Last Act Read Online Free Page B

lucky, there are taxis. Ah …” The captain had come through on the intercom to announce their imminent departure.
    â€œGood,” said Herr Schann. “What time is your train?”
    â€œOne thirty.”
    He looked at his watch. “You should do it easily. I, too, go to the station for my local train home. I will see you to your train; that way there will be no delay—no strangeness, no questions.”
    â€œYou’re very kind.” She smiled at him gratefully. “I only wish my German was as good as your English.”
    â€œIt will come with practice. Here we go.”
    Anne leant back and closed her eyes. She had never much liked the moment of take-off, and was glad when they were airborne at last and she could look down at reservoirs, and neat green fields and then, inevitably, cloud.
    â€œThis will do you good.” She turned when Herr Schann spoke, and saw the stewardess holding out a small glass half full of brown liquid.
    â€œStrictly for medicinal purposes.” His English
was
good. He let down her table for her. “Take it slowly,” he warned.
    Brandy. On an empty stomach. Sheer madness, but the most heart-warming kind. Stomach-warming. She felt the pain ease as she took a further sip. “I needed that. Thank you so much.” She smiled at him warmly.
    â€œNow, rest,” he advised. “I will wake you when they bring our meal, whatever they call it. Breakfast for you, foolish child.”
    â€œYes. Thank you.” She closed her eyes and let herself drift into the light-headed tranquillity of the air. She was free … she was on her way. Herr Schann, kind Herr Schann, would see her safe to her train; Carl would meet her at Lissenberg … The pain ebbed and vanished. It had only been so bad because of yesterday’s exhaustion and today’s early start. In future, she would have more sense. An understudy’s life need not be too exacting … And she would be singing … She would be better when she was singing.
    â€œMiss Paget.” Herr Schann’s voice woke her. “Our lunch is here.”
    â€œOh.” She came dizzily awake to the stir and movement inthe plane as the loaded trolley edged down the aisle. “Thank you.” Taking her tray from the stewardess, she saw that Schann had moved over into the vacant third seat on the aisle. On the table between them stood two plastic glasses and two bottles.
    â€œI took the liberty of ordering.” He poured champagne carefully. “With food, it will do you good. In fact, you look better. You have slept for almost half an hour.”
    â€œGoodness.” She was wrestling with the close-fitting top of her lunch tray. “Have I really? I’m starving!”
    â€œNo wonder. Here, let me.” He reached over as she began the next struggle, to get plastic utensils out of their sealed polythene bag. “It is not only computers I can manage.” He produced a small penknife, slit the bag neatly and handed it back to her. “And your roll?”
    â€œOh, thank you!” The fresh but lifeless bread was just what she wanted. Washed down with her first sip of champagne it seemed the best food she had ever tasted. Presently, letting him refill her mug, she protested. “I shall fall asleep again.”
    â€œIt will do you good. I’ll wake you went we get there. Besides”—he refilled his own mug—“I am a selfish brute. You will not get nearly your share.”
    Cold paté, coleslaw, cold chicken … She ate them all, gratefully, even gnawing the chicken bone. “
Cold, cold, my girl
… But she was feeling better by the minute, what with the food and the champagne. I, who am dying, am alive at last, she thought. I shall make the most of it. Oh, God, how I will sing. Oh, Carl, how grateful I am.
    Schann was pouring a last trickle into her mug. She voiced a vague protest. “Are you sure you had more than