The Great Escape

Chapter One

 Georgie Basset

A Sunday in April

THE PLANE DROPPED DRAMATICALLY and shuddered, making me grit my teeth as I gripped the leather arms of the seat. A baby screaming its head off a few aisles back wasn't helping my nerves either. I hated flying, passionately. I'd always been a nervous traveller, so what had possessed me to make a trip halfway around the world, I had no idea. Well, actually I did. Abbie, my broken-hearted best friend. Attending weddings as a singleton when you were approaching thirty was hard enough for anyone, let alone seeing your recent ex there with another woman on his arm. Ok, maybe that part had been a huge misunderstanding, but it had been the last straw for her after a seriously crappy year, and she'd needed a time out to clear her head.

So here we were, flying to the Mayan Riviera for two weeks of sun and sangria, assuming they had sangria in Mexico. I really hoped they did, as tequila wasn't one of my favourite drinks. I'd tried my hardest to convince Abbie to come to my family's cute little cottage up on the Welsh coast in Dolphin Bay, anything to avoid flying, but she'd insisted she needed guaranteed sun, and that was one thing you certainly didn't get in Wales. A distorted voice over the tannoy system made me tilt my head to hear the announcement.

'Ladies and gentlemen, we're experiencing some turbulence. Please return to your seats, stow your tables, return your seats to the upright position, and fasten your seatbelts.'

I let out a "Humph" as I looked out of the window. Like I needed to be told we were experiencing turbulence. That last drop had been worse than a white-knuckle adventure park ride. A collective gasp and a few terrified screams rang out as the plane plummeted and rattled again. I shut my eyes and desperately tried to remember the words to The Lord's Prayer. I quickly gave up, religion never having been one of my strong suits, and instead silently promised to attend church on a more regular basis if his Holiness got us through this in one piece. I currently only went at Easter, for Reverend Potter's free Cadbury's Crème Eggs, at Christmas Eve, for the candlelit midnight finger buffet, and for the odd wedding or funeral. I had a feeling that if we crashed right now, I'd be going straight to hell.

Where the hell was Abbie? A commotion from the front of the plane made me half-open one eye and squint through it to see what was happening. A flustered air stewardess quickly pulled the curtain across the aisle, which only had the effect of everyone rubber necking to try and see whatever it was they didn't want us to see.

Shortly afterwards, another air stewardess rushed up the aisle carrying a pile of blankets and towels and disappeared behind the curtain. I opened both of my eyes fully and craned my neck like most of my fellow travellers, my heart sinking faster than my stomach had each time the plane rose then fell. Abbie still hadn't returned to her seat and I had a sickening feeling that she was somehow involved in whatever was happening. I reached up and pressed the button to call one of the cabin crew, and while I waited for someone to arrive, I debated whether or not I should just ignore the seatbelt instruction and run up there to see if she was alright.

'Is everything ok, Madam?' asked a perfectly made-up blonde, sporting a name tag that told me her name was Alice.

'No, it's not. My friend hasn't returned to her seat and there's something happening up there and I'm really worried about her.'

'Is her name Abbie?' A trace of an amused smile flickered across her face.

'Yes. Oh God, is she ok?' I demanded, dread filling me.

'She will be.' She placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder as she read my anxiety. 'There was an ... incident in the toilets.'

'An incident?' I felt my eyebrows rise as my eyes went wide. Abbie attracted trouble wherever she went. If something could go wrong, it went wrong with her at the centre of it. The stewardess leaned in and lowered her voice.