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19:23
"Nothing, wrong, with The Times." Peter said, adjusting his seatbelt as he spoke.
"Nothing wrong?" Said Andrew. "We're 17, for Christ's sake. We're not supposed to read stuff like that."
Shelly smiled to herself as she sat down between Andrew and Peter.
"You ok?" Andrew said, changing the tone of his voice suddenly.
"Yeah." Shelly said. Peter winced, he knew how much she hated flying.
Andrew grabbed her hand, and held it tight for a few seconds, before slacking it and leaving it lay there.
"Where's Simon?" Andrew asked.
Simon appeared through the left door as he spoke. They had been sat in the centre aisle... it was a big plane... but he couldn't tell if he was lucky or not. He loved being able to see out of the window, the thousands of miles below him, but he hated having to disturb...
"...drink, before we take off sir?"
"Can I have a glass of water please?" Peter said. "Shelly, you want anything?"
"Yeah, can I have a glass of water too?" She asked, and the lady gave them both water.
"Why didn't you ask me?" Andrew asked.
"What?"
"Why didn't you ask me if I wanted a drink?"
Peter was used to this. "There's another trolley lady, or whatever they are, coming down on your side."
Andrew looked back, and Simon was buying a can. "Can I have a drink too please?"
"Sure sir."
"Just a glass of water please."
The lady poured the glass of water, and handed it over to Andrew, who let go of Shelly's hand to grasp the drink.
"So, what film's being shown here?" Andrew asked.
"Andrew, will you be quiet, please." Shelly said.
Andrew sat there, wide mouthed. "I'm only trying to take your mind off things."
"Then wait, wait until we're up in the air."
"Christ, ok, sorry." Andrew replied.
Peter's eyes darted away as Simon opened his can, the fizz snapping him awake again.
"Do you want to listen to music?" Peter asked. "I'll go get some headphones for you."
Shelly smiled. "No, it's ok, I'll be fine, really."
"You sure?"
"Go get me some, mate." Andrew said. "Hey, Simon, you want headphones?" He asked, as he turned around.
Simon already had headphones on, he'd bought his own, and was listening to music.
"Just me then." Andrew replied.
Peter got up, frowning, and walked to the trolley lady, who had moved to the front of the next section.
"Sir, you better sit down, we'll be taking off soon."
"Sorry, um, can I just have some headphones please? They're not for me, they're for my friend."
"Sure, ok, it's ten pound for a pair."
"Ten pound?" Peter said... "Jese... here."
They exchanged, and Peter sat back down, looking at the floor and around. Out the window, he could see all the cars that carried the stairs around moving away... and a few other airport vehicles that he didn't have any idea what they did. Probably put fuel in, or something.
"They were ten pound." Peter said.
"Ok, I'll pay you later." Andrew said. Peter smiled. Andrew had never repaid him. Not that either of them cared.
Andrew hooked up the headphones, and listened for a moment. He then turned them off, and held Shelly's hand instead and smiled.
"If I can have your attention for one moment please." A stewardess said. "We must first cover safety procedures before we leave."
Peter listened as they talked... he noticed Simon was reading through the sheet from the pocket in front of him... Peter wanted to as well, but he didn't want to upset Shelly, and of course, he didn't want to upset his head so early.
Lifejackets under your chair, oxygen falls from above, make sure your childen have their masks on first.
"Don't worry, I'll make sure yours is on first." Andrew said to Shelly, and grinned. "And anyway, it can't be only oxygen, pure oxygen is poisonous."
Exits here, here and here. In a crash, lean forward, and tuck your head between your knees, all information in pocket in front of you.
"Not long now." Andrew said, "And then we'll be up in the skies."
Peter felt the rumble as the engines started, the constant whine that vibrates your innards... and then he felt they were moving, and watched as all the window watchers gazed out.
And the whines got louder and louder, and the plane took off, forcing Peter into the back of his chair... he turned to his left to see how Shelly was doing. She just had her eyes closed, and was clutching the seat rest and Andrew's hand tight.
Simon was listening to music again, and reading the magazine.
Peter felt the whines die away as they finally leveled out... and the Captain started to speak, on how high they had to fall, their speed, wind direction, all that stuff that nobody was sure if they were better knowing or not.
"You ok?" Andrew asked.
"Yeah, not so bad, yeah." Shelly replied.
Peter took a deep breath, and lay back in his chair.
-----------
Peter awoke fifty minutes into a film.
"What? The film started?"
"Yeah." Andrew said. Shelly was sleeping.
"Why didn't you wake me?"
"You've seen it before." Andrew said. "Didn't think it would bother you that much."
Peter nodded, that was fair enough... but he did tell him to wake him up if he fell asleep when the film started.
"Didn't realise they could show 15's on a plane. Thought they all had to be PG's or something."
"Seems not." Andrew said.
Simon was lying back, listening to music... didn't seem asleep.
Peter lay back again, and tried to get some more rest. Hated coming into a film half way through, even if he had seen if before.
-----------
Peter woke up with his head beating, and desperately tried to undo his seatbelt as his vision began to return.
"You going to be sick?" Shelly asked, and started searching through the front pocket for a sick bag. She pulled one out.
He snatched it off her... "Thanks"... And ran to the toilet... which was empty, fortunatly.
He spewed into the toilet, his head spinning and beating... The air pressure up here must be too much for him to cope with, unnatural air, never liked it.
Peter cupped himself, trying not to touch the seat pan, for who knew what had been there.
He hated flying. Hated it... not as much as Shelly hated it, there was nothing pyhscological about it, just the fact he puked up all the time.
This WAS the first time he'd flown in years though... He was car sick once, and now was better... you'll grow out of it, they said, and they were right. So why not airsickness? Did he need to fly more? Puke up more until he couldn't puke no more?
Peter smiled at himself, and wiped his mouth with the recycled toilet paper.
----------
"HELLO?"
Peter woke up, realising he had fallen asleep while thinking.
"ARE YOU ALRIGHT IN THERE?"
"Yeah!" Peter called back. "Yeah! I'm fine! Sorry, just not feeling well! I'll be out now!"
Peter felt the taste in his mouth again, and splashed water all over his face, and swilled his mouth out.
He unlocked the door, and a queue of about five men looked skywards as he left, one smiled. "Not fond of flying, eh?"
"No, not really." Peter said, and smiled.
Why couldn't he ever say something intelligent, Peter though, as he walked back... something witty. He sounded so dull when he spoke to strangers.
"Christ, how long did that take you?" Andrew asked.
Peter just smiled.
"You're such a wuss..." He said, before grinning at him. Peter's head was still throbbing, it wasn't easy having a sense of humour at this height.
-----------
Peter heard the drinks lady approuching, and opened his eyes. She had gone past, she must have left him because he was sleeping.
"Err..." He said, and leant forward a bit. "Sorry, can I have a drink?"
"Oh dear, I'm so sorry sir, I thought you were sleeping."
"Peter, it's ok, I got one for you." Shelly said. He turned around, and she had three drinks of water on her tray.
"Oh, um, thanks." He turned to the drinks lady. "It's ok now, thanks anyway." And smiled.
He took the water, and drunk it. "Thanks for that Shelly."
"That's ok."
He tried to think of something to say, and for the first time, something came straight away.
"I'm sorry for snatching the sick bag off you back then, by the way. I didn't mean to be rude."
"Oh, that's ok, don't worry about it." She said, and smiled. "You were going to be sick, you didn't need to be polite about it."
"Heh." Peter said, and smiled once more.
"And anyway, I didn't want to have your sick all over me." She said, and smiled back.
Simon was asleep now, his headphones off. Andrew was sleeping too. He tried to think of something else to say, to keep her mind off the flight.
"We don't talk much, do we?" He said.
"No, not really." She replied. "Perhaps we should."
"Yeah."
"Look, if you're trying to take my mind off flying, there's no need... I'm fine now, really."
"Well, no, it's not just that..." He said... and then thought. No. It wasn't just that at all. "...I want to talk to you. We don't talk."
"Well... what do you want to talk about?" She asked.
Peter's mind flooded with images, none of which he understood... "I dunno... it's hard to..."
"What do you want to be?"
"What?"
"I mean job." Shelly said. "What do you want to do?"
"Oh, right..." Lie lie lie lie... No, there was no need. He always lied about this... and she wanted to speak... "Well... I've... this is a bit odd... but I kinda want to make films."
"Really? Wow."
"It's... it's just I don't think I'm good enough, I mean, I'd have to take media studies like you do, and get some sort of degree... but I haven't a chance."
"Sure you do... you take art, don't you?"
"Yeah, but..."
"Art is good, isn't film an art?"
"But actual school art is different, I mean, it's more research into other artists, we don't really do that many pieces ourselves..."
"But what you DO do is good. Like that painting you did of the highway, that was really good."
"You liked that? I didn't even know you'd seen it."
"Heh." Shelly replied, and smiled. "But... erm... what was I going to say now!..." She said, smiling more... "Ah yeah... paintings, well, film is very much like just a series of paintings shown over and over... you know, just glimpses into what's been going on. If you can put enough detail into one scene, then surely you could make thousands, all with the same attention, and turn it into a movie? Well, that's what I'd be saying to interviewers, anyway."
"Nah, I won't get an interview." Peter said.
"Why not?"
"Well... I just don't think I'm good enough. I just copied that highway painting, it's not as if I imagined it."
"Well, sure, but as long as you can represent what you're thinking, then you can surely do whatever you want to. Once you have the skill, you can look deeper into your own imagination."
Peter smiled... "There... well, there was one painting I did, that I'm really proud of... it's... it's like this landscape I did, with this waterfall rising... well, I'll have to show it to you."
She smiled.
"Uh? What?" Andrew said.
"Ah, hi Andrew."
"What are you going to show to my girlfriend?" He said, grinning.
"Heh, nothing, don't worry." Peter said, and grinned back. "I need the toliet, I'll be back soon."
"Yeah, like last time." Andrew said. "I won't wait up." And grinned again.
Just a small queue, but Peter didn't really need the toliet. He just needed to get away for a second, and think.
He flushed the chain, and walked back.
"How longs left now?"
"Two hours, and we'll be there." Andrew said, pointing to the statistics on the big screen at the front.
"Ah, good." Peter said. "I... I think I'll sleep the rest of the way."
-----------
"...giva..."
"What was that?" Peter asked.
"It sounded like the Captain." Shelly said, "He must have turned the radio on for a second accidently."
"This is your Captain speaking. We're experiencing some slight turbulence, so you are advised to return to your seats, and make sure your seatbelts are tightly fitted."
The light by the fans above switched on, just as the Captain said it would.
Peter made sure his seatbelt was attached, and helped Shelly with hers. Andrew was sleeping, so Shelly woke him up.
"You ok?" Shelly said.
"Huh? Why'd you wake me up?"
"The Captain said we're going to go through some turbulence, so we've got to put our seatbelts on."
"It's on. Nighty night, see you when we land." Andrew said, and curled over.
Simon had checked his seatbelt. He looked a bit worried.
"Simon, are you ok?"
He looked at Peter, smiled and nodded.
The plane began to rock slightly... and the lights dimmed.
And the whine, the whine that had given Peter such a bad headache, stopped.
"The whine's stopped. I think the engines have stopped." Peter said, quietly.
"Oh God."
"This is your Captain speaking. The air pressure has dropped slightly, it's nothing to worry about, but we will now ask you to breath oxygen from the masks that will drop down for your own comfort."
"Oh God." Shelly repeated.
Peter's head was silenced. Was the Captain lying? He'd heard so many stories... and perhaps the oxygen was just to calm us...
A flight attentant appeared at the front, holding a mask.
"Please, before checking your own mask, that your children's masks are placed properly. Make sure you take deep breaths."
The masks fell, and Peter grabbed his, watching Shelly put hers on. She woke Andrew, who swore with wide eyes, and pulled the mask down over his face. Simon was shaking.
Another attentant came up to Simon, and helped him put his mask on. He nodded, and it looked as if he was trying to smile.
The lights completely went, and only small lights that lined the paths between the seats remained.
Peter breathed irrationally, and Shelly grabbed his hand, and held it tight. He squeezed back.
"This is your Captain speaking. We are going to perform a landing in the sea, it will be wise at this point, to take off your masks, and take the lifejackets from under your seat, and put them on. Be sure not to inflate them while inside the plane."
Another attentant appeared, her hands shaking as she placed the jacket over her head, making the signals on how to inflate the jacket, and where the whistle was. A man inflated his jacket, and the attentant stopped what she was doing, and ran to help him.
Andrew hit his head on the seat reaching down for his jacket, knocking his drink over. He pulled out his jacket and frantically tried to unpackage it.
Simon still sat there, with his mask on.
"ANDREW! FOR CHRIST'S SAKE, HELP SIMON!" Peter shouted, trying to be heard above the crying and shouting.
He looked at Peter, then at Simon, who was still focused on the back of the seat in front of him. He took off Simon's mask, and reached under to get out his jacket.
Shelly gripped Peter's hand tighter. Andrew sat back down, and saw what was happening.
She took off her mask, tears streaming down her face. "...I've... I've always loved you, ever since we first met, even before I went out with Andrew, I've loved you. I love the way you talk, the way you think, I love your art, I love you, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..."
She fell into Peter, and wrapped her arms around him. "I... I, the same, I love... I really, really love..." And Peter started to cry, holding Shelly tighter, letting his mask dangle in the air. They met, and they kissed, eachothers tears running down eachothers face. Their lips touched, and he felt her cool skin next to his, calming him, telling him all that he knew... deep down...
Andrew started to shake, closed his eyes, and tried taking deep breathes.
An attentant grabbed Peter's arm. "PLEASE put your masks back on! PLEASE!" And started to cry. Someone was being sick into the aisle, and the vomit was running down towards her feet.
"Go sit down! Make sure you're safe!" Peter said to the attentant, and put Shelly's mask back on. The attendant nodded, and ran back to the front to put her seatbelt on.
Peter put his own mask on, and took one deep breath. He hugged Shelly.
BAM
"We're here, Peter." Shelly said. "We're here."
Peter blinked. Everyone was smiling, looking out of the windows. The Captain's voice came over the radio.
"I thank you for a pleasant flight, and hope you fly British Air again. You shall be shown..."
"What, we landed?"
"Yeah." Shelly said, and picked up on his tone of voice.
"It's just I had a really odd dream..."
"Don't worry, we're here now." She said, and smiled. She turned over, and woke up Andrew.
Peter looked up and down the aisle. No sick. No cups, no drinks. Just people getting up, to leave the plane, some moaning about hating flying.
An attendant appeared. "Can you sit down for the moment please, and wait until the plane has come to a complete stop!"
The people who had stood looked around at the others, and made their way back to their seats.
Apart from Peter, who rushed up to be sick again. He moved his hand away from his mouth quickly to signal to the attentant, who winced.
-------------
"Hey, Peter? You ok now?" Andrew said, grinning. "You're the last one off."
"Yeah, I know." He said, and smiled. Simon had bought him a drink, and gave it to him. Shelly had picked up his Times, and gave that to him too.
"Hey, thanks Simon. Thanks Shelly, I'd forgotten about that."
"You know, I could do with a quick leak..." Andrew said. "I'll be back soon, don't go anywhere." He left for the toliets, and Simon shook his head, and walked off to the newsagent. Peter smiled.
"What did you dream about?" Shelly said.
Peter woke. "Err... it wasn't nice, I dreamt the plane crashed."
"Oh Christ, that's not nice... are you ok?"
"Yeah, now... but..."
"Yeah?"
"Doesn't matter. Are you ok now?"
"Yeah, just glad to get my feet back on solid ground." She said. "You're probably glad too, huh?" She smiled.
"Yeah, just the bus ride to go, but I can cope with that."
"Peter?"
Peter's heart skipped a beat to hear his name. He breathed, and said "Yes?"
"Did you dream anything else?"
He looked at the floor. He took another breath. "Yes. I dreamt you kissed me, when you realised you were going to die."
"Oh. That's funny." Shelly said, and Peter smiled, letting go. "Because I did kiss you. When you were sleeping."
She smiled at him, blinked, and began to walk over to where Simon was sitting, reading a magazine.
Peter stopped and thought. He called to Shelly the only thing that came into his head. "Didn't my breath smell of sick?"
She turned around, smiled, and laughed, and turned away and walked towards Simon. He looked up, looking at Peter as if to question him.
Peter just smiled and shook his head. He looked at the floor.
"Nothing, wrong, with The Times." Peter said, adjusting his seatbelt as he spoke.
"Nothing wrong?" Said Andrew. "We're 17, for Christ's sake. We're not supposed to read stuff like that."
Shelly smiled to herself as she sat down between Andrew and Peter.
"You ok?" Andrew said, changing the tone of his voice suddenly.
"Yeah." Shelly said. Peter winced, he knew how much she hated flying.
Andrew grabbed her hand, and held it tight for a few seconds, before slacking it and leaving it lay there.
"Where's Simon?" Andrew asked.
Simon appeared through the left door as he spoke. They had been sat in the centre aisle... it was a big plane... but he couldn't tell if he was lucky or not. He loved being able to see out of the window, the thousands of miles below him, but he hated having to disturb...
"...drink, before we take off sir?"
"Can I have a glass of water please?" Peter said. "Shelly, you want anything?"
"Yeah, can I have a glass of water too?" She asked, and the lady gave them both water.
"Why didn't you ask me?" Andrew asked.
"What?"
"Why didn't you ask me if I wanted a drink?"
Peter was used to this. "There's another trolley lady, or whatever they are, coming down on your side."
Andrew looked back, and Simon was buying a can. "Can I have a drink too please?"
"Sure sir."
"Just a glass of water please."
The lady poured the glass of water, and handed it over to Andrew, who let go of Shelly's hand to grasp the drink.
"So, what film's being shown here?" Andrew asked.
"Andrew, will you be quiet, please." Shelly said.
Andrew sat there, wide mouthed. "I'm only trying to take your mind off things."
"Then wait, wait until we're up in the air."
"Christ, ok, sorry." Andrew replied.
Peter's eyes darted away as Simon opened his can, the fizz snapping him awake again.
"Do you want to listen to music?" Peter asked. "I'll go get some headphones for you."
Shelly smiled. "No, it's ok, I'll be fine, really."
"You sure?"
"Go get me some, mate." Andrew said. "Hey, Simon, you want headphones?" He asked, as he turned around.
Simon already had headphones on, he'd bought his own, and was listening to music.
"Just me then." Andrew replied.
Peter got up, frowning, and walked to the trolley lady, who had moved to the front of the next section.
"Sir, you better sit down, we'll be taking off soon."
"Sorry, um, can I just have some headphones please? They're not for me, they're for my friend."
"Sure, ok, it's ten pound for a pair."
"Ten pound?" Peter said... "Jese... here."
They exchanged, and Peter sat back down, looking at the floor and around. Out the window, he could see all the cars that carried the stairs around moving away... and a few other airport vehicles that he didn't have any idea what they did. Probably put fuel in, or something.
"They were ten pound." Peter said.
"Ok, I'll pay you later." Andrew said. Peter smiled. Andrew had never repaid him. Not that either of them cared.
Andrew hooked up the headphones, and listened for a moment. He then turned them off, and held Shelly's hand instead and smiled.
"If I can have your attention for one moment please." A stewardess said. "We must first cover safety procedures before we leave."
Peter listened as they talked... he noticed Simon was reading through the sheet from the pocket in front of him... Peter wanted to as well, but he didn't want to upset Shelly, and of course, he didn't want to upset his head so early.
Lifejackets under your chair, oxygen falls from above, make sure your childen have their masks on first.
"Don't worry, I'll make sure yours is on first." Andrew said to Shelly, and grinned. "And anyway, it can't be only oxygen, pure oxygen is poisonous."
Exits here, here and here. In a crash, lean forward, and tuck your head between your knees, all information in pocket in front of you.
"Not long now." Andrew said, "And then we'll be up in the skies."
Peter felt the rumble as the engines started, the constant whine that vibrates your innards... and then he felt they were moving, and watched as all the window watchers gazed out.
And the whines got louder and louder, and the plane took off, forcing Peter into the back of his chair... he turned to his left to see how Shelly was doing. She just had her eyes closed, and was clutching the seat rest and Andrew's hand tight.
Simon was listening to music again, and reading the magazine.
Peter felt the whines die away as they finally leveled out... and the Captain started to speak, on how high they had to fall, their speed, wind direction, all that stuff that nobody was sure if they were better knowing or not.
"You ok?" Andrew asked.
"Yeah, not so bad, yeah." Shelly replied.
Peter took a deep breath, and lay back in his chair.
-----------
Peter awoke fifty minutes into a film.
"What? The film started?"
"Yeah." Andrew said. Shelly was sleeping.
"Why didn't you wake me?"
"You've seen it before." Andrew said. "Didn't think it would bother you that much."
Peter nodded, that was fair enough... but he did tell him to wake him up if he fell asleep when the film started.
"Didn't realise they could show 15's on a plane. Thought they all had to be PG's or something."
"Seems not." Andrew said.
Simon was lying back, listening to music... didn't seem asleep.
Peter lay back again, and tried to get some more rest. Hated coming into a film half way through, even if he had seen if before.
-----------
Peter woke up with his head beating, and desperately tried to undo his seatbelt as his vision began to return.
"You going to be sick?" Shelly asked, and started searching through the front pocket for a sick bag. She pulled one out.
He snatched it off her... "Thanks"... And ran to the toilet... which was empty, fortunatly.
He spewed into the toilet, his head spinning and beating... The air pressure up here must be too much for him to cope with, unnatural air, never liked it.
Peter cupped himself, trying not to touch the seat pan, for who knew what had been there.
He hated flying. Hated it... not as much as Shelly hated it, there was nothing pyhscological about it, just the fact he puked up all the time.
This WAS the first time he'd flown in years though... He was car sick once, and now was better... you'll grow out of it, they said, and they were right. So why not airsickness? Did he need to fly more? Puke up more until he couldn't puke no more?
Peter smiled at himself, and wiped his mouth with the recycled toilet paper.
----------
"HELLO?"
Peter woke up, realising he had fallen asleep while thinking.
"ARE YOU ALRIGHT IN THERE?"
"Yeah!" Peter called back. "Yeah! I'm fine! Sorry, just not feeling well! I'll be out now!"
Peter felt the taste in his mouth again, and splashed water all over his face, and swilled his mouth out.
He unlocked the door, and a queue of about five men looked skywards as he left, one smiled. "Not fond of flying, eh?"
"No, not really." Peter said, and smiled.
Why couldn't he ever say something intelligent, Peter though, as he walked back... something witty. He sounded so dull when he spoke to strangers.
"Christ, how long did that take you?" Andrew asked.
Peter just smiled.
"You're such a wuss..." He said, before grinning at him. Peter's head was still throbbing, it wasn't easy having a sense of humour at this height.
-----------
Peter heard the drinks lady approuching, and opened his eyes. She had gone past, she must have left him because he was sleeping.
"Err..." He said, and leant forward a bit. "Sorry, can I have a drink?"
"Oh dear, I'm so sorry sir, I thought you were sleeping."
"Peter, it's ok, I got one for you." Shelly said. He turned around, and she had three drinks of water on her tray.
"Oh, um, thanks." He turned to the drinks lady. "It's ok now, thanks anyway." And smiled.
He took the water, and drunk it. "Thanks for that Shelly."
"That's ok."
He tried to think of something to say, and for the first time, something came straight away.
"I'm sorry for snatching the sick bag off you back then, by the way. I didn't mean to be rude."
"Oh, that's ok, don't worry about it." She said, and smiled. "You were going to be sick, you didn't need to be polite about it."
"Heh." Peter said, and smiled once more.
"And anyway, I didn't want to have your sick all over me." She said, and smiled back.
Simon was asleep now, his headphones off. Andrew was sleeping too. He tried to think of something else to say, to keep her mind off the flight.
"We don't talk much, do we?" He said.
"No, not really." She replied. "Perhaps we should."
"Yeah."
"Look, if you're trying to take my mind off flying, there's no need... I'm fine now, really."
"Well, no, it's not just that..." He said... and then thought. No. It wasn't just that at all. "...I want to talk to you. We don't talk."
"Well... what do you want to talk about?" She asked.
Peter's mind flooded with images, none of which he understood... "I dunno... it's hard to..."
"What do you want to be?"
"What?"
"I mean job." Shelly said. "What do you want to do?"
"Oh, right..." Lie lie lie lie... No, there was no need. He always lied about this... and she wanted to speak... "Well... I've... this is a bit odd... but I kinda want to make films."
"Really? Wow."
"It's... it's just I don't think I'm good enough, I mean, I'd have to take media studies like you do, and get some sort of degree... but I haven't a chance."
"Sure you do... you take art, don't you?"
"Yeah, but..."
"Art is good, isn't film an art?"
"But actual school art is different, I mean, it's more research into other artists, we don't really do that many pieces ourselves..."
"But what you DO do is good. Like that painting you did of the highway, that was really good."
"You liked that? I didn't even know you'd seen it."
"Heh." Shelly replied, and smiled. "But... erm... what was I going to say now!..." She said, smiling more... "Ah yeah... paintings, well, film is very much like just a series of paintings shown over and over... you know, just glimpses into what's been going on. If you can put enough detail into one scene, then surely you could make thousands, all with the same attention, and turn it into a movie? Well, that's what I'd be saying to interviewers, anyway."
"Nah, I won't get an interview." Peter said.
"Why not?"
"Well... I just don't think I'm good enough. I just copied that highway painting, it's not as if I imagined it."
"Well, sure, but as long as you can represent what you're thinking, then you can surely do whatever you want to. Once you have the skill, you can look deeper into your own imagination."
Peter smiled... "There... well, there was one painting I did, that I'm really proud of... it's... it's like this landscape I did, with this waterfall rising... well, I'll have to show it to you."
She smiled.
"Uh? What?" Andrew said.
"Ah, hi Andrew."
"What are you going to show to my girlfriend?" He said, grinning.
"Heh, nothing, don't worry." Peter said, and grinned back. "I need the toliet, I'll be back soon."
"Yeah, like last time." Andrew said. "I won't wait up." And grinned again.
Just a small queue, but Peter didn't really need the toliet. He just needed to get away for a second, and think.
He flushed the chain, and walked back.
"How longs left now?"
"Two hours, and we'll be there." Andrew said, pointing to the statistics on the big screen at the front.
"Ah, good." Peter said. "I... I think I'll sleep the rest of the way."
-----------
"...giva..."
"What was that?" Peter asked.
"It sounded like the Captain." Shelly said, "He must have turned the radio on for a second accidently."
"This is your Captain speaking. We're experiencing some slight turbulence, so you are advised to return to your seats, and make sure your seatbelts are tightly fitted."
The light by the fans above switched on, just as the Captain said it would.
Peter made sure his seatbelt was attached, and helped Shelly with hers. Andrew was sleeping, so Shelly woke him up.
"You ok?" Shelly said.
"Huh? Why'd you wake me up?"
"The Captain said we're going to go through some turbulence, so we've got to put our seatbelts on."
"It's on. Nighty night, see you when we land." Andrew said, and curled over.
Simon had checked his seatbelt. He looked a bit worried.
"Simon, are you ok?"
He looked at Peter, smiled and nodded.
The plane began to rock slightly... and the lights dimmed.
And the whine, the whine that had given Peter such a bad headache, stopped.
"The whine's stopped. I think the engines have stopped." Peter said, quietly.
"Oh God."
"This is your Captain speaking. The air pressure has dropped slightly, it's nothing to worry about, but we will now ask you to breath oxygen from the masks that will drop down for your own comfort."
"Oh God." Shelly repeated.
Peter's head was silenced. Was the Captain lying? He'd heard so many stories... and perhaps the oxygen was just to calm us...
A flight attentant appeared at the front, holding a mask.
"Please, before checking your own mask, that your children's masks are placed properly. Make sure you take deep breaths."
The masks fell, and Peter grabbed his, watching Shelly put hers on. She woke Andrew, who swore with wide eyes, and pulled the mask down over his face. Simon was shaking.
Another attentant came up to Simon, and helped him put his mask on. He nodded, and it looked as if he was trying to smile.
The lights completely went, and only small lights that lined the paths between the seats remained.
Peter breathed irrationally, and Shelly grabbed his hand, and held it tight. He squeezed back.
"This is your Captain speaking. We are going to perform a landing in the sea, it will be wise at this point, to take off your masks, and take the lifejackets from under your seat, and put them on. Be sure not to inflate them while inside the plane."
Another attentant appeared, her hands shaking as she placed the jacket over her head, making the signals on how to inflate the jacket, and where the whistle was. A man inflated his jacket, and the attentant stopped what she was doing, and ran to help him.
Andrew hit his head on the seat reaching down for his jacket, knocking his drink over. He pulled out his jacket and frantically tried to unpackage it.
Simon still sat there, with his mask on.
"ANDREW! FOR CHRIST'S SAKE, HELP SIMON!" Peter shouted, trying to be heard above the crying and shouting.
He looked at Peter, then at Simon, who was still focused on the back of the seat in front of him. He took off Simon's mask, and reached under to get out his jacket.
Shelly gripped Peter's hand tighter. Andrew sat back down, and saw what was happening.
She took off her mask, tears streaming down her face. "...I've... I've always loved you, ever since we first met, even before I went out with Andrew, I've loved you. I love the way you talk, the way you think, I love your art, I love you, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..."
She fell into Peter, and wrapped her arms around him. "I... I, the same, I love... I really, really love..." And Peter started to cry, holding Shelly tighter, letting his mask dangle in the air. They met, and they kissed, eachothers tears running down eachothers face. Their lips touched, and he felt her cool skin next to his, calming him, telling him all that he knew... deep down...
Andrew started to shake, closed his eyes, and tried taking deep breathes.
An attentant grabbed Peter's arm. "PLEASE put your masks back on! PLEASE!" And started to cry. Someone was being sick into the aisle, and the vomit was running down towards her feet.
"Go sit down! Make sure you're safe!" Peter said to the attentant, and put Shelly's mask back on. The attendant nodded, and ran back to the front to put her seatbelt on.
Peter put his own mask on, and took one deep breath. He hugged Shelly.
BAM
"We're here, Peter." Shelly said. "We're here."
Peter blinked. Everyone was smiling, looking out of the windows. The Captain's voice came over the radio.
"I thank you for a pleasant flight, and hope you fly British Air again. You shall be shown..."
"What, we landed?"
"Yeah." Shelly said, and picked up on his tone of voice.
"It's just I had a really odd dream..."
"Don't worry, we're here now." She said, and smiled. She turned over, and woke up Andrew.
Peter looked up and down the aisle. No sick. No cups, no drinks. Just people getting up, to leave the plane, some moaning about hating flying.
An attendant appeared. "Can you sit down for the moment please, and wait until the plane has come to a complete stop!"
The people who had stood looked around at the others, and made their way back to their seats.
Apart from Peter, who rushed up to be sick again. He moved his hand away from his mouth quickly to signal to the attentant, who winced.
-------------
"Hey, Peter? You ok now?" Andrew said, grinning. "You're the last one off."
"Yeah, I know." He said, and smiled. Simon had bought him a drink, and gave it to him. Shelly had picked up his Times, and gave that to him too.
"Hey, thanks Simon. Thanks Shelly, I'd forgotten about that."
"You know, I could do with a quick leak..." Andrew said. "I'll be back soon, don't go anywhere." He left for the toliets, and Simon shook his head, and walked off to the newsagent. Peter smiled.
"What did you dream about?" Shelly said.
Peter woke. "Err... it wasn't nice, I dreamt the plane crashed."
"Oh Christ, that's not nice... are you ok?"
"Yeah, now... but..."
"Yeah?"
"Doesn't matter. Are you ok now?"
"Yeah, just glad to get my feet back on solid ground." She said. "You're probably glad too, huh?" She smiled.
"Yeah, just the bus ride to go, but I can cope with that."
"Peter?"
Peter's heart skipped a beat to hear his name. He breathed, and said "Yes?"
"Did you dream anything else?"
He looked at the floor. He took another breath. "Yes. I dreamt you kissed me, when you realised you were going to die."
"Oh. That's funny." Shelly said, and Peter smiled, letting go. "Because I did kiss you. When you were sleeping."
She smiled at him, blinked, and began to walk over to where Simon was sitting, reading a magazine.
Peter stopped and thought. He called to Shelly the only thing that came into his head. "Didn't my breath smell of sick?"
She turned around, smiled, and laughed, and turned away and walked towards Simon. He looked up, looking at Peter as if to question him.
Peter just smiled and shook his head. He looked at the floor.
Thanks, but monkey_man, you confuse.
That was really good. The plane crash bit was very gripping. The odd kind of details like the vomit rumming towards her feet actually added to it for some reason...
Well, very good stuff!
Well, very good stuff!
Good Yeah
I could relate to some of the stuff
I could relate to some of the stuff
And then Loki flew in and hit Snuggly with the level 7 brick he had attached to his hoverboard, yeah?
The story wasn't really about the "not what you think" thing... I mean, there is the element, obviously, but the main reason for me writing it was to create four characters. Simon is probably the weakest, but I really didn't want him to speak through the whole story, and still try and make something from him. Even though none of the dream was real, I think Simon's character really stands out there, and shows perhaps how well Peter knows him.
Who, of which, the story is based around. Andrew was this cocky kid, who had obviously asked Shelly out, not the other way around. Shelly and Peter wanted to go out, but neither had the confidence to really talk to eachother.
It's just a character story. I like characters, and I want to practise them more. :0)
Who, of which, the story is based around. Andrew was this cocky kid, who had obviously asked Shelly out, not the other way around. Shelly and Peter wanted to go out, but neither had the confidence to really talk to eachother.
It's just a character story. I like characters, and I want to practise them more. :0)
It's important, so I felt I shouldn't make it clear.
If the film talk was a dream... then for what reason did Shelly kiss him?
If the film talk was real, then it's a bit plainer.
I like to leave things like that. I wanted to make it clear that they've always been close but apart, for example, them knowing the details of what courses they take. Not plainly obvious, but for people to never talk, and then also know which subjects they take, there's obviously something there.
This isn't like any of my normal stories. It's actually a story, not an emotion written in a few words. :0)
I like this very much. I enjoy writing conversations, because it's pretty damn challenging.
If the film talk was a dream... then for what reason did Shelly kiss him?
If the film talk was real, then it's a bit plainer.
I like to leave things like that. I wanted to make it clear that they've always been close but apart, for example, them knowing the details of what courses they take. Not plainly obvious, but for people to never talk, and then also know which subjects they take, there's obviously something there.
This isn't like any of my normal stories. It's actually a story, not an emotion written in a few words. :0)
I like this very much. I enjoy writing conversations, because it's pretty damn challenging.
"Didn't my breath smell of sick?"
Excellent, another case of wishing he'd said something more intelligent, no doubt.
At which point did it become a dream, the last time he fell asleep, after talking about how he'd like to do film with Shelly, or did he dream that also?
Excellent, another case of wishing he'd said something more intelligent, no doubt.
At which point did it become a dream, the last time he fell asleep, after talking about how he'd like to do film with Shelly, or did he dream that also?
Hmmmm...
I'm not quite sure what to make of that. It's a bit like one of those 'Not What You Think' stories.
I enjoyed it, although i'm not sure why? I really don't know.
Explain.
I'm not quite sure what to make of that. It's a bit like one of those 'Not What You Think' stories.
I enjoyed it, although i'm not sure why? I really don't know.
Explain.
19:23
"Nothing, wrong, with The Times." Peter said, adjusting his seatbelt as he spoke.
"Nothing wrong?" Said Andrew. "We're 17, for Christ's sake. We're not supposed to read stuff like that."
Shelly smiled to herself as she sat down between Andrew and Peter.
"You ok?" Andrew said, changing the tone of his voice suddenly.
"Yeah." Shelly said. Peter winced, he knew how much she hated flying.
Andrew grabbed her hand, and held it tight for a few seconds, before slacking it and leaving it lay there.
"Where's Simon?" Andrew asked.
Simon appeared through the left door as he spoke. They had been sat in the centre aisle... it was a big plane... but he couldn't tell if he was lucky or not. He loved being able to see out of the window, the thousands of miles below him, but he hated having to disturb...
"...drink, before we take off sir?"
"Can I have a glass of water please?" Peter said. "Shelly, you want anything?"
"Yeah, can I have a glass of water too?" She asked, and the lady gave them both water.
"Why didn't you ask me?" Andrew asked.
"What?"
"Why didn't you ask me if I wanted a drink?"
Peter was used to this. "There's another trolley lady, or whatever they are, coming down on your side."
Andrew looked back, and Simon was buying a can. "Can I have a drink too please?"
"Sure sir."
"Just a glass of water please."
The lady poured the glass of water, and handed it over to Andrew, who let go of Shelly's hand to grasp the drink.
"So, what film's being shown here?" Andrew asked.
"Andrew, will you be quiet, please." Shelly said.
Andrew sat there, wide mouthed. "I'm only trying to take your mind off things."
"Then wait, wait until we're up in the air."
"Christ, ok, sorry." Andrew replied.
Peter's eyes darted away as Simon opened his can, the fizz snapping him awake again.
"Do you want to listen to music?" Peter asked. "I'll go get some headphones for you."
Shelly smiled. "No, it's ok, I'll be fine, really."
"You sure?"
"Go get me some, mate." Andrew said. "Hey, Simon, you want headphones?" He asked, as he turned around.
Simon already had headphones on, he'd bought his own, and was listening to music.
"Just me then." Andrew replied.
Peter got up, frowning, and walked to the trolley lady, who had moved to the front of the next section.
"Sir, you better sit down, we'll be taking off soon."
"Sorry, um, can I just have some headphones please? They're not for me, they're for my friend."
"Sure, ok, it's ten pound for a pair."
"Ten pound?" Peter said... "Jese... here."
They exchanged, and Peter sat back down, looking at the floor and around. Out the window, he could see all the cars that carried the stairs around moving away... and a few other airport vehicles that he didn't have any idea what they did. Probably put fuel in, or something.
"They were ten pound." Peter said.
"Ok, I'll pay you later." Andrew said. Peter smiled. Andrew had never repaid him. Not that either of them cared.
Andrew hooked up the headphones, and listened for a moment. He then turned them off, and held Shelly's hand instead and smiled.
"If I can have your attention for one moment please." A stewardess said. "We must first cover safety procedures before we leave."
Peter listened as they talked... he noticed Simon was reading through the sheet from the pocket in front of him... Peter wanted to as well, but he didn't want to upset Shelly, and of course, he didn't want to upset his head so early.
Lifejackets under your chair, oxygen falls from above, make sure your childen have their masks on first.
"Don't worry, I'll make sure yours is on first." Andrew said to Shelly, and grinned. "And anyway, it can't be only oxygen, pure oxygen is poisonous."
Exits here, here and here. In a crash, lean forward, and tuck your head between your knees, all information in pocket in front of you.
"Not long now." Andrew said, "And then we'll be up in the skies."
Peter felt the rumble as the engines started, the constant whine that vibrates your innards... and then he felt they were moving, and watched as all the window watchers gazed out.
And the whines got louder and louder, and the plane took off, forcing Peter into the back of his chair... he turned to his left to see how Shelly was doing. She just had her eyes closed, and was clutching the seat rest and Andrew's hand tight.
Simon was listening to music again, and reading the magazine.
Peter felt the whines die away as they finally leveled out... and the Captain started to speak, on how high they had to fall, their speed, wind direction, all that stuff that nobody was sure if they were better knowing or not.
"You ok?" Andrew asked.
"Yeah, not so bad, yeah." Shelly replied.
Peter took a deep breath, and lay back in his chair.
-----------
Peter awoke fifty minutes into a film.
"What? The film started?"
"Yeah." Andrew said. Shelly was sleeping.
"Why didn't you wake me?"
"You've seen it before." Andrew said. "Didn't think it would bother you that much."
Peter nodded, that was fair enough... but he did tell him to wake him up if he fell asleep when the film started.
"Didn't realise they could show 15's on a plane. Thought they all had to be PG's or something."
"Seems not." Andrew said.
Simon was lying back, listening to music... didn't seem asleep.
Peter lay back again, and tried to get some more rest. Hated coming into a film half way through, even if he had seen if before.
-----------
Peter woke up with his head beating, and desperately tried to undo his seatbelt as his vision began to return.
"You going to be sick?" Shelly asked, and started searching through the front pocket for a sick bag. She pulled one out.
He snatched it off her... "Thanks"... And ran to the toilet... which was empty, fortunatly.
He spewed into the toilet, his head spinning and beating... The air pressure up here must be too much for him to cope with, unnatural air, never liked it.
Peter cupped himself, trying not to touch the seat pan, for who knew what had been there.
He hated flying. Hated it... not as much as Shelly hated it, there was nothing pyhscological about it, just the fact he puked up all the time.
This WAS the first time he'd flown in years though... He was car sick once, and now was better... you'll grow out of it, they said, and they were right. So why not airsickness? Did he need to fly more? Puke up more until he couldn't puke no more?
Peter smiled at himself, and wiped his mouth with the recycled toilet paper.
----------
"HELLO?"
Peter woke up, realising he had fallen asleep while thinking.
"ARE YOU ALRIGHT IN THERE?"
"Yeah!" Peter called back. "Yeah! I'm fine! Sorry, just not feeling well! I'll be out now!"
Peter felt the taste in his mouth again, and splashed water all over his face, and swilled his mouth out.
He unlocked the door, and a queue of about five men looked skywards as he left, one smiled. "Not fond of flying, eh?"
"No, not really." Peter said, and smiled.
Why couldn't he ever say something intelligent, Peter though, as he walked back... something witty. He sounded so dull when he spoke to strangers.
"Christ, how long did that take you?" Andrew asked.
Peter just smiled.
"You're such a wuss..." He said, before grinning at him. Peter's head was still throbbing, it wasn't easy having a sense of humour at this height.
-----------
Peter heard the drinks lady approuching, and opened his eyes. She had gone past, she must have left him because he was sleeping.
"Err..." He said, and leant forward a bit. "Sorry, can I have a drink?"
"Oh dear, I'm so sorry sir, I thought you were sleeping."
"Peter, it's ok, I got one for you." Shelly said. He turned around, and she had three drinks of water on her tray.
"Oh, um, thanks." He turned to the drinks lady. "It's ok now, thanks anyway." And smiled.
He took the water, and drunk it. "Thanks for that Shelly."
"That's ok."
He tried to think of something to say, and for the first time, something came straight away.
"I'm sorry for snatching the sick bag off you back then, by the way. I didn't mean to be rude."
"Oh, that's ok, don't worry about it." She said, and smiled. "You were going to be sick, you didn't need to be polite about it."
"Heh." Peter said, and smiled once more.
"And anyway, I didn't want to have your sick all over me." She said, and smiled back.
Simon was asleep now, his headphones off. Andrew was sleeping too. He tried to think of something else to say, to keep her mind off the flight.
"We don't talk much, do we?" He said.
"No, not really." She replied. "Perhaps we should."
"Yeah."
"Look, if you're trying to take my mind off flying, there's no need... I'm fine now, really."
"Well, no, it's not just that..." He said... and then thought. No. It wasn't just that at all. "...I want to talk to you. We don't talk."
"Well... what do you want to talk about?" She asked.
Peter's mind flooded with images, none of which he understood... "I dunno... it's hard to..."
"What do you want to be?"
"What?"
"I mean job." Shelly said. "What do you want to do?"
"Oh, right..." Lie lie lie lie... No, there was no need. He always lied about this... and she wanted to speak... "Well... I've... this is a bit odd... but I kinda want to make films."
"Really? Wow."
"It's... it's just I don't think I'm good enough, I mean, I'd have to take media studies like you do, and get some sort of degree... but I haven't a chance."
"Sure you do... you take art, don't you?"
"Yeah, but..."
"Art is good, isn't film an art?"
"But actual school art is different, I mean, it's more research into other artists, we don't really do that many pieces ourselves..."
"But what you DO do is good. Like that painting you did of the highway, that was really good."
"You liked that? I didn't even know you'd seen it."
"Heh." Shelly replied, and smiled. "But... erm... what was I going to say now!..." She said, smiling more... "Ah yeah... paintings, well, film is very much like just a series of paintings shown over and over... you know, just glimpses into what's been going on. If you can put enough detail into one scene, then surely you could make thousands, all with the same attention, and turn it into a movie? Well, that's what I'd be saying to interviewers, anyway."
"Nah, I won't get an interview." Peter said.
"Why not?"
"Well... I just don't think I'm good enough. I just copied that highway painting, it's not as if I imagined it."
"Well, sure, but as long as you can represent what you're thinking, then you can surely do whatever you want to. Once you have the skill, you can look deeper into your own imagination."
Peter smiled... "There... well, there was one painting I did, that I'm really proud of... it's... it's like this landscape I did, with this waterfall rising... well, I'll have to show it to you."
She smiled.
"Uh? What?" Andrew said.
"Ah, hi Andrew."
"What are you going to show to my girlfriend?" He said, grinning.
"Heh, nothing, don't worry." Peter said, and grinned back. "I need the toliet, I'll be back soon."
"Yeah, like last time." Andrew said. "I won't wait up." And grinned again.
Just a small queue, but Peter didn't really need the toliet. He just needed to get away for a second, and think.
He flushed the chain, and walked back.
"How longs left now?"
"Two hours, and we'll be there." Andrew said, pointing to the statistics on the big screen at the front.
"Ah, good." Peter said. "I... I think I'll sleep the rest of the way."
-----------
"...giva..."
"What was that?" Peter asked.
"It sounded like the Captain." Shelly said, "He must have turned the radio on for a second accidently."
"This is your Captain speaking. We're experiencing some slight turbulence, so you are advised to return to your seats, and make sure your seatbelts are tightly fitted."
The light by the fans above switched on, just as the Captain said it would.
Peter made sure his seatbelt was attached, and helped Shelly with hers. Andrew was sleeping, so Shelly woke him up.
"You ok?" Shelly said.
"Huh? Why'd you wake me up?"
"The Captain said we're going to go through some turbulence, so we've got to put our seatbelts on."
"It's on. Nighty night, see you when we land." Andrew said, and curled over.
Simon had checked his seatbelt. He looked a bit worried.
"Simon, are you ok?"
He looked at Peter, smiled and nodded.
The plane began to rock slightly... and the lights dimmed.
And the whine, the whine that had given Peter such a bad headache, stopped.
"The whine's stopped. I think the engines have stopped." Peter said, quietly.
"Oh God."
"This is your Captain speaking. The air pressure has dropped slightly, it's nothing to worry about, but we will now ask you to breath oxygen from the masks that will drop down for your own comfort."
"Oh God." Shelly repeated.
Peter's head was silenced. Was the Captain lying? He'd heard so many stories... and perhaps the oxygen was just to calm us...
A flight attentant appeared at the front, holding a mask.
"Please, before checking your own mask, that your children's masks are placed properly. Make sure you take deep breaths."
The masks fell, and Peter grabbed his, watching Shelly put hers on. She woke Andrew, who swore with wide eyes, and pulled the mask down over his face. Simon was shaking.
Another attentant came up to Simon, and helped him put his mask on. He nodded, and it looked as if he was trying to smile.
The lights completely went, and only small lights that lined the paths between the seats remained.
Peter breathed irrationally, and Shelly grabbed his hand, and held it tight. He squeezed back.
"This is your Captain speaking. We are going to perform a landing in the sea, it will be wise at this point, to take off your masks, and take the lifejackets from under your seat, and put them on. Be sure not to inflate them while inside the plane."
Another attentant appeared, her hands shaking as she placed the jacket over her head, making the signals on how to inflate the jacket, and where the whistle was. A man inflated his jacket, and the attentant stopped what she was doing, and ran to help him.
Andrew hit his head on the seat reaching down for his jacket, knocking his drink over. He pulled out his jacket and frantically tried to unpackage it.
Simon still sat there, with his mask on.
"ANDREW! FOR CHRIST'S SAKE, HELP SIMON!" Peter shouted, trying to be heard above the crying and shouting.
He looked at Peter, then at Simon, who was still focused on the back of the seat in front of him. He took off Simon's mask, and reached under to get out his jacket.
Shelly gripped Peter's hand tighter. Andrew sat back down, and saw what was happening.
She took off her mask, tears streaming down her face. "...I've... I've always loved you, ever since we first met, even before I went out with Andrew, I've loved you. I love the way you talk, the way you think, I love your art, I love you, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..."
She fell into Peter, and wrapped her arms around him. "I... I, the same, I love... I really, really love..." And Peter started to cry, holding Shelly tighter, letting his mask dangle in the air. They met, and they kissed, eachothers tears running down eachothers face. Their lips touched, and he felt her cool skin next to his, calming him, telling him all that he knew... deep down...
Andrew started to shake, closed his eyes, and tried taking deep breathes.
An attentant grabbed Peter's arm. "PLEASE put your masks back on! PLEASE!" And started to cry. Someone was being sick into the aisle, and the vomit was running down towards her feet.
"Go sit down! Make sure you're safe!" Peter said to the attentant, and put Shelly's mask back on. The attendant nodded, and ran back to the front to put her seatbelt on.
Peter put his own mask on, and took one deep breath. He hugged Shelly.
BAM
"We're here, Peter." Shelly said. "We're here."
Peter blinked. Everyone was smiling, looking out of the windows. The Captain's voice came over the radio.
"I thank you for a pleasant flight, and hope you fly British Air again. You shall be shown..."
"What, we landed?"
"Yeah." Shelly said, and picked up on his tone of voice.
"It's just I had a really odd dream..."
"Don't worry, we're here now." She said, and smiled. She turned over, and woke up Andrew.
Peter looked up and down the aisle. No sick. No cups, no drinks. Just people getting up, to leave the plane, some moaning about hating flying.
An attendant appeared. "Can you sit down for the moment please, and wait until the plane has come to a complete stop!"
The people who had stood looked around at the others, and made their way back to their seats.
Apart from Peter, who rushed up to be sick again. He moved his hand away from his mouth quickly to signal to the attentant, who winced.
-------------
"Hey, Peter? You ok now?" Andrew said, grinning. "You're the last one off."
"Yeah, I know." He said, and smiled. Simon had bought him a drink, and gave it to him. Shelly had picked up his Times, and gave that to him too.
"Hey, thanks Simon. Thanks Shelly, I'd forgotten about that."
"You know, I could do with a quick leak..." Andrew said. "I'll be back soon, don't go anywhere." He left for the toliets, and Simon shook his head, and walked off to the newsagent. Peter smiled.
"What did you dream about?" Shelly said.
Peter woke. "Err... it wasn't nice, I dreamt the plane crashed."
"Oh Christ, that's not nice... are you ok?"
"Yeah, now... but..."
"Yeah?"
"Doesn't matter. Are you ok now?"
"Yeah, just glad to get my feet back on solid ground." She said. "You're probably glad too, huh?" She smiled.
"Yeah, just the bus ride to go, but I can cope with that."
"Peter?"
Peter's heart skipped a beat to hear his name. He breathed, and said "Yes?"
"Did you dream anything else?"
He looked at the floor. He took another breath. "Yes. I dreamt you kissed me, when you realised you were going to die."
"Oh. That's funny." Shelly said, and Peter smiled, letting go. "Because I did kiss you. When you were sleeping."
She smiled at him, blinked, and began to walk over to where Simon was sitting, reading a magazine.
Peter stopped and thought. He called to Shelly the only thing that came into his head. "Didn't my breath smell of sick?"
She turned around, smiled, and laughed, and turned away and walked towards Simon. He looked up, looking at Peter as if to question him.
Peter just smiled and shook his head. He looked at the floor.
"Nothing, wrong, with The Times." Peter said, adjusting his seatbelt as he spoke.
"Nothing wrong?" Said Andrew. "We're 17, for Christ's sake. We're not supposed to read stuff like that."
Shelly smiled to herself as she sat down between Andrew and Peter.
"You ok?" Andrew said, changing the tone of his voice suddenly.
"Yeah." Shelly said. Peter winced, he knew how much she hated flying.
Andrew grabbed her hand, and held it tight for a few seconds, before slacking it and leaving it lay there.
"Where's Simon?" Andrew asked.
Simon appeared through the left door as he spoke. They had been sat in the centre aisle... it was a big plane... but he couldn't tell if he was lucky or not. He loved being able to see out of the window, the thousands of miles below him, but he hated having to disturb...
"...drink, before we take off sir?"
"Can I have a glass of water please?" Peter said. "Shelly, you want anything?"
"Yeah, can I have a glass of water too?" She asked, and the lady gave them both water.
"Why didn't you ask me?" Andrew asked.
"What?"
"Why didn't you ask me if I wanted a drink?"
Peter was used to this. "There's another trolley lady, or whatever they are, coming down on your side."
Andrew looked back, and Simon was buying a can. "Can I have a drink too please?"
"Sure sir."
"Just a glass of water please."
The lady poured the glass of water, and handed it over to Andrew, who let go of Shelly's hand to grasp the drink.
"So, what film's being shown here?" Andrew asked.
"Andrew, will you be quiet, please." Shelly said.
Andrew sat there, wide mouthed. "I'm only trying to take your mind off things."
"Then wait, wait until we're up in the air."
"Christ, ok, sorry." Andrew replied.
Peter's eyes darted away as Simon opened his can, the fizz snapping him awake again.
"Do you want to listen to music?" Peter asked. "I'll go get some headphones for you."
Shelly smiled. "No, it's ok, I'll be fine, really."
"You sure?"
"Go get me some, mate." Andrew said. "Hey, Simon, you want headphones?" He asked, as he turned around.
Simon already had headphones on, he'd bought his own, and was listening to music.
"Just me then." Andrew replied.
Peter got up, frowning, and walked to the trolley lady, who had moved to the front of the next section.
"Sir, you better sit down, we'll be taking off soon."
"Sorry, um, can I just have some headphones please? They're not for me, they're for my friend."
"Sure, ok, it's ten pound for a pair."
"Ten pound?" Peter said... "Jese... here."
They exchanged, and Peter sat back down, looking at the floor and around. Out the window, he could see all the cars that carried the stairs around moving away... and a few other airport vehicles that he didn't have any idea what they did. Probably put fuel in, or something.
"They were ten pound." Peter said.
"Ok, I'll pay you later." Andrew said. Peter smiled. Andrew had never repaid him. Not that either of them cared.
Andrew hooked up the headphones, and listened for a moment. He then turned them off, and held Shelly's hand instead and smiled.
"If I can have your attention for one moment please." A stewardess said. "We must first cover safety procedures before we leave."
Peter listened as they talked... he noticed Simon was reading through the sheet from the pocket in front of him... Peter wanted to as well, but he didn't want to upset Shelly, and of course, he didn't want to upset his head so early.
Lifejackets under your chair, oxygen falls from above, make sure your childen have their masks on first.
"Don't worry, I'll make sure yours is on first." Andrew said to Shelly, and grinned. "And anyway, it can't be only oxygen, pure oxygen is poisonous."
Exits here, here and here. In a crash, lean forward, and tuck your head between your knees, all information in pocket in front of you.
"Not long now." Andrew said, "And then we'll be up in the skies."
Peter felt the rumble as the engines started, the constant whine that vibrates your innards... and then he felt they were moving, and watched as all the window watchers gazed out.
And the whines got louder and louder, and the plane took off, forcing Peter into the back of his chair... he turned to his left to see how Shelly was doing. She just had her eyes closed, and was clutching the seat rest and Andrew's hand tight.
Simon was listening to music again, and reading the magazine.
Peter felt the whines die away as they finally leveled out... and the Captain started to speak, on how high they had to fall, their speed, wind direction, all that stuff that nobody was sure if they were better knowing or not.
"You ok?" Andrew asked.
"Yeah, not so bad, yeah." Shelly replied.
Peter took a deep breath, and lay back in his chair.
-----------
Peter awoke fifty minutes into a film.
"What? The film started?"
"Yeah." Andrew said. Shelly was sleeping.
"Why didn't you wake me?"
"You've seen it before." Andrew said. "Didn't think it would bother you that much."
Peter nodded, that was fair enough... but he did tell him to wake him up if he fell asleep when the film started.
"Didn't realise they could show 15's on a plane. Thought they all had to be PG's or something."
"Seems not." Andrew said.
Simon was lying back, listening to music... didn't seem asleep.
Peter lay back again, and tried to get some more rest. Hated coming into a film half way through, even if he had seen if before.
-----------
Peter woke up with his head beating, and desperately tried to undo his seatbelt as his vision began to return.
"You going to be sick?" Shelly asked, and started searching through the front pocket for a sick bag. She pulled one out.
He snatched it off her... "Thanks"... And ran to the toilet... which was empty, fortunatly.
He spewed into the toilet, his head spinning and beating... The air pressure up here must be too much for him to cope with, unnatural air, never liked it.
Peter cupped himself, trying not to touch the seat pan, for who knew what had been there.
He hated flying. Hated it... not as much as Shelly hated it, there was nothing pyhscological about it, just the fact he puked up all the time.
This WAS the first time he'd flown in years though... He was car sick once, and now was better... you'll grow out of it, they said, and they were right. So why not airsickness? Did he need to fly more? Puke up more until he couldn't puke no more?
Peter smiled at himself, and wiped his mouth with the recycled toilet paper.
----------
"HELLO?"
Peter woke up, realising he had fallen asleep while thinking.
"ARE YOU ALRIGHT IN THERE?"
"Yeah!" Peter called back. "Yeah! I'm fine! Sorry, just not feeling well! I'll be out now!"
Peter felt the taste in his mouth again, and splashed water all over his face, and swilled his mouth out.
He unlocked the door, and a queue of about five men looked skywards as he left, one smiled. "Not fond of flying, eh?"
"No, not really." Peter said, and smiled.
Why couldn't he ever say something intelligent, Peter though, as he walked back... something witty. He sounded so dull when he spoke to strangers.
"Christ, how long did that take you?" Andrew asked.
Peter just smiled.
"You're such a wuss..." He said, before grinning at him. Peter's head was still throbbing, it wasn't easy having a sense of humour at this height.
-----------
Peter heard the drinks lady approuching, and opened his eyes. She had gone past, she must have left him because he was sleeping.
"Err..." He said, and leant forward a bit. "Sorry, can I have a drink?"
"Oh dear, I'm so sorry sir, I thought you were sleeping."
"Peter, it's ok, I got one for you." Shelly said. He turned around, and she had three drinks of water on her tray.
"Oh, um, thanks." He turned to the drinks lady. "It's ok now, thanks anyway." And smiled.
He took the water, and drunk it. "Thanks for that Shelly."
"That's ok."
He tried to think of something to say, and for the first time, something came straight away.
"I'm sorry for snatching the sick bag off you back then, by the way. I didn't mean to be rude."
"Oh, that's ok, don't worry about it." She said, and smiled. "You were going to be sick, you didn't need to be polite about it."
"Heh." Peter said, and smiled once more.
"And anyway, I didn't want to have your sick all over me." She said, and smiled back.
Simon was asleep now, his headphones off. Andrew was sleeping too. He tried to think of something else to say, to keep her mind off the flight.
"We don't talk much, do we?" He said.
"No, not really." She replied. "Perhaps we should."
"Yeah."
"Look, if you're trying to take my mind off flying, there's no need... I'm fine now, really."
"Well, no, it's not just that..." He said... and then thought. No. It wasn't just that at all. "...I want to talk to you. We don't talk."
"Well... what do you want to talk about?" She asked.
Peter's mind flooded with images, none of which he understood... "I dunno... it's hard to..."
"What do you want to be?"
"What?"
"I mean job." Shelly said. "What do you want to do?"
"Oh, right..." Lie lie lie lie... No, there was no need. He always lied about this... and she wanted to speak... "Well... I've... this is a bit odd... but I kinda want to make films."
"Really? Wow."
"It's... it's just I don't think I'm good enough, I mean, I'd have to take media studies like you do, and get some sort of degree... but I haven't a chance."
"Sure you do... you take art, don't you?"
"Yeah, but..."
"Art is good, isn't film an art?"
"But actual school art is different, I mean, it's more research into other artists, we don't really do that many pieces ourselves..."
"But what you DO do is good. Like that painting you did of the highway, that was really good."
"You liked that? I didn't even know you'd seen it."
"Heh." Shelly replied, and smiled. "But... erm... what was I going to say now!..." She said, smiling more... "Ah yeah... paintings, well, film is very much like just a series of paintings shown over and over... you know, just glimpses into what's been going on. If you can put enough detail into one scene, then surely you could make thousands, all with the same attention, and turn it into a movie? Well, that's what I'd be saying to interviewers, anyway."
"Nah, I won't get an interview." Peter said.
"Why not?"
"Well... I just don't think I'm good enough. I just copied that highway painting, it's not as if I imagined it."
"Well, sure, but as long as you can represent what you're thinking, then you can surely do whatever you want to. Once you have the skill, you can look deeper into your own imagination."
Peter smiled... "There... well, there was one painting I did, that I'm really proud of... it's... it's like this landscape I did, with this waterfall rising... well, I'll have to show it to you."
She smiled.
"Uh? What?" Andrew said.
"Ah, hi Andrew."
"What are you going to show to my girlfriend?" He said, grinning.
"Heh, nothing, don't worry." Peter said, and grinned back. "I need the toliet, I'll be back soon."
"Yeah, like last time." Andrew said. "I won't wait up." And grinned again.
Just a small queue, but Peter didn't really need the toliet. He just needed to get away for a second, and think.
He flushed the chain, and walked back.
"How longs left now?"
"Two hours, and we'll be there." Andrew said, pointing to the statistics on the big screen at the front.
"Ah, good." Peter said. "I... I think I'll sleep the rest of the way."
-----------
"...giva..."
"What was that?" Peter asked.
"It sounded like the Captain." Shelly said, "He must have turned the radio on for a second accidently."
"This is your Captain speaking. We're experiencing some slight turbulence, so you are advised to return to your seats, and make sure your seatbelts are tightly fitted."
The light by the fans above switched on, just as the Captain said it would.
Peter made sure his seatbelt was attached, and helped Shelly with hers. Andrew was sleeping, so Shelly woke him up.
"You ok?" Shelly said.
"Huh? Why'd you wake me up?"
"The Captain said we're going to go through some turbulence, so we've got to put our seatbelts on."
"It's on. Nighty night, see you when we land." Andrew said, and curled over.
Simon had checked his seatbelt. He looked a bit worried.
"Simon, are you ok?"
He looked at Peter, smiled and nodded.
The plane began to rock slightly... and the lights dimmed.
And the whine, the whine that had given Peter such a bad headache, stopped.
"The whine's stopped. I think the engines have stopped." Peter said, quietly.
"Oh God."
"This is your Captain speaking. The air pressure has dropped slightly, it's nothing to worry about, but we will now ask you to breath oxygen from the masks that will drop down for your own comfort."
"Oh God." Shelly repeated.
Peter's head was silenced. Was the Captain lying? He'd heard so many stories... and perhaps the oxygen was just to calm us...
A flight attentant appeared at the front, holding a mask.
"Please, before checking your own mask, that your children's masks are placed properly. Make sure you take deep breaths."
The masks fell, and Peter grabbed his, watching Shelly put hers on. She woke Andrew, who swore with wide eyes, and pulled the mask down over his face. Simon was shaking.
Another attentant came up to Simon, and helped him put his mask on. He nodded, and it looked as if he was trying to smile.
The lights completely went, and only small lights that lined the paths between the seats remained.
Peter breathed irrationally, and Shelly grabbed his hand, and held it tight. He squeezed back.
"This is your Captain speaking. We are going to perform a landing in the sea, it will be wise at this point, to take off your masks, and take the lifejackets from under your seat, and put them on. Be sure not to inflate them while inside the plane."
Another attentant appeared, her hands shaking as she placed the jacket over her head, making the signals on how to inflate the jacket, and where the whistle was. A man inflated his jacket, and the attentant stopped what she was doing, and ran to help him.
Andrew hit his head on the seat reaching down for his jacket, knocking his drink over. He pulled out his jacket and frantically tried to unpackage it.
Simon still sat there, with his mask on.
"ANDREW! FOR CHRIST'S SAKE, HELP SIMON!" Peter shouted, trying to be heard above the crying and shouting.
He looked at Peter, then at Simon, who was still focused on the back of the seat in front of him. He took off Simon's mask, and reached under to get out his jacket.
Shelly gripped Peter's hand tighter. Andrew sat back down, and saw what was happening.
She took off her mask, tears streaming down her face. "...I've... I've always loved you, ever since we first met, even before I went out with Andrew, I've loved you. I love the way you talk, the way you think, I love your art, I love you, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..."
She fell into Peter, and wrapped her arms around him. "I... I, the same, I love... I really, really love..." And Peter started to cry, holding Shelly tighter, letting his mask dangle in the air. They met, and they kissed, eachothers tears running down eachothers face. Their lips touched, and he felt her cool skin next to his, calming him, telling him all that he knew... deep down...
Andrew started to shake, closed his eyes, and tried taking deep breathes.
An attentant grabbed Peter's arm. "PLEASE put your masks back on! PLEASE!" And started to cry. Someone was being sick into the aisle, and the vomit was running down towards her feet.
"Go sit down! Make sure you're safe!" Peter said to the attentant, and put Shelly's mask back on. The attendant nodded, and ran back to the front to put her seatbelt on.
Peter put his own mask on, and took one deep breath. He hugged Shelly.
BAM
"We're here, Peter." Shelly said. "We're here."
Peter blinked. Everyone was smiling, looking out of the windows. The Captain's voice came over the radio.
"I thank you for a pleasant flight, and hope you fly British Air again. You shall be shown..."
"What, we landed?"
"Yeah." Shelly said, and picked up on his tone of voice.
"It's just I had a really odd dream..."
"Don't worry, we're here now." She said, and smiled. She turned over, and woke up Andrew.
Peter looked up and down the aisle. No sick. No cups, no drinks. Just people getting up, to leave the plane, some moaning about hating flying.
An attendant appeared. "Can you sit down for the moment please, and wait until the plane has come to a complete stop!"
The people who had stood looked around at the others, and made their way back to their seats.
Apart from Peter, who rushed up to be sick again. He moved his hand away from his mouth quickly to signal to the attentant, who winced.
-------------
"Hey, Peter? You ok now?" Andrew said, grinning. "You're the last one off."
"Yeah, I know." He said, and smiled. Simon had bought him a drink, and gave it to him. Shelly had picked up his Times, and gave that to him too.
"Hey, thanks Simon. Thanks Shelly, I'd forgotten about that."
"You know, I could do with a quick leak..." Andrew said. "I'll be back soon, don't go anywhere." He left for the toliets, and Simon shook his head, and walked off to the newsagent. Peter smiled.
"What did you dream about?" Shelly said.
Peter woke. "Err... it wasn't nice, I dreamt the plane crashed."
"Oh Christ, that's not nice... are you ok?"
"Yeah, now... but..."
"Yeah?"
"Doesn't matter. Are you ok now?"
"Yeah, just glad to get my feet back on solid ground." She said. "You're probably glad too, huh?" She smiled.
"Yeah, just the bus ride to go, but I can cope with that."
"Peter?"
Peter's heart skipped a beat to hear his name. He breathed, and said "Yes?"
"Did you dream anything else?"
He looked at the floor. He took another breath. "Yes. I dreamt you kissed me, when you realised you were going to die."
"Oh. That's funny." Shelly said, and Peter smiled, letting go. "Because I did kiss you. When you were sleeping."
She smiled at him, blinked, and began to walk over to where Simon was sitting, reading a magazine.
Peter stopped and thought. He called to Shelly the only thing that came into his head. "Didn't my breath smell of sick?"
She turned around, smiled, and laughed, and turned away and walked towards Simon. He looked up, looking at Peter as if to question him.
Peter just smiled and shook his head. He looked at the floor.