Read Hit & Mrs. Online

Authors: Lesley Crewe

Tags: #FIC010000, #FIC016000

Hit & Mrs. (6 page)

He nodded and wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve. “Get outta here.”

She laughed and grabbed her luggage. He got in the car, gave the parking attendant the finger, and took off.

Bette joined her. “He loves you, you fortunate girl.”

“Nah, he just likes to have his back rubbed before he goes to sleep.”

They hurried through the entrance. People came at them from every direction, most intent on getting somewhere as fast as possible. There was already a lineup to check in. They strained to see Augusta and Linda, but they weren't there. That's when Gemma realized their first mistake.

“Linda's got all our tickets. We can't get in line yet.”

“That's right. How stupid are we? They should be here by now.”

At that moment, Linda was stuck in traffic about a mile away. She was late leaving because she couldn't find the spare house key to give to Clive. Why hadn't she taken care of that days ago? She rooted in all the junk drawers, on top of the fridge, and in every basket she could find. Her taxi honked the horn outside. Buster accompanied her as she raced around the house.

“Buster, what am I going to do?”

Buster meowed. He wasn't sure.

“Oh, forget it.” She picked up her pussycat. “Be good. Mommy will be home on Friday. Don't scratch the new settee.” She kissed him, put him down, and raced to the front door to set the alarm. She closed the door, gestured to the taxi driver that she'd be one second, and rushed across the lawn to Clive's. Thank God he worked from home. She rang his doorbell and heard Winnie and Churchill warn their dad he had company.

Clive came to the door. At 7:30 in the morning, he had on a bowtie. Maybe he slept in one.

“Ah, the happy traveller is off.”

Linda shoved her keys in his hand. “I'm not so happy. I couldn't find the spare keys. You'll have to take mine. You know the code to get in. I've left enough food for Buster to keep him going for a year. Just make sure he has fresh water every day. The scoop for the kitty litter is by the box.”

“Go. We'll be fine.”

“Thank you so much. You're a doll.” She turned and ran down a couple of steps before she stopped and looked back. “Oh, my schedule is on the fridge door and my son's phone number is there too, just in case. He might drop by or he might not, I have no idea what's he's doing.”

“Probably having sex.”

Linda laughed over her shoulder. “Isn't he lucky? I wish it were me. Bye.”

“I wish it was you…er…me too.”

She gave him an astonished look. “Clive, behave yourself. Not in front of the boys.” She tore down the walk, jumped in the taxi, and waved goodbye.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, while Augusta waited for her taxi to come, she quizzed her mother on everything that could possibly go wrong. The girls stood nearby, as if to stay by their mother for as long as possible.

“All the emergency numbers are by the phone. 911 obviously, poison control, the weather report, the doctor…”

“The weather report? Why do I need that?” her mother asked.

Augusta was distracted. She should have called for a taxi earlier. She stood by her front window and willed the taxi to show up. “Sorry, what?”

“The weather report?”

“In case of freezing rain, snow, whatever.”

“In May?”

Augusta ignored her. “I have the number of the hotel on the fridge. The airline schedule is there too. I'll call when we get there.”

“It's okay, dear. Calm down. We'll be fine. Won't we, girls?”

The girls didn't look like they'd be fine.

Finally a taxi came up the street. “Oh, it's here.” Augusta hugged and kissed her girls at the same time. She kissed her mom last. “You'll look after them, won't you? They'll be all right?”

Her poor mother gave her a sad smile. “If you're going to do this, Augusta, please go and have fun. The girls will be fine. I'll be fine. I promise I'll watch them like a hawk.”

Augusta felt her eyes well up with tears. She had to leave fast. Everyone stood by the door as she got in the taxi. She waved at them through the side window and then out the back window as the taxi drove off. The girls ran out on the lawn and waved back. They got smaller and smaller. When she couldn't see them any more, she let out a sob.

“You okay, lady?”

She searched through her purse for a Kleenex. “Yes, I'm fine.” She saw the driver glance at her in the rearview mirror. “Really, I cry all the time.”

He didn't look reassured.

As fate would have it, Linda and Augusta arrived within ten seconds of each other. They paid their taxi fares and smiled when they saw each other.

“We're here. We're really going.” Linda pulled her suitcase behind her. “The other two must be inside. Let's get this show on the road.”

Augusta felt much better seeing Linda's happy face. Everything would be fine. She had nothing to worry about.

CHAPTER FOUR

Gemma was flying.

And by the time they got in the air, she was as crazy as a moose.

“Just what the heck did you give her?” Linda worried. She and Bette watched from their seats across the aisle as Augusta attempted to wrestle a glass of wine from Gemma's lips. She only ended up spilling it on both of them.

Bette bit her bottom lip. “Nothing too horrible, the usual stuff.”

“Well, the usual stuff must be a horse tranquillizer. How many did you give her?”

“Two.”

Linda gave her a look. “Are you nuts? Gemma doesn't take aspirin for a headache. You've probably given her an overdose.”

“Oh God, do you think so?”

They glanced back at their friend. Gemma giggled as she leaned her seat backwards as far as it would go. The businessman using his laptop behind her wasn't amused. He tapped her on the shoulder.

“Would you mind? I can't work if your chair is back this far.”

Gemma swivelled in her seat. “So stop working.”

“Just put it up a little,” Augusta said under her breath. “It's only polite.”

“You know what your problem is, Gussie? You're way too polite. You're so polite people walk all over you.” Gemma stuck her nose back between the seats and addressed the businessman again. “This isn't your office. It's a plane, so get over yourself.”

Augusta slapped her arm. “Turn around and shut up, Gemma. You're going to get us kicked off this plane.”

“Can they do that? I thought you weren't allowed to open a door in mid-flight.”

“Oh hell, I can't wait to get to New York.”

Gemma took off her seatbelt and stood up. “I have to pee.”

Augusta leaned toward Linda and Bette across the aisle. “Will you guys please help me?”

Bette got up. “I'll go with her. I feel responsible.”

Bette manoeuvred past Linda and helped Gemma crawl over Augusta and the young student sitting in the aisle seat. He looked as though he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. The plane gave a small lurch and Gemma ended up in his lap.

“Oh dear, are you all right?”

“Fine.”

“You shouldn't be travelling alone. Where's your mother?” She patted his head.

Bette grabbed her elbow. “For the love of God, get off of him and come with me.”

Gemma stuck her tongue out at her. One of the flight attendants got in on the act. She hurried over and asked if she could be of assistance. Between the two of them, they hurried Gemma down the aisle and into the bathroom. Bette waited outside the door.

“Sorry about this. My friend is afraid to fly and I gave her a tranquilizer. I think it was too much for her.”

“That's okay. I've seen worse.” The attendant rushed away and Bette stood guard; first on one foot, and then the other. She peeked back down the aisle and saw Linda and Augusta craning their necks at her. Linda pointed to her watch. Bette shrugged. That's when the turbulence started.

Bette grabbed the door handle. “Hurry up, Gemma.”

There was no response.

Bette knocked on the door. “Gemma.”

Nothing.

Bette knocked louder. “Gemma, are you all right?” She rattled the handle. “Hey, are you okay? Gemma!”

There was a muffled thud. Bette panicked. “She's unconscious.” She pushed at the door and nothing happened. She peeked out into the cabin and signalled for the flight attendant. Linda and Augusta thought she was waving at them. They bolted out of their seats. Now there were four people in front of the bathroom door.

“You must go back to your seats, ladies,” the flight attendant said. “The seatbelt sign is on.”

“But I heard a thud and she's not answering the door,” Bette said. “Oh my God, what if she's dead?”

Augusta covered her mouth with her hand.

“Don't be ridiculous,” Linda said. “She's fallen asleep.”

“Excuse me, everyone.” The flight attendant pushed past the three friends and opened the door in a jiffy. They found Gemma slumped over, sitting on the john with her panties down around her knees.

“Is she breathing?” Augusta asked.

As if to answer the question, Gemma gave a great snore.

They sighed together in relief. Between them, they got Gemma looking a little more dignified—which wasn't easy in a space the size of a pantry. Bette and Linda held Gemma up by her arms while Augusta quickly pulled Gemma's underwear back up where it belonged.

Linda stared at Gemma. “Am I seeing things? Was that a thong?”

Augusta nodded. “Sophia told her she looked sixty so Gemma bought a few as an experiment.”

“Well, the experiment has gone awry.”

The attendant suggested they put her in one of the empty first-class seats, so as not to hump her down the aisle and over the mortified student again. They led their sleepy friend over to a comfy seat and tucked her up in a blanket. The attendant told Augusta she could sit in the seat beside her. The student looked mightily relieved when Linda and Bette returned to their seats without their friends.

Just their luck, the plane circled over New York for a good hour— but since it was dark, there was no view to pass the time. Not even the famous lights of the city were visible. The captain came on to tell them it was overcast and unseasonably cold in the Big Apple. He didn't have to tell them it was windy. The plane bucked as it made its descent. A roller coaster would be hard pressed to come up with a better ride. Linda and Bette held hands through the descent, but Augusta was forced to bite her nails alone. Gemma snored on.

They finally landed, and as the other passengers filed out of the plane, Augusta shook Gemma awake. Gemma gave a great yawn and smacked her lips a couple of times.

“Aren't we in the air yet?”

“We're in New York, you ninny.”

Gemma shook her head. “We are? Where have I been?”

“Out cold.” Augusta stood and waited for Bette and Linda to join them. Gemma also stood but quickly sat down. “My head is throbbing.” The businessman with the laptop went by and gave them a dirty look.

Linda and Bette hurried up the aisle. “Are you okay, Gem?”

“Not really.”

Bette grabbed her hand. “Are you woozy? Sick to your stomach?”

Gemma adjusted her skirt and squirmed in her seat. “No, but I'll tell you this: These thongs are well named. I feel like I've got a rubber sandal up my butt.”

Augusta grabbed her bag and coat from Linda. “Can we please get out of here? I need a drink.”

They rushed out of the plane and into the La Guardia airport terminal, and hurried over to the luggage carousel. Augusta's suitcase came down with a broken wheel and the handle nearly ripped off, but she was lucky since Linda's didn't come down at all.

Linda stamped her foot. “I don't believe this. Now I have to report my bag missing. What a waste of time.”

“Get them to deliver it to the hotel,” Augusta said.

Gemma burped. “Remember that Visa card? Go get a whole new wardrobe. And while you're at it, buy me some antacids.”

At that moment a young mother, struggling to carry a crying baby and two over-the-shoulder bags, bumped into the back of Linda's heel with a stroller.

“Ow!”

“Oh, sorry,” the mother said.

Linda winced. “That's okay. Do you need us to hold anything for you? You look like you need help.”

“No thanks.” The mother walked away.

“This Miss Independent thing has gone too far,” Gemma said.

“Young women these days won't accept a stick to pull them out of quicksand.”

Linda looked around. “Okay. I have to find the Air Canada counter. Bette, I made arrangements with a car service to take us to the hotel. They're called ‘black cars' or something like that. They're parked at the front of the terminal. Why don't you go and tell them to wait?”

“I don't think we should be separated,” Augusta said. “Why don't we all go to the counter? The last thing I need is to lose one of you.”

Linda rolled her eyes. “Fine. You're such a worry wart.”

They wandered about, looking for signs to point them in the right direction. When they finally found the right place there was a line of people in front of every agent, so they had no choice but to wait. Finally, in desperation, Linda insisted Bette and Augusta go out to nab their car before someone else grabbed it. She shoved a piece of paper at them with the name of the car service on it. Gemma stayed behind. She sat and swayed on her luggage, nodding off every few minutes.

Bette and Augusta hurried through the airport once more. They followed the signs and eventually arrived at what looked like the main entrance. They went through the doors and saw cars and taxis and minivans, with people hopping in and out, and traffic being directed by parking attendants. But the wind very nearly knocked them off their feet and the rain didn't help matters.

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