Secrets After Dark Read Online Free
Author: Sadie Matthews
why.
And that’s why this trip is giving me butterflies. Because there’s a little voice in my head that whispers: you might find out more. You might find out where he is.
Chapter Three
This is like no plane journey I’ve ever been on.
It’s usually a long drawn-out process: travelling to the airport, checking in, getting through security, waiting for long hours in the giant duty-free shopping mall, then heading with the rest of the crowd to the gate for another wait, and then the scrum of boarding. That’s all before we’ve actually gone anywhere.
This time a sleek dark car collects Mark and me from his Belgravia house, our luggage loaded into the back by the shaven-headed sunglasses-wearing driver, and then we fly through the London traffic as though we’ve got some kind of special dispensation to ignore the speed limit, the red lights and the bus lanes. It seems as though we’re at the airport in only minutes. Mark takes my passport and at some point it’s handed over to someone else through the car window, and then we are driving again. When we get out of the car, we are, to my astonishment, next to the actual plane. We’ve skipped the airport terminal altogether.
‘Come on, Beth,’ Mark says, smiling at my evident amazement, even though I’m trying to act smart, sophisticated and unflappable. ‘Let’s get on board.’
The plane’s interior is immaculate and luxurious: the lighting is soft and welcoming, a thick pale carpet covers the floor and large butter-yellow leather seats face each other across walnut-inlaid tables. An elegant stewardess is waiting for us just inside the door and smilingly shows us to our seats. I’m loving every minute so far. I could definitely get used to this.
‘We’ll be taking off as soon as you’re settled,’ says the stewardess. ‘I’ll be back when we’re airborne to check on you. Happy take-off.’ Then she heads off to a door towards the rear.
The seat is incredibly soft, and I’m almost absorbed into the buttery leather seats. I relax into it and snap my seat belt shut.
Mark leans over to me, fiddling with his rose-gold cufflinks as he often does. He’s smiling, his eyes twinkling with amusement. ‘You can’t say I don’t show you some of the high life, eh, Beth? Literally, today.’
‘You’ve done nothing but!’ I reply, laughing. It’s true. Ever since I started working for Mark, I’ve been allowed glimpses into a world I always vaguely knew was there, but not accessible to anyone from my way of life. Now, here I am, on a private plane. I shake my head. ‘It’s crazy.’
‘Enjoy it.’ Mark leans back in his seat, fastening his seat belt across his lap. ‘The rich at play can be an excellent spectator sport. As long as you don’t get tempted to join in.’
A few minutes later, the little plane taxis along to its runway, jolting slightly over the uneven ground. Outside the October day is overcast and I can already sense the evening approaching even though it’s only lunchtime. The plane pivots into position and, after a humming pause, it begins its take-off, the engine revving furiously as we gather speed. The nose tilts, we begin to lift and then we’re airborne, powering upwards into the sky as the land retreats below us. A minute ago, I was safely on the ground. Now I’m so high in the sky that if anything were to go wrong, it would mean death. So little between safety and peril. The thought sends a strange kind of excitement shimmering through me. We’re alive. We’re in the sky. Tremors ripple in my stomach with something like arousal. How odd – a plane taking off has never done that to me before.
Perhaps it’s an added bonus of private plane travel – a bit of extra excitement thrown in.
The beautiful stewardess appears, her make-up so perfect it looks as though it is part of her actual face and not painted on at all, and asks us in her soothing way what we would like to drink. Mark asks for champagne for both of
And that’s why this trip is giving me butterflies. Because there’s a little voice in my head that whispers: you might find out more. You might find out where he is.
Chapter Three
This is like no plane journey I’ve ever been on.
It’s usually a long drawn-out process: travelling to the airport, checking in, getting through security, waiting for long hours in the giant duty-free shopping mall, then heading with the rest of the crowd to the gate for another wait, and then the scrum of boarding. That’s all before we’ve actually gone anywhere.
This time a sleek dark car collects Mark and me from his Belgravia house, our luggage loaded into the back by the shaven-headed sunglasses-wearing driver, and then we fly through the London traffic as though we’ve got some kind of special dispensation to ignore the speed limit, the red lights and the bus lanes. It seems as though we’re at the airport in only minutes. Mark takes my passport and at some point it’s handed over to someone else through the car window, and then we are driving again. When we get out of the car, we are, to my astonishment, next to the actual plane. We’ve skipped the airport terminal altogether.
‘Come on, Beth,’ Mark says, smiling at my evident amazement, even though I’m trying to act smart, sophisticated and unflappable. ‘Let’s get on board.’
The plane’s interior is immaculate and luxurious: the lighting is soft and welcoming, a thick pale carpet covers the floor and large butter-yellow leather seats face each other across walnut-inlaid tables. An elegant stewardess is waiting for us just inside the door and smilingly shows us to our seats. I’m loving every minute so far. I could definitely get used to this.
‘We’ll be taking off as soon as you’re settled,’ says the stewardess. ‘I’ll be back when we’re airborne to check on you. Happy take-off.’ Then she heads off to a door towards the rear.
The seat is incredibly soft, and I’m almost absorbed into the buttery leather seats. I relax into it and snap my seat belt shut.
Mark leans over to me, fiddling with his rose-gold cufflinks as he often does. He’s smiling, his eyes twinkling with amusement. ‘You can’t say I don’t show you some of the high life, eh, Beth? Literally, today.’
‘You’ve done nothing but!’ I reply, laughing. It’s true. Ever since I started working for Mark, I’ve been allowed glimpses into a world I always vaguely knew was there, but not accessible to anyone from my way of life. Now, here I am, on a private plane. I shake my head. ‘It’s crazy.’
‘Enjoy it.’ Mark leans back in his seat, fastening his seat belt across his lap. ‘The rich at play can be an excellent spectator sport. As long as you don’t get tempted to join in.’
A few minutes later, the little plane taxis along to its runway, jolting slightly over the uneven ground. Outside the October day is overcast and I can already sense the evening approaching even though it’s only lunchtime. The plane pivots into position and, after a humming pause, it begins its take-off, the engine revving furiously as we gather speed. The nose tilts, we begin to lift and then we’re airborne, powering upwards into the sky as the land retreats below us. A minute ago, I was safely on the ground. Now I’m so high in the sky that if anything were to go wrong, it would mean death. So little between safety and peril. The thought sends a strange kind of excitement shimmering through me. We’re alive. We’re in the sky. Tremors ripple in my stomach with something like arousal. How odd – a plane taking off has never done that to me before.
Perhaps it’s an added bonus of private plane travel – a bit of extra excitement thrown in.
The beautiful stewardess appears, her make-up so perfect it looks as though it is part of her actual face and not painted on at all, and asks us in her soothing way what we would like to drink. Mark asks for champagne for both of
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