Claimed for Christmas

Chapter Six

I wheel my suitcase into the airport, squeezing through the huge body of people who are trying to navigate their way to their check in desks.

I follow the signs located above our heads for the area toward my airlines check in area. When I reach them, I glance around, spotting the economy line immediately, as the queue of frustrated travellers snakes through the retractable belt barriers and out into the walkway. Premium is to my right, the queue not as long, and more, business suits over matching Christmas jumpers and kids pouting whilst their parents shout at them to smile whilst they take a photo for social media, and inform them that they are supposed to be happy because it’s the holidays.

I keep walking, passing a couple with a child who looks to be about five that is sooo over the airport already. He’s lying flat on his back, kicking his legs as he wails that he doesn’t want to go and see Grandma. Same dude, same, I think as I look away, not wanting to make the stressed parents feel any worse than they no doubt already do, they both look exasperated as they stare down at him in defeat, I don’t think this is the first meltdown they’ve dealt with today. Honestly, I can’t blame the kid, I get him, I don’t want to go and see my family either, why do we do this to ourselves? I pat my fist to my chest in silent solidarity to my miniature kindred spirit, appreciating him voicing how I think a lot of us feel right now in this organised hell we’ve willingly forced upon ourselves.

I finally reach the last check in desk area, a much smaller queue that leads to a woman sitting under a sign stating first class. I’m about to step into the line when I’m bumped from behind, stumbling forward. I turn my head to find a man in an expensively tailored suit, barking into a cell phone as he stalks past me.

‘Watch yourself’ he snaps at me, his gaze running over my attire as I raise an eyebrow challengingly. ‘I think you are in the wrong place’ he adds, ‘you’ll find economy is over there,’ he jerks his chin toward the never ending line behind me, ‘this queue is for those of us flying First Class’

‘Actually . .’ I start but the asshole has already tuned me out, back to his conversation as he wheels his designer suitcase down the short walkway to the awaiting check in clerk.

I blow out a breath, ‘let it go Elijah,’ I mutter to myself as I follow him, I’m flying first class, I don’t need to let a jumped up arrogant piss ant dull the shine of this moment for me.

I wait at the line taped on the carpeted floor until Mr self important finishes checking in, the d**k not bothering to so much as acknowledge the woman at the counter as he talks loudly about some meeting he needs scheduled.

Finally, he moves out of the way, and I step up, smiling at the clerk who looks a little surprised before she returns it.

‘Good morning Penelope’ I chirp, noting her name plate pinned to her chest, ‘I’m taking the flight to Denver Colorado this morning, and I would like to check in if that isn’t too much bother.’

The clerk’s smile widens as she holds out her hand for my passport, ‘of course sir, it would be a pleasure to help you today,’ she replies professionally, ‘do you have any luggage with you that you would like to check in?’

I nod, lifting up my suitcase for her to see, it’s not large or heavy, but I don’t see why I should bother carrying it around the airport with me if I don’t have too.

‘Perfect, if you could pop it on the scales for me . . .’ she requests, as she swipes my passport through the reader and presses some buttons on her keyboard, her nails clicking against the keys. Seconds later the small printer on her desk flickers to life printing out an oblong piece of card, which the woman ignores whilst she instead focuses on attaching a tag to the handle of my bag with a posh dark blue label that proclaims first class. As I watch her, I’m not sure I’m ever going to remove that from the handle if I’m honest with you, I quite like the thought of people knowing I flew first class even if it will only be the once.

The printer stops as she presses the flashing button built into her desk, starting up the conveyor belt underneath my case. I watch as my property trundles to the back of the short space and disappears through some hanging plastic that covers what goes on behind the scenes.

The check in clerk, pulls off the thin sheet that turns out to be my boarding pass, tucking it between the front page and cover of my passport before she hands it back to me.

‘Your gate will come up on the screens in the departure lounge’ she tells me, ‘or if you prefer to wait in our first class lounge, which is located on the first floor, you’ll find all flight information on the boards beside the entrance, and there will be Tannoy announcements over the intercom for you.’

‘Thank you’ I reply, taking my passport and tucking it into the small man bag I have slung over my chest.

‘No problem sir, have a lovely flight’ she tells me, beaming as I grin.

‘And you have a lovely day, Penelope, I hope everyone who comes through your check in desk is as wonderful as you have been this morning’ I tell her, winking as she giggles before stepping to the side, and letting the next traveller take my place.