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Gratitudeseized her.Sheknew he was talking to keep her distracted.
Jacquessaid something andGabrielreplied, ‘Readyor not, here we go.’
Thehelicopter sped up, and she tensed.Thecraft swung into a circular pattern, her body shifting more towards horizontal than vertical and straining against her harness as they banked steeply.Sherefused to open her eyes.Partof her prepared to scream, but she bit her tongue, not wanting to burst anyone’s eardrums.Instead, she swore loudly.FromGabriel, she heard an exuberantyee-hah.Hewas moreAmericanthan she thought.Asthe copter went round and round, theG-force pressed her back into her seat even as her braid flopped across her face towards the earth.
Sheunderstood what he meant about the nausea.Itcame on suddenly and fiercely as the helicopter rotated over its target.Howcould he even take pictures in this scenario?Howcould he keep calm enough to remember how to operate a camera?
Andthen, just as quickly as it started, it ended.Herbraid settled.Theforce lessened.Onlya ghost of the nausea lingered.
‘Youokay?’Gabrielasked as he scrolled through the images on the back of his camera like they hadn’t been in a human centrifuge for the past minute.
Allshe could do was nod.
‘Ifyou need to vomit, let me know.Ihave some bags.’
Whata gentleman. ‘No.’Herbrain performed a quick diagnostic of her stomach. ‘IthinkI’mokay.’
Forthe next fifteen minutes, they alternated between getting wide landscape shots and targeting specific patterns on the ground.Sheappreciated the speed at whichJacquesandGabrielworked.Onlyonce didGabrielneed to ask for a second twirly whirly, as she called them, because he hadn’t gotten the right angle the first time.
Onthe third or fourth orbit (she lost count),Jessmanaged to crack one eye open.Gabrielwas hanging as far out as the harness would let him, camera lens trained on the ground, his two-tone hair flapping in the wind like those inflatable air dancers outside car dealerships.Shehad to admire his bravery.Shewould be too scared to do that.
Bythe same token, she would have laughed if someone had told her earlier today she would be sitting in a helicopter aboveVersaillesthat evening.Yethere she was.Funnyhow quickly life could change.Shewished she could sendKrisha pic of what she was up to with a message, something like: ‘Isaid yes to something else.’
Thiswas definitely taking her mind off the fact that she was supposed to be getting a ring on her finger about now.
Bythe fifth orbit, she managed to keep her eyes wide open.Bythe sixth, she started to enjoy the view.Theywere spinning over the gardens closest to the big house when she noticed something cute about them. ‘It’sa face!’ she said with excitement.
Indeed, the design of the landscaping below resembled a smiling cartoon bear, with two round algae-covered pools for eyes, a fountain in the middle of another oval pool for a nose, and a happy smile made out of shrubbery.Jesslaughed.Whenthey settled again,Gabrielnudged her with his elbow and showed her the images on the back of his camera.
‘Wow,’ she said.Whatmore could she say?Theman was talented. ‘Whatdo you do with the people in the photo?Doyou just…?’Shemade an erasing motion with her finger.
‘Sometimes, but not always.Ithink they give a sense of scale.’
‘Andthe shadows?’Shenoticed the black, tooth-like shapes on the ground to the left of some shrubs, reminding her of spikes on a collar. ‘Isthat why you schedule these shoots at the end of the day?Sothe shadows are more interesting?’Shehadn’t dated a photographer for two years and learnt nothing.
‘Exactly!’ he said with enthusiasm. ‘IfI’mshooting for colour, like shorelines whereI’mcreating more abstract work, thenI’llshoot late morning or early afternoon.Butfor cities, sunrise or sunset is best.Theshadows help to give it a more 3D effect.Morevisual interest.’Shehad to smile at how earnest he looked while explaining this all to her, his face open and animated—a distant stranger to the serious man she’d met earlier.
Sherealised that he loved what he did.Itmade her feel a connection to him.Sheloved teaching, too.Itdidn’t gift her a lot ofyee-hahmoments, but she found it satisfying.Thatlook on her children’s faces when they were discovering something new gave her all the feels.
Hetouched her on the hand and her eyes snapped to his face.Heleaned towards her and pointed through the front of the helicopter. ‘LookatVersailles.’
Jessturned her head to observe the long baroque building, covered in windows like keys on a piano.
Gabrielcontinued, ‘Seehow the light is hitting it?’
‘It’sglowing,’ she said with wonder.Thebeige stone blushed orange in the diminishing sunshine, and light bounced off the glass, making the whole edifice pop out from the landscape.Thehelicopter swung around and hovered, so thatGabrielcould shoot the gardens with the massive building at the top.Jesspeered over his shoulder.Thebeauty of the vista made her gasp, and the sight imprinted itself on her memory.Fora moment, emotion overcame her, and she choked on a silent sob.
Howlucky was she to be seeingVersaillesfrom this angle, high above the earth, high above the people in the gardens?Thebodies down there might be from any era: that one could beMarieAntoinette; another one could be a mother pushing a pram while reading her phone; still another could be a projection ofJessas a tourist tomorrow.Past, present or future.Itcould all be going on at the same time down there, but she hovered above, one of them, but not one of them.Outof time and space.Astrong sense of being separate from everyday life, but at the same time connected intimately to the earth flowed through her.
Thatbuilding down there oversaw hundreds of years of history, seen millions of people, each with their own worries, concerns, hopes and dreams.
Likea switch flipping,Jessknew that she would survive.Krishhad left her.Sowhat?Inthe grand scheme of things, it didn’t matter.Jesswould go on.Lifewould go on.Theearth would go on.
Thiswas her tiny little story, and it was up to her to make it a happy one.
Maybehe’d done her a favour.Maybethey were just never meant to be.
Atear slipped from her eye and blew away in the wind.
