Can you keep a secret_ - Sophie Kinsella [9]
'… always have a glass of sweet sherry before a date, just to calm my nerves …'
'He's wonderful. Connor's completely wonderful. I'm just so lucky. Everyone's always telling me how great he is. He's sweet, and he's good, and he's successful and everyone calls us the perfect couple …'
'… I'd never tell anyone this in a million years. But sometimes I think he's almost too good-looking. A bit like one of those dolls? Like Ken. Like a blond Ken.'
And now I'm on the subject of Connor, I'm saying things I've never said to anyone. Things I never even realized were in my head.
'… gave him this lovely leather watch for Christmas, but he wears this orange digital thing because it can tell him the temperature in Poland or something stupid …'
'… took me to all these jazz concerts and I pretended to enjoy them to be polite, so now he thinks I love jazz …'
'… every single Woody Allen film off by heart and says each line before it comes and it drives me crackers …'
'… just looks at me as though I'm speaking some foreign language …'
'… determined to find my G spot, so we spent the whole weekend doing it in different positions, and by the end I was just knackered, all I wanted was a pizza and Friends …'
'… he kept saying, what was it like, what was it like? So in the end I just made some stuff up, I said it was absolutely amazing, and it felt as though my whole body was opening up like a flower, and he said, what sort of flower, so I said a begonia …'
'… can't expect the initial passion to last. But how do you tell if the passion's faded in a good, long-term-commitment way or in a crap, we-don't-fancy-each-other-any-more way …'
'… knight in shining armour is not a realistic option. But there's a part of me that wants a huge, amazing romance. I want passion. I want to be swept off my feet. I want an earthquake, or a … I don't know, a huge whirlwind … something exciting. Sometimes I feel as if there's this whole new, thrilling life waiting for me out there, and if I can just—'
'Excuse me, miss?'
'What?' I look up dazedly. 'What is it?' The air hostess with the French plait is smiling down at me.
'We've landed.' I stare at her.
'We've landed?'
This doesn't make sense. How can we have landed? I look around – and sure enough, the plane's still. We're on the ground.
I feel like Dorothy. A second ago I was swirling around in Oz, clicking my heels together, and now I've woken up all flat and quiet and normal again.
'We aren't bumping any more,' I say stupidly.
'We stopped bumping quite a while ago,' says the American man.
'We're … we're not going to die.'
'We're not going to die,' he agrees.
I look at him as though for the first time – and it hits me. I've been blabbering non-stop for an hour to this complete stranger. God alone knows what I've been saying.
I think I want to get off this plane right now.
'I'm sorry,' I say awkwardly. 'You should have stopped me.'
'That would have been a little difficult.' There's a tiny smile at his lips. 'You were on a bit of a roll.'
'I'm so embarrassed!' I try to smile, but I can't even look this guy in the eye. I mean, I told him about my knickers. I told him about my G spot.
'Don't worry about it. We were all stressed out. That was some flight.' He picks up his knapsack and gets up from his seat – then looks back at me. 'Will you be OK getting back home?'
'Yes. I'll be fine. Thanks. Enjoy your visit!' I call after him, but I don't think he hears.
Slowly I gather my things together and make my way off the plane. I feel sweaty, my hair's all over the place, and my head is starting to throb.
The airport seems so bright and still and calm after the intense atmosphere of the plane. The ground seems so firm. I sit quietly on a plastic chair for a while, trying to get myself together, but as I stand up at last, I still feel dazed. I walk along in a slight blur, hardly able to believe I'm here. I'm alive. I honestly never