Страница 5

Fuck. I just… I just can't… I…

I look at the American man, and he's grasping his seat as tightly as I am.

I feel sick. I think I might be sick. Oh God.

OK. It's… it's kind of… back to normal.

'Ladies and gentlemen,' comes a voice over the intercom, and everyone's heads jerk up. 'This

is your captain speaking.'

My heart's juddering in my chest. I can't listen. I can't think.

'We're currently hitting some clear-air turbulence, and things may be unsteady for a while. I

have switched on the seatbelt signs and would ask that you all return to your seats as quickly

as-'

There's another huge lurch, and his voice is drowned by screams and cries all round the plane.

It's like a bad dream. A bad rollercoaster dream.

The cabin crew are all strapping themselves into their seats. One of the hostesses is mopping

blood on her face. A minute ago they were happily doling out honey-roast peanuts.

This is what happens to other people in other planes. People on safety videos. Not me.

'Please keep calm,' the captain is saying. 'As soon as we have more information…'

Keep calm? I can't breathe, let alone keep calm. What are we going to do? Are we all

supposed to just sit here while the plane bucks like an out-of-control horse?

I can hear someone behind me reciting 'Hail Mary, full of grace…' and a fresh, choking panic

sweeps through me. People are praying. This is real.

We're going to die.

We're going to die.

'I'm sorry?' The American man in the next seat looks at me, his face tense and white.

Did I just say that aloud?

'We're going to die.' I stare into his face. This could be the last person I ever see alive. I take

in the lines etched around his dark eyes; his strong jaw, shaded with stubble.

The plane suddenly drops down again, and I give an involuntary shriek.

'I don't think we're going to die,' he says. But he's gripping his seat-arms, too. 'They said it

was just turbulence-'

'Of course they did!' I can hear the hysteria in my voice. 'They wouldn't exactly say, "OK

folks, that's it, you're all goners"!' The plane gives another terrifying swoop and I find myself

clutching the man's hand in panic. 'We're not going to make it. I know we're not. This is it. I'm

twenty-five years old, for God's sake. I'm not ready. I haven't achieved anything. I've never

had children, I've never saved a life…' My eyes fall randomly on the '30 Things To Do

Before You're 30' article. 'I haven't ever climbed a mountain, I haven't got a tattoo, I don't

even know if I've got a G spot…'

'I'm sorry?' says the man, sounding taken aback, but I barely hear him.

'My career's a complete joke. I'm not a top businesswoman at all.' I gesture half-tearfully to

my suit. 'I haven't got a team! I'm just a crappy assistant and I just had my first ever big

meeting and it was a complete disaster. Half the time I haven't got a clue what people are

talking about, I don't know what logistical means, I'm never going to get promoted, and I owe

my dad four thousand quid, and I've never really been in love…'

I draw myself up short with a jolt. 'I'm sorry,' I say, and exhale sharply. 'You don't want to

hear all this.'

'That's quite all right,' says the man.

God. I'm completely losing it.

And anyway, what I just said wasn't true. Because I am in love with Co

altitude or something, confusing my mind.

Flustered, I push the hair off my face and try to get a hold of myself. OK, let's try counting

again. Three hundred and fifty… six. Three hundred and-

Oh God. Oh God. No. Please. The plane's lurching again. We're plummeting.

'I've never done anything to make my parents proud of me.' The words come spilling out of

my mouth before I can stop them. 'Never.'

'I'm sure that's not true,' says the man nicely.