As Bobbie went up the escalator to the boarding lounges she looked back to see Emma standing below her, on the other side of the security gates. Usually it was her best friend and lover going up and away, on an assignment interstate, while she stayed behind and watched her go. She saw Emma wave, forlorn, by herself. It wasn't right. The long fall of Emma's hair caught a glint of sunlight from the high windows, almost a halo. Bobbie swallowed, shook her head, and with a final wave, she turned to walk into the wide open space of the upper concourse. Her eyes were misty, so she wiped them with one hand, pulling her wheeled bag with the other.

"It's always sad, isn't it, leaving someone behind." She heard a quiet voice beside her, and looked up to see an older man looking down, walking beside her. "I couldn't help notice. Are you sisters?"

People always thought that. They looked so similar with their long blonde hair and blue eyes, both little women with lithe, slim figures. Emma's anyway, Bobbie often being mistaken for a teenager. "Yah," she replied, falling into the deceit easily, not wanting to explain anything to anyone, why should she?

"I can see the love in your eyes. That's very sweet."

He was walking faster than she was, his own wheeled bag going click click on the tiled floor, and he moved on ahead. Bobbie followed him with her eyes, observing broad shoulders in a casual jacket. He walked with a smooth glide, with a hint of a slink, like a panther or some other big cat. Bobbie grinned. Whatever made her think of that? As she walked on, she began to curl fingers through her hair. Emma called her kitten, sometimes.

Bobbie smiled. You can dream on the plane, she said to herself, knowing she would, being lulled by the steady moan of the engines and the murmur of movement from the cabin crew. Work was paying, so she was flying business class, not down the back with the restless children and tired parents. She didn't like travelling much, always tried to sleep to make it go quicker.

She stopped at the boarding gate at the end of a queue, ready to scan her ticket. Her tall man was up ahead, half a dozen people in between them. The young woman at the gate suddenly smiled and looked spontaneously sexy. He must have said something to charm her. The queue moved forward, and Bobbie turned her fingers through her hair.

"Thank you ma'am," the woman said. "Down the ramp and go left, for business and first class." She looked at Bobbie, and wore too much makeup, but was attractive in that business-like way that aircraft crew have. Ma'am? Don't be ridiculous. You only said that coz you're programmed. Maybe the business class ticket gave Bobbie away, showing she was older than she looked.

"Thank you," she replied, and her mind suddenly flashed on the...

You're My Last Flight