Creative Writing – B3

Here is the next story blog excerpt for subscribers, and if you missed a chapter you can read it on the website.

Rosie and Harry have arrived in London and are ready to explore the city and enjoy every tourist spot!

But will they arrive in one piece or is this their final transit trip?

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Chapter Three – Taxi, No Taxi.

“Attention all passengers. We will be arriving in London in approximately
fifteen minutes. Please ensure your seatbelts are fastened as we prepare for descent and your tray is locked into the upright position. We thank you for choosing us for your travels and hope you have enjoyed your flight with our airline today.” says the disembodied voice from somewhere in the plane.

Harry looks over and smiles a big, colossal smile; this is it! We made it to London!

It’s a funny thing, you know, of all the people to be travelling with and
taking this next step into a strange land with, it is with Harry I feel the
most comfortable. He makes me feel like he doesn’t know what will happen either, but we will be okay. I like that feeling.

Harry and I aren’t meant to be a couple, though. It’s strictly travel buddies for us. I hope I meet a special someone on this trip, and it stands without question that he will be tall and handsome.

Harry is…well…. tall and goofy. Kind of like a giraffe on fresh legs. I want to cuddle up with him, but I can’t imagine doing anything else with him. I’m sure he doesn’t look at me ‘that’ way either. It is more of a mates thing. Harry’s goofy smile matches my awkwardness, and we blunder through life together.

He had a girlfriend ages ago. She was a blonde, short religious girl. I
didn’t like her very much. She did not want me around and used to accidentally uninvite me from his parties. He would ring me anyway to ask where I was and insist that he drive over to collect me. We would drive back the long way, chatting and laughing, and we always enjoyed hanging out together.

She didn’t like me, and they broke up after a few months, but I never
figured out why and Harry wouldn’t say.

Now here we are, buckling up and feeling the pits of our tummy hang on tightly as we descend rapidly towards London. I look out the window and see clouds everywhere, floating along, and then we begin to glide through down, and I can see patchwork quilt-type fields with little lines where the fences run.

Lower and lower we drop, I can see tiny moving flashes of colour, and now I can see trails of little cars, trucks and vans moving along like toys in a children’s car set.

The city looks enormous, even from way up here, and I see the River Thames shimmying through the centre and bridges crossing over it at various spots. There is the massive London Eye Ferris wheel; we want to go on that this week!

I look over at Harry excitedly, but his eyes are closed as the travel
sickness kicks in. I reach over and wrap my fingers tightly around his.

We bank to the left, and then I feel us descend faster and faster. There is a loud clunk as our landing gear drops down, and we square up to the runway in the distance below.

The plane roars loudly as we touch down, bouncing up a little and then coming down to a smooth landing. Harry wriggles his fingers underneath mine, opens his eyes and looks around.

We smile at each other. We are in LONDON!

A blur of noise begins to run throughout the plane as the doors are opened. We unfold ourselves from our long-haul seats and collect our belongings from overhead.

I make my way down the narrow aisle, Harry is in front of me, and we head out the plane door and into a white springy concertinaed corridor with a long bend.

This section opens up to a solid walkway and ends abruptly at a set of short, scuffed stairs and a closed frosted glass door.

As we approach, the automatic door opens to a blast of noise, movement and colour as people bustle around in a hurry from gates to reach the customs barriers.

We collect our backpacks from the luggage carousel, and the next stop is the Arrivals Lounge. Fellow passengers excitedly look through the spilling crowd for their loved ones, and we can see expectant faces smile hesitantly, then flit across to the next face as they search desperately for them.

But no one is waiting for us. This is our trip alone into the big unknown.

We enter the main airport area, walking through crowds of families and business travellers. It is so BUSY! Heathrow is a massive airport; we can get lost just turning around, so we stick together and quickly head out into the rain to get a taxi.

In the crowd, a young man approaches us and waves us down as we join the long taxi queue. He is friendly as he approaches and lowers his voice when talking to us gently.

Did you book a Phantom taxi service?” he asks. “I’m Mick. I am here to collect a tourist couple,” he said, “but I can’t remember their surnames, and my chart got wet in the rain.”

Harry tells him that it isn’t us. I add that we are staying in a backpacker’s
place and catching a taxi when one frees up.

Mick tilts his head to the side and seems to think for a moment.
“I have an idea. I have to go back to Mayfair without the two booked passengers, so my car is empty. Would you like a free trip in?” he asks.

Harry looks at me with wariness and concern, which I should have noticed. He shook his head a little as I looked at him imploringly.

“Yes, please!” I said. Harry shakes his head at me but gives in.

“Excellent,” said Mick.

He leads us past the huge taxi waiting line of tired travellers to an impressive vehicle that looks like it could drive itself. The beautiful limo is an 8th generation Ritz Rolls-Royce Phantom EWB. It is a vibrant blue with a royal blue and gold flag mounted on the bonnet.

Whoa! This is GORGEOUS!

Harry and I exchange looks and Mick smiles and takes our backpacks.

“Enjoy the ride, and it will be our little secret. Have you let anyone
back home know that you have arrived in the UK yet?” asks Mick.

“No, not yet,” says Harry.

Mick smiles a strange smile and says, “perfect.”

I shiver a little but then look around the interior of the beautiful limo
and take it all in. There is so much room, and it even has massage seats and a tv screen! I can only imagine how luxurious the hotel must be that owns this beauty.

Ah well, the backpackers we booked have shared bathrooms – I guess we have running hot water at least!

“Where were you booked and what time were they expecting you?” Mick asks.

Harry tells him about the backpackers where we are booked for tonight and reads the address.

While they are talking, I snoop around the drawers and little compartments lining the length of the limo.

There is a scuffed-up duffel bag at the end of the seat which looks a little out of place. I kick it with my foot and a short length of thin rope falls out. I try to push it back in but then a mini shovel falls out caked in dried soil.

This doesn’t seem good. Maybe Mick is a gardener? Strange to keep that stuff in the limo though, right?

Mick slows the car and central locks all of the doors. He tells me angrily to leave the bag alone. The friendly demeanour has soured and he eyes me suspiciously from the rear-view mirror.

“We will be taking our own little detour now. Turn your phones off and hand them and your passports to me.”

What we now know for sure is that this is one transit we will never forget.

2 responses to “Creative Writing – B3”

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