Trisha was exhausted. She had booked a morning flight to London, which she regretted now. She walked through the aisle, looking for her seat. The flight was fully booked, so she was told when she had checked her bags. Trisha opened the overhead compartment and stored her small safety bag. A bag she always took with her when she was flying in case her suitcase did not arrive. Luckily, the seat next to her was still empty. She hated it when she had to ask people to stand up. Trisha sat down and fastened her seat belt. She felt tired and hoped that she would catch some sleep during the flight.
She closed her eyes and heard the engines roaring and people putting their luggage in the overhead compartments in the background. A child was singing a song; he sounded cheerful. She opened her eyes and looked outside when someone sat down and bumped her elbow. She turned her gaze to the right and looked straight into the eyes of a man in his thirties, so she guessed. He was tall, wearing a slim-fit blue suit and a crisp white shirt with no tie.
“Sorry, but these seats are too small.” He apologized.
“It is okay,” said Trisha in a low voice. She could smell his perfume. It was sweet yet masculine. His dark hair was combed backward.
Trisha was not in the mood for a conversation with a stranger. She crossed her hands, glanced at her watch, and closed her eyes. The flight would depart in five minutes, and in 45 minutes, she would be in London. She already pictured herself strolling through the streets of London, going for a walk in Hyde Park, and having tea at a café when her thoughts were interrupted by an announcement from the pilot.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re just finishing some paperwork and should be underway shortly…”
The man beside her sighed. “In other words, our flight has been delayed.”
Trisha opened her eyes and looked at the man. Should she say something? “Is it? That is not what he said.”
He smiled and looked at her. “Trust me. We are not taking off in the next 5 minutes.
Trisha nodded, closed her eyes again, and dozed off. When she woke twenty minutes later, there was still no sign of the plane taking off. The man beside her was staring at his laptop screen. Finally, she heard the captain saying:
“Cabin crew, please take your seats for take-off.”
The man beside her looked at Trisha. “I told you we were delayed.” He closed his laptop and stored it in his designer laptop bag.
“So you did,” said Trisha while she took a ‘mint’ from her bag and popped it in her mouth.
“Hi, I am Luca; nice to meet you.”
Trisha pressed her lips and finally mumbled, “I am Trisha.” She got the magazine she bought for the airport bookstore from her leather tote bag and looked at the cover. Would he get her hint that she was not willing to talk to him?
She looked out the window at the platform where people were doing their jobs. Her thoughts drifted away to the wedding a few weeks ago. She had enjoyed the evening with her friends and Sid. She felt a fluttering sensation in her stomach, and she smiled. Should she have called him? But then again, he could have called her. “Why would he want to talk to you? He can have any woman he wants.” said her inner voice.
She sighed deeply and flipped through the magazine, scanning the articles and pages. She was not in the mood to read.
“So, are you on a business trip?”
Trisha looked at her fellow passenger, trying not to look annoyed. Couldn’t he gasp that she did not want to talk? Trisha shook her head. “No leisure,” she said without even looking up.
“London is a beautiful city. It never bores.” The men answered.
“Yes, it is,” said Trisha, flipping through her magazine. Did he get the message now?
“Lucky you, I am on a business trip. I will spare you the details.”
Trisha didn’t respond.
“Are you Indian?” Luca looked at Trisha.
Trisha closed her magazine and looked the man in the eyes. “Yes,” she said, “and you?” She tried hard not to sound annoyed. She should not have asked where he was from. How could she be that stupid?
“I am Italian, born and raised in Italy.”
“Italy is my favourite vacation destination.” She blurted out, regretting it at the same time.
Luca smiled. “I love the Indian culture and Indian ladies. They are beautiful.” He looked intensely at Trisha.
Trisha blushed and fell, her cheeks getting warm. Was he flirting with her?
“We Italians and Indians have the same thing in common: family and food.” Don’t you think so? He looked at her with a genuine smile.
Trisha paused for a few seconds. “I love Italian food. Pasta is my favourite.”
“Well, I should take you to my favourite Italian restaurant in London.”
Trisha stayed quiet, not knowing what to say. She looked at confused at Luca.
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