Never Say Never (Lakeview Contemporary Romance Book 3) (2 page)

R
obin stood awkwardly
in front of the security guard. Her heart hammered nervously as he asked – no
ordered
– her to hold out her arms. She did so, crucifixion-style.

He began to pat her down quickly and impersonally and again Robin wondered why she always felt so guilty in these situations when it was likely that it was just some loose change in her pockets that was setting off the scanners.

Ben stood on the other side laughing at her. Her boyfriend just sailed through every time. And even if Robin did manage to get past without incident (which didn’t happen very often) the guards nearly always spot-frisked her anyway. With her shoulder-length auburn hair and light complexion, she looked as Irish as the next woman, so why did JFK airport security always peg her as a possible international terrorist? Oh well she thought, sighing inwardly, it surely was a sign of the times.

The inquisition over, Robin joined Ben on the other side.

He shook his head. “Same thing every single time,” he joked. “Now come on, we’d better get a move on.”

Robin quickened her step and the two of them hastened towards their departure gate. They’d been lucky to reach the airport in the time they did, she thought, the Friday afternoon traffic across Manhattan beggaring belief. She had lived in the city for nearly seven years now, and she still couldn’t get used to the unbearable traffic. The taxi-driver had driven like a man possessed to get them to the airport in time for their flight.

“Have you got the boarding cards?” she asked Ben as they approached their gate.

“Me? I thought you had them,” he replied seriously, although she knew by the mischievous glint in his eyes that he was only teasing. Hopefully.

“Not the time to be joking around, Ben,” she scolded. “Not when this plane is about to take off.”

“Ah, they’d never leave without us.”

“They would too,” Robin said and, smiling at the cabin-crew member, asked him, “wouldn’t you?”

“It’s another ten minutes till take-off, ma’am,” the crew member informed her, “but according to regulations –”

“It’s OK – we’re here now,” Ben interjected.

“Can I see your identification, please?”

Robin and Ben duly produced their Irish passports and the man studied the documentation for a long uncomfortable moment, paying particular attention to their photographs.

“That
is
me, really,” Ben joked trying to lighten the mood. “And yes, I
know
I’m miles better looking in real life but there you go.”

But there wasn’t the slightest response to his attempts at friendly humour and the man eventually handed back their passports without comment.

“Crikey,” Ben said to Robin on the way down the gangway. “Do none of these guys have a sense of humour anymore? I know that things have to be tight, but it’s only a short hop down the road.”

“Well would you prefer they weren’t so particular?”

“No, but –”

“Well then button it, and let’s start enjoying this little break of ours.”

As they reached the door of the aircraft, Ben hugged her to him. Robin was really looking forward to this. She and Ben hadn’t had a holiday in ages. OK, it was only a short few days in Washington, and they wouldn’t get to do or see all that much, but still she was really looking forward to her first visit to the capital. Manhattan could be claustrophobic sometimes, and things had been so hectic at work for both of them they could do with this break.

Yet Robin felt a familiar feeling of discomfort as she handed in her boarding card.

“Straight down on the left-hand side – seats 10B and C,” the stewardess informed them pleasantly. Robin smiled as she passed by; relieved the girl hadn’t made any comment. Still, she remembered then, it was unlikely there was any indication on her boarding card.

She and Ben made their way slowly down along the aircraft, bumping past people who were shifting their luggage about and trying to get settled.

Robin reached Row 10 and was about to take her seat and let Ben stow their bags overhead – as was their routine – when a familiar scent hit her nostrils. Instantly, she turned around and motioned for Ben to follow her back up the aisle.

“What is it, hon?” Ben asked but, with a quick glance at the seats directly behind theirs, he soon saw what was bothering his girlfriend. “Ah – not again,” he said, his voice tinged with annoyance. “Don’t these people ever listen?”

“You sit down for a minute – I’ll talk to them,” Robin looked around for a stewardess.

“Are you sure? I’ll go with you if –”

“No, I don’t want to make a big fuss,” she said grimacing.

Seeing a stewardess approach from the other end of the plane, Robin waylaid her. Trying to keep her tone low so as not to be overheard by the passengers in the immediate vicinity, she outlined the problem.

“Let me look into it, ma’am,” the stewardess said a little warily, “but, as you can see, the aircraft is almost fully boarded – it might be difficult now to reassign the seating.”

“I understand that, but when I made the booking I specifically asked that provision be made –”

“Yes, but you are seated a row in front – surely it can’t cause that much of a problem?”

“Look,” Robin said softly, trying her best to sound reasonable, “I know it’s probably difficult for you to understand but yes, it
can
cause that much of a problem. Please understand that I’m not blaming you, but I did make the request at the time of booking and I was assured …” She trailed off, spotting a woman seated in the row next to them blatantly trying to eavesdrop. “If you could just take a look at the seating arrangements, and find out if they have earmarked a zone for me, I would really appreciate it. Or perhaps we could just change seats with someone else?” Robin smiled graciously, hoping her polite approach would work.

“I’ll see what I can do,” the stewardess said, heading for the top of the aisle.

Robin felt all eyes on her as she stood there waiting for the other woman’s return, and despite her protestation that she could deal with the matter herself, she was relieved when Ben joined her.

“What’s happening? Are they going to move us?”

“We’ll soon find out,” she said, seeing the stewardess approach. But by her expression, Robin knew immediately that her booking request had been ignored. It was the same old story.

“I’m afraid that an area hasn’t been assigned, ma’am,” the stewardess said apologetically. “I really don’t know what happened at reservations. Obviously they didn’t pass on the request to the check-in desk. And as this is such a small aircraft …” She trailed off as if to imply that in such a cramped space, an assigned zone might not make much of a difference anyway.

“I can’t believe this,” Ben interjected hotly. “It’s the same thing every time we fly with this lot – how come AA can get it done, Delta can get it done, but your crowd –”

“Ben calm down,” Robin soothed, although she was just as frustrated as he was. Trust her issues to ruin their weekend away – again. She really didn’t know how he put up with her sometimes. “Look,” she said to the stewardess, “I specifically requested it when booking and they assured me it would be fine.”

“I think they may have misinterpreted things,” the stewardess said. “What if I just ask the passenger in question to put them away for the duration of the flight? We don’t serve them as a rule anyway these days. Would that help?”

Robin hated the way people looked at her as if she was an over-hysterical hypochondriac of some sort – the way the stewardess was looking at her now. But people didn’t realise that she wasn’t just looking for attention or some kind of special treatment. “That’s all we can do at this stage, I suppose,” she said wearily, but one look at Ben as they followed the stewardess back down towards their seats told her that he was fit to burst. Robin kept her distance as he and the stewardess approached the occupants of the seats behind Row 10.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” the stewardess said pleasantly to a middle-aged woman, accompanied by what must be her husband and their young son. “Really sorry to inconvenience you, but I wonder if I could request that your son put his snack away for the duration of this flight, or if maybe we could move you all to another seat near the front? We have a particular passenger onboard today –”

“Whaddya mean?” The woman’s eyes narrowed. “I booked this seat ‘specially ‘cos with my kidneys I have to be near the little girls’ room. Anyway, what’s the problem? National security mean no-one’s allowed eat on these things anymore?”

“No no, that’s not it at all, ma’am,” said the stewardess soothingly. “We’ll be serving a variety of refreshments once airborne and some complimentary snacks, so if you could –”

“They better be complimentary – and not at those darn New York prices!” the woman’s husband butted in rudely. “Anyway, the engine hasn’t even started runnin’ yet and my boy here is hungry.” He glared at the stewardess. “I don’t see any signs around here saying you shouldn’t eat when you’re hungry.” With that, he reached forward and took a packet of peanuts out of his seat-pouch. Instinctively, Robin shirked backwards.

“I’m just making a polite request for you to put those away, sir,” the stewardess repeated her plea. “I understand your confusion but you’ve refused to move, and we have a passenger with a medical condition seated in front of you today.”

The man leaned forward and looked up at Ben. “What, you addicted to junk food or somethin’?” he sneered.

“No my girlfriend’s allergic to peanuts,” Ben announced loudly. “Your peanut dust can bring on a reaction and the airline,” he said, turning to the stewardess, “like most airlines these days is obliged to provide a peanut-free zone for sufferers like her.”

“Ben, calm down,” Robin said mortified, as everyone in the immediate vicinity turned to look. Further down the plane, heads began to pop up here and there, trying to see what all the commotion was about. Sensing an escalation of the scene, another stewardess moved towards them.

“Well, I ain’t offering her no peanuts, am I?” the man asked, puzzled.

“That’s not it,” Ben explained. “She’s hypersensitive. She can be affected simply by being as close to them as I am now.”

“Well, it ain’t my fault if people can’t control themselves,” the man went on, unmoved by Ben’s pleas. “I paid my fare same as everyone else, and nobody’s gonna tell me what I can and can’t do.” As if to prove his point, he opened the fresh bag and put a handful of peanuts in his mouth.

“Please, sir, we’re about to take off and again, I’m really sorry for the inconvenience but –”

“Hey,” he said, raising his voice and looking nastily at the stewardess.

Ben reddened in anger and Robin could see him struggling to control his temper.

“Me and my family ain’t had nuthin’ to eat since this morning and we’re
hungry
. We’re not movin’ and I ain’t puttin’ away no peanuts, my wife ain’t puttin’ away no peanuts, and my son ain’t puttin’ away no peanuts for some stuck-up Park Avenue Princess – so there.” He sat back, and his wife looked at him approvingly, apparently satisfied that her husband was the right man to put these troublesome city-slickers in their place.

“She could have a serious reaction, you idiot,” Ben hissed at him, unable to keep his temper in check any longer.

“Hey, who you callin’ an idiot, son?” the man said, standing up and dwarfing Ben with his huge frame.

Ben didn’t flinch. “You heard me.” His chest rose as he squared up to him.

“Sirs, I really must ask that you –”

“Ben leave it, please…” Robin was upset now, having experienced embarrassing scenes like this many times before, although none as confrontational as this one.

“No Robin, this guy is totally out of order. Who the hell does he think he is?”

“It’s not his fault.” She looked at the man’s wife imploringly, but was afraid to come any closer for fear of what she held in her hand. “I’m sorry – I know it’s not your fault.”

The wife seemed to see the genuine fear in Robin’s eyes, and immediately she closed the bag of peanuts and put them away. “Sit down, Max,” she said sternly to her husband, who amazingly after a few seconds complied, though he and Ben were still glaring angrily at one another.

“We didn’t mean any harm,” the woman said to Robin and then to the stewardess. “But my boy here, he gets antsy when he’s hungry and so does Max. We got these peanuts in the airport. We really didn’t mean any harm. And with my kidneys, we really can’t move seats.”

“That’s OK ma’am, but we need to take off soon. Now if you and your husband could just put those away there shouldn’t be any more problems.”

“If you people had assigned a peanut-free zone like you were asked, there wouldn’t
be
a problem,” Ben said, his voice shaking with anger. “But you just don’t care, do you? You just pack in as many idiots are you can fit – who cares if one of them becomes seriously ill because of your negligence?”

If there was one thing that struck fear into the heart of every airline, it was the suspicion of negligence.

“Sir I appreciate your distress,” the other stewardess spoke up then, “but really we must get going –”

“But really nothing,” Ben was in full flight, which is more than could be said for the rest of the passengers on Flight 81268. “It’s totally unacceptable and I won’t have it.”

He stood up and, to Robin’s horror, opened the overhead locker and removed their luggage. “Come on, Robin, we’re going,”

“What?”

“Sir, if you could just –”

“I said, we’re going. I’ve had enough of this – why should we have to put up with it? She made a request, she explained the danger and they ignored her. So forget it. You can bet this is the last time I fly with this godforsaken airline!”

Robin looked from Ben to the stewardess, to the peanut-crunchers and back to Ben again, but at that stage she didn’t care where they went as long as it was out of here, away from all the staring, the pointing, the whispered remarks.

“Come on love,” Ben said, leading her along the aisle towards the doorway. “We don’t have to put up with this kind of carry-on.”