sorry.” She apologised. “Is it just the one case you are checking in today?”
“That’s right, and yes, I have packed it myself and it hasn’t left my sight.” I added, trying to hurry up the process. If I got through check-in quicker I’m sure the plane would take off sooner, that was my logic at least.
“Okay, that’s great. It looks like everything is in order here, one ticket to Barcelona, you are in seat 21B. I’ll just tag your case.” She swivelled in her chair, took one look at the battered case with the broken wheels and reached under the desk. I heard the ripping of stickers and then saw it. Across the black fabric she had stuck a huge sticker with the words “Damaged” written in large red letters. The story of my life.