Verity awoke with a faint, surprised grunt. The old grey rabbit seated next to her apologised quietly for waking her. He had bumped her elbow as he had shifted in his seat. She smiled at him. She did not begrudge the old chap for disturbing her. After all it was because of him that she was now settled next to the window. She had been assigned an isle seat but he had asked if she would mind swapping her seat. It meant his wife, who was not a good flyer would be better able to leave her seat. Throughout the flight the old dear periodically fled to the toilet or paced the aisles fretfully. She sprang up so often and so suddenly that she seemed to Verity like a podgy, lapine jack in the box.
Flying had not been as glamorous as Verity had imagined. While waiting to board the plane, she had managed to find a brochure for the airline. The pictures of the first class passengers in their luxury seats sipping tea had appeared most inviting. Sadly she was not sat in first class. She was to fly economy. Cattle class as it was known amongst veteran travellers. It was an uncomfortable way to fly. That was why it was cheap. It was cramped. There were often lines for the toilet and after a while it gained a peculiar smell. The smell of a lot of people squeezed into a small space for a long time. Body odour, bad breath, food and in a few places, baby. These scents swirled together to form a rather heavy funk. The air conditioning did not as much remove it, as move it around the cabin.
The blue upholstery and white plastic trim of the cabin had seen better days. Smoking had been banned on aircraft a long time ago, but a few burns and stubborn nicotine stains lingered on in economy. Her explorations of her little territory had been brief. It yielded chewing gum, an empty candy wrapper and a deflated yellow life jacket sealed in a plastic container. She had wanted to get it out to look at it more closely, but a steward in a dark blue uniform had told her to put it back. She did so straight away and he had smiled. As he left she found herself glad for the first time in her life that she was short. There was not a great deal of room between her and the seat in front. If she had been any bigger, it would have been unbearable.
The lights in the cabin were dimmed now. Most of the passengers were sleeping or at least trying to. Stifling a yawn, the young dog slid open the plastic cover over the window and saw that it was night outside. A few stars twinkled overhead but it was hard to see them clearly through the scuffed clear plastic. Lights at the tips of the wings winked periodically, almost dazzlingly. After a while she pulled the cover down again. She arched her back with a grunt. Now it was her turn to shift uncomfortably in her seat. Her rump had gone to sleep and quick glance at her watch revealed that she had managed a mere two hours sleep. She pulled off her blanket and stretched out her legs under the seat in front of her, accidentally kicking something that felt like a handbag.
As Verity tensed and flexed her legs, she studied them in the low light. They were covered by her favourite, not exactly stylish jeans. The torn, faded blue denim had seen better days. She still liked how tough they were and how comfortable they felt. She stubbornly refused to get rid of them. Wiggling her toes in her equally battered training shoes, Verity smiled. She was rather proud of her legs. They were strong and sturdy. Goal scorers and time beaters. They had been honed by twelve years of sport and wild gambolling about. Often they helped to propel her up trees. The resultant unplanned descents and other minor misadventures meant that they were usually scuffed and scratched, with shaved patches topped with sticking plasters. As with everything, Verity did not like them because they looked good, but for what they could do.
Unfortunately one of the things they had done had landed her in some very serious trouble. She had responded to a rather inappropriate handling of her person with rattlesnake speed. The response had been a hard kick to the 'intimates'. So hard in fact that the lad ceased sneering and crumpled into shivering, vomiting shock. He was promptly rushed to hospital. There was a rumour that he would never walk right again. Or sire children.
Parents had been called. His had swept to his bedside and demanded retribution. Hers had been harder to reach. Being thousands of miles distant they were in another time zone. Before long the staff, all in various stages of decrepitude, had decided it was best she leave their care. She had pointed out that the boy had been older and bigger than her, that his hands had been shoved not just under her top, but into her trousers. Apparently he had been checking to 'see if she was a girl yet'. As ever, they did not care much to hear her side of the story. She had never been a good pupil. So it was that a 'choice' had been given. She could leave or be expelled. She spent a few days alone in the school sanatorium until her grandparents appeared to collect her and her meagre possessions.
She had not been too sorry to be leaving. She had never liked boarding school. She did not take well to the strict routines and stricter discipline. The great, dreary, imposing old buildings and drafty dormitories were so oppressive that she felt very much a prisoner. Bland, healthy food and monotonous routines would have been at least bearable if she had friends. Despite her athletic prowess, she had not managed to acquire any. She had won races, both on foot and swimming. She had a passion for the water, swimming and sailing whenever she could. She vanquished many in fencing tournaments and been devastating on the hockey field. Despite earning them victory time and time again, her school fellows shunned her. Her nature was too rough and tumble, her wit too laconic. She was unsophisticated. The girls disliked her and the boys distrusted her. Eventually she had given up on the lot of them. Instead she spent her free time escaping into the woodlands encircling the school grounds. At least there had been things to watch. Rabbits, foxes, birds and all the insects that crawled the earth.
Whispering apologies she climbed past the old gentleman beside her and his queasy wife. Once clear she went up on the tips of her. With her legs tensed, she strutted like a chicken for a few paces. She then grabbed each ankle in turn and pulled it up to her rump. With her muscles properly stretched she felt much better. The feeling was returning to her numb hindquarters she headed down the aisle towards the toilets.
The light inside the narrow cubicle was uncomfortably bright. She locked the door behind her. Squinting, she regarded herself in the grubby mirror. The glass was marked with smudges and grubby hand prints from where turbulence had caught out the unwary. Verity usually did not much care how she looked. Now was different. In a few hours she would be seeing her parents for the first time in nearly a year. In less than ideal circumstances. For a moment she wished she was a little prettier and more like the other girls at school. At least then she could have whimpered and begged for mercy. It was only for a moment however. The girls at her school were always fretting about their hair, their clothes and the size of their stomachs. They had styled and starved. She did as she pleased. This made her an outcast, a misfit. They had teased her of course but she did not care. She had not liked them at all. They had been scheming, pompous, arrogant and vicious. She had not shared their preoccupations with style and had long since given up on trying to keep up with the various cliques and infighting.
She gave a wide, tongue curling, jaw cracking yawn. Rubbing her eyes she knew she looked a state. She never liked how she looked inside. When out of doors, her dusky, russet pelt would shine in the sun like she was blessed with a permanent bronze halo. Now it just looked dull, flat and unkempt. Her soft black hair was wavy and usually bounced down to her shoulders. Currently the back of it was bent out of shape from sleep. She ruffled the tangled mess and resolved to tame it. She made use of the small collapsible comb that was part of the complimentary wash-bag. The cheap plastic promptly broke. With a sigh she binned it in disgust and gave up. Instead she brushed her teeth.
Turning side on, with the toothbrush poking out of her muzzle she frowned at her reflection, studying herself with her pale, ice blue eyes. Beneath her crumpled white t-shirt, her chest and stomach were mostly flat and covered with white fur. Her build was sturdily athletic, a gentle contradiction of soft and firm. 'Healthy' Granma called her. Granda agreed. Anyone who didn't agree with his wife would soon wish they had. Though diminutive and superannuated, Verity's paternal grandmother remained the benevolent tyrant of her clan. Few were willing to risk her wrath. Especially her gentle and affable husband. Verity wished she could have remained in England with them. Indeed, she had begged to stay. They were stern but kind, much like her father. She argued that she could attend a local school and live with them in their bungalow. It was not to be however. Decisions were made without her and now she was on a thirteen hour flight into danger and uncertainty.
After refreshing herself as best she could, Verity made her way back to her seat. Once settled back by the window she looked at her watch again. Nine hours gone and four to go. Nibbling on the black flesh of her bottom lip she pondered what to do with herself. It had been exciting at first. Especially the thrill of the take-off. The engines had screamed and the whole world rumbled and quaked. Then the ground fell away. Wisps of cloud streaked past the windows and she watched with glee as England became a flat green shape soon lost somewhere beneath the clouds.
Once the plane levelled out and began to cruise, she had gotten thirsty. She asked a stewardess for a drink and was brought a cola. When she pulled out her purse to pay, she had a pleasant surprise. That rarest of treats, soda, was free in the air! They came in miniature cans, ice cold and glistening. She even had a little plastic cup with some ice. Verity could drink as much as she liked and so she did. She tried the cola, lemonade, ginger beer and fruit flavoured offerings. Sadly over indulgence had a price and she spent a few hours feeling a little 'precious'. It was just as well there had been so little turbulence. She did not fancy the idea of being sick on the nice old man beside her. She left that task to his poor wife.
As she was travelling as an unaccompanied minor, the crew had taken extra care with her. At one point the steward who had smiled at her when she did as she was told about the life jacket had appeared. He had taken her to the cockpit to meet the flight crew. The pilots had chatted to her, shown her the controls and tried to explain what the baffling array of switches and dials were for. She had done her best to understand but the finer technical points of flight and navigation were not her forte. She thanked them earnestly when it was time to go and returned to her seat, awed and content knowing that she was in very safe hands. The captain reminded her of her father.
After that she had become bored. This annoyed her as she usually was able to find something to do with herself. But there was nothing to explore up here without risking getting under the feet of the cabin crew. She did not want to make their job any more difficult as they had enough to deal with. So she finished her book and read her way through all the magazines she had brought. She had even read the paltry collection of magazines the airline had tucked into a flap on the back of the seat in front. There was a duty free catalogue, a magazine extolling the quality and virtues of the airline and a laminated card instructing her what to do in an emergency.
The batteries in her walkman died. Eventually so had the spares Verity had purchased. She had liked the way the high pitched shriek of the female rock star had slowly turned into a deep, drunken drawl. The rest of her supporting band slowed down loyally. They did not want to show the poor, flagging artiste up. They had stopped when she did. It also transpired that the socket in the armrest where Verity was supposed to be able to plug in headphones was broken. That meant no music, and no sound to go with the in flight film. She had watched the characters on the screen go about their action adventure without a glimmer of comprehension. She occupied herself with trying to make up an accompanying plot and script in her head. The film had ended and she once again found herself at a loose end. She began to worry about what was going to happen when she reached Hong Kong.
Her parents were both British. Her father was a colonel in the Army Air Corps. His job seemed to mainly revolve around helicopters. Every three years or so he would be posted to a new base. Sometimes these positions had been in England, but the last few had been overseas. He had been sent to Cyprus, Germany and Gibraltar. She would have liked to have gone with him, but her mother had made it clear that she was to stay in England. So she went to boarding school. She stayed with her grandparents during the holidays. Her parents often flew back during these breaks in her education for pay her fleeting visits. These brief visits were the highlight of her year.
Her father was a stern, serious man. He was full of fascinating facts, amazing stories and excellent advice. She may not have felt close to him, but she certainly feared and respected him. He was a tall, broad shouldered fellow. He had a deep voice and piercing blue eyes. He did not command respect, it somehow just happened. He was of the beauceron breed and from him she had inherited a stocky frame and his chilling eyes.
Her mother could not be more different. She was a russet furred cocker spaniel. It was no secret that her family thought she had married beneath her. They were obsessed with the past glories of the family and about breeding. They were especially mortified when Verity was born. A mongrel was a blemish on the family tree. Something to be ignored and shunned at all costs. Verity did not like her mother much. She had been beautiful once. Lithe and petite. Age had begun to soften her curves while bitterness had hardened her features. Her eyes were as wide and black as a starless night and just as cold. Verity thought she smoked too much and certainly drank too much. When she had been drinking she was very fond of blaming her woes upon her child. She wished Verity had never been born and did not hesitate to tell her so.
How her mother and father were going to react when she arrived in disgrace was a terrifying mystery. Her mother would probably scream and shriek at her. Her father was another matter. Would he ever speak to her again? Perhaps her mother had finally convinced him that she needed to be sent to a secure institution. Maybe he was bringing her home in order to gauge what kind correctional academy she was to be sent to.
The arrival of breakfast jolted Verity from her worries. Apparently fretting and worry was an excellent way to pass the time. Sliding up the plastic cover of the window again she saw that dawn had crept into the world. The sun was peeking through the clouds as it rose. It cast golden rays through her window and they lanced onto a tray of scrambled eggs, toast and bacon. The food was not exactly fresh but it was a welcome distraction and Verity was ravenous. Tucking in with gusto she devoured the meal in short order. All too soon the tray was gone and her coffee cup drained and spirited away. Verity checked her watch again. One hour to go. Suddenly she regretted eating. Her stomach lurched as the worry returned.
She did not have much time to fret. A soft chime sounded and the little signs telling the passengers to fasten their seatbelts winked on. They were beginning their descent. Verity packed her things back into her bag and a stewardess heaved it up into an overhead locker for her. The old rabbit beside her was trying to calm his wife who was flinching at every lurch the plane made and clinging tightly to an air sickness bag. Verity took a deep breath and looked away to watch out of the window as the clouds swept up to meet them. The clouds began to swirl around the wings and the golden light of dawn was soon replaced by murky grey.
Verity tensed as a sudden whine and rumble filled the cabin. A short scream to her right indicated the beginning of a panic attack from the terrified woman. Verity suddenly realised that the sound was coming from the wings, which were changing shape. The edges moved and the bouncing lurches got worse. The then clouds fell away and Verity saw Hong Kong for the first time. From what she had read, she thought it to be small. As that horizon grew closer she could see just how huge it really was. The aircraft continued to drop rapidly. A few children began to cry. The aircraft passed over a crowded harbour and then some densely populated areas that got closer and closer all the while. The floor under her feet began to rumble and a new noise filled the air. She told herself that it was just the wheels coming down. She hoped she was right.
She would find out later that the landing approach using runway 13 at Kai Tak was spectacular and world famous. The airport itself was located on the mainland in an area called Kowloon. This was part of the 'New Territories'. These were the areas of the Chinese mainland that formed part of the colony of Hong Kong. The airport was surrounded on three sides by rugged mountains and hills. Immediately to the south of the airport was Victoria Harbour. The rapid expansion of Hong Kong meant that the hills were thickly covered with high rise buildings and apartments. Kai-Tak's single runway had been made by removing parts of the mountains and dumping them into the harbour. Landing aircraft were faced with a difficult choice. They could wind their way down between mountains and hills thickly covered with buildings, or fly straight at a mountain range from the sea. In a heavy, sluggish jumbo-jet any mistake could be a disaster. Most crews elected to land towards the harbour. So did the captain of Verity's plane.
The heavy jet suddenly banked sharply and Verity could see the runway. It was nowhere near in line with the plane! The engines howled and rumbled as the aircraft made a sharp turn that pressed her heavily into her seat. Suddenly apartment blocks were level with the windows, close enough to see people in their homes. It was a rather surreal sight to see when hurtling through the air in a jumbo jet. She saw one woman hanging washing on her balcony. That fleeting image was burned into Verity's memory forever. Abruptly the right wing dropped granting her a view of streets and gardens. Verity was sure they were going to crash into the city. Even if they righted now there was no way they would stop on the runway in time. They would hurtle into the harbour.
Her heart raced and adrenaline coursed through her body. Perhaps if the plane crashed in the harbour she would stand a chance. She was an excellent swimmer. She could hold her breath for a full five minutes under water. Then the left wing dropped and Verity found herself looking up at the sky rather than down at the buildings. The plane quickly levelled and came down hard. There was a bone shaking thump, then another. The aircraft shook thunderously and the engines screamed. Verity shut her eyes tight and gritted her teeth. She felt herself leaning forward in her seat as they decelerated. Had they crashed? Surely it felt more violent than this to die in an aviation accident. The plane continued to slow and rumble. Then engines quieted. She opened her eyes and heard the captain's voice over the intercom.
"Welcome to Kai Tak."
