Infinite sky

Christine gripped her passport and boarding card tightly, expecting someone at any moment to rip them out of her hand and tear them up. She had come so far, yet it seemed that she would somehow fall at this final hurdle. She gazed back at the security station where she had passed through the detectors with no fuss.

It had all gone so smoothly, too smoothly really; getting the money, then the tickets; the hurriedly packed and hidden suitcase. The taxi was on time; no traffic, no breakdowns, the flight wasn’t delayed. Now here she was, just waiting for them to open the doors and usher her and her fellow passengers onto the plane she could see through the window, gleaming white; huge, yet graceful, full of promise.

Her mind slipped back three days, or was it four? Sat at the kitchen table, her head throbbing, blood trickling from her left eye. Ten packets of pills strewn across the table, around a pint glass of water. Ten packets: one hundred and sixty tiny white tablets. Voices on the radio burbled away in another world.

“It’s your own fault, love,” he had told her gently, almost apologetic. “I wouldn’t have to do this if you could just get things right. But when you make mistakes, you need to learn. It’s very important to learn from your mistakes, isn’t it? To take some responsibility.”

Well, if she had to take responsibility for him doing that to her, then she could take responsibility for stopping him. She could take herself somewhere where she couldn’t be hurt. She made herself a promise that he wouldn’t hurt her again.

She picked up a packet and popped the pills out one by one, then another packet and another, lining them up in neat rows. She stared at them for a long time, thinking what they would feel like going down her throat. How long would it take? Could she stop herself throwing them back up again?

And if it worked, what was waiting for her on the other side? And could it be worse than her life now?

“The other side of the world.”

The phrase broke into her thoughts and she glanced sharply at the radio. A woman was talking, explaining how she gave up her life in England and emigrated to New Zealand. “So far away,” she said. “A fresh start.”

The woman sounded so happy, so free as she described her new home. “In the middle of nowhere,” she said, “and the sky just goes on forever.”

Christine looked down at the tablets. She frowned, then shook her head. She got up, took a bowl from the draining board, slid the pills into it and deposited them in the bin. Then she made her plans.

“Would passengers with boarding numbers one to eighty please come forward. Have your passports and boarding passes ready for inspection.”

Christine floated past the artificial smiles of the air hostess, down the long tunnel, and onto the plane. Through the window she watched the men in their fluorescent jackets and ear defenders pulling the tunnel away from the plane door. Announcements and safety procedures washed over her. Then they were moving, turning away from the airport building.

Her phone rang and she felt her breath catch in her throat. Panicked, she scrambled in her bag and pulled it out. It was him. He’d found out, like he was always going to, and he was going to stop her. Why did she think she could get away like this? She was so stupid.

“Excuse me, Madame, but I am going to have to ask you to turn off your phone now, please.” The stewardess leaned in, firm but kind. She smiled with bright red lips and nodded encouragingly.

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry. No problem,” Christine smiled back and firmly pressed ‘Reject call’. She turned the phone off, put it in her bag and settled back to watch out the window.

A roar began to build, louder and louder till it seemed to fill her head, then a thrilling, sickening jump and they were in the air, the ground dwindling beneath them and ahead of them the infinite sky.