I hardly noticed the crashing sound, or the voices shouting but a firm though gentle hand gripped my own and lifted the blade away from my flesh leaving nothing but a barely visible scratch.

“Come on now, Miss, nothing is that bad surely.”

I looked up and released the knife, letting it fall onto the surface of the table with a thud and a metallic ring.

Standing over me, smiling warmly, was a policeman.

“It's all right, Miss, we've got you,” he said benignly.

At the same time I could see my next door neighbour behind him, her hand to her mouth.

“Oh, thank God,” she repeated over and over. “I knew somefink was wrong when you din't answer me knockin'.”

“Let me go, please,” I whispered. “Just let me die here, now.”

“Now then, Miss, that's enough of that,” the genial constable spoke gently. “What is it that has got you into such a state?”

“She's gone.”

“Who's gone, Miss?” he asked, crouching beside me.

“The only friend I ever had,” I replied, turning my tear filled, bloodshot eyes towards him. “She's dead.”

As the words left my mouth I opened my hand to reveal the piece of paper containing the flight information. He took it and read it and his face became grave.

“I see, Miss. I am so sorry. She was on board this flight?”

I nodded but then frowned.

“Why are you here?” I asked them both, quietly. “How did you get in?”

My neighbour answered before the policeman had the chance.

“It were my fault, Karen,” she blurted. “The postman were knockin', said 'e 'ad a telegram for yer but yer weren't answerin' the door. I tried meself a couple o' times. I could 'ear the radio on so I knew you was in. When I couldn't get no reply I 'phoned yer airline and spoke to a Mrs. Barnes. She were really concerned and called the Police!”

I let my head fall back onto my arms resting on the table.

“Please,” I whispered, “Just go. Let me have peace...”

“But Karen, the telegram...”

I didn't reply but closed my eyes, wishing I could pass away and be left alone.

Instead I heard the tearing of paper, an envelope being opened and then a rustle followed by the policeman's voice.

“Missed flight, stop, Catch next, stop, Home tomorrow, stop, Sorry, stop. It is signed Jemima.”

My heart stopped and then leapt into my mouth. The policeman handed me the telegram and I stared at it with shaking hands.

“She... she m... missed it,” I stuttered, my lips trembling with emotion and the tears rolling silently down my cheeks.

It was at that moment I realised what I hadn't noticed! I had counted forty-four gravestones including Jemima's but the newsreader had said 'killing all forty-three passengers and crew'. I threw my arms around the constable's neck and sobbed into his shoulder. I felt him put his arm uncertainly around my shoulder.

“There, there, Miss. It's all over now.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” I said, lifting my head and brushing the tears from the shoulder of his tunic.

“That's all right,” he assured me. “Do you have somewhere you can go until Miss Jemima gets back? I don't think you should be alone.”

“I'll stay if yer like, Karen,” my neighbour volunteered, “My Bert won't mind fer one night.”

“That is very sweet of you, Mrs. Kenny, thank you.” In truth, I was grateful for her company, I was exhausted now, my body ached and my head was pounding.

As he turned to leave the constable looked at me.

“If I may give a little amateur advice, Miss. Quite often, things do not happen in the way you might expect. Whatever the future has in store for you always stop and think before taking such drastic measures. You never know what lies just around the corner. Good luck, Miss,” and before I had the chance to thank him, he was gone.

I turned to Mrs. Kenny.

“He is right, you know,” she said with a smile.

I nodded in agreement.

“I know,” and then, “You can sleep in the spare room. The sheets are clean.” 

"Oh no, luvvie, don't you worry. I'm all right in the chair. You go an' get some sleep.”

“Thank you,” I replied gratefully, “You are a good neighbour.”

As I turned towards the stairs she called after me.

“Karen, You don't need to worry. I won't tell anyone. If anyone asks, it was a misunderstandin', all right?”

“Thank you, Mrs Kenny,” I repeated and smiled.

I didn't bother to undress but lay on the bed as I was and in no time, was fast asleep.

I was woken by something touching my cheek. It tickled and I tried to brush it away but, moments later, it was there again and this time I opened my eyes. It was still dark but, in the orange glow from the street lamps outside I could make out the silhouette of a figure, bending over me. My eyes focussed slowly and suddenly I jumped up and screamed.

“Jemima!” I threw my arms around her neck and kissed her passionately.

She held me tightly against her.

“Don't ever leave me again!” I begged her, burying my face into her slender neck.

“I won't, my Love, I promise,” she whispered back. “Mrs. Kenny told me what happened, I'm so sorry.”

“Where is she?” I asked, lifting my head.

“I sent her home but she also said that she won't tell anyone about us.”

I pulled her tightly against me once more.

“I don't care if she does. I want to shout it from the roof tops.” I laughed with the sheer relief of having her safely back home with me.

“I know what you mean,” she giggled “But maybe not a good idea.”

“I know,” I laughed, “I won't.”

That day sealed my fate. Never again would I fly and neither did Jemima. I resigned from the airline which must have been somewhat of a relief for the management but my leaving brought more tears from my colleagues and myself. I was sad to end what I had always seen as my dream come true but an air stewardess who couldn't fly? Like a butterfly without wings.

We sold the house in Hayes and moved everything to my father's farm in France. Jemima, being the gifted businesswoman she was turned it into a successful dairy producer, using her old contacts to buy the most up to date equipment and employing local people to operate the machinery and ship our produce. This turned out to a much better idea than the old, dilapidated house in Limoges.

My dad and Françoise spent the rest of their lives living happily together. They remained in her house and when Françoise passed away in Nineteen-Ninety, just days after her ninetieth birthday, my father soon followed her..

Sadly, Pascale and Renée didn't stay together for long. Renée left her for another woman. Pascale was upset at first but the relationship had gone stale anyway so, after a few weeks staying with us, she returned to Limoges where she eventually met and married a nice young man who provided her with two children, a boy and a girl. The girl they named Karen and the boy, Dominic.

And Dominique? Sadly, she never married but was to die at a young age in a road accident not unlike her father except that no drunks were involved. She was travelling in a military ambulance to tend to an airman who had been crushed under a fallen crate. On the way there, the ambulance suffered a puncture, careered off the road and turned over. She was in the back without a seatbelt and was killed instantly when her head came into contact with the sharp corner of an equipment locker.

The Air Force arranged a funeral service for her in the Cathedral and she was interred with full military honours in the family plot in Limoges Cemetery.

And me? Well, of course, Jemima and I lived 'happily ever after' as all the best fairy tales end.

When that beautiful sunny day in June 1951 began, I could not have imagined how the next twenty-four hours would change my life, and the lives of so many people, so completely and that it really would be, 'The Last Flight'.

The End.