“Give me that. You haven’t earned in twenty-five years. Be grateful.”
The woman behind us in the queue looked at the floor.
The girl at the desk looked at her screen and did not lift her head, and I have thought about her since, because she was about nineteen and it was not her job to say anything and I could see she wanted to.
Nobody said one word.
And I said, “Right,” and took the pass back off him, and went and found gate eleven.
For four hours I sat in row thirty-four between a man doing a crossword and a woman who slept with her mouth open, and my husband drank champagne on the other side of a curtain, and it was our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.
Then the intercom went.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is the captain. Could Mrs. Marit Halloway please remain in her seat until a member of cabin crew reaches you. We’d like to bring you forward. Mrs. Halloway, economy cabin.”
