Meet Me In Manhattan. Claudia Carroll

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ phone. I flung it there before I collapsed into bed last night; just switched it off and tossed it aside, figuring that if Andy thought all it would take was one of his late-night phone calls to set things to rights between us, then he could go and take a running jump with himself. But now I pick it up, twiddle around with it for a bit and am just about to shove it into a drawer and ignore it completely, when a sharp curiosity gets the better of me.

      So I switch the phone back on.

      Dear Jesus, seven missed calls. Every single one of them from him.

      This better be good, this better be good, this better be good, I think, frantically clicking on voicemail.

      ‘Received at one-oh-three a.m.… ’ says that annoying automated women’s voice in a dull monotone.

      ‘Holly? Holly, are you there? It’s me, it’s Andy. I gotta explain what just happened. Don’t get a fright, but we just had a mid-air …’

      I swear, just the very sound of his voice instantly raises my pulse rate. But the message is abruptly cut short just as I’m thinking a mid-air? A mid-air what exactly? But nothing more. So I stab impatiently at the phone’s voicemail button again.

      ‘Received at one-oh-four a.m.,’ drones the same automation’s voice down the phone again.

      ‘Holly,’ he goes on, sounding tensed and panicked now. ‘I hope you can hear me? I’m calling you from Newfoundland … I’m right here at St John’s Airport; don’t worry though, I’m OK and everything is absolutely fine … we just touched down here after an emergency landing.… ’

       An emergency landing?

      Shit! His phone cuts out again, so fingers trembling, I click straight onto the next voicemail.

      ‘Received at one-oh-five a.m.… ’ says the automatic voice and I find myself snarling, ‘oh will you shut up!’ back down the phone at her.

      ‘… Holly, are you even getting these messages? Look, I know it’s past one in the morning your time, but I had to get in touch as soon as we touched down to explain what happened. Because I can’t begin to apologize for leaving you high and dry like that. That’s just not who I am. I hope you know only something like a real, genuine emergency would keep me from being there to meet you last night …’

      Bloody machine cuts him off again. So walloping sweaty fingers off the keys, I hit on the next voice message, hissing aloud, ‘What emergency? What the feck happened?’

      ‘Holly, me again,’ he says, over a whole load of background noise. Sirens? Ambulances?

      ‘I sure can’t begin to apologize for not getting to meet you tonight,’ he says, raising his voice to be heard over all the background fracas. ‘But here’s the thing. We were just about two hours out of Atlanta when we had a mid-air incident with a passenger who …’

      Bloody well cut off again. A passenger who what? Caused a fight? An air-rage incident because they were pissed out of their head on duty-free? What?

      I’m just about to turn on the telly, in case the story’s made it onto Sky News or BBC 24, but next thing there’s a ping down my phone and I realize there’s an email that’s been waiting for me all this time. And sure enough, it’s him again.

       From: Guy_in_the_Sky

      Holly. It’s me. I’ve been calling and calling you, but your phone just keeps clicking straight onto voicemail.

      I totally get it if you never want to see or hear from me again after my letting you down so badly last night. But I also hope you know there’s just no way in hell I’d ever do a thing like that without real good cause. And boy, did I have good cause last night.

      Trouble started when we were just under two hours out of Atlanta, headed northeast over the Atlantic. Next thing, my senior flight steward came into the cockpit to say a passenger had suddenly been taken ill. Course I immediately asked if there was a doctor on board and not one, but two, came forward to examine this passenger.

      So my co-pilot took over while I discussed what was happening with the medics. Both quickly agreed that the passenger, a middle-aged guy who was travelling alone, had most likely suffered a cardiac arrest and needed to be rushed to hospital ASAP.

      Now we got all sorts of procedures in place for when incidents like this happen, so I got on the radio immediately and requested an emergency landing at the nearest international airport. Which given that we were headed east over the Atlantic, happened to be right here at St John’s, Newfoundland. Anyway, we touched down within thirty minutes of my putting out the emergency call and they had ambulances already waiting right on the tarmac to rush our patient to hospital just as fast as they could.

      It was dramatic; it sure as hell was traumatic and it genuinely killed me not to be able to make our date last night, but I hope this goes some small way towards explaining the downside of a life in the sky.

      I’ll try calling you at a more respectable time and if you don’t want to speak with me, then I’ll totally get it.

      I’m being re-routed back home now. Like I always say, gotta fly.

      Andy.

      I go online and do a quick google of the international news in this morning’s online papers. I scroll down through countless pages and links and, lo and behold, there it is.

      Buried up at the top of page seven in the Chronicle; a tiny breaking news feature about a Delta flight that had to be re-routed back to Newfoundland when a passenger unexpectedly took ill. Not only that, but it’s on both the Sky News app and the BBC app too.

      Which means he was telling the truth then, the whole truth and nothing but.

      So I climb back into bed, mind racing. And deep down, I think, almost a bit relieved. After all, as excuses go, this one’s a doozy.

      Not long after I fall into a fitful, troubled sleep and keep flashing back to when this all first began.

       Chapter Three

       Exactly three weeks ago.

       Welcome to the Two’s Company Dating Website!

       User Name: lady_reporter

       Never easy to describe yourself, but here goes. Tall, slim, blue-eyed brunette. Loves eating out and staying in and mountaineering and sky diving and I know everyone says they’ve got the best job in the world on these sites, but I really, genuinely think I have.

      I’m also a major foodie who adores cooking for friends/ baking/ all of the above. And with apologies in advance if I come over as a boasty boaster, but my friends do reckon my chocolate cherry cupcakes, something of a house specialty round here, are worthy of the Great British Bake Off.

       So, anyone out there? Anyone at all?

      I posted it out there СКАЧАТЬ