The Abbottsford Police Chronicles – # 3, a Taste of Honey

 

Police Constable Philippa Mead sat in the Police canteen drinking a coffee and brushing sugar off her uniform trousers and was blissfully unaware that at that precise moment decisions that would change her life forever were being made.

 

Chief inspector Bill Overend was a great bear of a man, but such was his benign disposition you might be confused into thinking he was more of an overstuffed teddy bear, but you would be mistaken, his wits were as sharp as a knife and as a result he was a good copper and he commanded great respect from colleagues and villains alike.

On this particular morning he was on his way to see the Chief Superintendent to discuss replacements.

His squad was already one man down, Chris Blenkin, who was on long term sick leave and was not going to return and another officer, Jenny Hack, who was about to go on maternity leave, so as he entered George Tiplady’s office he did so with some optimism.

 

Philippa, or as she preferred Pippa, was to the untrained eye a rather plain almost emaciated looking girl, stick thin with straight shoulder length blonde hair and as she never wore make up at work, she looked five years older than the twenty-six she actually was.

Off duty she was a bit of a tomboy and wore quite masculine looking clothes leading some to suppose her to be a lesbian.

They couldn’t be more wrong.

Even though her features were plain there was something about her that shone through from within, now whether it was her eyes which were the most stunning green or a smile that could melt the hardest heart it’s difficult to know but, as a result she was never short of a date.

She was a single girl and content to be so for now as she had not yet met the right person, but she was in no hurry.

There was no one special in her life at present.

She drained her coffee and made her way to the muster room for the duty briefing.

 

Overend left the Chief Superintendents office after a less than satisfactory meeting; he did get two out of the three replacements, but not the ones he wanted.

Due to political pressure from above to change the profile of the police he had been lumbered with two officers being fast tracked which meant that the ticked the Home Office boxes but had no experience and were worse than bloody useless.

It had been his wish to promote three PCs up from the ranks from his own station to CID, Pippa Mead among them but it appeared that was not to be, for now at least.

 

He was not the only one in Abbottsford to have had a disappointing outcome Pippa spend her entire shift being the public face of British policing without actually managing to impact crime in any way shape or form but it wasn’t always like that.

 

As luck would have it that night the criminal fraternity were very active in the Abbottsford police district and as the new officers were not due for another four weeks Bill Overend got the three officers he wanted if only on a temporary basis but if he could clear these cases before the new appointees arrived he would have a strong case for keeping the officers he wanted and the fast tracks could go and tick boxes on someone else’s relief.

 

The next morning Pippa, and PCs, Webster and Griffin were instructed they had been seconded to CID for a prolonged period.

This came as a complete surprise to Pippa, who, despite having done several spells in CID in the past, was not aware of having made any significant kind of impact that would merit an extended duty in CID, but all that said she was delighted.

 

Chief inspector Overend was feeling a little smug at his getting his own way even if it might turn out to be short term.

The first order of the day was to place the temporary DC’s to individual teams and then assign those teams to the growing list of cases, which Overend was anxious to make inroads into.

 

Pippa's day just kept getting better she was added to Detective Sgt Tilly Donnally’s team, Donnally was someone she admired very much, if a little scary, she was a fiery thirty-two-year-old red head, who led by example and relied heavily on her instincts, which rarely failed her.

Then she was paired with Detective Constable James Pidd who was a quiet unassuming thirty something man, a very calm and very capable detective not a leader but blessed with a very analytical mind.

But despite his unassuming nature, to everyone’s surprise, including his own, he found himself engaged to Theresa Bennington who was the Granddaughter of the Lord Lieutenant of the county, though such is the nature of the man he was not the sort to use his social position to benefit his career.

“Jimmy and Pippa,” Overend said pausing briefly to consult his notes,

“Clifford’s Biscuits were turned over last night; the owner is on site and is probably not a happy cookie.”

“On our way sir.” Said DC Pidd completely missing the joke, as did Pippa who was already halfway to the door.

 

Jimmy Pidd and Pip Mead had worked together on many occasions in the past and they got on well.

Also, they complimented each other he with his analytical mind and she with her razor sharp instinct and hard graft.

The only bone of contention between them was the driving.

They both hated to drive, this was very unusual, as normally partners fight over who gets the keys.

They had tried a number of ways in the past to determine who got lumbered with the driving such as, Rock, Paper, Scissors, Arm wrestling or tossing a coin but they never worked as they both had a propensity to cheat. 

So they decided the fairest way was one of them would drive there and the other would drive on the return journey.

Today Jimmy Pidd was driving and there was only one thing he hated more than driving and that was driving in the rain.

At least Clifford’s was in Abbottsford’s only about three miles from the station.

Clifford’s biscuits was an old family business established in 1879 by Robert Sebastian Clifford and was currently run by his Great-Great Grandson Donald.

They had moved to their present location in Abbottsford’s in 1928.

The two DC’s presented their warrant cards to the Olympic security guard and were waved through the main gate and directed to the reception.

The broad white building was a great example of the art deco style with its angles, curves and symmetry. 

DC Pidd got out of the car and paused for a moment, despite the rain, in appreciation of the stylish building.

“What a great building.” Said Jimmy.

“Yes it’s very…. white.” Said DC Mead running towards the building.

“Is that all you can find to say about this magnificent structure?”

Said a stunned

“This wonderful example of Art Deco architecture?”

She stopped running, then took a moment to study the façade then said.

“Yes, I stand by my original statement, it’s definitely white”

“You’re a philistine Pip.” Pidd said running after her.

 

Pidd and Mead walked into reception and were greeted by a middle aged balding man in a smart suit.

“Good morning.” He said offering his hand. “Peter Frecknell assistant manager”

“Good morning sir, I’m DC Pidd.” Jimmy said shaking the offered hand.

“And this is DC Mead.” He said gesturing toward Philippa.

“Sir.” She said also shaking hands.

“Would you like to see the scene of the crime now?” He said relishing the change of routine.

“Afterwards I will take you through to the conference room Mr. Clifford would like meet you before you leave.” And he turned and led them up the stairs.

After Pidd and Mead had been shown the suspected point of entry and Mr. Frecknell had given them a tour of the offices, which were in good order save for the power leads and data cables trailing to and from non-existent PC’s, Printers, and Scanners etc.

The factory operated Twenty-four hours a day seven days a week, but the main offices were seldom used after six PM.

They were then covered by CCTV and monitored from the security building located by the main gate.

The offices were patrolled on foot every two hours through the night from eight PM to Eight AM.

The burglary occurred between six and eight. The intruders managed to bypass the alarm system and they were somehow able to override the CCTV feeding back the recorded images to security while they stripped the place bare.

They interviewed staff but no one remembered seeing anything out of the ordinary.

Then they were shown into the conference room to meet Donald Clifford.

Walking into the long grandly decorated room with a huge twenty-four-foot-long mahogany topped conference table they saw an immaculately dressed man of sixty standing at the far end.

“Good morning, officers.” He said walking towards them.

He was wearing a high-quality handmade suit and expensive Italian shoes. His hand made silk tie probably cost more than Mead’s entire ensemble.

“Mr. Clifford?”  Jimmy asked.

“Goodness me no.” He said with a hint of a smile. “My name is Tyler-Moore, Marcus Tyler-Moore.”

“He’s our financial Director.”  Mr. Frecknell elaborated.

“I’m DC Pidd and this is DC Mead.”

He shook hands with them both.

The door opened behind them and a tall, lean shabbily dressed man in his early thirties entered.

He had what looked like a necktie hanging from his trouser pocket and his shirt was un-tucked.

What must once have been a clean white shirt was now smeared with grease and dirt.

His sleeves were rolled up exposing his skinny white arms also smeared with dirt and his trousers were dirty and torn.

He was wiping dirt off his hands with a monogrammed handkerchief.

“I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting.” He said politely. “A problem with one of the machines.”

“Don! We have maintenance people to do that.”  Marcus said in a fatherly way.

“He can’t help interfering.” Marcus said addressing the two officers. “He forgets it’s his company sometimes.”

“I know Marcus but I like to help.”

He inspected his right hand briefly and offered it to Jimmy Pidd to shake.

“Don Clifford.” He said.

“DC Pidd.” Jimmy said. “And this is DC Me…”

“Philippa.” She interrupted. “Mead.”

“What a lovely name.” Don said taking her hand and gazing at her.

“The lover of horses and a sweet honey brew”

Philippa held his gaze and his hand for longer than necessary.

“Coffee?” Marcus broke the spell.

Don and Philippa broke away with a little embarrassment and they both blushed.

“Yes a good idea.” Don Clifford answered.

“Or tea if you would prefer?” Looking at Pip again.

“Please sit down,” He offered with a sweeping Gesture.

“Tea would be very nice thank you Mr. Clifford.” Philippa said almost coyly.

“Please call me Don.”

“Ok Don.” She said and giggled.

Jimmy was amazed he had never seen this side of Pippa before she was being feminine and he’d never heard her giggle before. Either.

He looked at Marcus who shrugged this was obviously new behaviour for Mr Clifford as well.

“Coffee for me please.” Jimmy said as he sat in the closest chair.  

Marcus nodded in Peter Frecknell’s direction and he slipped out through the door almost unnoticed.

After a few minutes he returned, holding open the door while an overweight middle aged woman in a type of uniform and apron pushed a trolley loaded with crockery, tea and coffee pots, milk jug, sugar bowl and a plate of biscuits.

“Thank you Doreen.” Marcus said as she unloaded the trays onto a side table.

“Sir.” She turned and left.

While they drank Jimmy filled them in about bypassing the alarm system and that they managed to override the CCTV and miraculously managed to leave through the main gate right under the nose of Olympic security.

He directed most of his comments to Marcus Tyler-Moore as Mr Clifford’s eyes were continuously being drawn towards Pip and hers to him.

He went on to explain that Scene of Crime officers would be on site soon though he was not hopeful that that would turn up anything as this was a very professional job.

 “If you could provide us with a full inventory of the stolen items as soon as convenient we can have it circulated.” Jimmy said. “And we will be able to give you a crime number for the insurance.”

“Thank you Constable Pidd.” Marcus said.

Jimmy stood up.

“Yes thank you.” Don Clifford tore his attention away from Pip and stood up proffering his hand.

“And thank you also Detective Constable Mead.”

“Yes thank you Philippa.” Don said taking her hand again.

“I think the officers need to be going now Don.”  Marcus said slapping Donald firmly on the back.

He reluctantly let go of Pippa’s hand and they both blushed again.

“You can contact me on this number when you have the list.” Jimmy handed a business card to Marcus.

Pippa handed her card to Donald and to Jimmy’s amazement she giggled again.

 

Philippa and Jimmy didn’t say a word on the short walk back to the car.

But when she walked to the passenger side Jimmy broke the silence.

“Oy Dolly daydream.” He shouted. “You’re driving remember”

She jumped. “Sorry Jimmy I was miles away.”

“I know where you were and who you were with.”

Then she flushed red.   

 

 

Bill Overend was pleased with the general progress being made on all the major enquires and was still quietly confident that his expectations of a timely result before the two new staff members would be foisted upon him.

Jimmy and Pip were exploring the possible involvement of the Security company in the Clifford’s robbery as they have been the common denominator in a series of break ins and for several days had been wading through piles of documents from Olympic Security searching for any patterns that might appear.

 

Although she was enjoying her time in CID Pippa had spent the last two weeks slightly depressed and more than a little bewildered.

She had been awaiting, no expecting, a phone call, from Donald Clifford, she was convinced that they had hit it off, or connected or something and she just couldn’t understand why he hadn’t rang.

This was new territory for Pippa because normally she was not short of admirers though not in any way inundated, most of whom she felt complete indifference.

She was not used to wanting someone to call and to have someone she was attracted to, Fancied even, not to call her was something of a novelty, which she was neither accustomed to nor would wish to become accustomed to.

She had even committed the cardinal sin, something she had never ever considered, had never needed to consider, she had called his office, not once, nor twice but three times.

She was told on all three occasions that he was not available.

Not available! Bloody cheek.

Pippa was a bit of party girl and very good company and she was popular with a large circle of friends but she hadn’t enjoyed herself since she met that bloody biscuit man.

She hadn’t been out at all for the last week.

Bloody, Bloody man.

 

As another week drew to its conclusion Pippa Mead continued to discharge her duties in a state of anxious bewilderment.

He still hadn’t called.

What was wrong with the man?

How could she have got it so wrong?

After all she thought he was besotted with her he really seemed to be, she was mow beginning to think it was merely conceit on her part, to assume that he liked her.

Pippa was certainly besotted with him and that had never happened before, and she wasn’t sure she liked it at all.

She had even taken the unprecedented step of actually going to the factory, on the pretext of furthering police enquires, but in reality to see Donald Clifford only to be told he was not available.

She had never ever been treated so shabbily she thought to herself indignantly and then she chastised herself because realized she was being given a taste of her own medicine.

Should she talk to someone?

Yes, but whom?

Tilly? No far too scary, Gracie possibly, no Jenny, she would talk to Jenny. 

 

Bill Overend and his opposite number John Holt who was the Uniform Inspector were having a drink at the “George” this was by way of an olive branch as John Holt wanted his PC’s back and Bill didn’t want to give them back.

They were good friends and had been for years and it would take a lot more than poaching a few PC’s to drive a wedge between them but they both enjoyed playing the part.

While the two Inspectors were sparring in the pub over her future Pippa Mead was anxiously stalking Jenny Hack through the busy market day streets of Abbottsford.

She had tried several times to approach Jenny at the station but she was frustrated by the constant interruptions, either by someone else butting in or by the telephone ringing.

She even tried to catch her in the car park, as she was leaving for lunch, but Superintendent Tiplady got to her first.

So she was reduced to stalking her like a criminal.

Pippa had followed her to every baby shop in town and then to several chemist shops.

By the time Jenny reached the market stalls Pippa was desperate even though she had no idea what she would say.  

When Jenny stopped at a green grocer’s stall Pippa seized her chance, she waited until Jenny had paid for her fruit and veg and made her move.

“Hi Jenny. Can I help with your bags you look a bit over loaded?”

“Hi. Thanks Pip. I have over done it a bit. It’s a good job I’ve finished.”

Pippa took a few of the heavier bags from her.

“Are you heading back to the car now?” Pip asked.

“Have you finished your shopping?”

“What? Oh yes I didn’t really need anything.”

They began walking towards the car park.

“It was lucky you ran into me I’m not sure I would have made it back to the car on my own.”

Jenny had been aware of Pippa in the office and suspected she was trying to talk to her.

She had even noticed her around town a couple times and looking at her pensive expression she suddenly realized this was not a chance meeting.

The conversation was pretty much one sided for the rest of the five minute walk with Jenny doing the majority of the talking.

When they arrived at the car park they loaded the bags into Jenny’s boot.

After a glance in Pippa’s direction and noticing the pensiveness had not left her face she said.  

“Do you know what I could do with?”

Pippa shook her head.

“A cup of coffee.” She answered. “There’s a café over the road. Do you fancy one?”

“Yes. I’d love one.” Pippa visibly brightened.

Once they were settled at a table Pippa sat fiddling with a napkin and trying to think of what to say and Jenny stirred her coffee while she looked on, while Pippa tortured herself, and smiled to herself.

Finally Jenny could stand it no longer.

“So what’s on your mind Pip?”  

“Eh?” She had an expression on her face like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an approaching car.

“Something’s bothering you, what is it?”

Pippa took a deep breath. 

“Oh Jenny, I’ve been dying to talk to someone.”

“But I feel so silly and I don’t know where to start.”

“At the beginning is a good place.” Jenny said simply.

“Well you know Jimmy and me went to that break in at Clifford’s, a month ago?”

Jenny nodded and sipped her coffee.

“Well we finished up in the conference room and we met.”

“Donald Clifford.” Jenny interrupted.

“Yes. How did you know?” asked Pip.

“Jimmy told me. He said you were smitten.” Jenny smiled broadly. 

“Jimmy?”

“Yes. Jimmy said he was a nice guy. So what’s the problem?”

“He hasn’t called me. That’s the problem. I gave him my card and he hasn’t called.”

 “You did throw away all of those misprinted cards you had? Didn’t you? The one’s with the ACC’s phone number on.”

“Oh God I hadn’t thought of that.” Pippa was horrified.

“Have you called him?”

“Yes several times, I even went there to see him I was told he wasn’t available.”

“I can’t believe he wouldn’t see you or speak to you if he was there. He seemed too nice for that.” Jenny said finishing her coffee.

“Have you met him then?” Pippa asked urgently.

“Not to talk to. He was at the front desk one day talking to Sgt. Frank.” Jenny replied. “I assumed it was something to do with the case.”

“I didn’t get a message.”

“That doesn’t mean that he didn’t leave one you know what George Frank’s like.”

 

Pippa, the moment she returned to the station, went directly to reception in search of Sergeant George Frank.

She found him in a form of conversation with PC Deacon, which involved Deacon uttering a few words and Sgt. Frank ranting his response. His ranting's could last for up to ten minutes depending on the subject.

The reason for this was simple George Frank was a miserable old pain in the ass who hated his job and tried to ensure everyone else did as well.

“I took my girlfriend to the eye on Saturday.” Deacon began.

“The what?”

“The London eye Serge, at Greenwich.”

“Oh the big wheel. I never go to London it’s a cesspit.”

“But the view is fantastic.” Deacon enthused.

“A toilet is still a toilet Deacon irrespective of the angle from which it is viewed.”

“But you can see for miles.”

“A sewer is still a sewer.”

“Serge?” Pippa stopped him in mid rant. “Have you got a minute?”

“What is it Mead?” He barked.

“I’m working on the Clifford’s robbery case.”

“So?”

“I’ve have been trying to get in touch with Mr. Clifford at the factory and I was told he came here to the station about a month ago and spoke to you.”

“And?”

“Did he leave a message?” Asked Pippa.

 “I don’t know. It’s busy down here you know a lot happens in a month.”

“Could you check Serge?” She asked. “It’s very important.”

He sighed heavily and put his glasses on and began moving papers around and looking under things and all the time he was muttering under his breath.

Then he began on the shelf under the counter and after a great deal of huffing and puffing he brought out an item and put it on the counter.

The object had a square wooden plinth at the base through which a six-inch spike was attached.

Impaled on the spike were pieces of paper of different shapes and sizes.

He fumbled through the pieces of paper still muttering beneath his breath until he suddenly…

“Ah ha.” He exclaimed.

He pulled off a wad of papers from the top and the removed an item and replaced the wad back on the spike.

He then replaced the spike under the counter where he found it.

“There.” He said thrusting an envelope in her direction.

“Now perhaps I can get back to work?”

“Thanks Serge.” Pippa said rushing out the door.

 

She ran up the stairs and straight into the ladies toilets.

When she got inside she checked she was alone and then chose a cubicle and sat down.

She sat for what seemed like an hour, although it was only a few minutes in reality, staring at the envelope.

It was simply addressed to DC Mead.

What if it was a list of the stolen goods or a thank you for a prompt and professional response or a copy of the insurance claim or maybe a donation to the Police officers benevolent fund?

She steeled herself and ripped open the envelope.

Inside, folded in half, was a sheet of A5, expensive, notepaper.

She took a deep breath and chastised herself for behaving like a silly schoolgirl and unfolded the sheet of notepaper.

On the paper was a short hand written note in very neat style of handwriting.

And she read:

 

Detective Constable Mead, Philippa.

 

I have to apologize for contacting you in this rather forward manner, but I have been trying to speak with you for the last few days and I have tried several times to phone you on the mobile number you provided.

This was, however, to no avail as all I managed to get was a rather rude and abusive gentleman whose comments I could not bring myself to commit to paper.

I understand from the Sergeant on reception that you are out of the office following enquiries so I am leaving this note.

I have unfortunately now been called away on family business and will out of the country for the next few weeks.

The reason I have been so anxious to contact you is that I would very much like to take you to dinner, which will now have to be on my return.

I look forward to hearing from you, and I hope very much that you will honor me with your company.

 

My very best regards.

 

Donald

 

At the bottom of the page, also in his very neat hand, were two phone numbers and an email address.

She was up on her feet out of the cubicle and dancing when the door opened and Jenny Hack waddled in.

Pip raced over and hugged Jenny.

“It’s good news then?” Jenny guessed.

“Yes, yes.” Was all she could manage.

“Don’t hug to tight I need a wee.”

 

Pippa Mead was feeling much happier with the world.

Not only had she, if belatedly, received, and read, the letter from Donald Clifford but she and Jimmy had made a major breakthrough on the case.

She was on top of the world.

She managed to corner Jenny in reception just as she was leaving, she was with her friend Lizzie but that was the closest to being alone she had been all day so she took her chance.

“This is a little something to say thanks for your help with ... well you know what.”

Jenny beamed a tearful smile and Lizzie looked puzzled.

“Thanks Pip, that’s really sweet”

 

It was now three days since Pippa had received, and read, the letter and it was also three days since she had begun trying to contact him on the two phone numbers and the email address he had included in the letter.

Donald kept two mobile phones, one for business and one for private use.

When she dialed the mobile phone numbers all she got was the answer phone, so she left message after message after message.

When that failed she emailed, several times, but to no avail.

During those three days she had gone through every emotion between elation and black despair.

Doubting the evidence contained in the letter, which had led her to believe his interest in her was more than professional.

She even doubted his motives for wanting to dine with her.

The family business of which he wrote in his letter was obviously a fabrication and he was merely playing some kind of sadistic game with her.

But she played her part in the game by phoning and emailing at regular intervals.

She had even called Marcus Tyler-Moore, the Clifford family solicitor.

He told her the last time he spoke with Donald he was in transit to Australia but that had been over two weeks ago and he had heard nothing since.

Then she began to wonder if he had been killed and was that the reason nobody could reach him?

Or maybe he was lying in a coma somewhere in a filthy foreign hospital.

Then this morning she awoke early, around four o’clock, and switched on her PC to check her emails.

While the PC was booting she went to the kitchen and made herself a hot drink.

Then she wandered back to PC and sat silently as she logged on and she expected to find her mailbox empty as usual.

She was right it was empty but for two pieces of junk mail.

One was from the financial sector wanting to loan her money and the second, as if to add insult on to injury, was an invitation to join a singles club.

Then she cursed herself for abandoning her carefree existence and allowing herself to be diverted.

She had never sought a soul mate or a life partner she had an abundance of friends with whom she had fun.

This was not fun.

What her friends must be thinking of her she could hardly imagine.

All she could do was put this past month down as a temporary aberration.

She would tell her friends she had been unwell but was much better now.

Pip reached out and picked up her address book and flicked through.

It was time to put all this love nonsense behind her, it was not for her, and now she had to get on with her life.

Finishing her tea she returned to the kitchen and poured herself another mug.

Returning to the PC she reached out to switch off.

Ping!

She had mail.

What this time, free books, Jesus saves, stripper’s r us or a lonely-hearts site.

She reached out again to hit the off switch.

But what if?

No! I’m not going there again, she thought to herself.

But what if?

No! I’ve made my decision, it’s over, and I’m cured.

She hesitated, her hand poised over the power switch.

“Shit!” She muttered as she sat down.

She opened her mailbox all the time cursing herself for weakening.

There was a new email from an address she didn’t recognize and she moved it to trash without opening it.

“Why do I do this to myself?” She said to herself walking towards the bathroom.

“Why didn’t I just trust my own judgment in the first place?”

She stopped suddenly.

“AU!” she shouted, “It ended AU.”

She ran back to the PC.

Quickly sitting down she recovered the email from the trash.

Pippa took a deep breath and opened the mail.

It was from Donald.

As she eagerly read the mail all her doubts and fears dissolved away.

Donald was indeed in Australia and he had had a series of misadventures.

Firstly he dropped his business mobile in the departure lounge at Heathrow Airport and then on arrival in Sydney he had the bag containing his laptop stolen.

But it was only when he tried to use his second mobile phone to report the theft that he realized it was also in the bag with his laptop.

So that was why Pippa had been unable to contact him.

The reason for his protracted visit was that he had been named as executor to his recently deceased Uncle’s estate and he had been attempting to settle his Uncle’s many interest’s, for example the last sixteen days had been spent on a remote sheep station.

He was now back in Sydney staying at the home of a close friend and was availing himself of his friend’s computer.

He still had a few lose ends to tie up but he was hoping to be back in England by the end of the following week.

Pippa was overjoyed.

She replied to the mail immediately and was rewarded a few minutes later with a reply of her own.

This continued for the next two hours until she glanced at the clock and reluctantly dragged herself away to get ready for work.

 

Pip spent much of a bright spring Saturday in her flat dressed in “Sloppy Joes” and glued to her computer trading emails with Donald Clifford in Australia.

The general content of their correspondence was first date stuff finding out each other’s likes and dislikes their backgrounds and their aspirations.

This was interspersed with outrageous flirtation and even a degree of lovemaking.

This was a new experience certainly for her and she hoped for him also.

She had not had Internet sex before.

It was nice.

Even so she couldn’t wait for him to come home.

 

A week later Pippa Mead’s slender frame trembled as she looked up at the board to see that flight BA145 from Sydney had landed.

 

She had arrived at the airport two hours before the flight was due and then the flight was delayed a further ninety minutes.

She had spent a sleepless night and even spending two hours getting ready hadn’t eaten into the time as much as she thought it would so she decided she might as well waist the time at the airport rather than at home.

Big mistake.

She had thought that there would be more distractions at a busy international airport and the time would not hang so heavy.

The problem with this theory was that almost everywhere you look at an airport you find a clock or time display.

She had bought magazines, she tried reading a book, and she drank endless cups of coffee and made endless visits to the toilets.

Pippa felt as though she had been at the damned airport for days.

Now the plane had landed and she was trembling.

Pippa turned on her heels and rushed to the nearest toilets.

After emptying her bladder for the umpteenth time she stood in front of the mirror and surveyed her reflection.

She was, by her own admission, a rather stick thin plain looking girl with, two redeeming features, the most stunning eyes and good legs.

As she stood before the mirror she combed her straight shoulder length blonde hair and then touched up her makeup.

She had discarded her normally masculine looking clothes, which led many people to suppose her to be a lesbian.

Instead she wore a short floral dress, showing off her legs, she liked her legs.

She turned side on to admire herself in the mirror then she stood on her tiptoes to get a better look at her legs, she nodded to herself, shame I don’t have a bum though she thought to herself.

Having viewed herself from every possible angle she gave herself a quick spray of perfume and put her things away in her bag.

Stopping briefly for one last look in the mirror she said out loud.

“I scrub up very nicely.”

Then she nodded and made her way back to the arrival hall.

 

As Pippa reached the arrival gate the first of the passengers were beginning to dribble through.

Then as more and more streamed through the gate she began to panic what if he doesn’t recognize me now I’m not dressed like a lesbian, what if I don’t recognize him.

When she calmed herself down she thought “I hope this blokes worth all this, my life’s been a complete disaster since the moment we first met”.

She need not have worried, the moment she saw him she knew him, and it was not the shabbily dressed man she had first met.

But the tall, lean thirty something that entered the concourse was unmistakable Donald Clifford.

He was wearing chinos and a sweatshirt and Pippa thought he looked great.

There was tiredness around the eyes but apart from that he looked great.

He paused for a moment to glance at the sea of faces then he looked straight into her exceptional eyes, smiled and walked toward her.

She pointed towards the exit and they began walking that way, both on different sides of the barrier and never averting their gaze and totally oblivious to anyone else’s presence.

When they reached the exit in the barrier they continued walking still gazing at each other until they were out of the main flow of travelers.

Now they were facing each other.

“Hello.” Don said.

“Hello.” She answered coyly.

Then they kissed.

And all the panic and self-doubt just melted away.

This man was worth it; this man was her soul mate.