“Mary, Ms Donaldson it’s time I’m afraid; I’ve made some coffee,” the cabin hostess of the Bombardier DB-700 Global Express XRS aircraft quietly spoke as she placed a silver service tray containing freshly brewed coffee, an assortment of interestingly delightful delicacies, a single rose and the nights phone messages on the dresser beside a compact but comfortable full length bed.

She continued, “I do so dislike waking you when you look this comfortable and content. We are ninety minutes out from San Francisco. The pilot has asked me to be the bearer of his bad news I’m afraid. Apparently, we have been pushing into a head wind all night and can’t drop you at Palo Alto Airport as we will be too light to legally take off, even for the quick hop over to Norman Mineta International. He has asked if you wouldn’t mind taking the freeway back to Palo Alto from Mineta as Palo doesn’t have the facilities to offer fuel to this aircraft. I’ve informed your driver, he will have your personal assistant waiting at our San Jose hanger so you can be brought up to speed en route to the office, in the traffic.”

“Breakfast will be in the dining cabin, when you are ready. If you could place any personal effects you want transferred to the limousine as hand luggage over here, please. The remainder we will pack and have placed in the trunk. I’ll leave you to freshen up.”

Mary erased the remaining sleep from her psychic, offering a smile and a barely audible, “Thank you Julia,” to the cabin hostess as she quickly vanished behind the closing door of the corporate jet stateroom.

It had been a hectic two and a half days, five hours in Malaysia, a banquette and over-night stay in China and a three hour meeting on the tarmac at Tokyo airport, before commencing this non-stop flight across the pacific.

Mary sat up on the side of the bed to re-cover her thoughts while sipping coffee and agonized over a rum truffle or an orange ‘mint’, but settled on a strawberry while searching for glasses to decipher what the top message was trying to explain. It has been sixteen years since she last drew air through a cigarette yet somehow she still looked for an open packet lying somewhere as she does every morning, before admonishing herself yet again.

The message confirmed her worst fear, it said, “Mumsie, all the guys are going to Switzerland for summer break, but my allowance won’t stretch that far, please Mumsie can I have a raise just this once, the trip will be ever so educational.”

Mary shook her head in embarrassment, thinking how her office staff would have had a good laugh and joyfully patched that call through to the plane. God, if the labour representatives at the assembly plant get hold of this, the line workers will walk all over us, at tomorrow’s award negotiations. I can see the headline now, “Stingy CEO – Nothing for Workers - Switzerland for Daughter,” Mary thought as she allowed her mind to wonder back just seventeen years, to the night when her eldest daughter held the torch while she swang around in the rafters like a monkey putting silicon sealant in obvious holes to try and stop the house from flooding further, because she couldn’t afford to replace the old roof. “What I would have given then for someone with the money to pay for a holiday in Switzerland at the end of a phone,” Mary pondered as she entered the shower and adjusted the steaming hot water to do it’s work on some tied bones.

Makeup, a conservative tie for her silky grey hair, smart shoes and a business suit from the wardrobe completed the day’s appearance preparation. There was a quick reminder of the leaky roof as her eyes passed the quant black lacy number she was wearing last night in China. Remembering how she had paid thirteen thousand dollars in Milan, almost twenty nine thousand if the jewellery and shoes are thrown in. The roof ended up costing four thousand three hundred she recalled, as she picked up her briefcase and moved through to the dinning cabin in time to observe her breakfast of toast, a pouched egg and juice, being placed in front of the seat she was heading for.

Julia, placed a napkin for Mary before pouring coffee, all accompanied by her delightful smile, then quickly left obviously heading forward to offer the pilots a refill. Mary began to read, and shuffle as she seemingly rearrange papers in her briefcase, occasional interrupting herself to allow a fork to travel to her mouth or sip at the coffee.

A few calls were made to Europe and one to Asia on the satellite phone, plus some notes made to remind her of some local issues to be sorted at the office. Picking up her briefcase she moved forward to the general seating area, where she freshened up in the forward washroom, before sitting to catch up on some reading. Meanwhile Julia had packed the luggage and secured it all near the forward door, as she readied the plane for landing.

Mary allowed herself a quick smile upon hearing some of the communications from the cockpit while the door was open. They informed customs of the flight manifest, “One passenger, and three crew, returning non-stop from Japan.” Names were passed back and forward with customs obviously being satisfied, clearing them sight unseen. The Air Traffic Control communication didn’t seem to go so well, they had obviously been given instructions to slow down and join the queue in accordance with the tagging sequence, behind a gaggle of lethargic commercial flights. The co-pilot rather abruptly explained, as he always does, that they didn’t have time or fuel to wait in-line behind some oversized ‘cattle carriers.’ Eventually, they were given the usual approval to approach at higher speed in open airspace for a landing on the take-off runway, with all taking-off flights being temporary held while they make their final approach. This right of passage ritual occurs every time they approach San Jose, it is how the Air Traffic Controllers establish that the pilots know where to go when they touch-down; having them stop and ask directions on the ground throws everyone into total chaos. It’s always something of a buzz to look out the window and see large passenger planes being overtaken as they approach the airfield.

Julia eventually sat down for few seconds as they touched the runway before jumping up and flowing backwards and forwards doing more then seemed possible for one person. The pilots steered them away from the passenger terminal complex towards there private hanger on the opposite side of the airfield, stopping such that Mary was able to step from the plane straight into her limonene and within seconds was on the way to the office.

True to prediction, her personal assistant Jason was in the car armed with a gambit of documents and conversation to maximise the time taken to negotiate the Central Expressway for the twelve mile trip to Palo Alto. The traffic wasn’t so bad nor had the wheels of industry stopped during the trip. It was just after eight in the morning when they reached the office. Before walking in Mary asked Jason, “Some fatherly advice, please? Would you pay for a trip for your youngest to go play in the Swiss Alps over the summer break?”

Jason laughed and replied, “I have to be careful here, we have the same problem at home. My Eldest wants to backpack around Europe and Joanne would prefer we pay so he can stay in hotels and catch the train. I had to drive a Cab and get loans to put myself through Stanford. I promised myself, all my kids would come out of University without any debts or a Cab licence. My son worked at McDonalds to save for his trip to Europe and he wants to do it rough, that’s the appeal. He knows he can dial collect if he gets in a bind. Would I pay, I’m not sure? Talk to Joanne she will tell you yes if that’s what you want to hear. But don’t mention anything about Ducati 999R Motorcycles please.”

Mary replied, “Thanks Jason, I’ll keep your name out of the conversation I’m going to have with my daughter tonight. I’ll bite, what’s the story with the motorbike?”

Jason smiled and explained how he bought himself a Ducati last Christmas and how Joanne has started going to the garage just to look at the thirty three thousand dollar extravagance when she wants to stay cranky with him.

Mary replied. “Oh, I see. Well I guess I should have you take me for a ride on this thirty three thousand dollar toy one day, so I can understand you better.”

Jason just looked and said, “Oh, so now Joanne gets another convert; It’s only got one seat.”

Mary looked across at him through a bright eyed grin, “Yes, now I am interested. One seat you say, I might just have to get one of these things. It sounds much better value then a black dress and some trinkets. My poor daughter, Switzerland will just have to wait until she can pay her own way. How else will she ever be able to decide whether first class is worth the effort or cost?”