and scuffled round into a sitting position. Leaning my back against the cold hangar wall, I drew my legs up to my chest, gazing into the oppressive nothingness with wide-eyed fear. For the second time today I found myself muttering a desperate entreaty to the God of my childhood, while staring like a lost and lonely soul into the darkness.
It took me some time to realise that although my fleece jacket and handbag (including my mobile phone) had probably disappeared along with the locker, I still hadn’t checked the car park for my car.
Gingerly getting to my feet, I tried to hold back my tears and slowly walked the short distance to the car park with folded arms and hunched shoulders. I didn’t really want to look. The thought of not finding my car sitting waiting for me was so awful that I didn’t raise my head to look properly until the very last minute.
It was every bit as bad as I’d expected. Not only had the dozen or so cars disappeared, including my Suzuki Vitara jeep, but the gravel surface had gone too. A rusty tractor stood in the corner of a deserted field, but it might as well have been a spaceship for all the sense things were making right now.
There hadn’t been many instances in my life when I’d been at such a complete and utter loss. Once, at school, when I was about ten years old I’d been asked to stand up in class and recite a poem. My mind had buzzed emptily rather like it was buzzing now and my throat had dried to the point where I could barely swallow. But it had been warm in that room and the teacher had come to my rescue by leading me back to my chair and saying kindly that I could try again later.
Here it was cold, and I was on my own. A chilly wind whipped my dark blonde hair around my shoulders, and I shivered, hugging the jumpsuit closely round me, glad of the extra layer of warmth over my jeans and thin T-shirt. I wondered if anyone was likely to come and help me now. I thought probably not. If there was going to be any sort of rescue, then I would have to do it myself. Whatever had happened here, my only recourse was to try and find some shelter, some food and some warmth, a place to collect my wits and plan how I was going to get home.
I remembered passing a village on the way to the airfield this morning. Perhaps I would find help there. I walked down the dark road for what seemed like hours while the wind howled mercilessly and blew dried leaves down from the trees, making me jump with every rustle. When I finally saw the lights of a pub, I could have cried with relief. Pushing open the entrance door, I blinked in the sudden brightness and paused to take stock.
There was a fire burning in the grate against the opposite wall, a long wooden bar counter taking up most of the space to my left and about fifteen people of all ages sitting at tables. Squeezing past them towards the fire, I was surprised by the complete absence of cigarette smoke. I’d always hated the way smoke hung in the air stinging my eyes and throat, making my clothes and hair reek for hours afterwards.
As I took a seat halfway between the bar and the fire, I eyed the couple sitting on bar stools nearby, wondering how I was going to ask for help. I had no money about my person, no personal details or any form of identification. Who would take me seriously?
‘Can I get you anything, love?’
I glanced up to find the barman staring at me from behind the bar.
‘Er, do you have a pay phone I could use?’ I called back.
He pointed his head to the end of the bar. ‘There’s a phone out by the toilets, but you’ll need a phone card.’
‘Can I reverse the charges?’
He looked at me long and hard. ‘Are you alright, love?’
I felt myself blushing under his scrutiny. The couple at the bar were looking at me now and several of the other customers had stopped talking to glance my way. I suppose I looked a bit out of place sitting in an ill-fitting blue jumpsuit with my tear-stained face and lack of personal belongings.
‘I had an accident up the road there.’ It wasn’t too much of a lie, I thought. ‘I need to ring someone to come and fetch me.’
‘You look a bit peaky, are you hurt? Do you need an ambulance?’
‘No, really,’ I shook my head. ‘If I could just use your phone I could get my boyfriend to come for me.’
‘Where’s your car? It isn’t blocking the road or anything?’
‘No.’
‘And no one else was involved?’ The barman had come round the bar to get a better look at me. He held out a glass of water. ‘Here, drink this.’
He watched as I gratefully sipped the cool liquid. I hadn’t realised how thirsty I was.
‘You look familiar, somehow.’ He looked at me closely. ‘Are you from round these parts?’
I shook my head again. ‘I drove down from Surrey this morning.’
He seemed to come to a decision. ‘Come on round the back and you can use the house phone.’
‘I can’t pay you; I lost my handbag in the … accident.’
‘Don’t worry about it, love. Come on.’
I rose to my feet and followed him round the bar to a hallway where a phone hung on a plainly decorated wall. The customers watched for a moment then returned to their drinks. I could hear the kindly barman return to the bar as I picked up the handset and punched in the number for the house I shared with Calum.
Calum and I had moved in together six months ago after a whirlwind romance. He was several years older than me and had a ten-year-old daughter called Abbey. Abbey’s mother had died in a car accident eighteen months before I’d met them, and although things had been difficult between me and the resentful young girl for the first few months, we had gradually begun to gel into something resembling a family unit.
As I waited for him to pick up the phone, I thought about Calum’s horrified reaction when I’d first told him about the parachute jump. ‘Are you crazy?’ he had demanded when I’d shown him the sponsorship forms. ‘Don’t you realise how dangerous it is?’
‘People do parachute jumps all the time,’ I’d soothed him. ‘Nothing will happen to me.’
Over the next few weeks as I gathered sponsorship money, he had realised I wasn’t going to back down and had reluctantly added his own name to my list of sponsors. ‘I don’t think you realise that you are one of the most important people in my world,’ he whispered late one evening as we’d lain in bed. ‘I just couldn’t bear to lose you, Kaela. Promise me you’ll be careful?’
I knew he was terrified that history would repeat itself and snatch me away as it had his wife. His reservations were understandable and I’d tried to reassure him the best I could. We’d made love with an intensity sparked by fear and afterwards I’d lain awake listening to his even breathing thinking about how much I cared about him, whilst at the same time yearning for this one last chance at freedom.
At twenty-five the responsibilities I had so willingly taken on were more of a challenge than I’d expected. I was still trying to hold down my job as Graham’s personal assistant and would-be apprentice. It had been a smart career move when I’d been single and independent, but now I was doing a daily school run, helping with Abbey’s homework, shopping and cooking and cleaning for the three of us. More than once during the last six months I’d feared my parents might have had a point when they’d warned me about taking on a man of thirty four and his child.
‘Are you sure he’s not just looking for a new mother for his daughter?’ my father had cautioned me. ‘Is this really what you want to do with your life?’
‘He’s on the rebound,’ my mum added. ‘His wife has only been gone a year and a half; it’s too soon.’
But infatuation had conquered all. Calum had wined and dined