The Ticket She Booked Four Times
Picture a woman named Daphne, 66, who has booked the same flight four times.
Picture a woman named Daphne, 66, who has booked the same flight four times. Each time she paid, she felt a small lift in her chest. Each time, within three weeks, she cancelled. She wants to live in a coastal town abroad, a place with a market and a sea wall where she once spent a happy fortnight. Her daughter Leila lives a short flight from it.
Her friend Selma has had coffee with her every Tuesday for twenty-two years, at Daphne's kitchen table. On a Tuesday in October Selma put down her cup and said, "Tell me the reasons. All of them, in order."
Daphne got the pad she keeps by the telephone. She wrote them down.
| Booking | The reason she gave | When it ends |
|---|---|---|
| First, two Marches ago | Her grandson's school play in May | In May |
| Second | Dental work, three visits | In six weeks |
| Third | A new roof on the house | By autumn |
| Fourth, last month | "What if I fall ill over there?" |
Selma read down the page twice. "I would have cancelled for every one of those," she said. "They are all good reasons. Only the last one has an empty space in the third column."
Daphne put down the pencil. "I know," she said. "I think I knew when I booked the second one."
"What are you afraid of?"
The answer came out fast, as if it had been waiting. "I am afraid that I will leave this table and the Tuesdays will carry on without me. And I am afraid that I will be sixty-six in a town where nobody says my name in the morning."
Selma did not tell her that neither would happen. She reached over and turned the pad so that the empty space faced Daphne. Then she said it plainly. "Two years have gone by. You were 64 when you first booked it. If the fifth one goes the way of the other four, you may be 68 and we may be doing this again."
Daphne cried, and Selma stayed in her chair. Neither of them touched the laptop for a quarter of an hour.
Then Daphne opened it herself. She chose a date in April, six months away, with a return flight left open. She pressed the button and her finger was not steady. Selma got up, filled the kettle, and stood at the stove with her back turned.
"There is one more thing," Daphne said. She picked up the phone and called Leila. She read the date aloud, once.
She did not pack that night. The empty space in the third column was still empty. Selma has promised to be at the table on the Tuesday before the flight.
You could…
- Write every reason on a page and add a column for when each one ends.
- Tell one person the date aloud, before you have packed anything.
- Ask a friend to sit with you while you press the button.
- Ask what the fourth reason would need in order to feel smaller, and look up that one answer.
Who sat beside you, or who would you want beside you, on the day you pressed the button? Add your story here.
Tell us in the comments