Page 46 of For One Moment With You
The traffic eventually started crawling, the final mile seeming to take longer than the rest of the entire journey. But no matter. We reached the terminal building. Getting out, relief filled me that I was there. And so, by the looks of it, were thousands of other people, all milling around on their phones or looking at their watches.
While the taxi driver lifted out my suitcase, my relief vanished and a sinking feeling took me over as I realised, it looked like none of us were going anywhere.
‘Good luck,’ the taxi driver said. Frowning, he glanced around, scratching his head. ‘Though I must say I’ve never seen it quite like this before.’
Which didn’t exactly make me feel any better as I dragged my case through the crowd and found a check-in desk, where I joined the queue of outraged people behaving as though the airline itself was responsible for the weather. I was still trying to stay hopeful – that the weather would change; that when it came to fog, British Airways planes had super powers. Then I reached the front and it was my turn.
The check-in person looked apologetic. ‘I’m afraid your flight’s been cancelled.’
My heart felt like a plummeting rock. ‘It can’t be. Don’t you have auto-land, or something? It’s only a bit of fog.’
He frowned. ‘The problem is the aircraft operating your flight has been diverted to Paris. The whole of the UK is fogged out. The only flights getting in are those that can auto-land, as you said.’ He gave me a look. ‘I’m very sorry but yours isn’t one of them.’
So much for super powers. I stared at him stupidly. ‘So what do I do now?’
He shrugged. ‘Go home and come back tomorrow. There’s another flight at the same time, and another to San Francisco a little later. Hopefully, the weather will have cleared by then. We’ll try to get you on one of them.’
Suddenly I felt helpless. ‘What if you don’t? Get me on it, I mean?’
‘You can apply for a refund. I’m sorry, madam, there isn’t anything else I can do right now…’
I couldn’t believe this was happening. Not now – to me. Not given everything else that was going on in my life. ‘You don’t understand,’ I said quietly. ‘My husband has left me, I don’t have my job… This was supposed to be an adventure. The biggest adventure of my life.’ Words were bursting out of me. ‘And your stupid, horrible airline, not to mention the stupid, selfish fog, have completely ruined everything…’ I broke off, knowing I was being unreasonable; my voice wavering.
‘I really am very sorry, madam,’ he said in a way that made it clear he wasn’t remotely interested in my life. Then he passed me a leaflet. ‘This tells you everything you need to know about claiming a refund. Have a really nice day.’
Not sure if he was being sarcastic, I crumpled up the leaflet and shoved it into one of my pockets. I briefly thought about going home, then of the empty fridge, before remembering the estate agent was due there this afternoon. Then I thought of my boys, waiting to hear where their mother had made it to and I felt a new surge of resolve. I wasn’t going to let them down. I wasn’t going to let me down, either. If planes were out of the question, I was getting a train!
Where to?The question stopped me in my tracks. There was rather a large body of water between here and San Jose. But it didn’t matter. I could go anywhere, as long as it was away from this grim, fogbound little country; from Gareth and his floozy. After all, I wanted an adventure. No way was some minor trifle like the weather going to stop me.
Anyone who knows me would say, I am not known for being impulsive. This new, spontaneous Tilly was someone I was unfamiliar with. But I had to say I was getting to like her.
For the second time, I was cursing myself for not sticking to my guns and travelling light as I made my way through the airport to the Underground. While the train sped towards London, I googled routes to Paris and booked a seat on the Eurostar from St Pancras station, then sat back and tried to decide what next.
With San Jose out of the picture, at least for now, I contemplated heading for the Côte d’Azur, Barcelona, Italy, even Greece, a surreal feeling taking me over knowing I could pick any one of them and in a matter of hours, a day or two tops, actually be there.
The closer to London I got, the more crowded the train became. But then the chances were I wasn’t the only one who’d been forced to change their plans. After arriving at St Pancras and checking in for the Eurostar, I found my seat and it wasn’t long before the train set off.
As the Eurostar headed south towards the coast, for the first part of the journey the landscape was blanketed in fog, but just a short way into France on the other side of the English Channel, I took it as a sign that I was on the right track when it rapidly cleared. Gazing out of the window, I watched the fields and little French towns flash past, aware of the miles falling behind me, the two hours it took passing rapidly before the train slowed down as we arrived in Paris.
Another time, I would have thought about spending a day or two here, but today, after British Airways almost managing to scupper my escape plan, it was about putting maximum distance between me and Gareth. Finding a taxi, I headed for Gare de Lyon, where I bought another ticket – another impulse purchase – this time to Barcelona. Then with remarkable ease, I found the platform and waited for the train.
But as I stood there, I realised it wasn’t such an impulse purchase and that the seed of a memory had dislodged itself from a far-flung corner of my brain. Because Adam had talked about Barcelona – he’d been there several times in his capacity as a travel writer.
Suddenly I knew it was where I was meant to go. Maybe the Universe was weaving its unpredictable magic around us again; maybe Adam was, at this moment, headed there, too.
The next part of my journey was effortless. Far from the crammed carriages I’d been expecting, they were half empty and I found my allocated seat next to a window. As the train got going, I WhatsApped the boys.
Tilly
Hey guys, I thought I’d update you. My flight was cancelled – heavy fog. So I’m on a train to Barcelona. Enjoying it! Should be there early evening. Hope you’ve both had a good day. Love you loads and loads xxxx
As the steward passed with his trolley, I bought an overpriced baguette and a quarter-bottle of wine. Sitting back, I drank a toast, to this new chapter, to adventures, thinking,Screw you, British Airways,as my phone buzzed.
It was Alex.
Alex
Keep us posted Mum! Enjoy! xx
