INGRID DOULTON | Lady Writer | Contact
The upstairs meeting room at Remienko Memorial Airpark’s Hanger 3 was buzzing last night as the team from WestBet Aviation gathered for their annual Christmas party. Among the crowd of engineers, pilots, flight coordinators, and admin staff, one figure managed to steal the spotlight. Accounts payable veteran and office hornbag, Kerry-Anne Nolan.
Arriving in her signature leopard-print blouse and armed with a fresh set of acrylic nails, Kerry-Anne wasted no time making her presence felt at the drinks table, where 21-year-old freshly minted commercial pilot Lachlan Mills had been saddled with bar duty.
“Oooh, sparkling shiraz?” Kerry-Anne asked with a knowing grin, holding her empty glass forward.
“Yes please, Lockie—you big spunk.”
Witnesses say Lachlan froze for half a second before attempting an unconvincing chuckle as he filled her glass to the absolute brim, while Kerry-Anne maintained steady eye contact.
“It’s a real drink, you know,” she told him, swirling the fizzing red wine like she was at a Mudgee cellar door.
“You should pour yourself one Lachie, and come and find me for a photo later”
For Lachlan, who’d joined the company only three months prior, the encounter was reportedly his first taste of Kerry-Anne’s particular brand of festive cheer. After fumbling to explain that he just needed to check on the ice bucket, he disappeared downstairs for a breather.
“She’s harmless, really,” explained colleague Tegan Walker, watching from the table of prawn cocktails. “She does this every year. One sparkling shiraz and she’s telling the grads they’ve got nice shoulders and an arse you could set your watch do.”
By 9:00pm, Kerry-Anne had moved on to leading an enthusiastic conga line that snaked its way around the function room, still clutching her glass of sparkling shiraz. Lachlan, meanwhile, was seen leaning against a post on the hanger’s back verandah, wondering if she’d actually root him or it’s all just a big show.
More to come.
