I was flying to New York when, due to my impressive collection of miles and my penchant for sassy suits, I got an upgrade that changed my life. I’d just sat down, thankful for a comfortable seat away from the hussle and bustle of Economy and was leafing through the in-flight entertainment brochure, trying to figure out how to squeeze three movies and a few episodes of Little Britain in under six hours, when he apologized to get through to his window seat.
– “Oh my goodness! Santa is real after all!” I exclaimed.
– “I was hoping I look slightly younger than that, but I’m obviously mistaken” he replied, fastening his seat-belt. Delivered deadpan in that posh accent that drives me wild.
– “No, no, Your Majesty, you are quite handsome and that Logue has done a spectacular job; not even a hint of a stutter!” I continued, undaunted, using my fringe as camouflage while trying to apply lipstick without being noticed by my interlocutor. Risky business.
– “You’re too kkkkkind“. A hint of a smile.
– “Nnnnnnot attt all” God how lame! Change of course, quick! I shake the hair out, smile broadly, wink – irresistible. And such a sense of humour!
– “Pleased to meet you Bozo, I’m Colin” he stretches his hand out while nodding in the general direction of my chin…
Now my entire face is the exact same hue as my lipstick. I grab a tissue and rub away. The appropriate retort eludes me. I’m sweating, I’m losing it; Lionel Logue himself could not have got me to utter my name. I shut my eyes, take a long deep breath, following his methods.
Cut. Back to my bed. I’ve just woken and am still trying to hold on to the image of a smiling Colin, slowly but steadily dissolving into the spring daylight. Oh Colin! A film and a dream to match – thank you!
Marinella sings “Pes pos m’antamoses” (Pretend you met me one night in a dream, pretend you forgot me when morning came…) by Yiannis Spanos & Lefteris Papadopoulos.