Chapter 18

I had a moment of panic when I heard the engaged tone from Cal’s mobile, but I wasn’t going to give in to it. This time while we’d been apart, we’d actually managed to speak to each other every day, and I knew now that Charlie was regularly in touch with both Cal and her mother. I’m sure I would have heard if anything bad had happened. I made my way back to the taxi rank and joined the queue.

While I stood there, my phone rang, I took it out and saw from the caller ID that it was Cal.

“Hi,” I said, “I just tried to ring you.”

“Yes, I know, that’s why I’m ringing you back. I was talking to Charlie.”

I let out a sigh of relief.

“What did you talk about?” I asked.

“What we normally talk about silly,” she answered, “you.”

“What about me?” I asked.

“How you’re wonderful, kind, loving, generous, and that you’ve got something to tell me.”

“You missed out handsome, witty and intelligent,” I pointed out.

She was silent for a moment.

“No,” she replied, “I don’t remember us mentioning those three. So, what’s this thing you have to tell me?”

“I’ll tell you when I see you in Munich, the day after tomorrow” I answered.

“But I want to know now, I’m intrigued,” she whined.

“No, in Munich,” I responded, “you’ll just have to wait.”

“You’re a meanie,” she pouted, “but I love you. And why the day after tomorrow?”

“Because it’s an overnight flight. I leave here at six-thirty tomorrow afternoon and arrive in Munich about ten-thirty the following morning. There aren’t any direct flights available.”

“Then I’ll be at the airport to meet you,” she said, “in a way that’s better, since that will be Saturday, and I don’t have to be in the Hochschule. And we have two whole days to get reacquainted.”

“Reacquainted?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied, “very. Now, what was it that you were going to tell me?”

I chuckled.

“Nice try love,” I replied, “but you’ll have to wait.”

“I hate you,” she mumbled.

“How much?” I asked.

“You’ll have to wait,” she said.

Hoist with my own petard.

The next taxi drew up, and I found that I was at the front of the queue.

“My taxi’s here,” I said, “I’ll have to go. I’ll ring you tomorrow once I’ve checked in.”

“All right, sweetie,” she replied, “speak to you then. Be good.”

“You too, Love,” I replied, “bye.”

She said goodbye and I got into the taxi and gave the driver the name of my hotel.

I now had twenty-four hours to kill in a city I didn’t really know. I opted for the easy way out, a night in my hotel room with my book.

I was up early the following morning, I think the excitement of seeing Cal the day after was stopping me sleeping, so, after a shower, I had an early breakfast and packed my bag ready for departure. Then I had seven hours to kill before I needed to be at the airport.

When I deposited my bag in the hotel luggage room, I asked the receptionist for suggestions for how to kill a few hours in Toronto.

I decided on the CN Tower, lunch in the restaurant there, and then the Aquarium. It was all very expensive compared to what I’d been used to spending, but I had an expense allowance from the studio, that made it not too bad. The views over the city and the lake from the viewing platform were spectacular, and the food was good. The aquarium? Well, it was an aquarium. At two-thirty I headed back to the hotel, retrieved my luggage and asked the receptionist to ring for a taxi to the airport.

“There’s no need, Mr Barker,” she explained, “we have a shuttle bus that will take you. If you’d like to take a seat, I’ll get it for you. What flight are you on?”

“Six-thirty five Air Canada to Heathrow,” I replied.

“Very good sir, just take a seat, it won’t take long.”

Fifteen minutes later, a uniformed chauffeur approached my seat and coughed quietly.

“Mr Barker?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied, “that’s me.”

“Good afternoon, sir,” he answered, “if you’d like to come this way, I’ll take you to the airport. Terminal one, I believe.”

“Just sit back and relax,” the driver, who had introduced himself as Sam, said, after helping me into the vehicle. “The journey time will be a little over an hour, the traffic is pretty heavy at the moment. Would you care for some music?”

“Thank you,” I said, “do you have something operatic?”

“Mozart, The Magic Flute?” he suggested.

“That would be fine, thank you.”

He pressed some buttons on his console and the bus was filled with the sounds of Mozart’s overture.

It actually took nearly an hour and a half to get to the airport. Sam dropped me off, lifted my bags out of the car, then argued with me when I tried to tip him. I finally persuaded him to take the twenty dollars when I pointed out that taxi fare would have cost me a lot more than that.

He thanked me, went and got me a trolley and then got back in the bus and drove off.

I pushed my trolley inside and joined the queue to check-in. Fortunately, because I had a first-class ticket, I had a priority queue, and as there were only twelve seats in first, there was only one person in front of me.

He, however, was dressed like he was attending a board meeting, rather then facing a seven-hour flight, and gave me a decidedly scornful look as I lined up behind him.

“You do realise that this is the first-class check-in desk young man?” he said.

“Yes,” I replied with a smile, “thank you, I’m relieved, I managed to find the right queue.”

He just grunted and, when the check-in person called him forward took his place at the counter.

“Good morning Mr Barker,” the girl behind the counter greeted as she looked at my booking confirmation a few minutes later, “how are you this morning?”

“Very well thank you,” I replied, as she looked at me for the first time.

“Oh,” she exclaimed, “you’re that David J Barker. I saw you on TV last night. You were with that English actress.”

“Charlie Hudson,” I prompted.

“That’s right, you made such a cute couple sat on the couch together,” she continued, “where are you travelling to today?”

“Ultimately Munich,” I said.

She checked my documents, weighed my suitcase and sent it on its way through the baggage system, then printed my boarding card, stuck my baggage check ticket to the back of my passport and wished me a pleasant journey, I thanked her and set off through security.

As is usual, the first thing I found after security was duty-free. It occurred to me that it might be a positive move to arrive in Munich with a present for my girlfriend, so I had a good look round and chose two. One was a Chanel No. 5 gift set, and the other was a cute cuddly rabbit. I took them to the counter and presented my card. Five minutes later, I was entering the VIP lounge, where the first person I saw was the snooty guy from check-in.

I took a seat as far from him as I could, got myself a cup of coffee, and a few biscuits from the buffet, and picked a national geographic magazine out of the rack on the wall.

I had an hour and a half before my flight was due to leave, and the doorkeeper at the lounge had assured me, that he would let me know in time to get to the gate, which, in any case was just next door, in time for priority boarding.

When it came to time for boarding, I was surprised to find that I was the only passenger in first. My dear friend from the check-in desk wasn’t on this flight. I stowed my bag in the locker, handed my jacket to the flight attendant, an attractive blonde named Casey according to her name-badge, and took my seat, buckling up my seat belt and settling back. There was a video screen in my seat arm, and also a large screen at the front of the cabin.

I’d sat there for about ten minutes, idly leafing through the in-flight magazine, when a man of about thirty-five approached me with a tray in his hands. According to his name badge, he was Roger.

“Drink before take-off, Mr Barker?” he asked.

“Thank you, what do you have?”

“Champagne, Bucks Fizz, orange juice, Pepsi, we have beer if you prefer,” he replied.

“Pepsi please,” I replied.

“Sure you wouldn’t like something stronger?” he asked.

“Thank you, but no,” I replied, “I can’t, not old enough.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” he answered.

He handed me a glass, opened a Pepsi can and poured the contents, then tactfully withdrew. After a couple more minutes, the welcome aboard announcement started, and, as we pushed back from the jetway, the safety film started on all the screens. Then the plane started its long roll to the head of the runway.

As we taxied, I took out my phone and texted Cal to let her know I was on the way, then turned the phone off for the duration of the journey.

The Captain came on the PA system as we taxied, or maybe it was the first officer, and did the usual announcement, letting us know that we’d be flying up the St Lawrence Seaway, then across the Atlantic, passing over the southern part of Ireland, then crossing the British coast over South Wales and following the M4 to Heathrow, where we were anticipating landing about twenty minutes early.

He finished just as the plane came to a halt to await its turn to take off, and after a couple of minutes, the plane turned onto the runway itself, and began to roll, accelerating quickly and then, with a surge, lifted into the sky. I was on my way home.

Ten minutes later the seatbelt sign pinged off, and the cabin crew announced that dinner service would start shortly, followed by the first movie of the night, which would be Science Fiction classic, Star Academy.

I groaned.

Casey came back to take my order for dinner, and while I was choosing, she knelt beside me.

“Mr Barker,” she began, “we on the cabin crew would like to ask a favour of you.”

“Casey,” I replied, “I only do favours for people who call me David, Mr Barker is my Dad.”

“David, would you be prepared to do a favour for us?”

“If I can,” I replied, “what is it?”

“There’s a young lady in Coach, who has been on holiday in Toronto. It was paid for by Starlighters, a children’s charity that specialises in sending life-limited children on special final holidays. She was very excited when she heard that the film was Star Academy. She says it’s her favourite film and that you’re her very favourite actor. Would you allow her to come up here and watch it with you?”