Ten Men by Alexandra Gray

Author:Alexandra Gray
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grove Atlantic
Published: 2004-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

‘Remember that registration number. This is his favourite plane and he hates it when they get confused.’

‘How many aeroplanes does he have?’

‘Five.’

Low-key indeed. I followed Eva aboard. The captain, a big man with grey hair, greeted me formally, reserving ‘Hiya’ and a hug for Eva.

‘Secretaries sit at the back. The last two seats are for the crew. He’ll call you up to the front if he wants you,’ said Eva.

The Billionaire was already in the cockpit going through the pre-flight check.

‘He always flies the plane for take-off and landing, which gives us a break,’ she said, expiring into a smooth leather seat and clicking the belt around her waist. She rested back and shut her eyes, instantly asleep. She slept deeply throughout take-off, and exactly one minute before the Billionaire emerged from the cockpit, sprang awake with radar sensitivity. She seemed to have her own automatic pilot.

‘An overview of the companies, to read asap,’ she said, handing me two files. ‘We don’t normally give so much information at this stage, but that’s the way he wants to play it with you. Please sign the confidentiality agreement.’

Above the low grey sky that covers London in January, we flew into intransigent blue, not a cloud in it. When we reached our cruising altitude, the steward prepared a table at the front of the plane. Eva looked up from her stack of papers.

‘No sandwiches for us today,’ she said to me. ‘Looks like the boss wants company for lunch. That hasn’t happened for a while.’

As anticipated, the Billionaire beckoned for us to sit one on either side of him. In the same cavalier style he then called to the steward down the plane, ‘Okay, Mickey, I’m starving. Let’s go. Move it.’

His easy-going mood was infectious, and I joined in with the staff laughing at his jokes. It would take a while for me to realize that it was all a charade, the people who surrounded the Billionaire were willing to be what he wanted them to be. It all came down to money, and nobody but the boss could afford to be himself.

Mickey produced a plate of smoked salmon and offered wine, which the Billionaire declined – so everybody else did too. The Chablis – it would have been delicious – was returned to the fridge. The boss raised a forkful of salmon to his mouth, and from the window behind him cerulean sky encircled the delicate pink. Surreal colours at 45,000 feet promised the end of my transit van days.

‘Do you know Vienna?’ he asked.

‘No,’ I said.

‘And what about the opera?’

‘I’ve never been.’

‘Eva, get extra tickets for this evening. We’ll all go.’

Eva noted this in the pad attached to her as securely as a fifth limb.

‘What’s on tonight?’

‘La Bohème,’ she said.

‘You’ll have to tell me whether you’re a Mimi or a Musetta,’ the Billionaire said to me.

I didn’t have a clue then that he was referring to La Bohème, the frail serious Mimi, who dies without realizing love, and the goodhearted, goodtime girl Musetta, whose pretty party dresses are paid for by old patrons.

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