Awakening

by David Munro

  Opening the door with a passkey, I went quietly upstairs to my room. Glancing at the bedside clock, it read 12.55, and given that my flight leaves in less than nine hours, glad I didn’t overindulge.

  I arrived fresh at the breakfast table earlier than my normal time. After sitting down, Julie came into the dining room. “Good morning, how are you feeling?”

  “I didn’t have too late a night, and left Minosas not long after midnight.”

  “Any particular reason?” said Julie with a wry smile.

  “The evening came to an abrupt halt.”

  “It’s all over Twitter, and since one o’clock, tweets have been going to and fro from people who attended the event.”

  I sat back on my chair. “Technology rules.”

  “Did you tweet anyone?”

  I shook my head.

  “News before it’s printed or heard on radio.”

  “The tabloids may eventually disappear!”

  Julie laughed. “What would you like for breakfast?”

  “Scrambled egg on toast, please.”

  “And the usual white coffee?”

  I nodded. “Is April’s daughter arriving today?”

  “Last night she contacted me to say it would be tomorrow.”

  Pity, I would have met her.

  As Julie departed, I thought about Victoria, and that her age will be comparable to a daughter. Julie returned. “Since you don’t use twitter, here is a traditional medium.” She laid a newspaper on the table and left.

  I picked up the Daily Mail, and browsed through it. Politics, celebrity gossip, sport and international affairs received coverage, but no earth-shattering articles. Julie appeared with a wooden tray. “Any interesting news?”

  I put down the newspaper. “Maybe I should go onto twitter!”

  She laughed. “It would reveal an interesting love triangle concerning a certain Diana Bray.”

  “When I left Minosas, she was being questioned by two police officers.”

  “Oh?” Julie laid my plate of scrambled eggs, a small white pot and a jug of milk onto the table.

  “What did Twitter have to say?”

  “When her affair with a married politician ended, she dated a work colleague, however, it appears she was seeing both men.”

  I shook my head, whilst pouring coffee into a cup.

  “If you ask me, she is trouble, with a capital T!”

  I lifted my cup, then sipped some coffee.

  “Is the coffee warm enough?”

  I nodded. “Yes, thanks.”

  “I’m going to check Twitter, there may be a Diana Bray update.”

  I smiled, then set my cup on the saucer.

  “Be back in a short while.”

  I devoured my delicious scrambled eggs, complete with toasted bread, prepared and then served. When I return home, normal service will have to resume, but given my laborious primitive experiences of 1896 and 1912, my grievances will be minimal.

  Since a Diana update did not transpire, I left the dining room, and went upstairs to pack. A short while later, I came downstairs, and Julie emerged from the kitchen.

  “I’ve enjoyed my stay.”

  She smiled. “What time is your flight?”

  I looked at my watch. “In just under three hours. I’ll call into the hospital and say goodbye to April.”

  “Have a safe journey home.”

  At least it will be by a conventional method rather than time travel.

  Julie walked me to the door, and after opening it, a gust of wind blew the door fully open.

  “My goodness!” she cried.

  I stepped out of the doorway, and looked up to the dull grey sky. “It could be a

  rocky flight home.”

  She nodded.

  I frowned.

  “Bye.”

  Against a strong wind, and carrying my case, I walked to the hospital. Out of breath, I entered the nearby florist shop, and a sales assistant behind the counter looked my way. “If it’s fresh flowers you want, sir, the delivery van hasn’t arrived.”

  “That’s a pity.”

  “I was told by the delivery firm that the van broke down.” The woman shook her head.

  “Thanks, anyway.”

  “Have a good day.”

  I entered the hospital, and whilst walking to April’s ward, a senior nurse called to me. “Excuse me, sir.”

  I stopped, and looked round.

  “Have you come to visit April?”

  “Yes, I have.”

  “She had an uneasy night, and is now fast asleep.”

  “I’m leaving Jersey at lunchtime, therefore, wanted to see her.”

  “Due to a strong sedative, April will be asleep for several hours.”

  I sighed.

  “I will let her know that you called in.”

  “Thank you.”

  The white-uniformed sister walked on, and I made for the hospital exit. Once outside, I spotted a couple getting out of a black taxi, and approached the driver’s window. “Are you for hire?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I got into the vehicle, shut the rear door, and sat on the black leather seat. I laid my suitcase on the floor, then unbuttoned my jacket.

  “The airport, sir?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you in a rush to catch a flight, sir?”

  I looked at my watch. “No, I’m in good time.”

  The grey-haired driver looked in his mirror at me, and gave a faint grin. “Good, I won’t have to break the speed limit.”

  I laughed. “Do you have to at times?”

  He nodded. “Frequently, sir.”

  The taxi moved off, exited Jersey’s hospital grounds, and headed for the airport at an appropriate speed.

  “Enjoy your stay, sir?”

  “Yes, I came to visit a relative.”

  “Did you take in any of the sights?” The driver looked in the mirror. “The German hospital built by them when they occupied us is a popular attraction.”

  I shook my head. “Didn’t get round to visiting it.”

  “Confrontations were non-existent.” He laughed. “The natives bided their time till the Germans left.”

  “Whilst here, I did witness a confrontation – last night at Minosas!”

  The driver nodded. “I heard about it.”

  “On Twitter?”

  He shook his head. “Passengers in my taxi who had been there.”

  “Gossip is the quickest form of communication.”

  “There has been an abundance of it surrounding a particular blonde on this island.”

  No doubt, a certain blonde.

  “Have you heard of Diana Bray?”

  “I overheard a conversation about her.”

  “And that’s not the first time she’s been involved in a scandal.” The driver shook his head.

  I looked out of the window. She certainly has acquired a reputation. This, being a small island, won’t help. Ah, here we are.

  “It could be a bumpy flight home, sir.”

  I nodded. “Windy November, indeed.”

  The driver found a vacant parking space outside the airport terminal, and drove into it. He applied the handbrake, and turned round. “£12.50, sir.”

  “There’s £13, keep the change.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  I picked up my suitcase, opened the rear door, and it flew wide open. After firmly closing it, the driver drove off, and several blustery minutes later, I entered the calm building. Phew! A group of people stood at the check-in desk, however, I soon handed over my return ticket.

  “Are you aware that there is a stop at East Midlands, sir?” said the airline representative.

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  The representative asked a series of standard baggage questions and then I placed my suitcase on a metal compartment. She stamped my ticket, handed it to me and smiled. Leaving the queue, I glanced at my watch, and had over an hour to kill. I observed a coffee shop, and headed for it.
Inside, empty tables were in short supply, then, one became available. I went to the counter, ordered a white coffee and shortbread biscuit. After paying, I sat down. These chairs aren’t comfortable. A woman sitting at the next table stood up, and departed, leaving a newspaper. I reached over, and looked at the date – yesterday’s Jersey Evening Post. No doubt tonight’s edition will highlight the incident on Halloween at a prestigious venue in St Helier. Whilst browsing through the newspaper, I became aware of customers with a hand-held device. Two tables from me, a young woman moved her nimble finger to and fro on the screen – the content must be interesting. Before long, only one other person and myself were reading a newspaper! A waitress approached the next table, lifted cups and saucers onto her tray, and looked over. “The airport shop doesn’t sell many newspapers nowadays.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  “People prefer to read a book from their Kindle or iPad.”

  After she left, I continued to read the newspaper, conscious of my traditional method of passing time. In the 14 years I have been away, it’s still difficult to grasp how technology has advanced. I put down the newspaper, then added a sachet of brown sugar to my coffee. Stirring the cup with a cheap plastic spoon, I spotted Diana Bray enter. To cover my face, I picked up the newspaper, and pretended to read it. I slowly lowered it, and saw Diana sit at a table occupied by a well-dressed middle-aged gent. I sipped my coffee, thinking Kindles and iPads can’t make you discreet in the manner a newspaper can.

  As the flight left Jersey, I noticed a lot of passengers had started reading from their personal devices, however, I’ll settle for the standard airline magazine. I removed one from the seat pocket in front, and started to read, and soon after, a steward went up and down the aisle with refreshments. Given the turbulence, having a drink could result in a stained jacket and trousers, therefore, I’ll pass.

  After an hour and a bit, the flight arrived at East Midlands Airport, and I left the aircraft for a connection to Glasgow. I collected my suitcase, then walked to the lounge alongside a couple. Before reaching there, two Customs Officers in standard black suits, white shirts and dark ties, stopped us.

  “We would like to check your belongings,” said one officer.

  They took us to a nearby table, where a further two officers stood with stern expressions. The couple laid their suitcases on the table, and I waited my turn. After the man and woman opened their cases, an officer scrutinised them. During this process, the couple looked at each other, then the officer signalled to a colleague, and he came over. After examining a particular item, he looked at the woman. “Please come this way.”

  Two officers led her into a room, and closed the door. The woman’s companion glanced at me, then at the other officers.

  “Thank you, sir,” said the officer who had examined his suitcase, “you can close it.”

  “What about my wife?”

  “She is being questioned, we will advise you of the outcome.”

  The man closed his suitcase, lifted it off the table and then stood aside. I put mine on the table, opened it, and the officer examined its contents, then smiled.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  I closed my suitcase, lifted it off the table, and whilst walking away, noticed the man being taken away.

  Passengers from the Jersey flight congregated in the lounge to await information on their connection, including a woman sitting next to me, who leaned forward. “It’s not Diana’s weekend,” she whispered.

  I looked at her. “Were you at Minosas?”

  She nodded. “The woman taken by Customs Officers is her sister.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “A weekend Diana will want to forget.”

  The woman smiled. “And a few others too.”

  “Do you know Diana?”

  “I thought I did until she stole my husband.”

  I looked at the forty-something dark-haired woman. “Was your husband a politician?”

  The woman shook her head. “That was another affair she had.”

  My goodness.

  “I saw her at the airport and kept my distance.”

  Then, a female voice came over the tannoy to announce my flight departure, and I said goodbye to the woman.

  After boarding, I sat at a window seat, and looked out. With the wind still prevalent, let’s hope a traumatic flight doesn’t ensue. Glancing at my watch told me there were ten minutes until take-off, and I would be in Glasgow around one o’clock. Several minutes later, a well-spoken composed male voice came over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is the pilot. There has been a terrorist alert at Glasgow Airport, and as no flights are being allowed to land, we have been diverted to Edinburgh Airport. Also, our departure has been delayed and, apologies for any inconvenience.”

  Groans came from several aisles, and the three stewardesses wore brave smiles. I sat back and considered a new travel plan to get home. I’ll journey from Edinburgh to Glasgow by train, then catch a coach to Dochar, but due to a winter timetable, it leaves Buchanan Street Bus Station around mid-day. If I am to get that coach, there will be no margin for any more delays. Damn terrorists!

  Forty minutes later, the now Edinburgh-bound service departed, and I looked at my watch. No way will I make Glasgow in time for a coach to Dochar, therefore, an overnight stay in the Capital beckons.

  With my seatbelt on, the aircraft touched down without a hitch at Edinburgh International Airport. For an overnight stay, a stewardess advised I try the nearby Holiday Express Inn. When I approached reception, a tall dark-suited gentleman with combed-back hair came forward. “Can I help you, sir?”

  I lay my suitcase on the polished floor. “Do you have a room for tonight?”

  “Single or double, sir?”

  “Single with en-suite, please.”

  The member of staff checked his computer, looked at me, and analysed the screen. “One is available, sir. £57, including breakfast.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  “Do you wish to pay now?”

  “When I leave.”

  “Fine, sir.”

  I received a key, lifted my suitcase, and went in search of the room. As the hotel had a selection of formal and informal dining amenities, and my limited funds, an evening meal in the ‘pub lounge’ will suffice. I found my room on the first floor, entered and then closed the door. After unpacking some essentials, I lay on the soft comfortable bed and closed my eyes.

  I woke up, looked at my watch, and discovered several hours had passed. Since breakfast, I had not eaten, and my stomach now called out. I made myself respectable, and went downstairs to the lounge bar for an informal bite to eat. Due to only a handful of customers, I had a choice of tables. I picked up a menu and as I read it, a woman approached with a writing pad and pen. “Ready to order, sir?”

  “Chilli and rice, please.”

  She wrote on the white pad. “And to drink?”

  “A lager, please.”

  “Stella or Tennents?”

  “The latter.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  After she departed, I surveyed the traditional-style lounge with dark wooden furniture and a polished wooden floor.

  Following my bar meal, I sat back and sipped my glass of lager. The quick efficient service and quality of food impressed me, plus, used plates and cutlery had been quickly taken away. Laying my half-empty glass on the table, I noticed a tall slim young woman in a black coat enter the bar. When she looked around, then at me, I recognised her as one of the passengers who along with me got stranded. She spoke to the bar person, received a drink and then came across to where I sat. “Can I join you?”

  “Be my guest.”

  The young woman sat down, laid her drink on the table, and unbuttoned her coat to reveal a low-cut black dress. “It’s a small world!” She lifted her glass, took a sip, then frowned. “Not enough gin, too much tonic.”

  I grinned. “How is the escort business?”

  “Tonight, I’m meeting someone in th
is lounge.” She laid her drink on the table, and glanced at a stylish gold watch.

  “Is he late?”

  “No, ten minutes, yet.”

  “Are you kept busy?”

  She plucked a blonde hair from her coat. “Yes.”

  “Who is your market?” Her answer could be interesting.

  “Businessmen and politicians.” She lifted her glass. “Have you ever been out with an escort?”

  “No, I lead a sheltered life.”

  She laughed lifter her glass, and took a sip. “Men tell me intimate details.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  She put her glass down. “A politician once told me he was being blackmailed by a former partner.”

  “A woman?”

  “She threatened to ruin his career and family life.”

  “Murky business.”

  “Apparently, this person tends to target politicians.”

  “In Scotland?”

  “Jersey.”

  Surely not.

  “I believe this woman is connected to the hospitality sector.”

  “This person does not sound hospitable.”

  The young woman glanced at the entrance. “Here’s my date.” She stood, and smiled. “Bye.”

  “Good luck.” Where have I seen him before?

  As the voluptuous individual met her evening date, I picked up my drink, and finished it. A male bar person came across, and lifted both glasses.

  “Another drink, sir?”

  I shook my head. “Do I pay for my meal and drink now, or at reception when I leave?”

  “Either, sir.” He departed.

  I went to the bar, and the person who had earlier served me, handed over a receipt. Looking at it, I noticed an additional drink. “I only had a lager.”

  “The young woman who joined you asked me to put her drink on your bill.”

  I grinned.

  “Is that okay, sir?”

  “Yes.”

  After breakfast, I went to my room and made ready for departure. At the reception desk, another articulate male member of staff was on duty. When I handed over my room key, he smiled. “Did you enjoy your stay, sir?” He took the key.

  “Yes, thanks.” I laid my suitcase on the floor.

  He handed me a bill, which I checked, and paid. Lifting my suitcase and bidding him farewell, I headed to the exit swing door. Upon reaching it, a young woman came through it.