First flight out

Who was she? Her mind drifted, until she couldn’t remember her own question. Her heart thumped and a tingling sensation spread throughout her limp body. What had happened to her? And where was she? She appeared to be inside a giant kaleidescope, a mesh of colours flowing back and forth in attractive patterns. Gradually, the swirling slowed and a face took shape. Was she having a divine vision?

A muffled “Ariana” echoed repeatedly in an Italian accent. ‘Ariana’? She squinted at the man. Calvino, her husband. A rush of memories hit her. “My baby!” croaked Ariana, her hands embracing her blurred belly as she jolted forward.

“He’s fine,” said Cal.

“How do you know?” asked Ariana, groggy.

“He’s been busy.”

On cue, Ariana felt their Son shuffle position. Her body relaxed and she slumped back. Gradually, her pulse returned to normal, her vision sharpened into focus and feeling returned to her body. She had no memory of sitting down in this sofa armchair. “How did I get here?”

Cal leaned forward and placed a cold, wet cloth on her forehead. “You collapsed.”

“Collapsed?”

“Drammatico.”

“The Prime Minister,” Ariana recalled.

“You had a good chat,” said Cal, almost amused. “How you feeling? Anything I can do?” He placed his free hand on top of hers.

“I’m… I’m okay. What are we going to do, Cal?” Tears ran down her cheeks. “I’m scared.”

“I know, I know. Lets go home.”

“To our flat?”

“Yes,” he said, smiling reassuringly.

Ariana looked out of the large window in-front of her. People darted along the pavement in both directions, even faster and more focused than on your average day. “That’s what they’re doing.”

Cal turned around momentarily, before looking into her eyes and squeezing her hand. “Esattamente.”

“They’re going home to lock the doors and hope it will pass, or that it will feel better in the morning. But it won’t, Cal. This isn’t going to blow over. This is only the beginning.”

“You over-react, people behave as if it any other day.”

“In what way?”

“Out there, people commute. In here, they drink, chat, laugh. Nothing has changed.”

Ariana glanced over her shoulder and saw men and women packed into the cafe. She'd somehow been ignorant of her location and the loud chattering. Turning back to Cal, she said, “Isn't that odd? Despite everything, they’ve found time for a relaxed cup of coffee.”

“It is better they carry on as normal, no?”

“Is it better to pretend?”

“Laws are man-made. Nature has no laws. The Prime Minister said he trust in moral principles. I think he right. Human nature is good.”

“Do you really believe that? As a reporter, the stuff I’ve seen. Unimaginable acts, committed by everyday people. You’ve seen it too.”

“You were inconscio… chaos, everywhere. People run, no ambulance, I alone. But, a Poliziotto, and a stranger, they helped. Without them…” Cal shrugged his shoulders. “I could not have brought you here. Not carrying the bags.” Cal pointed to the silver camera flight case, large black tripod case and black shoulder holdall.

They both flinched as a cup smashed behind them. Red juice was splattered all over the floor in an almighty mess. “I told you, don’t spill any more drinks!” a Mother said to her little boy, who began wailing. “Sorry,” the woman said to the teenage girl serving. “Can we order another please?” The girl rolled her eyes and Ariana and Cal turned away.

“Look, it’s great they helped you,” said Ariana, “But one good Samaritan-”

“Two.”

“Two good Samaritans are not indicative of society as a whole. You just need one bad apple.”

“Bad apple?” asked Cal, confused.

“Bad behaviour is contagious. Even with the best will in the world, people won't be able to help themselves. Power corrupts. Complete freedom is the ultimate power.”

“It is power?” Cal pulled the most disbelieving face.

“Is it power? Come on, Cal. We now have the choice whether to… whether to pay for coffee.” Ariana indicated to those in the cafe. “Whether to go to work.” She pointed outside to those heading home early. “What else? Whether to steal a car, rob a bank, attack someone, take a life…”

“I do not think so. Back in Italy, sure, people go wild. Here, no. The English, they reserved, ruled by routine, by obligation.”

“Do you think the poor aren’t going to take what they can? That those treated unjustly won’t seek justice for themselves? They'll be total disorder. And that's before you take true evil into account.”

“What you saying, Ari?”

Ariana bit her nails and her mind searched for an answer.

“There will be no hiding place, not in this country.”

“What can we do?”

“Leave.”

“Leave?”

“We need to leave the country.”

“What of our jobs?”

“Will we still have one?”

“Naturalmente.”

“Cal, I can’t have a baby here. Seriously, is this a society you want your Son born into? A society you want him to grow up in?”

Cal pulled away, removing the soggy cloth from her head. “No, no,” he said, shaking his head vigorously. “This is our home. I will not run. It will not be like you say. Good will prevail over evil.”

“It may well. But evil will have its day first.”

Cal stood, his usual cheerful face turned solemn. “I’ll give cloth back.”

“Okay.”

Cal walked past Ariana, heading towards the counter. She stared out through the passing traffic to the Houses of Parliament on the other side of the road, surrounded by a line of Police Officers. How long before trouble came to those doors? Ariana looked up at Big Ben towering above.

Nearly 4.10pm. So much had happened in the last hour that it made her head spin. The World had been turned upside down.

“Ridicolo!” Cal shouted. Ariana turned around to see him throwing his arms in the air. “We not buy anything.”

“We're busy. You've taken up space,” said the pouting waitress.

“You have space charge?” Cal leaned on the counter and looked up at the board on the wall. “Where, where on the menu?”

“You owe ten pounds for the hire of the seat, cloth and water.”

“Hire?” Cal turned to Ariana. “You believe this?”

Cal would normally let this go, but he was flustered and het up. Ariana pushed herself up and began to waddle over.

“This is a business, not a hospice,” said the blond girl.

“Hospice? We not come here to die. Although you make me wish I had.”

The girl slammed down a silver shaking cup on the counter and everyone in the cafe took notice. Ariana stopped a few feet away.

The tall boy standing next to the girl said, “Please pay what you owe.”

“You right, I pay what I owe.” Cal placed his hand next to the cloth on the counter top. “You say ten?”

“Yes,” said the moody girl.

Cal smiled sweetly and then counted out ten pretend coins. “One more for the perfetto service. We good?”

There was unease in the cafe, the only sound that of people and traffic outside.

The girl suddenly threw the contents of the shaker into Cal’s face.

Thick red juice dripped down his forehead, nose, cheeks and chin.

“Cal?” Ariana feared how her unpredictable Italian husband might react. He was usually polite and compliant, but when he lost it…

He stepped back from the counter and opened his mouth, but instead of hurling abuse at the silly wench, his tongue licked his lips. “Delizioso!” His fingers proceeded to mop up the rest of his face, directing the blended drink into his mouth. “Thank you very much.” Cal picked the cloth back up and wiped off the remainder.

A few people in the cafe chuckled, while the two members of staff scowled. The little boy began crying again, presumably the drink having been his replacement. Ariana relaxed, proud that Cal had reacted in a positive way to the provocation.

“You think that’s funny?” a disheveled cockney said to a group of giggling students.

“Everything is awesome!” sang a cheeky scouser, taking a picture on his mobile phone.

“That'll be thirteen pounds thirty now,” said the girl serving.

“To be fair, I don’t think this guy owes anything,” said a black man sitting down with a woman.

“You work here?” asked the cockney customer.

“No, bu-”

“Then keep your f*****g nose out.”

“What did you say?” said the black man.

“Cliff, don't,” said the woman by his side, tugging at his shirt. 

Cliff pulled away and stood up, as did the cockney.

Cal looked around at Ariana, who indicated with her head that it was time to go. Cal glanced at the two men eyeballing each other and then began sidling towards Ariana.

“Where do you think you’re going? Pay up,” said the waitress again.

“Let it go, you silly little girl,” said Ariana impulsively.

“F**k off, you big fat b***h.”

Cal’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. He turned and threw the soggy cloth congealed with juice straight into the girl’s face. She instantly threw it back at him, but it missed and hit the little boy. The boy cried, his Mother shouted at the girl, the girl screamed obscenities at Cal and the students loved every minute of it.

The cockney lunged at the students, who scattered, sending chairs, tables and people flying. One lad was too slow and found himself thrown up against the wall. Cliff then punched the cockney in the back of the head and he stumbled forward into the student, who pushed him forcefully away. The cockney span and landed a punch on Cliff, before returning to the kid.

Cal took Ariana’s hand and together they backed away from the chaos. Some people collected their belongings and rushed out, while others tried to restrain the two wrestling men or calm the angry woman. The once serene cafe had turned into a wild west saloon bar brawl.

“This is your fault!” accused the girl. “You can pay for the damage.”

Cal put his arm around Ariana and led her away. “Let's get out-” He stopped abruptly and rushed forward to the sofa armchair Ariana had sat in.

“What is it?” she asked.

“The bags!” He looked all around, but the camera equipment was gone. Cal ran to the doorway and looked both ways, but the cases were nowhere to be seen in the busy street. “NO!” he said, placing his head against the door-frame.

Ariana lay her hand on Cal’s shoulder. “Cal, it doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t.” 

“My camera…”

“There’s nothing we can do. Let it go.” Ariana kissed him on the cheek. 

“Just what you deserve,” said the girl serving. “I hope it was expensive. It would have been cheaper to pay me.”

Cal began to turn his head towards her, but Ariana stopped him with her hand. “Don’t give her the satisfaction.”

Cal nodded and they walked out.

Stepping out into the pedestrian traffic was like getting hit by a bus. Ariana was barged in the back, pushed from the front and shoved sideways, no one having any regard for her condition. “Stare attento!” shouted Cal. What had appeared as regular commuter traffic transpired to be a panicked crowd. Knocked around like a pinball, Ariana instantly felt lightheaded and dizzy. She couldn’t afford to collapse here, she’d be trampled to death. She tried to protect her belly, but found it difficult to keep her arms in place, such was the force of pushing against her. She became whisked along with the crowd and lost sight of Cal in the commotion.

Her pulse began racing again, her forehead became clammy and she felt nauseous, her head instinctively lowering, ready to regurgitate. She forced herself to look up and try to find somewhere safe. All the pavements were packed, made worse because no one could cross the roads. Cars hurtled along, blatantly ignoring the traffic signals and pedestrian stampede. Ariana felt a surge of panic. She took deep breaths in a bid to stay conscious, but it was a losing battle and darkness overcame her vision. Her knees buckled and she collapsed.

When she felt her body floating, she thought she’d died. Her mind drifted and she imagined what her beautiful baby boy would have looked like. She had so desperately wanted to meet him and felt robbed of their life together.

Ariana was startled by a barrage of horns, followed by screeching, shouting and running footsteps. She fought her heavy eyelids and managed to open them a little. She lay horizontally above the middle lane, a row of stationary vehicles before her. She rolled her head to the other side and looked up at her dear Cal. He was carrying her in his arms. “You right, Britain condannato. We get first flight out.”