Well I did my best.
I asked them at the check-in desk and I asked again at boarding.
I asked the kind young stewardess who showed me to my capacious and luxurious seat and she asked the smiling dapper cabin manager who then came to see me. So I asked him too.
He went off and asked the ultimate arbiter, the flight manager who also came to see me and, yes you’ve guessed it, I asked him.
Oh how I asked him. I used all the obsequious charm I’d picked up during my two years in Northern Borneo. I smiled my Mackworth grin and shook his hand like I was his long lost son.
And he said YES! It certainly was perfectly possible for my family to join me in the exclusive business class cabin. It was only half full, after all and he could quite understand how I might be lonely parted from them for a full ten hour flight. All I had to do was pay a £550 upgrade fee – each - and they could leave the cramped hell I’d consigned them to and scamper forward to the roomy acres at the front of the plane.
As you might guess, I declined his kind offer and settled disconsolately into my deeply padded recliner and tried to come to terms with my failure as I tucked into my Tian of Seafood with Mesculine salad, followed by Fillet of Beef with green peppercorn sauce served onto china plates (silver service, of course) and a very pleasant, if a little fruity, cheeky glass of red.
Somehow I recovered. I’m not sure Helen, May and Roshan have though.
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