“Which plane are you flying out on, dad? Is it the Shake’s Plane?”
Of course, Simon knew it wasn’t really the Shake’s Plane.
Open on the bed was a big, battered and stickered case with straps and dividers.
The case was already half-packed with shirts and underwear. Simon watched his father folding a pair of trousers onto a hanger inside the case. The last thing to go in was his wash-bag…with the sachets of shampoo and a small bar of soap from a bowl on the side.
His father sat down on the edge of the bed, and put on his socks and garters. He took a brush and ran it over his shoes. Then he put on the white shirt – the one with the lapels.
“Hand me the clothes brush, would you, Simon?”
Simon’s father ran the brush over his uniform jacket. Then he put on his trousers and shoes. He secured the dividers and closed the case. He sheathed his spare uniform, and picked up his coat.
“Simon, do you mind bringing my hat down?”
A cup of tea was waiting for them on the kitchen table.
Simon’s father had hardly had a sip when the front door bell rang. He gulped down the rest of his tea and went over to kiss his mother goodbye.
Simon followed his father to the front door. His father picked up his suitcase together with his spare uniform.
Mike came around and opened the boot of his car. His father put the case in. He came back for his attaché case and his peaked cap.
“It isn’t the Shake’s Plane, but it is a seven four seven.”
“A seven four seven.”
“That’s right. They’re newer the DC10s…”
Simon was always the last one to be dropped off, which was why he was sitting in the front, explaining all this to Mr. Norman.
“That is, the Shake’s plane and the seven four seven are the same plane.”
Mr. Norman had never been to the Middle East. In fact, the only place Mr. Norman had been on a plane was Benidorm, and that was with the wife. Besides, planes gave him the heebie-jeebies, which was, he said, just like the shakes.
“I see”, said Simon, laughing. “That’s what you get when you go on the long haul.”
“Have you got over your shakes?”
Simon’s father laughed when Simon explained Mr. Norman’s joke. “Mr. Norman”, he said, “did not like planes.”
“Not even the Shake’s plane?”
On the kitchen table was a present of two packets. Inside one packet was a plastic comb, a toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste, and a sachet of shampoo. Inside the other packet was a pair of goggles and socks they were giving away on first class.
Simon opened the packet with the goggles and put them on. They flopped down over his face.
“Now you can’t see a thing,” said his mother, tightening them at the back.
“Yes, I can,” he said. “I can see you through the gap.”
“Can you see me?”
“No,” said Simon, taking off the goggles to look at his father. “I can’t see you.”
Simon helped his father lay the table and light the candles for dinner. His mother, who had a reputation as a wondrous cook, had made a homemade leek and potato soup, followed by mushroom and beef pie that she had already made for the Crosbys; she had surpassed herself, however, with the pudding, which was pears in wine and cloves.
His mother got up to clear away the plates; Simon was still thinking about the Shake’s plane.
“When am I going to see it?”
His father couldn’t make any promises till he got back from Dubai.
During the week Simon had an away game with Hill House; they lost four nil, and he gashed his shin. In scripture they read the book of Kings. In geography they learnt about coffee plantations in Brazil. In science they looked at a xenopus and in French they revised “etre” with the circumflex. In history they studied King Stephen and his wife Matilda and his rival, the Empress Matilda. The history teacher Mr. Bates made a joke about someone called the Waltzing Matildas. No one got the joke so the history teacher told them to ask the geography teacher for an explanation, and in maths… Simon could not explain to Mr. Norman what they had done in maths.
Simon was expecting to see his father when he got home; instead he found his mother lying in bed. “Where is dad?” he asked. “I thought he was coming back today.”
“He’s not coming back,” she said.
“Has there been a crash?”
“Don’t be silly. The plane’s delayed, that’s all.”
“At Heathrow?”
“No, the Middle East.”
Simon did not see his father for a while after that, although he spoke to him several times on the phone. He didn’t go to school any more in Mr. Norman’s car because his mother could take him on her way to work.
On his birthday Simon’s father came to pick him up in Mike’s car. They drove out to Heathrow where a plane was sitting outside one of the hangars. “This is it,” said Mike, “the one that belongs to the Shake.”
His father said, laughing:
“Well, I wish I had all his lolly!”
“Forget about his lolly,” said Mike, “what about this for a harem?”
Simon climbed on board and peered into the cockpit. He turned around and looked into the cabin. There were no aisles or rows of seats. The Shake had taken out first class and economy and put in a living room with a TV. The engineers had taken the engine out so no one could fly the Shake’s plane.
“What do you expect?” Simon’s father said. “The Shakes keep charging us for petrol.”
As a special birthday treat, Simon was taken into town to the Hard Rock Café where he met Mike’s girlfriend, Shirley and Jane Crosby. Jane Crosby had bought Simon a book about planes. When his mother found the book in the waste paper bin in his room, she asked Simon why he had thrown it away. “I hate planes,” Simon said. “I don’t want to be a pilot anymore.”