Snow Blind by Richard Blanchard Read Free Book Online Page B

still alive, but won’t see him for five days now. I see a vision of a pregnant church altar awaiting a wedding day couple, but it fades quickly.
    My world is in motion, bringing promise of pleasure and pain. Something’s coming, something good, is it my fate?
    The man in the centre seat next to me stands up and nudges my legs to allow his exit. I tut privately and judge him to have the bladder control of an incontinent ninety-five year old. I stay seated and twist my legs into the aisle.
    I smell her perfumed presence before I see her.
    â€œLet me in then,” Juliet nudges my knee, toppling my iPhone towards the floor. It dangles painfully from one ear.
    â€œThat’s awfully kind of you to move,” I hear her now and realise that this is her new seat arrangement.
    â€œI had an aisle seat way up at the front so I thought I would let that guy have it. I have never enjoyed flying as you know.” I could tell she was making this up.
    â€œThat’s great.” I am happy to give up my flight of solitude.
    Max is with Steve a few seats up on the left. Having returned Rubber Juliet to them I see her under-inflated head peeking from above their seats to boyish giggles.
    The pilot announces a ten-minute delay to access our runway slot. “While we wait I would just like to congratulate a Stag and Hen that are travelling with us today. Danny and Karen are both getting married next weekend, but not to each other!”
    I cringe again in the spotlight. “Danny is in 32C…” A toothy stewardess with a black bun approaches and pushes my reading light on and off. “Karen is in…” He tails off confused by her absence from the flight manifest.
    â€œLike fuck she is,” one of the brooding hens shouts towards the flight deck. The brooding Hens are all together on the right side of the plane. The announcement must be more of Robert’s work. He is out of sight knowing precisely its effect on both parties.
    â€œAnyway 32C is Danny’s bra size,” guffaws Steve from up ahead. I have never greeted an in-flight security briefing before; I use the distraction to sneak out of the knickers.
    At six minutes past three we are pinned to our seat backs and shoot up the runway: our journey commences, there is no way out. Flight anxiety causes Juliet’s left hand to press firmly on my right; I sense the familiar delicacy of each finger. She closes her eyes in prayer for the minutes that the plane climbs steeply. I freeze, not wanting to break this personal space. Does her hand hold anything other than friendship now?
    â€œI hope they just leave you alone now.” Juliet has emerged from her take-off trance. “I thought they were going to make you simulate sex with Juliet for a minute.” I blush and offer a confused grin until I realise she is talking about her rubber namesake. The prospect alarmingly attracts me; my balls stir a little.
    â€œHow is the advertising business?” I realise I have been mute since she sat down.
    â€œSo so, but I think it will get better soon. It’s funny; we are working on an airline account at the moment. It’s ByeFly, the budget airline. It’s not quite like flying with this BA lot though. Remember when we went to Madeira? They are really tough as a client. Max says they may review the account.” I am gushing. Madeira is an elephant I have let loose on the plane and it is sat on my lap.
    â€œWhy didn’t you return my calls all those years ago?”
    â€œI can’t remember now.” I remember exactly. I got a ripping feeling in my stomach at the thought of her. I was sure she had dumped me to go back with her ex-boyfriend so I just backed off. This precipitated a descent into hell for me. There was nothing I could do to bring us back.
    â€œWe never resolved anything; you know, made our peace.” I had resolved never to speak to her again in the bitterly cold days of early 1992. She handled it so