“Delayed? You’ve got to be kidding me!” Olivia shouted angrily at nothing in particular as she stood, studying the departures screen. All flights to Britain had been delayed yet again.
At another set of nearby screens she could see Alfie staring just as angrily at them, shaking his head. She caught his eye but he stayed exactly where he was. Good, Olivia thought savagely, finally got the message at last.
A bleak mood settled over her as she stormed across to her check-in desk to find out exactly what was going on and how much longer she’d have to wait.
“I’m sorry we have to leave you hanging a little bit longer, we’re just waiting for the last of this stormy weather to clear. We’re hoping to get out of here by noon.” Said the girl behind the desk.
“Noon?” Olivia shrieked, “Its seven o’clock now and I’ve been waiting since yesterday morning to get out of here.”
“It’s out of my hands, Miss Daniels. Please, keep your voice down or I’ll have to call security.”
Olivia apologised for her outburst and went on, “What’s the likeliness of getting out of here by lunch?”
“The storm is moving across the Alantic, as long as it stays away from London, we should be able to land safely.”
“So you’re just waiting for the storm to change direction?” Olivia asked.
“More or less.”
“Great. Thanks.”
Muttering angrily to herself she pulled her case behind her, back over to the bar where she, Emma and Rose had enjoyed themselves not twenty four hours ago. As if they knew she was thinking of them, Rose’s number flashed across her phone’s screen.
“Morning! Would’ve called you earlier but I figured you might be flying by now.”
“Don’t I wish.”
“You’re still in the airport?” came Emma’s voice over speakerphone.
“Yes. I checked into the Hilton for the night. We’re supposed to be flying within the hour but it’s been delayed again.”
“Oh, Olivia, honey. Are you okay?”
“Not really, no. I just want to get home, Rose.”
“I know you do. Have they said when you might be able to fly?”
“They’re saying noon but they don’t know for sure.”
“Fuck sake!” Emma hissed.
“Calm down, Em.” Rose chastised their young friend. “Is there any other way? Could you fly home from Canada?”
“I don’t think it’ll make much difference. The storm isn’t in New York any more, it’s travelling over the Atlantic en-route to Britain. Unless it moves away or past it, it won’t be safe to fly to or land in London.”
“What are you going to do until then?”
“Well, I’m at the bar, I think I might get drunk.”
Emma laughed.
“Are you sure that’s wise?” asked Rose.
“Probably not, but I’m alone and bored and I want to go home. I just want to be curled up on the couch next to Joseph watching god awful television. I’d give anything to be with him right now.” She said as Alfie brushed past her on the way to the bar.
“Have you called him yet?” asked Emma.
“No, I’d only just left the check-in desk when you guys called.”
