Road to Casablanca (8 page)

Hours?
 
Cindy could barely stand the thought and wished she could be completely knocked out.

In fact, the more she considered it, she realized surgery with full-blown anesthesia was far less cruel than air travel.
 
Next time, she’d consider that instead.

Chapter Six

The flight landed slightly ahead of schedule at
London
Heathrow
Airport
, and Cindy had to admit she had never felt happier to have her feet planted squarely on the ground.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad I could help.”

“You most certainly did.
 
I couldn’t have made it through the flight without you.”

Cindy stood in the long line of slow-moving passengers as they moved into the terminal and through the customs gates. Finally, she walked to the gate where her flight to
Morocco
was scheduled to take off in an hour.

It felt good to be on the ground again and Cindy knew now that she’d made it through the toughest and longest leg of her journey unscathed, and that the next flight would be far better.

Cindy watched as the flight attendants gathered at her gate and she approached them to ask a question, accidentally overhearing their conversation.

“Yes, it’s the biggest film festival in Europe besides
Cannes
.”

“You sure?
 
I’m not sure ’bout that.”

“It’s true! I tell you, it’s true.”

“That must be why we’re a dozen seats short.”

“Yeah, the American director, Martin Scorsese is comin’ through with his group and they overbooked.”

Cindy loved the British accents and hardly paid attention to their conversation until she noticed her flight attendant go to the gate and talk to the others.
 

“I understand you need volunteers.”

 
The greenish pallor of Cindy’s face had not gone unnoticed by the flight attendant, who saw her standing next to the counter.

“Hi.
 
How are you feeling now you’re on ground?”

“Oh, so much better thanks.”

The woman stared at Cindy in a way that made her feel strangely uncomfortable.

“Hey, can I ask you something?
 
We need some help here.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Your flight to
Morocco
was accidentally oversold by the airline and I need a few people to volunteer.”

“After all you’ve done for me, it’s the least I could do.
 
What’s up?”

“I need at least ten people to bump off this flight and go out in the morning, and after all you’ve been through, I thought you might be interested.”

Panic filled Cindy’s heart at the thought of being late for such an important date.

“But I can’t be late!”

“I realize it’s a lot to ask and I wouldn’t if it wasn’t really important.
 
Plus I know you’ve been through so much stress on the way over here it might actually be good for you to rest after the last flight.”

“But why?”

“There’s a film festival going on there now and we have some celebrities who somehow talked their way on the flight.
 
They claim it’s life or death for them to get over there and apparently our carrier overbooked, probably hoping people would cancel, which they didn’t do.”

“And you need how many people?”

“From the looks of it, we need ten people to volunteer before we start bumping people with no compensation.”

 
Cindy felt like the only answer she could give was yes, and nodded as her fate began to sink in. She hoped her date would not change his mind, or her absence would not ruin some plans he had.
 
There was no way to know any of that now, and she simply had to go with her instincts which told her to help this woman in any way she could.

“Okay, but I have to call and tell someone.
 
I don’t want them worrying about me.”

“We will take care of all of that.
 
All expenses will be covered and we have a really nice, quaint little hotel where we stay during layovers where you will stay.
 
Have you ever been out of the
US
before?”

Cindy shook her head.

“Then just think of it as a night you spent in
London
, one of the world’s great cities.
 
The hotel is nice and I think you will enjoy it.
 
I can almost guarantee you will feel a thousand times better for
Morocco
after you get some rest.”

“Okay.
 
I’m convinced, but when will I get to leave?”

“I already checked and the next flight to Marrakech leaves first thing in the morning at 7:00 a.m., so you really won’t be missing that much.
 
It’s only a few hours.
 
You won’t make it to dinner tonight, but by lunchtime tomorrow, you’ll be on the ground, ready to enjoy your vacation.”

Cindy searched every corner of her mind.
 
She recalled packing the agency’s number and would have to figure out how to call them as soon as possible.
 

She was not going to
Morocco
tonight. Period.
 

As the facts settled over her, Cindy had to admit that the thought of keeping her feet on the ground, if only for a few hours, actually felt really good to her.
 
The more she considered it, the more her tension began to release and she took the deepest breath she’d had in the past eight-and-a-half hours.
 
She wanted to make a favorable impression on her date, and maybe this was the best thing for her.

“Okay, I appreciate you thinking of me.
 
I will do it.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.
 
You are really helping us out.
 
Just step over here and I will get you all hooked up for your stay, okay?”

Cindy waited while the arrangements were made and within a few minutes she was standing in front of the airport as a black car came and took her to the nearby hotel.

London
looked like a busy and exciting city.
 
Cars whipped around traffic circles so quickly it was nearly as dizzying as her plane ride over.
 
Soon, they were parked in front of a small, two-story stone brick hotel wrapped in the dense damp fog.

The wall-to-wall carpeting in the lobby gave the hotel a warm, cozy feeling that insulated Cindy from the damp, humid air outside.

“Good evening, ma’am.”

“Hello.”

“One night?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Your accommodation has been taken care of, miss. Here is your key; breakfast will be served in this area to my right from 6:00-9:00 a.m.
 
Anything else?”

“I need to call the
United States
as soon as possible.”

“Of course.
 
Go to your room, pick up the phone and dial zero and I can patch you through wherever you like.”

Cindy walked up a creaky flight of stairs and down a long hall, opened the door to her room and threw herself on the bed.
 
It felt so good to lie down.

Having had time to consider where her contact numbers were, Cindy instantly pulled out the Lovemore Agency phone number and called the front desk for help.
 
She wished she’d had Erick’s number so she could call him directly, but the agency was clear about not giving out any personal information, so this would have to do.

“Hello?”

Cindy recited the number, thrilled she would not have to figure out how to use the international codes.

“Please patch me though.”

The phone rang several times and Cindy wondered if she would have to leave a message when a husky voice answered the phone.

“Hello?
 
Lovemore Agency.”

Cindy thought she recognized the voice, but wasn’t sure.

“Diana?”

“Yes.
 
Who is this?”

“Cindy.
 
Cindy Brown.
 
You know the one who is going to…”

“Yes, I know.
 
What’s the problem?”

Cindy heard the tension in Diana’s voice and it made her nervous, although Diana had made her nervous from the moment she’d spotted the gargantuan woman.

“My flight is delayed in
London
.
 
I’ll be arriving tomorrow morning instead of tonight.”

“Oh, okay.
 
Thank you for calling me.
 
I will call Mr. Redmund right away and let him know.
 
Everything else okay?”

Besides the fact she was scared to death?

“Sure, everything’s just fine, thanks.”

“Wonderful.
 
Any idea what time you’ll be arriving?”

Cindy gave the pertinent details of her trip and suddenly felt the exhaustion of the plane ride consume her as her legs began to give way underneath her and she leaned up against the small oak dresser, finally taking a seat on the foot of the bed.

“Thank you for calling, Cindy.
 
I’ll let Erick know.”

“Thank you.”

Cindy sighed with relief, lay down and fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

Chapter Seven

“What do you mean, she’s not coming?”