booked and paid for, including any meals I ordered while I was there. I’d explained to Sheridan that I felt bad about being unable to contribute, but she’d made it very clear that I had nothing to worry about.
‘As if I’d let you spend a dime,’ she’d said, ‘when you’re good enough to travel all this way.’
It was true. Couples were meant to travel to their donors for the first meeting. But because of work and other restrictions, they’d asked me to go to them. Besides, if we decided to go ahead, a generous deposit would be hitting my bank account. I looked around the airport, trying to figure the screens out. I’d been told to pack light; just enough for a long weekend. Wheeling my hand luggage, I joined the line at the British Airways check-in desk.
‘You didn’t need to queue.’ The young girl behind the counter smiled. ‘You’re booked into first class. Why don’t you pop into the first-class lounge, and you’ll be called when the plane is ready to board?’
I stared at the ticket as she handed it back. ‘Are you sure?’ First-class flights to America did not come cheap. ‘I mean . . .’ I cleared my throat as I prepared to lie. ‘My prospective employers bought me the ticket. I didn’t expect to be first class.’
‘Lucky you,’ the girl said with a hint of envy in her voice. ‘They’re obviously very keen.’
I took a deep breath, following her directions to the lounge. Sitting with a coffee and pastry, I pushed aside my worries and reflected how lucky I’d been to find my mystery couple. How generous. They must really want me. May as well enjoy it, I thought. Perhaps it was time to let down my guard. It was a once-in-a-lifetime trip, after all.
The eight-hour flight passed much quicker than I expected, and my nerves dissipated after a few hours on board. I felt like royalty, but swapped the glasses of fizz that were offered for orange juice instead. Amidst all the excitement I could not lose sight of the fact that this trip was for the baby, not me. At least I’d arrive in New York with a clear head. My morning sickness was abating, and I was too excited to think about it very much. I knew so little about the arrangements that lay ahead; only that someone was meeting me when I got off the plane. What a lovely change, to be staying in a hotel rather than cleaning it. At the end of the day, I told myself, if they abandon me in New York I’ll go to the Irish embassy for help. And if I really got desperate – and I mean really – I had just enough money on my high-interest credit card to afford a one-way flight home.
Two in-flight movies and a relaxing snooze later, I awoke to discover we were shortly touching down. My heart skipped a beat as I stared out of the window, my eyes on the landscape below. My fingers tightened around my armrests, my stomach somersaulting as the airplane came to ground with the slightest of bumps. I prayed for a successful conclusion. I had not come all this way to back out now.
I searched the sea of faces as I made my way through the airport, coming to a standstill as I glimpsed a man holding up a card with my name on it. I was sweating like a pig, but there was no time for a freshen-up now. Was this one half of my mystery couple, or a driver they had sent? My legs felt weak. Who would have thought that I would be in JFK airport, meeting strangers whose names I didn’t even know? A wave of dizziness came over me as I eyed up the police officers armed with guns. The fact I was in a country where firearms were freely available was not lost on me. Straightening my step, I told myself to be strong. I was constantly in awe of the police, but given I had never put a foot wrong my whole life, I couldn’t explain why.
‘Rosalind, I presume?’ the suited man said, holding his hand out towards me. He was broad, tanned and wearing sunglasses. He looked like a driver, so I presumed he was.
I shook his hand, then realised he was reaching for my luggage instead. ‘Sorry,’ I said, a flush rising to my face. My trouser suit may have seemed like a good