He said she was talking about package holidays and that was quite different.

Only in your head, she said. She asked him what his next flight was.

He said SA841. Emma said good, she was booked on that flight, they’d go down together.

Johansson said he wasn’t about to . . . He asked her why she didn’t take pills, or jump off a building.

She said, “Haven’t you been listening?”

207

Emma had sat on SA841 and hoped it would be the last journey she’d ever take. A kamikaze passenger. She’d read that kamikaze pilots wore a new uniform on their flights, so she’d bought a new top and new pair of trainers.

She spoke to the person in the seat next to her, an elderly gentleman called Ronald Henderson, about death. She asked him if he’d ever thought of suicide and he said oh yes, many times. She clapped her hands and wanted to go into the cockpit and assure Graham that his passengers all had the same aspirations.

Emma told Ronald Henderson that the pilot was a personal friend who was going to crash them all into the Wellington Arms and Ronald should think of some appropriate last words to utter. Ronald thought it was unlikely, pilots were very well adjusted. Emma said this one wasn’t. Said this was a suicide flight.

Ronald said he felt sorry for the other passengers. Emma said he shouldn’t feel that way. She said if you talked to anyone long enough they’ll tell you they think about dying. She said that people weren’t afraid of dying, they were afraid of wanting to die. The two were often confused.

206

Then a voice had come over the cabin PA. Emma had been looking forward to this part, it would be the voice of God, she thought. But no. It was the voice of someone called Andrew.

“This is your captain speaking. I would like to welcome you blah blah blah.”

Johansson had changed his shifts.

Emma was disappointed.

Ronald was disappointed.

SA841 landed with barely a bump.

Ronald said he wanted to die on public transport so they took a taxi to the train station. She didn’t want to push him but she would watch if he wanted. He said no. He would feel self-conscious.

Emma understood. She left him there and took the taxi to the Wellington Arms just in time to see John blow his head off for a great big gag.

She left the Wellington and tried to get herself run over in an underpass but the driver was too good.

205

The splitter Johansson. Dishonorable Johansson. She’d rung Penny’s flat.

Sobbing.

“Pick up, you bastard, I know you’re there.”

More sobbing.

“I’m coming back. I’m coming back, okay? Stay where you are. Don’t fucking move.”

She kicked the telephone box. Her trainer flew off.

“Bloody bloody stupid . . .”

More sobs.

“Why is this happening? Penny, don’t let him leave.”

Fip pip pip pip . . .