It’s the quick and the dead in the mile high kiss-and-tell market.
Overnight rumour had it that ”Fiennes Romance” Qantas hostie Lisa Robertson had signed with Harry M Miller and was poised to sell her mid-flight toilet memoir to London’s Mail on Sunday for $100,000.
In Sydney, Mr Miller was playing things close to the chest when Crikey contacted him this morning:
Lisa Robertson contacted us for some advice. We spoke to her and gave her some guidance and let her know to speak to us when she was ready to proceed. We’ve left a few messages for her over the past few days.
We are now simply waiting for her to decide what she wants to do and presumably come back and contact us.
All of which seemed too little too late when today’s edition of the Daily Mail hit the streets, giving fairly frank chapter and verse of the mid-air collision, detail provided thanks to ”friends” of the former drug-cop, scuba diving, martial artist stewardess.
It was time for the full confession. How I led Ralph Fiennes astray at 35,000ft. The paper promises detail, and it delivers:
They apparently shared more than a 15-minute fling at 35,000ft.
Miss Robertson claims they went on to share a passionate night in a Mumbai hotel — at the star’s invitation.
The Australian stewardess has told friends she recognised Fiennes, 44, as he soon as he settled into his business class seat, 2K, for the nine-hour flight from Darwin.
‘I’ve always fancied him and to see him on my flight was a real thrill,’ she told them.
Later she allowed him to break aircraft rules by sitting beside her on the crew jump seat, which is used during their break.
After chatting together, there was, she has admitted, a lot of ‘body language’ between them and even the odd kiss or two.
She gave him her phone number. Finally she decided to take matters into her own hands.
‘I just stood up, reached down for his hand and told him to follow me,’ she told friends.
‘We went into the toilet and locked the door and off came much of our clothes.’
She said they then had passionate and apparently unprotected sex.
Which doesn’t leave much for Harry M to sell. Other than the film rights of course.