Rashoman 6 -- Singapore to the UK -- Part Two
When I finally arrived in the evening at Heathrow Dee was there to meet me. I hired a car and the hotel was about 30 minutes from the airport. We booked in and as soon as we got to our bedroom it was like a second wedding night -- but without any of Rod and his 'Mickey Finns', when he spiked Dee's orange juice at our wedding reception and ruined our wedding night in Singapore! Dee was soon removing her dress and she fulfilled every young man's erotic dreams; a vision of loveliness in the sexiest set of black stockings and suspenders imaginable;
This was the first time I'd seen her like this. Singapore dress for European women was more cotton dresses, minimal underwear and bare legs. The sight of her was like a whiplash to my senses and the next couple of hours passed in a haze of champagne, unbridled sex, lots of talking then more unbridled ... you get the idea. Eventually we were satiated and as we recovered we started catching up on what we'd been doing since we'd last seen each other.
I didn't really have much to tell her about my adventures in Malaysia. All I can really remember were the sand flies, mossies, leeches, working eighteen-hour days and how the odd letter from her that made its way from UK really cheered me up. I was especially interested in her earliest letter which she'd written soon after arriving in England. In it she said that en route back to UK her aircraft had to divert and refuel at Tehran airport in Iran instead of Bahrain because of bad weather in the Arabian Gulf. They'd been there for a couple of hours and she'd had a bit of an adventure at the airport ... but left it at that. That, of course, intrigued me and I couldn't wait until she'd told me more.
After our initial burst of enthusiasm Dee was now sat on the edge of the bed, smoking a cigarette and looking quite radiant. So, I asked her what had happened at Tehran airport. She paused for a moment as though collecting her thoughts and smiled broadly before going on;
'Ah yes... Well, I have to say it was all very unexpected and all a bit of a shock. It's going to sound far-fetched and you probably won't believe me - but here goes. Anyway, a few hours after we left Singapore we were told that we wouldn't be stopping at Bahrain because of bad weather and would have to refuel at Tehran international airport instead. I'd been given the sleeping pills as usual and when we arrived at Tehran I was just waking up. I actually felt a bit spaced out, almost like the night of the party Jo's place with those US marines. But don't worry -- I hadn't been smoking 'funny fags' and there were no US marines on board this flight!'
'We disembarked and were told wait in the airport terminal. There would be food and drink provided if we wanted and as soon as the aircraft was ready we'd be called forward and we'd be off again -- they thought we'd be there about two hours. We could wander around the shopping concourse but listen for announcements about our flight.'
'We went through Iranian immigration control and were given temporary visas to get back to the departure lounge. I wandered around the shopping concourse for a while but soon found it wasn't much to talk about although there were some beautiful Persian carpets I admired in one of the shops. The concourse itself was very busy with locals and after a while I noticed that some of them were watching me in a way that made me feel distinctively nervous. I was still wearing that white sweater and red skirt so I knew it was a bit eye catching - and I decided to go back to the departure gate.'
'Rather stupidly I'd put my in-flight bag down while I was looking at the carpets but when I turned to pick it up it was gone! It was only out of my sight for a few seconds and in addition to my personal stuff it had my passport and all my money and travel documents in it -- and now I was in a foreign airport, on the wrong side of the immigration control and I knew the aircraft could be going at any time!'
'I couldn't see any airport officials or any of the other passengers on my flight and to my mind some of the local men now looked distinctly predatory. I started to panic and didn't know what to do next. Then I heard a voice behind me saying something loudly in English -- but with a strong Glasgow accent. I literally spun round ... and there was 'Scottish' John smiling at me - and carrying my bag!'
'I mean to say... I was stunned, flabbergasted... call it what you will. The last time I'd seen him was in Singapore when I had that attack of tonsillitis. I thought I'd never see him again so what was he doing here in Tehran...? But I didn't care - all I felt was an overwhelming sense of relief at seeing him and that everything would be OK. I just rushed at him, flung my arms around him and burst into tears. He held me for few seconds and then there was an announcement on the airport tannoy system for my flight. I looked at him and he grabbed my hand and said 'Let's go' and we almost sprinted for the immigration control.
'When we arrived other passengers from my flight already waiting to go through to the departure lounge. John and I joined the queue and as we did he explained that he'd been stuck at Tehran for two days as his aircraft from Borneo had broken down there and he and some others on the flight had been off loaded and re scheduled on to my flight. He'd seen me wandering around the terminal and was about to come across and speak when he saw me put my bag down and go and look at the carpets in the shop. He'd seen a couple of locals eyeing up the bag but nipped in before them and claimed it for himself. As you know, John can look quite formidable when he wants, so they didn't argue with him.'
That I could believe. John wasn't all that tall but he was powerfully built and from Glasgow; he'd grown up in the Gorbals. As a result, he had a real charisma -- and also black belts in judo and karate.