You may of heard about a strange woman rumoured to wander through these halls, many myths have came to be from those who claim to have seen her. Some call her the grey lady, some say the white. Some say she is a forgotten mother who haunts the places looking for her ever lost child.
I think she is a dead beggar in an airport unable to reach her destination.
It happens to be a long time since I have recounted this tale, some may of even tried to tell it in my absence.
Back in 2002, I was a runner working for some local drug dealer. It was easy money and little risk. I would pick up the keys to his car, drive to the airport, pick someone up and deliver them plus luggage to the house. No questions were ever asked and for good measure he would always pack me a nice big bag of bud in the glove box in case the flight got delayed.
One time I was so high waiting for them I got completely paranoid and thought customs had followed us home, that was before I had even left the car park.
Those simple times. I never did get caught or get into trouble over it and the one time I did get into any kind of trouble was for drink driving in my own car. Once he found out I had a ban he refused to allow me to drive his car. The irony of it seemed wasted. My criminal boss taking the side of the law.
Before I made my exit from the world of crime though I had some lessons to learn.
Strange lessons I may add. It was around 15:22 on a cold wet and windy Sunday and I had been waiting 20 minutes. Their flight was due in at 15:30 so I figured by the time they got their bags we would be on the road by 16:00 and I would be back home in time to meet the Evergreen pub's pool team for the league final. They often got rowdy on a Sunday if the opposition was late. Pool balls flying across the room. One time I saw one of their boys throw a ball across the room and land in an old man's pint.
As calm as anything the old man picked it out, walked across the room and dropped it in a pocket like nothing had happened.
My boss always used students, he would get to know them through someone working in one of his many bars. He liked them to look like couples too, pack them off for a week in Spain on an all exclusive golfing resort.
Whilst there they would be instructed to meet someone during the week and after dinner they would be escorted to their hotel with a golfers caddy bag full of whatever. I learned all this driving at top speed down the A19, whilst the guy sitting next to me was nervously rolling a joint and telling the story of the naïve couple decompressing their foray into the international world of drug smuggling.
15:23 I put the radio on, BBC radio 4. Someone with a typical posh English accent discussing the use of drone warfare and how it saves us all, pleading the case for the military to role out more of this new technology to save lives. They have probably never had a fight in their lives, but what do I know. I switch it over, some electronic mash up of something I have heard many times before comes on and I calm down and take a toke.
Its hard rain and it's looking like a rough storm. The week before I had the couple in who had told me the full operation, they claimed it was only cigarettes in the golf caddy but I had on good authority that it was something else, a little white dwarf called Charles was said to be at the centre of the conspiracy.
Maybe they never knew, it was probably better that way, less anxiety walking through customs.
Here I am barely 22 years old, sitting in a 3.2 litre injection German beast, smoking on mowee woweee wondering where the fuck i'm gonna go after the pool match, whilst picking up bonny and clyde wannabe's for fifty quid pocket money. Its funny how we can never really grasp the truth of the moment we are in. I didn’t see the plane come in for landing but I heard it. A huge crash and long shredding noise, it seemed like it lasted a long time, the whole ground was shaking. The rain was pounding hard. It was like Armageddon was about to break through.
My initial reaction. Shit!! What the fuck was that!! Before I had chance to even process it. Screaming sirens shot past, one then two then three, I stopped counting at 7, they kept coming, The pilot must of radioed a head cause they were on time and on the spot. In a state of shock and awe I left the car and walked towards the commotion.
I could see the plane out in the far field, a wide opening and lots of people running around. It actually looked very organised. The slide was out, the fire team where on hand with hoses, the ambulance already rushing in and taking people away. The whole thing looked like die hard 2 minus the fireball and inferno. Among all the commotion, I saw her, a frail looking woman with her head covered. I remember it clear as day.
I'm walking towards the field watching everything, the sounds of the helicopter over head and the sirens and shouting of voices and she's standing there as if she has dropped something. She doesn’t notice the commotion she is just looking left and right at the ground. It was only as a paramedic was running past did I see it. She stopped him mid run and said something to him, I was to far away to hear it but I could see his face clearly enough to know he looked puzzled.
I walked towards the crash zone expecting the worse, by the time I had got anywhere near the police had already took over the area and instructed us to get back, if anything I thought it was interesting and exciting, after all I wasn't hurt and imagine the story I get to tell tonight at the pool match. Suddenly out of no where she appeared in the crowd, people ran in all directions she was shouting something about Allah, swinging a huge machete, I didn’t know what to do, I was still in panic, I think everyone was, the crowd had spread and I was face to face with a woman in a burkha swinging a very handsome sized machete in front of me.
For some reason though I wasn't really scared, I didn’t actually believe she had any intention of doing anything with it, I stood there, God knows why and just stared at her whilst she carried on ranting something that I couldn't understanding whilst swinging into thin air.
After maybe a couple of seconds the police shot her with a taser-gun. The place was in absolute pandemonium. Ambulance staff didn’t know what to do, the fire men still dealing with a huge lump of dead metal, it looked as if the landing gear had failed. The plain was sitting there still like an old dog after its just been chasing the cat. It looked fucked.
I tried to make sense of it all, I'm almost certain that a part of me was born that day. A cynical side that could find humour in the worst of situations. She was on the floor shaking with 6 heavy set police men all shouting and holding her whilst the rain soaked all of them. She wasn't resisting, She was as fucked as the plane.
Some idiot in the crowd was shouting something about terrorists taking over the plane.
They began shouting abuse at the wretched hag underneath the weight of the law.
I couldn't understand them. She was harmless. Albeit it she looked the part but I stood my ground and she didn't move an inch or ever look to be about to come any closer, she was certainly frustrated I'll say that, but like I said, you never know.
I walked back towards the car with a young paramedic lady asking me if I was alight. I was. I asked about the people on board the plane, she assured me no one was hurt and that a combination of the storm and an unserviced plane had been the cause. She told me to wait in the car till the police come for a statement. I waited for about as long as it took for her to be out of sight and drove off like a shot, at the first lay by I phoned the boss and told him, he said don't worry about it and get the fuck home. I never did find out what happened to the smugglers. Next time I was to drive I would tell the story to the couple and they would just look at each other. Luckily it wasn't them I suppose.
The following weeks the news was dominated with the story of the terror attack on board the plane and amazing stories of the brave actions of a couple of air hostess and the quick thinking action of the captain. Not one mention of the woman. Strange that.
As I sat writing this I was approached by a woman in a hajib asking if I can spare some change for her so she can get to El Salvador. I looked her in her eyes, I was almost sure I had seen her before.
