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The Collar of the Two Skies Chapter 26

  Chapter 26 At High Altitude





The EgyptAir aircraft, a modern Airbus A320neo, looked impressive even from the tarmac. On its towering, dark blue tail fin sat the Eye of Horus, drawn in bold white and gold strokes — the ancient symbol of protection, which now seemed to watch over their direct flight to Cairo.




The cabin interior exuded an understated elegance, with seats upholstered in grey-blue eco-leather and individual screens built into the headrests. For Anemo and Simoon, having seats in row four, fairly near the front, was a first victory. However, the true blessing was discovering that the middle seat between them had remained completely empty.




‘We’ve got space,’ Anemo whispered, carefully placing the plastic carrier on the floor, precisely under the seat in front of him.




From inside the box, Remi-Bise let out a long sigh. The aircraft’s air conditioning had already begun to blow a cold draught that ruffled her whiskers, and the cramped space made her feel like a prisoner. She pressed her pink nose against the bars, staring fixedly at the aisle.




Exactly a metre away, on the parallel row of seats across the aisle, the Frosts were settling in. With an almost ritualistic gesture, the detective finally took off his famous, crumpled trench coat, folding it carefully and stuffing it into the overhead locker. As he turned around to sit down, Anemo put on a polite smile, giving a slight nod.




Without his trench coat now, Mr Frost revealed a shockingly brightly coloured checked shirt in shades of green, yellow and maroon, which screamed from a mile away: ‘I dress myself, I am my own stylist, and it doesn't take up all my time.’ Against the sober and elegant backdrop of the Egyptian airliner, Trench was quite a sight — like a toucan amongst swans, like a clown in a group of Franciscan monks.




He sat down and responded to Anemo’s smile with genuine enthusiasm.




‘Ah, we’re neighbours! What a providential coincidence! We can catch up a bit on the way to Cairo... If you don't mind, of course. My wife is already looking for a film... That’s not the case for me, I’m far too excited about this holiday. You know, I’ve never been to Egypt before.’




Trench’s mouth seemed unstoppable. The studied pauses between his words, which Anemo had grown used to after their few meetings, had vanished. The man spoke without ceasing whilst adjusting his inflatable neck pillow, whilst fastening his seatbelt; a few beads of sweat had appeared on his forehead, and at the base of his neck, the colourful collar of his shirt began to grow damp.




‘It’s clear our man is nervous, even more so than me,’ Remi thought, trying to turn all the surrounding clamour into white noise so she could fall asleep.




As the cabin crew walked down the aisle checking seatbelts, the mood lighting in the ceiling shifted subtly to a warm blue, and the plane began to taxi slowly towards the runway. The sound of the engines turned from a muffled purr into a powerful turbine roar. The aircraft gathered speed and lifted off the ground, soaring above the clouds.




For Remi, the take-off was another utterly unpleasant experience. As they climbed, her ears popped, causing a dull ache. She tried to yawn widely, to mew, moving her jaw.




‘If this ascent doesn't end quickly, I swear I’ll leave my claw marks permanently in this wretched plastic!’ she said to herself, trembling at every little vibration. She would have given anything for a finger of whiskey to numb her senses, but she remembered with annoyance a detail from Anemo’s research notes: no alcohol at all was served on board EgyptAir. Zero. No chance of salvation that way.




When the plane levelled out at cruising altitude, the flight attendants began to hand out the trays of hot food. The strong aroma of grilled chicken with spiced rice and aromatic herbs instantly filled the cabin, hitting Remi’s hypersensitive nose squarely. The completely unmusical concert of her stomach instantly reminded her of Mistral and his noisy stomach on the night of the summer solstice, just before her transformation into a cat.




‘I want to sleep!’ she told herself. ‘I want to sleep and wake up a woman.’




Across the aisle, Trench quickly finished his portion of food, wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned forward, fixing Anemo with an intense gaze:




‘You know, Mr Gale... I was looking at this little cat when we went through security. A feline of rare beauty, white as snow. In the end, Miss Remi did want something from home after all. She convinced you to bring her cat to Cairo. My wife, you know, would love such a beauty too. Do you happen to know where Miss Remi bought her from?’




Anemo swallowed hard, feeling a piece of chicken get stuck in his throat, whilst beneath the seat, Remi-Bise smiled under her whiskers, thinking it was preferable to be a cat when you had such a... voluble neighbour.





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