"Wow." Bonnie shook her head in wonderment at the luxurious seat before her. Plush leather upholstery gleamed in the cabin lights.
"First time in business class?" the question came from the dusky-skinned woman in the window seat. She gave Bonnie a friendly smile.
"Yeah. First time flying to Europe, too." The former cheerleader nodded as she stowed her carry-on bag in the overhead compartment. She has an accent. Indian maybe? Dressed in a smart skirt-suit, the other woman looked about ten years Bonnie's elder. Fantastic legs, too. Realizing she was staring, Bonnie quickly jerked her gaze up to the other woman's face. "A friend organized the ticket for me. He neglected to mention it was for business class."
"Must be a very good friend." The other woman took a sip of orange juice, her dark eyes shining over the rim of the glass. "Business class isn't cheap."
"He's like a brother to me." Bonnie agreed as she dropped into her seat. Still feeling a little flustered at how blatantly she'd ogled the other woman's legs, she kept her attention firmly focused on fastening her seat belt. "... are you travelling on business?"
"Yes." The other woman gestured for a steward and handed over her now empty glass, then paused as Bonnie declined the offer of a pre-flight drink. "A visit to some customers here in New York, and then with some others in London. Are you a local?"
Bonnie shook her head. "I flew in from Atlanta. Are you staying in London long?"
"Just a few days. Then I fly home to Mumbai. I'm Chahna, by the way." As she spoke, the older woman offered her left hand. Bonnie shook it, noting the wedding ring as she did so.
"Bonnie. Is it hard being away from your husband on these trips?"
"My ... ?" Chahna blinked, then glanced down at her hand. "Oh yes, the ring. To be honest, I mainly wear this to keep away unwelcome attention when I'm travelling. Rings are not part of Hindi wedding customs."
"You're not married, then?"
"I was. My husband died a few years ago."
"Oh." Bonnie flushed, feeling foolish. "Sorry ..."
"There is no need to apologize." Chahna held up a fine-boned hand. "You were not to know. He has been dead for some time, now. He was a good man. Many Indian men would not allow their wife to take an active role in business."
Remembering her own father's reaction the one time her mother had broached the idea of getting a part time job, Bonnie wrinkled her nose. "That's not limited to India, I can tell you."
"You are probably right." Chahna agreed. "So this friend of yours ... has it been a long time since you saw him?"
"Quite a while, yes." Bonnie paused, thinking about how much to elaborate. "He and I used to date, years ago, but we worked better as friends." All true, if not entirely honest. "He's with someone else, now. Actually, I think part of the reason he was so keen for me to come visit is so I can give my opinion of his new beau."
"Ah, he is considering a love match, then. My own marriage was arranged by my parents."
"Really?" Bonnie was glad she had refused the offer of a drink, or she might have dropped it. "That still happens?" She stopped her outburst, flushing in embarrassment. "Sorry. I must sound like an ignorant American."
"Only a little bit." Chahna held up her fingers, a half inch apart, but her smile took any sting out of the words. "Yes, it does still happen. For both men and women. I was lucky, really. My husband was quite a lot older than me, but he was a good man. Gentle and kind, and willing to allow his young wife her liberated ways."
"Wow. That seems so weird to me." Bonnie settled back in her chair, frowning slightly. Then she shook her head. "Though I guess with all the divorces in the US, maybe marrying for love isn't all it's cracked up to be." Or like my parents ... miserable with each other, but still together.
"Divorces or not, I think I would still rather marry for love." Chahna leaned back in her own chair, and turned her head to look out of the window. She was silent for a moment, then turned back to Bonnie. "But enough of that. You said this is your first visit to Europe. Are you staying in London, or travelling?"
"Staying in London." Bonnie replied, feeling a slight jerk as the aircraft pushed away from the gate at last. "At least I think so. Andy – my friend – didn't mention any travelling, anyway. I'm only there for a few days. Like you."
"Though you are there for pleasure, rather than business."
"Well, yeah." Bonnie agreed, "But maybe you'll manage to find some time for some fun, too?"
"Maybe." Chahna conceded, with a half smile. "London is a vibrant city, full of life ... though very cold and grey at this time of year, at least to me. Still, I am sure you will have a great time, especially with a local to show you the sights."
"Andy's not really a local." Bonnie admitted. "He lives in Edinburgh with his partner. They're coming down to London for the weekend. I originally thought I'd be going to Scotland, but Andy said there was no way he was letting me make my first visit to 'his puir, wee country' –" she mimicked the appalling accent Andy had affected when he made the statement "- 'at this ahbom'nable time o' year'."
"Your friend sounds like quite the character."
"Oh, he is."
"Bonnie, my love!" Andy stepped out of the bustling crowd and spread his arms wide. "Come to my embrace, dear heart."
"I see you haven't changed." The former cheerleader rolled her eyes at the extravagant display. Then, seeing no sign of Andy lowering his arms, she shrugged, threw her own arms around him, and landed a big, noisy kiss on his cheek.
"Ugh. Girl germs." Andy shuddered theatrically, then grinned. Brushing his ash blonde fringe back from his eyes, he turned and grabbed the hand of a tall, sturdily-built young man with tousled black hair. "Bonnie, this is Eric, the strudel of my dreams. Eric, this is Bonnie, the only woman who might ever have tempted me to go straight."
"I am sorry for Andy's behavior." Eric offered his hand. He had a good grip; firm but not aggressive. "He feels he must constantly be joking to make up for his humorless Teutonic boyfriend." He beetled his brows together in a mock glower.
Bonnie smiled. "I think the Teuton's humor is not so much absent, as too subtle for Andy to notice."
"I'm standing right here, you know."
"Yes, and you haven't yet offered to take my bags." Bonnie shoved the handle of her suitcase into Andy's hand and smirked at his sputter of protest. Glancing at Eric, she raised her eyebrows. "Are you sure you know what you're getting into?"
Andy pouted. "I was the best boyfriend you ever had!"
"Which says more about my romantic ineptitude than anything else." The brunette agreed mildly. "But thank you for picking me up. This place is a zoo."
"It always is." Andy began to lead the way through the teeming bustle of the Heathrow terminal.
"Did you have a good flight?" Eric asked. His English was excellent, with only his careful diction betraying that it was not his native tongue.
"Yeah, I managed to sleep for a few hours." Bonnie nodded. "And I was sitting next to this really nice woman –"
"Ohhhhh." Andy managed to make a single syllable salacious. "Was she gorgeous?"
"Yes, actually." Bonnie knew denying it would simply make Andy turn up the teasing. "Beautiful eyes, fantastic legs. Shame about the wedding ring."
"A mere trifle." Andy waved the last comment away, though his tone made it clear he was joking. "I'm glad you got some sleep: we've got a busy weekend planned."
Bonnie snorted. "It would have been hard not to sleep, what with the pampering you get in business class. Don't think I'm going to let you get away unscathed for that little stunt, buddy. I checked the airline website and you can't use points to get business class tickets, except for family."
"You are family." Andy shrugged as he lead the trio into the car park. "My gorgeous baby dyke little sister."
"I'm not sure the airline would agree with your definition of family."
It was Eric who replied.
"It is useless to argue with him, Bonnie. He insists on being this extravagant with everyone he cares about."
"Listen to the handsome bratwurst." Andy waggled his eyebrows. "I'm incorrigible."
Bonnie sighed.
"You're certainly that."
Incorrigible or not, Andy was also a fantastic host. He drove them into the spacious two-bedroom apartment he'd booked, dropping off Bonnie's luggage, and giving her time to freshen up. Then he and Eric had dragged her off on a whirlwind tour of all of central London's most famous sights - Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, Nelson's column – and also some lesser known delights.
"This place is gorgeous in the summer." Andy explained as they wandered through the shell of St Dunstan's. The ruined church stood amidst the modern office buildings. Bombed in the Second World War, it had been left unrestored as a memorial of the Blitz.
"It's gorgeous now." Bonnie breathed, imagining the trees and ivy that grew in the ruins as they would appear in summer.
"Just one of many gifts brought to you by the German people." Eric murmured softly.
"Oh ... I guess this must be a bit strange for you." Until that moment, Bonnie hadn't considered what the church might represent to a German.
"Strange, but not bad. Any war is a terrible thing, and what Germany did in that one was even more terrible. I think memorials like this are important because they remind us of our mistakes."
"He's so wise." Andy slipped his arm around the other man and gave him a peck on the cheek.
They moved on, exploring other parts of the city, travelling either on foot or by hopping on and off the famous Tube. A stroll along the Thames was chilly, but gave great views of the houses of Parliament, and let them pass close to the Globe Theatre.
"Closed at this time of year, of course." Andy remarked of the open-air venue. "Which just means you'll have to come back in summer, Bonbon."
The West End, on the other hand, was in full swing, with dozens of shows on offer. Andy produced tickets to The Mousetrap with a flourish.
"That was wonderful." Bonnie remarked, as they emerged from the theatre into the cold night air.
"Longest running show in the world." Andy observed. "I thought as an actor you'd have an interest in it."
"I'm a teacher." Bonnie corrected.
"With your looks and talent, you could be a star."
"I think you may be biased." The brunette nudged Andy with her hip, then shrugged. "... I did think about chasing 'the Hollywood dream'. But I love teaching, and working with the kids. I'm happy doing what I do. That's what's important."
"Now that is wisdom." Eric nodded.
"I'll tell you what's wisdom," Andy rubbed his hands together, then shoved them under his armpits. "And that's getting out of this cold."
"Good idea." Bonnie nodded fervently. Alabama wasn't exactly known for its harsh winters, and she was definitely feeling the chill.
"We could catch a taxi back to the apartment?" Eric suggested.
"God no, the night is still young." Andy waved away that proposal. "Rainbow is nearby, we should go there and have a drink or two." He turned to Bonnie. "It's this great little club. I used to go there whenever I was in town, but bratwurst here's too much of a homebody, so I haven't been in ages."
"I don't know ..." Bonnie didn't really want to call an end to the night, but with a name like 'Rainbow', it wasn't hard to guess what kind of club it was.
"Come on, Bonbon." Andy immediately guessed the reason for her uncertainty. "You're four thousand miles from home. If you're ever going to stick a toe out of the closet, now's the time to do it."
Indecision tore at her.
"... okay. Just for a quick drink, though." Bonnie swallowed, unsure whether she felt triumphant or terrified.
Maybe both.
Rainbow was a smallish venue, and relatively quiet with it being a Wednesday night. The music wasn't quite as deafening as at some of the clubs Bonnie had been in, and the clientele – what there was of it – looked to be mainly young professionals.
"See anyone you fancy?" Andy leaned in close so he didn't have to shout to be heard.
"We're just here for a drink, remember?"
"Doesn't mean you can't window-shop, beautiful. What about her?" He nodded at a voluptuous, heavily made-up blonde with spiked blonde hair.
"I like my girls more natural."
"You mean the ... ?" Alex made the international gesture for 'breasts'.
"Well, those too. But also the hair and make-up."
"Ah, so you want some restraint and refinement. Some class. Must be why you dated me."
"Riiiight."
"I shall ignore that sarcasm." Andy contrived to look pious. Almost immediately the façade crumbled and he gave a wolf whistle. "Oh! How about her over there?"
"Don't point!" Bonnie pushed down Andy's hand. When he made to point again, she sighed. "I'll look, I'll look. Just don't point."
"No pointing. Got it."
With a sigh, Bonnie turned in the direction her former boyfriend was staring. Okay, that is a much better choice. The indicated woman was facing away, but she was tall and elegant, with coffee-colored skin and long, slim legs. Her dark hair flowed over her shoulders.
"Not bad." The brunette acknowledged, then broke off as the woman turned, and their eyes met across the small club. "Chahna?"
Author's Note: Holy crap, an update! :)
St Dunstan's is a real place. The Mousetrap is a real play, written by Agatha Christie. It's been running continuously since 1952, so I figured it was safe to assume it would still be showing in the near future setting of this story.
Rainbow is a fictional location, as far as I know.