escort diary® of Victoria Knight: ## Melbourne, Then the Middle Seat
I had intended to catch up on messages in the Virgin lounge.
That was the practical plan.
Find a quiet seat, open the laptop, reply properly, remain discreet. Simple enough. Except I had just come from two days in Melbourne that had left me in a rather receptive state, and there were a few conversations on OF I was genuinely curious to return to.
I chose a seat far, far, down the back.
A man still managed to sit beside me.
There is a specific kind of panic that belongs to a courtesan with an open laptop with OF in the browser in public. Quiet, swift, almost elegant if one is feeling generous. The screen came down and I resumed the expression of a woman doing nothing at all suspicious.
The flight home did not improve my privacy. Middle seat. No Wi-Fi. Two strangers. A small bottle of airline sparkling.
So I had time to think.
My thoughts were not especially respectable.
They went back to Melbourne: the cleverness, the touch, the unnervingly handsome gentleman who is still taking up more space in my mind than he was invited to.
I wrote the version with fewer omissions on OF.
Some stories are better told after landing, with the door closed.
