While I Was Shopping: Part 18

The airport was busy, the queues were throbbing and the guys looked at each other and grimaced. How were they ever going to get through everything in time?
 
Eric rubbed his temples with a forefinger and thumb and cursed his bad choice in taxi. None of them had wanted to risk leaving their cars in the airport car park and so a taxi had seemed ideal. Until they had all piled in to find that the driver could speak very little English and then had gotten lost. Half an hour later John had removed the driver to the back seat and had driven the taxi himself, and then refused to pay the bill. At which point the driver had threatened him with a small flick knife.
 
But there had been some compromise. John had paid half, after bashing the driver in the nose.
 
And now here they were, half an hour late and one man down. Well, one woman actually, but she was more like one of the guys than one of the gals.
 
John fingered his passport as he gazed over people’s heads, the rest of the guys falling over their own luggage and bickering with each other over whose bag it was that tripped them.
 
He spotted her before she spotted him, her eyes darting around the airport and towards the departure gate. She looked fantastic, her hair pulled up in a ponytail, her blue top showing off her shoulders and a flowery skirt flaring out beneath her. She looked a little pale, and when she turned her head to face him he could see darkness about her eyes, as though she hadn’t had a lot of sleep, but he could see she was fine when she waved her hand gently and smiled. The darkness disappeared and her face flushed with red excitement.
 
“I see her.” He said and the group began gathering their things and following John in the melee of people dashing around.
 
Michael held tightly onto his suitcase. Did he really want to see her again? Even after two years he had thought always of her, of what she was doing, of how she had carried on with her life. When he had told Terry that he was over her now, he had been lying. How could he be over someone who consumed his waking moments, and then his dreams?
 
“Are you ok?” whispered Terry as they followed behind the others. He had noticed Michael hang back from them, and he came up beside his friend.
 
“I’m fine Terry. Why wouldn’t I be?”
  Terry examined Michael’s face, and knew he was lying, but he wasn’t going to say anything. He didn’t want to upset his best friend, anymore than he wanted him to feel uncomfortable.
 
They exited the throng of people into a small space whereupon they dropped their bags and looked at the woman sat on her suitcase in front of them.
 
She looked at them, and they looked at her, and for a moment she thought that this was a horrible joke and that they weren’t really going to take her to America with them.
 
And then Graham reached out, took her hand and hugged her tightly to him. She felt her nervousness drift a little from her as sporadic hugs were given and the guys prodded her with questions.
 
They boarded the plane and Michael, sat with Terry and Graham, found himself directly behind Chelsea, who was sat with Eric, John and Gilliam. He found himself staring into the back of her head, willing her to turn around and face him, but she didn’t and he stared out of the window and watched the land disappear below him. People began to wander around the airplane, and drinks were being served and everyone was chatting excitedly, happily, merrily. He could hear her voice as she chatted quietly to Eric, who asked her questions about things that she was doing, what she had done, where she was living and so on.
 
 He listened to the conversation as it drifted from subject to subject, until finally Eric broached the question of Ed. Michael felt his heart squeeze when Eric said his name and he saw Chelsea look out of her window onto the bright sunny land disappearing below them.
 
 The airplane was noisy and Michael pretended to be reading his book, and he cast a subtle glance towards his friends, but Terry’s mouth was open and he was breathing deeply and Graham was fingering the pages of his in-flight magazine.
 
 “Chelsea?” Eric asked softly.
 
“Ed’s fine.” She said, but kept her head towards the window.
 
“Is he still a farmer?” Eric asked.
 
“I believe so.” She said shortly.
 
“What do you mean you believe so? Don’t you know?”
 
She looked back towards Eric and Michael strained to hear her voice.
 
“Of course Ed is still a farmer.” She said and Michael felt his heart sink. She was still with Ed. She hadn’t had a change of heart and left him. She hadn’t felt so torn by her love for Michael that they had decided to split up. Michael shook his head at himself. Why would he wish something so horrible on someone he loved so much?
 
“What does he think of you coming out to America? Didn’t he want to come too?”
 
Chelsea shrugged. “We didn’t really discuss it.” She said and was interrupted by the airhostess and an offer of drinks.
 
Michael waited patiently for the conversation to resume but when it did Eric started gabbing about a book he was planning on writing one day. He wondered why Ed hadn’t wanted to come as well. Maybe he had too much to do on the farm. Maybe he didn’t want to deal with seeing Michael. Maybe Chelsea hadn’t wanted him there. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
 
Michael took a swig of his brandy and plugged in his headphones, and looked at the world below him as it disappeared.

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America looked out at them with glorious rain clouds hanging overhead. Hardly the spectacular land Gilliam had described to them in excited spurts of enthusiasm as they sailed over the ocean. The rain fell straight down and danced on the pavement. The wind picked up specks of rainwater and threw it into John’s face as he ventured out from underneath the canopy of the airport. He quickly stepped back under and wiped his nose with a finger.
 
 “Almost like home, only this water’s warm.” He said and grinned.
 
Terry glanced at his watch. “What time did that PA woman say she’d be here? I swear we agreed five.”
 
“It’s only 4:30 Terry, calm down.” Gilliam waved him away.
 
Terry looked down at his watch again. “But mine says 5:30!”
 
Chelsea grabbed his arm and smiled softly. “You’ve set it an hour too far.”
 
Terry looked sheepish and a red haze crept about his cheeks. “Well I blame Graham.”
 
“Don’t look at me.” Graham said as he sat on his suitcase. “I don’t know anything about your watch.”
 
“Precisely.” Michael said quietly.
 
“Look let’s stop arguing and just chill out.” Eric said with a grin. “We’ve made it to America guys! Aren’t you excited by this?”
 
They all looked up at him and with a moment of comic timing, they shook their heads, before bursting into smiles.
 
“Who’s this PA anyway?” asked John inquisitively.
 
“Her name’s Annabel Price. I’ve only spoken to her over the phone. She’s perfectly charming.” Terry said vaguely.
 
“What’s she going to do for us?” Eric asked.
 
 “She’s the Bowl’s PA. She’s in charge of all the promotions and what not. I don’t really know the intricate details, but I know that she’s bringing us a tour bus to take us to our hotel and that she’s the one who’s going to pack out our shows. So I don’t really need to know more.”
 
 “Annabel Price.” Eric said under his breath. He liked the sound of the name, it was a completed name, and had something of a wholeness about it.
 
“Don’t even think about it Idle.” John said casting him a sideways glance.
 
“What?” Eric asked, his eyes wide and innocent.
 
“You know what I mean.”
 
There was silence for a few moments as they all looked out onto the streets ahead, the cars, the yellow taxi’s, the people, all somehow American and different looking from British people. Eric liked the feel of this place, like a land of untapped opportunity. He smiled to himself to think of the prospects that awaited him here.
 
Terry looked at the buildings in the distance, the tall skyscrapers that seemed to touch heaven. He saw the people and smelt the smells of America and felt as though he belonged somewhere entirely different.
 
Graham and John looked from each other and felt the same as they did when they saw Britain. No new place held much mystery or excitement for them, because neither of them had ever really felt they belonged on planet earth, let alone in a particular country.
 
And Michael smelt the new earth and felt a stirring of something within himself. It was a mixture of excitement, adventure, and the need to move, to see, to explore. He wanted to know things about America, and he scratched his palms to ease the need to get up and go. He glanced around the group until his gaze landed on Chelsea, whose eyes were glistening and whose face was tilted upwards towards the sky. She closed her eyes slowly and Michael watched as she sighed, and opened them again. She glanced down at her hands clutched together on her lap, and then directly into his eyes.
 
And there was electric in that moment, as they sat at opposite ends of the group, the rain pouring down and throwing up the smell of wet, humid concrete. Michael felt all of the old feelings begin to rise within him as he stared into her beautiful face, and he wondered how she was feeling inside. Her face didn’t move and she betrayed nothing of her emotions as she sat under the canopy, her hands still neatly in her lap. And he felt sad. Sad that he had let a love so good disappear before his eyes. She had obviously pushed aside any real feelings for him in the last couple of years. Her gaze said it all to him. She was distant, even a little glazed. He felt his heart squeeze, but hadn’t he prepared himself for this all along? Hadn’t he secretly told himself that she would have gotten over him and moved on? Of course he had, but he had never actually believed she would have.
 
There was a roar to the left of him and a huge bus, slim lined and electric green, pulled up beside them, throwing puddles of water over the pavement edge. There was a swishing noise as the door slid over the side of the bus and a smell of coffee, bagels and perfume wafted over them as they sat, cold and strangely dejected, on the airport pavement.
 
And then appeared two legs, legs in a pair of black stilettos that were tanned, smooth and long, and seemed to go on for miles. Eventually the legs gave way to a pink skirt that arrived just above the knees. Around the woman’s tiny waist was what seemed like a sash. Her stomach was revealed and showed off toned muscles, which led to a crop top that contained just the right amount of cleavage. Her hands were slender with painted pink nails and her arms weren’t muscular but were toned and led to a graceful neck and shoulders that were tanned.
 
The entire group held their breath as the head of this woman was revealed. Her long, wavy, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back to just beneath her bra line. Her mouth was a perfect shape, coloured slightly with a red lipstick. Her cheekbones were high, her eyes bright blue and glittery, and highlighted by faint mascara and eyeliner.
 
Chelsea looked over this woman and felt the amount of testosterone increase by at least 1000%. She was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, and she looked over the group with a quick and intelligent eye. Smart and beautiful; how could Chelsea possibly compete?
 
“Hello boys.” She said with a husky American accent. She glanced towards Chelsea. “Oh, and girl I see.” She smiled at her and Chelsea realised that for all of her beauty, she might actually be genuine. The smile had been natural and she had certainly not been sarcastic when she had mentioned Chelsea’s part in the group.
 
“I’m Annabel Price and I will be your PA for the next six to eight weeks.” She smiled warmly and Chelsea felt herself warm towards her.
 
Terry stood up and shook hands with her. “I’m Terry, the one who’s been pestering you for the last four months?” He chuckled awkwardly.
 
“Oh yes, Terry, hello. Nice to put a face to the voice.” Annabel smiled again.
 
Terry turned to the rest of the group. “This is Eric, Chelsea, John, Graham, Gilliam and Michael.” He said and the group said their hellos.
 
“I suppose we should get your things loaded onto the bus and deliver you to your hotel for the evening. Trust me you might want to stay in the next couple of days, the jet lag will hit you pretty hard otherwise.”
 
And so the group did as they were told, and put all of their bags in the baggage compartment of the bus before clambering on, some more eager to sit near Annabel than others, and headed patiently off to their hotel.
 
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Chelsea threw her bags onto the bed and glanced around. This room was huge, big enough for two people alone. There was a seating area, a small kitchen, a large bathroom complete with what could only be described as a mini swimming pool and a huge walk in dressing area.
 
The New York skyline was fantastic in the early evening night, and she walked steadily towards the balcony, pushing open the doors and heading out to gaze about her. The rain had ceased and the wind had died down, and some of the dark clouds had swapped their colours for reds and browns, as the sun began to set behind a mountain of buildings, tall, intimidating buildings that stood out above all others. She stepped back inside and drew the curtains.
 
She smiled to herself as she saw the double bed. It looked warm and inviting, and after dragging herself out of bed at 6am for the flight, and finding that time had somehow rewound since then, she felt as though she had been hit by a sledgehammer.
 
She fumbled with the catches on her suitcase before finally giving up and pushing her bags to the floor and settled on top of the duvet. The bed was soft, comfortable, and smelt of freshly washed linen. The sheets were smooth and as soon as her head touched the pillow she was sleeping soundly, and didn’t even hear the door to her room open.

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There was mumbling. Low mumbling and the sound of zips and more agitated mumbling.
 
Chelsea glanced at her watch and saw the time was now 1am. She had slept for nearly 7 hours, and no one had woken her for dinner. She didn’t even know where the others were staying. She wondered briefly if they still did room service at 1 in the morning as she pulled herself up from the bed and stretched, yawned and then glanced around.
 
“Evening.” Eric said and she almost shot out of her skin.
 
“Eric! What the hell are you doing in my room?”
 
Eric, who waved her to be quiet for the moment as he finished his telephone call, was wearing only his boxer shorts and Chelsea changed the direction of her gaze, and suddenly began worrying that something terrible had happened last night. Perhaps she’d been drugged and couldn’t remember. But wait, she would never sleep with Eric Idle, never. And yet, here he was.
 
“Right let me explain.” He said as he placed the phone back in its cradle. “There was a cock up, a diabolical one if you ask me too.” He ruffled his hair with one hand and gestured with the other.
 
“Annabel only booked enough rooms for six, and all the others are full. We are, after all, in America for the busiest time of year. So the only option was to share, and yours, being the biggest suite and all, and, well, we drew straws.”
 
Chelsea nodded. Typical Python moment. She would now have to spend her entire time in America sharing with Monty Python’s biggest love rat.
 
“So the plan is…?” she asked and he cocked his head.
 
“I don’t understand.”
 
“Well where do you intend on sleeping Mr Idle?”
 
He smiled broadly and pointed towards the bed. “With you obviously.”
 
Her jaw dropped and she shook her head. “That is NOT happening Eric.”
 
“What is it?” he asked, casting her a playful look, “You’ll only sleep with the nice Python?”
 
Chelsea felt her face flush and she looked at him straight. “That’s not fair Eric.”
 
He waved his arms at her and laughed gently. “I’m only kidding with you. I was just on the phone to room service to ask them for a camp bed.”
 
Chelsea felt her innards unwind and calm down. What was the whole issue anyway? Did she think that somehow, with Eric in her bed, she’d be tempted to sleep with him? She felt her stomach rumble and looked up at Eric ruefully.
 
“I don’t suppose you ordered any food with that bed did you?”
 
The bell to their room rang and Eric leapt up to answer it. Two suit clad gentlemen entered, one carrying what looked like a luxury camp bed and the other was pushing a trolley laden with food.
 
As Eric tipped them and shut the door, Chelsea crept closer to the trolley. She looked up and grinned.
 
“I think I’ll like having you as a room mate!”