Now Voyager
Despite her many more impressive qualifications, the first thing people notice about Anna Mortimer is that she is beautiful. There are downsides to beauty, but on the whole, Anna feels blessed. From her experience, she has only to smile as she asks for help and people hurry to make her wishes come true. It works as well with women as it does men. Though beauty has been a constant in her life, it took her some time to become aware of it, to identify it as a specific effect. That others choose to put their trust in the beautiful, to believe them kinder or more honest than their plainer counterparts is too big an advantage to throw away. And Anna is quite happy to embrace her good fortune.
Some women come to beauty later in life – the fabled ugly ducklings. They form their sense of their own worth during their plainer days, which leaves them vulnerable to predatory partners. But Anna had been a beautiful baby whose big, dark eyes in a face of small symmetrical features could capture an adult heart in an instant. She had grown tall and lithe, gracious in her gestures. Even in puberty, Anna was favoured, blessed with smooth, blemish-free skin, and she grew into womanhood with no scars, mental or physical.
Anna is aware beauty is transient. One day, she will smile at someone and they will ignore her. Age will have taken its toll and she will be relegated to live life as the vast majority of women, relying on politeness, endearment, or mutual exchange. But awareness and understanding are different. So, until thatday – hopefully far in the future – Anna is content to take advantage of people’s propensity to like her, to trust her and to want her. But she is careful not to be defined by it. She has worked hard to qualify as a registrar in anaesthesia and she intends to become one of the best medics in the world.
Anna, the second of the five daughters of Baron Larkford and his exquisite wife, takes the time to double check she has correctly locked her apartment door. The timer lights are set, the alarm is armed, and the hot water is turned off. Dropping her keys into the capacious handbag that holds her laptop, Anna takes a firm grip on her suitcase and begins a cautious descent of the stairs. Unfortunately, English Heritage’s listing of buildings makes it difficult, though not impossible, to install a lift. But difficult is often sufficient discouragement to a landlord, even if he is your father. Being young and energetic, Anna seldom feels the lack of a lift, despite living on the top floor, but today she could see the benefit as she manhandles her awkward suitcase down the steep, narrow steps from her attic to the broader, grander staircase. It often makes her smile that the family now live in the old servants’ quarters.
When she finally makes it to the roadside, blinking in the Sunday afternoon sunshine, she sees the taxi driver waiting for his customer’s arrival. He’s tapping his fingers with impatience, but the moment he sees her, he transforms from annoyed to obliging. Hauling his substantial girth out of the seat, he is around the vehicle with an ingratiating smile plastered on his face and a “Let me take that for you”, as he pops the boot. In a display of machismo that his own wife has probably not seen for many a year, he hefts the heavy case over the tailgate, his face puce with the required effort. In Anna’s qualified opinion, he is risking a hernia if not a heart attack, but it doesn’t stop him.
She rewards him with a bright smile and a gracious thank you before she slides into the back seat. She makes sure toexaggerate her actions as she fits her earphones – a clear signal she will not be available for small talk – and they begin the uncertain journey through traffic towards London’s biggest airport.
On arrival at their destination, with another rare show of gallantry, the driver hops out of his seat despite being ignored for the entire journey. He hauls her case out of the rear of his vehicle before hitching his jeans back up over his buttocks until the waist button hits the underside of his belly. He slips a card from his pocket into her hand. The card is slightly damp from sweat, moulded to the curve of his backside.
“In case you need a return pickup,” he says and then, with a last flick of his eyes over her body and a lick of his lips, he slides back behind the wheel and drives off.
Anna pulls her case to the terminal, drops the driver’s card into the nearest bin, and searches for a screen to check her flight. Traffic was lighter than expected, so she is early and her flight has no gate information. It gives her time. She makes her way to the airline desk, where three businessmen are already queueing in front of her. A woman with two children joins the queue behind her. The mother is trying to make a call while juggling the baby on her hip, two large cases and an errant toddler. Anna can’t help but overhear.
“I’m at the airline desk now.” And then, in a very testy voice: “I don’t know because I’m not prescient!” The harassed mother disconnects the call in time to intercept her toddler, who’s about to pull one of the retractable barrier posts down on his head. She returns to her position behind Anna, toddler firmly gripped in one hand. She looks hot, sweaty and very unhappy. So does the baby. It is grizzling. Anna reckons it won’t be long before the child is outright bawling.
As the queue shuffles forward, Anna catches the woman’s eye and nods her ahead.
“Really?” The relief is clear, as is the gratitude. Anna steps to the side and lets the little family pass. She takes hold of the woman’s suitcases for her and pulls them forwards. She waits for the two remaining businessmen to do the same, but they studiously ignore the family, suddenly extremely focused on their phones.
Anna has never felt maternal. She has no wish for children. She doesn’t coo at babies or melt at the sight of cute toddlers, but she does understand how hard life can be with infants. Especially when you are on your own.
She stands behind and slightly to the side of the woman. “Bad day,” she prompts. The woman swings around to reply, bringing the grizzling baby inches from the ear of the man in front. He turns his head and scowls briefly but turns back towards the airline desk. Anna concludes, as she often has before, that some men are devoid of kindness.
“They’ve cancelled our flight,” the mother huffs.
As the queue moves forwards, the mother, occupied with finding something for the baby in her tote bag, fails to keep pace. An elderly man, now directly behind Anna, tuts. Anna turns and glares at him, and he has the grace to look abashed.
Finally, the airline clerk waves the mother forwards. Anna says, “Go on. I’ll look after your bags.”
It takes a while for the little family to be processed, and Anna waits patiently. When the woman comes to collect her bags, the baby now happily sucking on a dummy, she gives Anna a weary “Thanks”. Then, calling to the toddler and dragging both bags, she sets off across the airport.
The attendant calls “Next” and Anna moves forwards. She flashes her most winning smile as she places her passport on the counter.
“I’m on the LA flight. I was hoping there might be some seats left in Business Class?”
The attendant looks up, catching the full effect of Anna’s perfect features and naturally aligned teeth. She smiles back. “Let me check for you,” she flicks open the passport, “Ms Mortimer.” The keyboard clicks and the attendant corrects herself, “Oh, Dr Mortimer … you’re in luck. One seat left.”
“How much would it be to upgrade?” Junior doctors in the UK earn a pittance, but unlike others, Anna pays no rent and almost never has to spring for her own entertainment expenses. Long hours leave little opportunity to fritter cash, so she figures she can treat herself today.
The attendant wrinkles her nose and gives a little dip of her head. “No charge. Consider it a courtesy upgrade. For your services to motherhood.”
“That’s very kind. Thank you.” It’s not just her impeccable manners – Anna means it.
Another exchange of smiles occurs as the attendant hands Anna back her passport. Karma is a fickle friend but sometimes it comes through.
Bag checked, she strides off to security. She knows of old that the gorgons who man the X-ray machines and scanners are immune to charm, so she doesn’t bother trying. She has only a laptop bag as a handbag, soft black vegan leather, a surprisingly useful gift from one of her sisters last Christmas. As she extracts her electronics, the man in the queue behind her, his coat already folded and his shoes removed, remarks on the make. But Anna has no interest in technology beyond its effectiveness and reliability. She gives a tight smile and concentrates on sliding her tray forwards until she can step through the scanner.
Except that beauty is never permitted to go unnoticed. He tries again as she reassembles her belongings, an innocuous comment about late night flights. With her head down, this time she says, “Not interested.” Experience has taught her the rebuff needs to be clear, almost brutal, with absolutely no eyecontact. Some women struggle with being continually pursued, but Anna, while she has more empathy than she wants, is not endowed with enough for it to cause her a problem. She feels no guilt in turning down a suitor or cutting an admirer short. She has provided no encouragement. The man could be Paul Rudd for all she knows. She is still not interested. An observer might think her churlish, but any other alternative would give him enough hope to follow her through the terminal. She would love to scream at him,I do not want your attention. I did not ask for it. Do not give it.
But that would be regarded as beyond rude. It is a source of frequent irritation to Anna that she should have to care about his ego and his feelings when he cares nothing for hers. She issues her calm but clear rejection, while keeping her inner bitch chained, and walks away.
Anna is looking forward to the perks of her upgrade as she peels away from Security and heads for the Business Class lounge. The hubbub of the airport disappears as she pushes through the heavy glass doors. A quiet background murmur broken by the occasional bro laugh greets her. She checks in with the attendant, then drops her coat on a chair and heads for food.
