The signal for the captain’s final announcements followed the click of seatbelts and her concentration was broken again. Until this most recent interruption, Amie had found her words finally beginning to freely flow. After a solid three weeks of writing worthless garbage it was like a breath of fresh air to write so easily again. It was laughable really. Of all times, of all places, her writer’s block had to end in the middle of a very early mid-life crisis.
“Thank you for flying British Airways. Please keep your seatbelts locked until the sign goes off. Place all rubbish in the receptacle as your flight attendant passes your isle…”
Amie silently grumbled as she packed away her laptop, ignoring the amused smirks from the stodgy business suit beside her. The balding Brit had attempted more than one conversation during their purgatory of a ten-hour flight. She popped peanuts instead, wishing it were a hefty dose of her prescription sleep meds.
“Hope it’s not too damp out,” the middle-aged Brit grumbled, peering past her through the half closed window she had propped against.
With a roll of her eyes at his obvious request she slid the plastic screen up to uncover their view outside. Following his gaze, she gaped at the source of their turbulence.
Umbrella…she hadn’t packed an umbrella.
“Hope you enjoy London.” He offered one last salutation in a faintly biting tone, before buckling for the bumpy landing.
Brits were all the same, their dedication to dental hygiene aside. Her father had been a master of words, saying one thing while meaning the opposite. Something as trivial as a hello could convey a dozen meanings. So while John Thornton in seat AC4 had a smile plastered on his face, he really meant, “Have a nice life, you bint.”
It wasn’t her fault he wasn’t pretty enough to join at the pub later.
Amie shuddered at the rain pounding against the thick Plexiglas. Hopefully the train station was close by. She hadn’t had time to plan much in her rush to meet the deadline on Uncle Henry’s plane ticket. Truth was, she would have rather shaved off the thick mane now frizzed about her head than spend five pounds she didn’t have on a new raincoat.