The Fall of Society (The Fall of Society Series, Book 1) (4 page)

           
“Jesus!”
Peter said irritated and looked at his bleeding arm.

           
“Sir,
this kind of behavior isn’t tolerated!” Mark said. “You need to restrain
yourself or I’ll be forced to call the air marshal that’s onboard, and he’ll
restrain you.”

           
Nick
wasn’t lucid as his eyes rolled in and out of their sockets; he couldn’t focus.
“I’m…sorry,” he said and then passed out.

           
“Are
you alright?” Mark asked Peter as he helped him up.

           
“Yeah,
I’m fine.”

           
Mark
pushed a button on Nick’s seat controls and a privacy screen closed him off
from view.

           
“I
need to inform the captain,” Mark said and walked off.

           
Although
the captain was a man in his fifties, he looked younger, good genes or hair
dye, maybe both. The copilot was a handsome man in his forties, a little on the
dashing side with his cute hair and blue eyes. The navigator, who sat behind
the two pilots, was a kid in his early thirties; though young he was a
professional, a little on the anal side. While it was daunting that their cockpit
windows offered nothing but ocean and a darkening sky, this was a routine
flight for them.

           
The
copilot had an incredulous look on his face. “You had a one night stand with a
girl that looked like who?” he said to the navigator.

           
“You
heard me,” he answered proudly.

           
“The
adult film star?” the captain questioned.

           
“Yes,
she looked just like her, and I shagged her proper.”

           
“Are
you sure that it actually wasn’t the porn star?” the copilot said with a grin.
“I’m only asking because I know some of the places where you like to have a
pint—very seedy establishments with questionable staff.”

           
“Jealousy
doesn’t look good on you, my friend,” the navigator said.

           
“Jealousy?
You obviously haven’t met my wife; she’s currently on the floor serving our
passengers. Is she prettier than my wife?”

           
The
navigator got the point. “No, your Suzanne is quite lovely.”

           
“Thank
you,” the copilot said satisfied.

           
The
cockpit doorbell chimed, and they saw that it was Mark at their door on the
monitor, so the navigator let him in.

           
“Hello,
Mark,” the navigator said.

           
Mark
nodded. “Captain, we have a small situation with a passenger in first class.”

           
“Oh?
What’s the problem?”

           
“He
may have had a little too much to drink; he raised his voice and grabbed Peter
by the arm, but I think that he may be sick.”

           
“Anything
serious?” the captain asked.

           
“No,
sir, could be flu, I’m not sure.”

           
“And
how is he now?” the copilot asked.

           
“He
passed out.”

           
The
captain wasn’t too concerned. “Very well; do you know who the air marshal is on
this flight?”

           
“Yes,
sir, but I don’t think we’ll be needing his services,” Mark answered.

           
“As
long as you know who he is, you can get him, if needed.”

           
“Thank
you, sir,” Mark said and left.

           
The
navigator looked to the captain. “Should we call in the drunk passenger to London
Control, Captain?”

           
“No,
Son, no need to bother them when they’re probably more drunk than he is,” the
captain joked.

• • •

           
Two
days before, the international terminal of London’s Heathrow Airport was
bustling with people as they darted back and forth in the rat race.

           
Sans
two people.

           
A
man and a woman stood facing one another in the middle of it. The man was Paul Hubber,
and he had a backpack over his shoulder. The girl was a beautiful redhead in
her twenties, and all she carried was her purse. She wasn’t going anywhere, because
they were about to say a sad goodbye. “Will you call me when you land in Los
Angeles?” she asked.

           
“Of
course I will, Katie, but it will be late.”

           
“I
don’t care.”

           
“Okay.”

           
A
moment of silence, then—

           
“I’ll
miss you,” she said with big, glossy eyes.

           
Paul
was silent. “Katie…”

           
“I
know,” she said and her tear ducts were going to betray her at any moment.

           
“I
can’t let this job get away, it’s a great opportunity,” he said.

           
“I
know.”

           
“I’m
not sure when I’ll be back.”

           
“I
could wait.”

           
“For
a year or more? No, that wouldn’t be fair to you or me.”

           
“I
love you, Paul.”

           
She
wasn’t making it easy for him, but he couldn’t deny what he felt for her. It
was true what he said about the job: It was an opportunity that he couldn’t
pass on, and he was willing to give her up for it. “You know that I love you,
too, Katie, but this job…it’s…”

           
“I
understand. Just don’t forget how much I love you.

           
“I
won’t.”

           
Tears
welled in her big green eyes. “I’ll wait for you.” She kissed him on the cheek
and walked away.

           
“Katie?”

           
She
disappeared among the slivers of moving people.

           
“Damn
it,” he muttered.

           
Paul
was one of the last passengers to board; the plane was almost full as he placed
his backpack in the overhead compartment and took his seat in the center aisle.
He couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Am I
doing the right thing?
he wondered.

           
The
plane’s engines began to spool up, signaling that they were departing soon.

           
Paul
loved Katie, that much was true, but in the current economy, he really needed
this job, even if the starting salary was low. The experience he’d gain would
be invaluable, but what about Katie? Before he got on the plane, it didn’t seem
too difficult of a decision, but now that it was solidified, it was different.
He looked at the plane’s door that he’d entered, it was still open as a
stewardess greeted boarding passengers, but now they were few and far between. He
sat back and tried to relax. “You need this job,” he whispered to himself.

           
He
heard her memory—

           
I love you, Paul.

           
—The plane’s engines grew louder…

           
Paul’s
cell phone chimed. He pulled it out of his coat pocket and checked the screen;
it was a text message from Katie. He read it casually. His eyes tightened as he
read it again and he absorbed each word carefully, slowly—

           
Paul, I didn’t tell you this because I
didn’t want you to think that I was trying to keep you here. I’m pregnant. I
just found out two days ago. I’m going to keep it. Hopefully, one day we can
talk about whether or not you want to be in your child’s life. Take care of yourself.
Katie.

           
He was sideswiped; his face was in bewilderment
as he came to grips with her message. And then he accepted it. He finally smiled
slightly. This was good news that he welcomed and suddenly he forgot about his
new job, but he had forgotten where he was as well. He snapped out of it and
got out of his seat. “Excuse me, so sorry,” he said as he squished by two
passengers at a quick pace.

           
He
hurried for the door, but then stopped abruptly—his backpack. “Bollocks,”
he said then turned around, grabbed his backpack from the compartment, and
headed back for the door.

           
The
flight attendant had just closed it and locked it into place.

           
He
knew that they wouldn’t open it unless someone was dying.

           
He
sighed and closed his eyes. “Bloody hell.”

• • •

           
Paul
opened his eyes from the memory and found himself in his window seat on the Airbus
bound for London. He was anxious to get home and talk with Katie about the
future, about their future
together
.
Upon arriving in L.A., Paul got on the first flight he could catch back to
London. He decided not to call Katie because he wanted to talk to her face to
face, even though he had no idea what he was going to say.

           
“So,
were you in L.A. for business or pleasure?” George asked.

           
“What?
Sorry, my mind’s elsewhere.”

           
“I
can tell, were you in L.A. for business or pleasure?”

           
“Oh,
business.”

           
“What
line of work you in?”

           
“I’m
an architect, I was actually in Los Angeles to start a new job.”

           
“The
job’s over now?”

           
“No,
I never started.”

           
George
was confused. “Why?”

           
“There’s
something that I need to take care of back in London.”

           
“It’s
a girl, isn’t it?”

           
“Yes,
actually, it is.”

           
George
smiled. “It’s always a girl.”

           
Peter
leaned against a wall in the flight attendant station, his forearm that Nick
cut with his dirty nails was bandaged, but he didn’t look good. He sweated a
lot and was wobbly on his feet, which was why he braced the wall to keep his
balance.

           
“Are
you alright, Peter?” Karen asked.

           
“I
don’t know…I feel lightheaded.”

           
“Would
you like me to get you some aspirin?”

           
“I
already took some, thank you.”

           
“Then
perhaps you should sit down for a bit?”

           
“I
think you’re right; would you let Mark know?”

           
“Sure
thing, go have a rest, we’ll be fine without you for a time.”

           
“Thanks,
Karen,” Peter said and left.

           
He
walked slowly down the stairs, holding the handrail as he went down to the
economy class section. He was about to proceed to the rear of the plane when
Jeffrey called to him. “Excuse me, mate, can you get two more beers for us,
please?”

           
“I’m
sorry, sir, but I don’t work in this section, I’ll send a flight attendant to
take your order.”

           
“I
don’t want to place an order, I just want two beers, how difficult is that?”
Jeffrey said.

           
“She’ll
be right over,” Peter said and kept going, grabbing headrests for support as he
went.

           
“If
he doesn’t work in this section, then why is he going to the back of the
plane?” Jeffrey asked.

           
“I
don’t know,” Richard answered.

           
Peter
continued to the back of the plane, but he didn’t pass on the beer order to any
of the other attendants that he walked by. He was desperate to get off his feet
as he passed George and Paul.