Britwitch
Classically curvy
- Joined
- Apr 23, 2004
- Posts
- 23,086
<Closed>
It didn’t matter how many trips she had made, boarding an intercontinental flight still gave Jessica a rush of excitement. Of course, boarding a plane and turning left instead of right was a brand new thrill all of its own, but as a representative of her company where else should she sit if not in business class. She smiled at the flight attendant who took her jacket and hand luggage, asking that it be handled carefully as the contents were valuable and fragile. Another smile for the next attendant who brought her a cool drink to enjoy while the rest of the passengers boarded, carefully manicured nails flipping through one of the magazines provided while she sipped the chilled beverage.
Before too long everyone was on board, they had pushed away from the gate and were up in the air, en route to the Southern Hemisphere and Australia. It was one of those countries she had always hoped to visit one day and still couldn’t quite believe she would be living in for the next month or so. She would be in the land of kangaroos and ‘Crocodile Dundee’ by the end of the next day, or was it the same day? Her brow creased for a moment as her mind tried to work out the time differences.
“Excuse me, here is the menu for this evening’s meal…” A calm voice broke through her thoughts as an expensive card was lowered into her vision. “As a business passenger you can choose to eat when best suits you, and if I can get you anything in the meantime please don’t hesitate to ask.” The hostess smiled and moved to the next passenger. Smiling wryly Jess wondered if they taught them how to talk with that soothing tone or if it was something they just had to have to get the job.
She was choosing between the options when the equally velvet tones of the Captain came over the intercom,
“Good evening and welcome to this Qantas flight to Singapore, we will soon reach our cruising altitude…”
Sighing, Jessica tuned out and relaxed back into the seat. Twelve hours flying, an hour’s stop in Singapore, another seven hours of flying and she would be in Melbourne; sounded relatively quick if you said it fast.
“Business or pleasure?”
“Pardon?” Jessica asked as a voice came from beside her , green eyes focusing on the source of the odd question.
“Your trip, business or pleasure?” The speaker was a middle aged man, if his accent hadn’t given away his origin as being from either Australia or New Zealand, Jessica would’ve presumed he either holidayed a lot or lived somewhere with equatorial weather going by the level of tan decorating his face.
“Oh, business.” She smiled politely and returned her attention to the menu card.
“Business, eh?”
Jessica nodded, re-reading the wine list printed on the back of the card for the umpteenth time.
“Let me guess. You’re a model?”
“You flatter me,” She smiled, awkwardly this time. Part of her wanted to ask him if lines like that ever actually worked, another part of her already knew the answer.
Twelve hours of flying suddenly sounded like a lifetime if this was the level of company she was going to keep during it.
“Actress?”
Jessica figured actually telling him what she did would be the swiftest way to bring an end to his questions.
“I work for an engineering company.” Her tone was polite but not conversational. She hoped and prayed he knew nothing of the business because while it was true that she worked for an engineering firm, she knew next to nothing about what it did. She worked in their PR department and was on her way to a plant near Melbourne to help them work out some issues they were having from the local population to some extensions being made to some of the works.
She could almost hear his brain trying to come up with an innuendo laden comment about women and engineers but it seemed his mind couldn’t rise to the challenge and so all she heard was a rather quiet,
“Well, that…that’s interesting. Hope you enjoy your stay…”
before his reclining seat reclined him slowly out of her view.
In all honesty Jessica did plan to enjoy her stay. Australia was a beautiful country, as she understood it, and she hoped her month stay would include some time to explore her surroundings.
The flight was everything it should be, the food was delicious, the wine flowed almost too easily and Jess slept well. A very brief hour in Singapore and it was back onto another plane. No chat up lines on this flight, which was just as well. As the on-board map showed they had entered Australian airspace Jessica’s stomach began to tighten with nerves.
She took some time before they landed to slip into the ladies and brush her hair, debating between leaving the long chocolate brown waves hanging around her shoulders and sweeping it’s length up into something more business-like. A compromise was called for, after all, she’d read somewhere that their Australian cousins were a little more relaxed than the British were about many things. A high ponytail was the end result, a lock of hair wound around the base to conceal the hairband that held it in place ensuring the style looked more business-like and less high school. She applied a little make up, some subtle liner around her eyes, a spritz of perfume on her pulse points and she felt she looked ready. Definitely more ready than she felt.
For a few moments she looked at herself in the mirror, trying to psyche herself up. She wouldn’t have been sent if they didn’t think she was up to the challenge. Their Australian office was practically level with the Head Office back in the UK, this was a big deal, to put it politely. She knew she’d been sent partly because when dealing with the public and their perceptions of the company they liked to send ‘a pretty face’. A fact she had baulked at early in her career but now she understood the game, and how it was played, a little better. A pretty face helped dull the sting of bad news, or helped make up unsure minds. She still needed to know what to say and who to say it to and that was where the talent lay. She might not have chosen this career but she was good at it. She had been sent because they thought she could do what was required, even if she didn’t think the same. A soft ‘ding’ interrupted her internal pep talk and informed her and the other passengers that they would be landing soon. One more sweep of her reflection, straightening the collar of her fitted blouse and adjusting the waistband of her skirt. It’s colour a darker, almost navy, shade of blue than her shirt. It was smart but far more casual than anything she would have worn back home.
The exodus from the plane was as chaotic as every other flight she had ever taken but she managed to remain poised among those that jostled and knocked her as the small sea of passengers made their way from the plane down to passport control and on to the baggage hall.
She held back from commenting as a rather sweaty individual pushed in front of her at the luggage carousel. It was too early in the morning for arguing with strangers and besides, her bag would still be there when he had moved away. With a muffled groan, she shouldered one holdall and began to drag the other behind her, with her hand luggage carefully attached to the top of the case. She had over packed. She was certain she had, but she wasn’t a hundred per cent sure on what climate to expect – the internet could only tell you so much, and she had no idea on the dress code and attitude of her ‘adoptive’ office for the next month.
Her ‘slightly higher than sensible’ heels clicked on the highly polished floor as she made her way through towards the arrivals hall. Jess’ keen green eyes looking for her name on a card, scanning the crowds of people as she entered the hall. Laughing, crying, hugging people were all around as she came to a stop, brow creasing ever so slightly. She had been certain that no matter what else they did or didn’t do over here, they would have sent someone to pick her up. Eventually she spotted it, ‘Miss J. Brooks’ on a large white card in the hands of someone tall, or at least taller than her. Taking a slightly deeper breath she walked over, lips smiling, stomach fluttering with nervous tension.
“You must be from the office, I’m Jessica,” She outstretched her hand, shaking the larger one that took hold of it with a fairly firm grip. She found she had to tilt her chin a little to meet the eyes looking down at her, even with her heels. “Pleasure to meet you.”
It didn’t matter how many trips she had made, boarding an intercontinental flight still gave Jessica a rush of excitement. Of course, boarding a plane and turning left instead of right was a brand new thrill all of its own, but as a representative of her company where else should she sit if not in business class. She smiled at the flight attendant who took her jacket and hand luggage, asking that it be handled carefully as the contents were valuable and fragile. Another smile for the next attendant who brought her a cool drink to enjoy while the rest of the passengers boarded, carefully manicured nails flipping through one of the magazines provided while she sipped the chilled beverage.
Before too long everyone was on board, they had pushed away from the gate and were up in the air, en route to the Southern Hemisphere and Australia. It was one of those countries she had always hoped to visit one day and still couldn’t quite believe she would be living in for the next month or so. She would be in the land of kangaroos and ‘Crocodile Dundee’ by the end of the next day, or was it the same day? Her brow creased for a moment as her mind tried to work out the time differences.
“Excuse me, here is the menu for this evening’s meal…” A calm voice broke through her thoughts as an expensive card was lowered into her vision. “As a business passenger you can choose to eat when best suits you, and if I can get you anything in the meantime please don’t hesitate to ask.” The hostess smiled and moved to the next passenger. Smiling wryly Jess wondered if they taught them how to talk with that soothing tone or if it was something they just had to have to get the job.
She was choosing between the options when the equally velvet tones of the Captain came over the intercom,
“Good evening and welcome to this Qantas flight to Singapore, we will soon reach our cruising altitude…”
Sighing, Jessica tuned out and relaxed back into the seat. Twelve hours flying, an hour’s stop in Singapore, another seven hours of flying and she would be in Melbourne; sounded relatively quick if you said it fast.
“Business or pleasure?”
“Pardon?” Jessica asked as a voice came from beside her , green eyes focusing on the source of the odd question.
“Your trip, business or pleasure?” The speaker was a middle aged man, if his accent hadn’t given away his origin as being from either Australia or New Zealand, Jessica would’ve presumed he either holidayed a lot or lived somewhere with equatorial weather going by the level of tan decorating his face.
“Oh, business.” She smiled politely and returned her attention to the menu card.
“Business, eh?”
Jessica nodded, re-reading the wine list printed on the back of the card for the umpteenth time.
“Let me guess. You’re a model?”
“You flatter me,” She smiled, awkwardly this time. Part of her wanted to ask him if lines like that ever actually worked, another part of her already knew the answer.
Twelve hours of flying suddenly sounded like a lifetime if this was the level of company she was going to keep during it.
“Actress?”
Jessica figured actually telling him what she did would be the swiftest way to bring an end to his questions.
“I work for an engineering company.” Her tone was polite but not conversational. She hoped and prayed he knew nothing of the business because while it was true that she worked for an engineering firm, she knew next to nothing about what it did. She worked in their PR department and was on her way to a plant near Melbourne to help them work out some issues they were having from the local population to some extensions being made to some of the works.
She could almost hear his brain trying to come up with an innuendo laden comment about women and engineers but it seemed his mind couldn’t rise to the challenge and so all she heard was a rather quiet,
“Well, that…that’s interesting. Hope you enjoy your stay…”
before his reclining seat reclined him slowly out of her view.
In all honesty Jessica did plan to enjoy her stay. Australia was a beautiful country, as she understood it, and she hoped her month stay would include some time to explore her surroundings.
The flight was everything it should be, the food was delicious, the wine flowed almost too easily and Jess slept well. A very brief hour in Singapore and it was back onto another plane. No chat up lines on this flight, which was just as well. As the on-board map showed they had entered Australian airspace Jessica’s stomach began to tighten with nerves.
She took some time before they landed to slip into the ladies and brush her hair, debating between leaving the long chocolate brown waves hanging around her shoulders and sweeping it’s length up into something more business-like. A compromise was called for, after all, she’d read somewhere that their Australian cousins were a little more relaxed than the British were about many things. A high ponytail was the end result, a lock of hair wound around the base to conceal the hairband that held it in place ensuring the style looked more business-like and less high school. She applied a little make up, some subtle liner around her eyes, a spritz of perfume on her pulse points and she felt she looked ready. Definitely more ready than she felt.
For a few moments she looked at herself in the mirror, trying to psyche herself up. She wouldn’t have been sent if they didn’t think she was up to the challenge. Their Australian office was practically level with the Head Office back in the UK, this was a big deal, to put it politely. She knew she’d been sent partly because when dealing with the public and their perceptions of the company they liked to send ‘a pretty face’. A fact she had baulked at early in her career but now she understood the game, and how it was played, a little better. A pretty face helped dull the sting of bad news, or helped make up unsure minds. She still needed to know what to say and who to say it to and that was where the talent lay. She might not have chosen this career but she was good at it. She had been sent because they thought she could do what was required, even if she didn’t think the same. A soft ‘ding’ interrupted her internal pep talk and informed her and the other passengers that they would be landing soon. One more sweep of her reflection, straightening the collar of her fitted blouse and adjusting the waistband of her skirt. It’s colour a darker, almost navy, shade of blue than her shirt. It was smart but far more casual than anything she would have worn back home.
The exodus from the plane was as chaotic as every other flight she had ever taken but she managed to remain poised among those that jostled and knocked her as the small sea of passengers made their way from the plane down to passport control and on to the baggage hall.
She held back from commenting as a rather sweaty individual pushed in front of her at the luggage carousel. It was too early in the morning for arguing with strangers and besides, her bag would still be there when he had moved away. With a muffled groan, she shouldered one holdall and began to drag the other behind her, with her hand luggage carefully attached to the top of the case. She had over packed. She was certain she had, but she wasn’t a hundred per cent sure on what climate to expect – the internet could only tell you so much, and she had no idea on the dress code and attitude of her ‘adoptive’ office for the next month.
Her ‘slightly higher than sensible’ heels clicked on the highly polished floor as she made her way through towards the arrivals hall. Jess’ keen green eyes looking for her name on a card, scanning the crowds of people as she entered the hall. Laughing, crying, hugging people were all around as she came to a stop, brow creasing ever so slightly. She had been certain that no matter what else they did or didn’t do over here, they would have sent someone to pick her up. Eventually she spotted it, ‘Miss J. Brooks’ on a large white card in the hands of someone tall, or at least taller than her. Taking a slightly deeper breath she walked over, lips smiling, stomach fluttering with nervous tension.
“You must be from the office, I’m Jessica,” She outstretched her hand, shaking the larger one that took hold of it with a fairly firm grip. She found she had to tilt her chin a little to meet the eyes looking down at her, even with her heels. “Pleasure to meet you.”
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