He leaned his head to one side and looked down the aisle toward the front of the plane. All the passengers were seated and only the crew were moving about. He watched as they checked seatbelts, secured bags in the overhead bins, and fussed about the cabin. One flight attendant walked down his aisle, glancing from left to right. She was looking for someone. The woman caught his eye, paused and looked at him for a long second or two. He saw her pause as she noticed his scar—it was a reaction to which he was accustomed—before she swept past him and continued down the cabin. She returned a few seconds later and swished past again. There were two men sitting in the seats immediately ahead of him, and Milton noticed as the man directly in front of him leaned out and followed her progress. Milton overheard the man and his friend egging each other on, their accents giving them away as Australian.

“Look at her,” the man said. “She’s gorgeous.”

“How do you turn a fox into an elephant?” his friend asked.

“Yeah, I know—marry it. Very funny.”

The two continued in the same vein, making no effort to hide their lecherousness or their lack of respect.

The flight attendant disappeared through the curtain that separated economy from business, closing it behind her. The curtain was reopened a fraction later and Milton saw someone peering through it. It closed again as the co-pilot announced that they would shortly leave the gate. Milton closed his eyes and tried to ignore the screams of the small child for whom he had given up his window seat so that the family could sit together. He knew from experience that the minute the flight took off, the screaming would get even louder. He would put his earbuds in as soon as they were up, and listen to some music. He was wondering what he would play—Queens of the Stone Age or The Jesus and Mary Chain—when he noticed the flight attendant had returned to stand next to him.

“Excuse me, sir?”

She had squatted down next to him and was leaning in close to his ear. He could smell her perfume and the mints on her breath.

“Is everything okay?”

“Oh yes,” she said. “I’m very sorry to disturb you.” She spoke in perfect English, with only the faintest trace of an accent. “I’m afraid there has been a mix-up. Could you come with me?”

Milton looked at the woman’s badge. Her name was Amber, and, according to the badge she was wearing, she was the chief purser.

“Of course. Where to?”

“You’re supposed to be in a different seat,” she replied with a faint smile. “I’m ever so sorry for the error, but I’ll take you forward if that’s all right?”