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"You should have been a fashion designer, Colleen," says ether "You spend every flight obsessing aboutshort hauls, we’re too busy to doan air hostess is so a bar hauls over the Atlantic, however, hours of boredo, and envy Soer, flatter his taste, and pick up the names of exclusive tailors in Paris, London, or Milan I tell them the information is for et buzzed past the front door, but that’s not really the point

Meanwhile I spend every flight in a white polyester blouse, green polyester jacket and green polyester slacks All that green makes me look airsick The only reason I work for this airline is that all the others in the European Union make female attendants wear skirts, and I won’t

"Auntie Colleen doesn’t like frills," is how my sister explains it

No frills, no lace, no perfume, no fancy haircuts; just me, with ulations) and the lowest heels I can get aith Transcontinental flights are hard on the body enough without shoes that pinch your toes or heels

Like tonight, for instance We’re thirty thousand miles over the ocean and four hours froers are asleep but 5B keeps ringing his bell: another soda water please, a ballpoint pen please, do I have another pillow? If I have to get up one more tihseat and bow over a little

"Are you okay?" Linda asks

"Fine," I lie "It’s that time of the month"

In the lavatory, I try to will the pain away But you can’t deny Sorrohen she co Someone on this plane is about to die or lose a loved one Maybe 3A, immaculate in pinstripe Yves St Laurent, will suffer a stroke Maybe 5B will ardless of his H Hunts for the woman in Economy who tried to sneak herself past the curtain to the first class lavatory, or for the American soldier a fes behind her

Another crae, snakes writhing in her hair Her tears rattle the hull like hail We bounce again The fasten seatbelt indicator chi tune ht hear it in their dreale note Not unless they carry the blood of the Great Houses She’s co for one of them or one of their kin

Hunched over on the toilet lid, I sing and sing

I’m twenty-four years old and I’al

Luckily no one on this flight is likely to report me to the Queen of the Fairies for a code violation

When Sorrow departs and I step back outside, Linda’s flipping through the pages of a ers are all asleep or absorbed in their computers I peek past the curtain to Econo as well

The Ah He’s a ripping the aisle araze is fixed out theat the wing Later, when I’, I can see the nareatest houses in all of Irish history

Chances are, I was singing for hiain Small shame, that He’s handsome indeed, and he wears his unifor on his head A girl like me could use an outfit like that Maybe it’s not too late foroff a late flight in my tiny apartment in Dublin when my phone buzzes: See Maeve

Two si ray sweater vest and pressed trousers and waterproof boots Noveray trenchcoat as well

"Still you dress like a boy," says Loman when I let e

"And still you sound like a tea kettle crawled up your sinuses," I retort Loman’s a leprechaun, but you wouldn’t know it unless you had the Sight Otherwise he’s just another short man with a prim mustache and poor taste in off-the-rack suits

"And your so very pleasant disposition, also unchanged," he sniffs "Don’t drip on the carpet"

The office rese firm stranded in time, with typewriters and carbon paper and a rotary phone The faded newspapers on the table still talk about the Troubles But it’s not as if someone’s likely to stumble by and notice; you have to have fey blood in you just to find the front door Maeve’s inner office is barely big enough for a desk, a filing cabinet, and athat overlooks the Liffey River

And for Maeve herself, six feet and six inches tall, with fiery red hair and bright white teeth She looks irl squirnore women’s fashion as much as possible but let’s just say that A-line skirt doesn’t flatter her hips at all