Chapter 7 – Interlude in the Lavatory: Part 2

Half an hour of sitting in silence, and Sybil decided enough was enough.

She searched around in her carry-on for a writing implement, finally finding a ballpoint pen inside a pocket. In the margin of one of the pages of the in-flight magazine, she wrote a couple sentences, pressing hard so that the letters were readable. Discreetly, she tore the message away from the rest of the page and, with her heart in her mouth, slipped it into Tom's lap.

He didn't seem to notice it immediately, or made any attempt to draw attention to it. But he'd surely notice it lying on his trouser leg as Sybil unbuckled her seat belt.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I have to go to the lavatory again."

Just as before, Tom unbuckled his seatbelt as well, asking, "Are you sure you're alright?"

Sybil shrugged, feigning embarrassment. "Female emergency," she explained quietly.

Tom nodded, understanding to what Sybil was hinting at. As Sybil pushed through the row, she glanced down and noticed the scrap of paper sitting on Tom's seat, where he'd be more than likely to see it.

"Thanks," she mumbled, walking hastily towards the aft lavatory so Tom wouldn't suspect a thing – at least right at this moment.

This time, the lavatory was vacant, and she speedily shoved open the door and turned on the light. Now all there was to do was wait, and hope she wasn't making a fool of herself.

Tom would no doubt understand what he wanted her to do. The instructions she had written on the paper were quite clear:

"Wait three minutes, then check that none of the flight attendants are looking. Knock three times on the lavatory door."

Whether or not he would follow through was up to him.

Sybil decided that she'd wait for ten minutes inside the lavatory, and then assume that he thought she was being a prat and leave, and give up all hope of ever having anything to do with him when the plane landed in London. If he did decide to follow her instructions, then she'd let him in once she heard the three knocks – and then things would go from there.

As long as the flight attendants didn't get suspicious, they'd be able to talk in private, which was what Sybil needed.

She kept track of the minutes on her watch. The first three ticked by, but she figured that Tom wouldn't knock for a few more, just to be sure that no one was watching. She knew how flight attendants were these days – they were probably snide about the fact that she and Tom were getting on so well when they obviously weren't in a relationship. They would have noticed that they had boarded the plane separately and were obviously strangers.

Another minute ticked by.

What if I am being silly about this? Sybil cringed. She had never heard of any real relationship that had started because two people who shared a drink and maybe some flirtations ended up sitting together on a late-night flight. It was definitely weird, even to her – and how would it seem to other people? The image of Mary rolling her eyes and scoffing at her blind faith popped into her head.

Sybil put down the toilet seat and sat down as another minute passed. It was now five minutes gone, half the opportunity gone. Was there a flight attendant in the nearby galley with an fixed eye on Tom? Was he outside the lavatory at all? Or what if there was somebody else in line in front of him—?

Tap tap tap.

Sybil shot up from the toilet seat and pressed herself against the lavatory door. She couldn't see out of any of the gaps in the door, so she slid the bolt aside, slowly, and opened up a tiny crack.

Tom was there, and she almost smile from the relief. She opened the door wider and motioned him inside. "Quick, before somebody sees you."

Limbs shuffling to make room for another person in the tiny lavatory, Tom wedged himself through the door and shut it behind him, shoving the bolt back to the 'occupied' position. He turned around to face Sybil, who had to stand only a few inches away from him in order to avoid standing over the toilet bowl and making things even more awkward than they already were. The two of them were in an airplane lavatory together for heaven's sake, and fairly likely to be accused of being members of the mile-high club.

"So?" Tom whispered, evidently also apprehensive of someone listening in. "What is it?"

Sybil hesitated, hoping she wouldn't sound like a blithering idiot to him. She had been taking a big risk by asking him to meet her inside the lavatory, and she couldn't screw things up between him and her. He must be bewildered just from standing in here with her, his nose literally a couple inches from hers.

"Tom, I'm just going to come out and say it," she blurted out. "I like you. I like you a lot. And I honestly do not want to get off this plane and say good-bye and have that be that. I want to see you again, or email or call, whatever works for you. But I don't want to force anything between us to move too quickly, or at all if you think I'm being an idiot about it."

Tom stared at her, wide-eyed, as she regained her breath. His mouth twitched but he couldn't seem to say anything.

"Listen, I'm sorry for putting you in this spot," Sybil sighed. "I know it's probably awkward, but that conversation we had before, about not feeling like proper strangers – I just feel like if we got off the plane and never saw each other again, we'd be doing something so wrong. Like we'd regret it for a long time afterwards. And I … I had to tell you that."

She looked at him helplessly, hoping he'd say something in response. He still seemed beyond words.

Sybil sighed again. "I'm sorry. If you think I'm being stupid or this isn't worth it, you can go. You can go back to your seat and I promise I won't bother you again. We'll get off this plane and never see each other again. But I had to say something to you."

Tom's forehead crinkled, as if he had forgotten how to understand English. Sybil let out an exasperated groan. "I knew it! I knew I was being an idiot—"

"No, wait," Tom suddenly cut in. "I'm just trying to understand something. What sort of … relationship are we talking about here? Friendship? Romance?" He said the last word in a whisper.

Sybil threw her hands up. "I don't know! I mean, I think you and I are friends right now, and in time we could be really good friends. But with romance … I certainly don't want to take things too fast, or at all if you aren't comfortable with that. I just … I want to see you again."

There was silence between them, and Sybil hoped that Tom wouldn't turn away and leave her alone in the lavatory. She was certain she had only confused him further – why hadn't she planned out what she was going to say in a more comprehensible way?

He leaned against the door, eyes towards the ceiling, and then he breathed a sigh of relief. A smile spread over his face.

"What?" Sybil asked.

Tom shrugged his shoulders. "I'm just glad that it was you who said it. I wouldn't have had the guts."

Sybil gaped. "Are you saying … that you were thinking the same thing."

"Pretty much!" Tom laughed.

"Shh!" Sybil hissed. Anyone could pass by the lavatory or hear them.

"Sorry," Tom mouthed. "So what now?"

Sybil exhaled slowly – even with what she said about going into a romantic relationship with Tom in the future, she figured it would be best for both of them if she lay her cards on the table now.

"I know that I said that a romantic relationship might be taking things too fast," Sybil said, "but I think I need to tell you upfront, before we're even considering anything."

"What is it?"

Her heart hammering inside her chest, Sybil tugged down the collar of her shirt. Tom raised an eyebrow initially, but when he saw what Sybil was pointing at on skin he became more concerned, if still perplexed.

"Jesus," he murmured. He gaped at it for a few seconds. "Did someone do that to you?"

Sybil nodded. She felt strangely calm, she didn't think she'd cry at all even though talking about the scar out loud was going to bring up some very painful memories.

"I've been in serious relationships before," she explained. "The last time I was in one I was still in medical school. It lasted for a few months, but it ended a year ago. The guy's name was Larry Grey."

"Sounds … like a real charmer," Tom said, grimacing.

"He was, at first. We met at a bar near the university a couple times, he asked me out on a few dates, and eventually we started … getting serious about our relationship." Sybil's smile was wry.

"So what happened?" Tom asked.

It was horrible just thinking about it, but Sybil couldn't retreat now. "A year ago I was finishing up school, and I was studying nearly all the time. I was seeing him less often than he liked. He phoned me every night telling me I needed to stop and see him, but passing those exams were so important to me. More than anything I wanted to be a nurse, and I couldn't think of myself doing anything else."

"Of course you did," Tom said.

Sybil frowned slightly. "Huh?"

"I mean I – I get that being a nurse is really important to you. You'd obviously be studying very hard," Tom quickly said.

"Yeah, you're right. It was so important to me," Sybil agreed. "But the more he kept nagging me to spend time with him, I started thinking that maybe I didn't want to be in a relationship with him anymore. I just … I didn't feel anything with him any more. And he was really getting on my nerves."

Tom nodded, understanding.

Sybil inhaled deeply, leaning against the sink just to feel stable. "So on the day of my final exams, I decided I was going to go over to his house and tell him that he and I were over. I took the exam, I drove to his house, he got me a cup of tea. Then I told him to sit down and listen to me carefully.

"I tried not to sound too rough, but I needed him to know that I was serious. He didn't take it well. First, he kept saying that he forgave me for being so worked up about my exams. When I tried to tell him that it wasn't just because of my exams, that I didn't believe we were right for each other, he told me I was tired and needed to relax. It went on for what seemed like hours."

She paused for breath, to check that she was still alright. Her heart was beating hard. Tom glanced back down to her exposed scar, anticipating that she was getting to the reason for its conception.

"Eventually, I gave up and walked out. He followed me outside, all the way to my car. I didn't realize what he was going to do until I saw that he had grabbed a pair of scissors that had been lying on the kitchen table."

Tom's eyes widened in horror. "No way," he breathed, looking down at the scar again.

"Yeah," Sybil confirmed.

Her fingers traced around the outline of the scar. Her voice became distant as she lost herself in the memory of that awful day.

"He slammed me against the car door, telling me I needed to sort my thick head out. He held the scissors close to my throat the whole time he was yelling at me. I was an ungrateful bitch, a gold-digger, all sorts of things. It was the middle of the day, and no one saw what he was doing.

"I fought back finally, but he was a lot bigger than I was. He pushed me to the ground, we wrestled a bit. I tried to scream for help but he grabbed my throat. And then at some point the scissors slipped."

Tom cringed; he was clearly envisioning the point of the scissors slicing into her skin. Sybil herself could still feel the sting when she recalled it, even though at the time she hadn't felt the pain for several seconds.

"Then he ran away. I could hardly breathe, and it took forever for me to climb back into the car and drive to the emergency room. I was still bleeding when I got there. I said that I had slipped against the edge of my car door."

"You didn't tell anyone that he had attacked you?"

Sybil shook her head. "I don't know why I didn't. And I never told anyone afterwards. Larry didn't come after me or contact me again, which I suppose was a good thing. But I was still afraid he'd decide to find me. That's partly why I decided to work in Atlanta rather than one of the London hospitals."

"Jesus Christ," Tom swore. "That bastard."

Sybil tugged her shirt back over the scar, concealing it again. "Ever since then, I've been trying to convince myself of one thing, over and over," she said.

There was a beat of silence as Tom waited her for her to say it. She hesitated, and so he took a guess. "That it wasn't your fault?"

"No," Sybil answered. "Well, partly that. I did blame myself a little afterwards, wonder if I should have broken up with him differently. Then I realized that there was no good reason he should have attacked me. But no, that's not the main thing.

"Then what were you trying to convince yourself?"

Sybil looked at Tom square in the eye. It had been the same hard stare she had used to tell Larry that it was over between them. "That it would never happen again."

Tom at first didn't quite get at what she was implying, but then the realization spread over his face. "Oh. I understand. I get it."

"Do you?" Sybil wanted to be sure.

"Yes. You don't want to be hurt again. You need to be sure you can trust whoever you're with."

Sybil, satisfied with his answer, nodded. "Yeah, that's about it. That's why … I'm hesitant about the idea of being in a serious relationship again. It's that I don't want to be in one – I'd actually like that very much – but I don't know if I'm mentally ready for another one. So that's what I thought you should know."

She and Tom looked at each other for a silent minute. Absently Sybil wondered just how long they had been in the lavatory. Was there someone standing outside, waiting to be let in?

Tom sighed, but he smiled reassuringly at Sybil. "Whatever you think should happen between the two of us, it's your call. If you want to have a romantic relationship, or just be friends for a little while, I'm not going to force you into anything. If you tell me to walk out of your life forever, I won't put up a fight."

Sybil smiled, glad he was being so considerate and sensitive. It was like a great big weight being lifted off her shoulders, that she had finally told the truth about her injury, that someone understood her hesitation about romance, that someone finally understood her.

Tom brought his voice low. "You know, we can talk about what to later, but right now I think we should get out of here before someone knocks the door down."

Sybil glanced cautiously towards the door. "Someone probably has heard us talking in here."

"If anyone asks, I'll take the blame," Tom said as he slowly unlatched the door.

"You don't have to do that," Sybil said. "I'm the one that made you come in here."

Tom fully unlocked the door and stepped outside into the corridor first, checking that there was no one outside waiting. "Come on," he whispered, motioning for Sybil to come out of the lavatory. "I think the coast is clear."

Sybil stepped outside and shut the lavatory door. She and Tom were about to hurry back to their seats when—

"Excuse me!"

Both of them whirled around. A more stern-faced flight attendant appeared in the galley, hands on hips.

"This isn't a motel," she said severely.

Sybil and Tom froze. Sybil pressed her lips together to keep from bursting out laughing. Of course this was going to happen. Shit.

Tom nodded curtly. "Sure. Sorry about that. Won't happen again."

He gave Sybil a little shove in the direction of the main cabin. She could barely keep a straight face as she made her way down the aisle and sidled back into her seat.

"So," Tom remarked as he buckled himself in again. "That went well."

Sybil gave a little snort. "Did they really think that we did 'it'? We didn't even kiss in there for God's sake."

"It's all the same to them," Tom said.