“She keeps saying that if you are ever in her part of the world to let her know. Do it for me, pleeease? She’s my Mum’s coolest friend and was always good to me as a kid. Look at the wedding gift she got us? Who buys an original Vettriano sketch for a wedding present? Come on, admit it, you know she’s cool. Please, go and see her?”
James closed his eyes before the flight had taken off and started to drift. Aircraft did that to him when on taxi. That low rumble of large aircraft tyres across the tarmac and the dimmed lights before take off. He hadn’t removed his jacket yet due to the impatient person next to him insisting that they had to sit down as fast as possible when boarding. Why the rush he thought, you’re not driving the damn thing! He slowly slipped into that lovely warm darkness before sleep takes hold.
Sally’s ‘aunt’ was really special. She had a style about her that turned heads. At the funeral of Sally’s Dad, Aunt Sienna arrived that morning from New York, was delivered to the Church in a black chauffeur driven car and left to fly home after the service. James had seen her speak to a few people, however, the majority of the time was with Sally and her Mother. Despite the invitations to the funeral asking people to wear something colourful, Aunt Sienna wore black from head to toe, and looked stunning. A year later she came to their wedding, with the famous sketch. She said to them that ‘Jack’ wished them all the happiness in the world too.
James had been so caught up with all the guests at the wedding he was quite taken aback when Aunt Sienna approached him to ask for a dance. He of course accepted out of formality, however, his time gliding around the floor in the aura of Aunt ‘S’ left a lasting impression.
Aunt Sienna, or Aunt ‘S’ as she preferred, maintained an average height of 5′ 9″ in heels. She had a mediterranean complexion with dark brown eyes and black shoulder length wavy hair. Her accent, however, was that of a Chelsea socialite, which was probably shaped in the 1960’s. She was, as one wedding guest put it, ‘Sex on a stick.’
The flight was uneventful as James had slept the majority of it. Aside from his neighbour wanting to use the bathroom he slept most of the way with the crew being kind enough not to disturb him until approach in to JFK. Once he had cleared the painfully slow US immigration queues, passing through customs with just hand luggage was easier.
To his surprise a driver stood immediately to his front in arrivals carrying a large sign with his name on. He passed an envelope to James, which he duly opened.
‘Hello James, welcome to New York. My driver will look after you. It’s about time we got round to you finally fucking me. Aunt S. X’