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She stepped backwards, wedging it under her arm. “It is now. I found it, and I am not giving it back. Or the boots.”
I glanced down at her feet to see a familiar pair of Gucci boots. I sighed. She must have been desperate to get away. I knew how much she loved those boots. “I need that bag and its contents, mademoiselle, or I shall report you for theft.”
“You can’t report me,” she retorted. “I didn’t steal anything, and you can’t prove it. They were just dumped inside the photo booth, they weren’t wanted, and there was nothing in the bag.”
“Nothing?”
She shook her head, eyeing me warily.
I sighed. “Fine. Tell me, did you see a young lady with dark hair leaving the booth?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t see anything, and I didn’t steal anything.”
“Fine, I’m sorry. I apologise for delaying you, mademoiselle.” She grunted and took off, making her way rather swiftly through the crowd.
Davenport was right. She’d orchestrated this. There was probably some kind of outfit change, maybe a hat to help her fit in with the crowd. She hadn’t been taken, at least I knew that for sure, but she was going to wish she had been when I got my hands on her. I headed towards the next gate where a flight was leaving soon for Lima, Peru, running through the bollocking I would give her in my head. Stupid, risky, dangerous, selfish girl—woman. I could grab her by the throat, pin her against the wall, and yell straight in her face about the sheer idiocy of her actions, about what danger she was putting herself in, about how worried I—her parents would be.
I was huffing with rage by the time I reached the gate, my blood boiling in anger. A few more years, that was all I needed. She needed to be a few years older this time. I would tell her she just had to wait a few more years, to behave and think about her safety... fuck. I turned and punched the nearest wall, my fury and fear brimming over. Without my full strength, all I got for my efforts were cut and bruised knuckles and some worried looks from nearby travellers. The pain gave me something else to focus on other than what I’d tell her, and a wry smile spread over my face as I realised she would never listen to me anyway. She never had. Even when she knew who I really was, she always did her own thing and chose her own way...
I froze as that last thought passed through my mind. Whatever she looked like now, she was still her, and she always chose her own way. Wincing slightly at the pain on my knuckles, I shoved my hand into my pocket and pulled out my phone. I speed dialled Davenport.
“Get to gate eleven. That’s where she’ll be.”
“You’ve found her?”
“No, I just know where she’s going.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. Where? And how do you know?” Davenport was breathing hard on the other end, and I figured he’d been running hard between the gates. I was getting up to a fair speed myself as my eyes ran over the departure board.
“Cairo. She’s going to Cairo.”
“Oh shit. Already? But it’s too early...” His voice wavered, and I heard the fear surge through it.
“We need to head her off. I’m not far away, but she might have already boarded. It’s due to leave at any moment.”
As if to mock me, the Tannoy came on and a tinny voice echoed through the airport. “This is the final call for passengers embarking on Flight 7460 to Cairo from gate eleven, the final call. I repeat, this is the final call for passengers embarking on Flight 7460 to Cairo from gate eleven...”
Davenport became quiet as the words echoed through the phone from his location. “Shit, West...”
“I’ll meet you there. We’ll stop her.”
I hung up and stashed my phone away then broke into a full-on run towards gate eleven. It took me three minutes to get there through the busy hallways, and I skidded to a stop, searching the seats around the gate for her face. It wasn’t there. Cursing, I headed straight for the gate and took the air steward by the arm, twisting him around from the passenger he was talking to.
“7460 to Cairo, I need to be on it.” My French was perfect, if a little old-fashioned. I had the strongest feeling I might come across like some French Revolution reenactor.
“Excuse me, sir.” I let him drag his arm away from me now that I had his attention.
He didn’t look happy, but I really didn’t give a shit. “The flight to Cairo, is this where I board?”
“Do you have your boarding pass and your passport, sir?”
“I don’t want to fly to Cairo, I just have to get on the plane now, just for a few minutes.”
“I am sorry, sir, I cannot permit that. You will need a boarding pass and a passport to get on the flight.” He tried to turn away, and I grabbed him again, this time not letting go.
“My... wife is on that flight, and I really need to talk to her now before she leaves. So either you escort me on, or I’ll walk on by myself.”
“I am afraid, sir, that the flight has already closed its doors and will be taking off momentarily. I would suggest anything you need to say to your wife, you say over the phone, but I am afraid she will not be allowed to disembark, even if she wanted to.” The tone of his voice strongly implied that he doubted any wife of mine would want to get off the plane to see me, and I resisted the urge to punch his pompous face. He looked away, and I followed his glance to the aeroplane slowly taxiing to the runway. I closed my eyes, feeling the sick fear begin to rise within me once again.
