Behind Closed Doors(73)
‘Maybe he intended to ask me to then changed his mind. Look, don’t worry, I’m sure everything is all right. I’m sure he’ll be on that flight tonight.’
‘Do you think that if I phone British Airways in a couple of hours they’ll tell me whether or not he’s checked in?’
‘No, they won’t, not unless it’s an emergency. Passenger confidentiality and all that.’
‘Then I guess I’ll just have to wait until tomorrow morning,’ I sigh.
‘Well, when you see him, make sure you tell him off for worrying you. And tell him to send me a text to let me know he’s arrived.’
‘Then could you give me your mobile number?’ He gives it to me and I jot it down. ‘Thanks, Adam.’
Once again I have trouble sleeping. Early next morning, prettily dressed and beautifully made-up, I go down to the lobby. Mr Ho is once again at the reception desk. He guesses that I’ve come down to wait for Jack and tells me that I might have a long wait, as there are the queues at Passport Control to contend with plus the taxi ride from the airport. He suggests that I have breakfast, but I tell him that I prefer to wait for Jack, that he’ll no doubt be hungry when he arrives.
I find a seat not too far away from the main door and settle down to wait. As time goes on, I look at my watch anxiously and, when it is evident that something is wrong, I go over to Mr Ho and ask him if he can find out if the London flight arrived on time. He checks on his computer and, when he tells me that the flight was in fact delayed and is due to land at any moment, I can’t believe my luck, because I won’t have to pretend panic for another couple of hours. Mr Ho smiles at the look of relief on my face and I admit that I was beginning to worry at Jack’s non-appearance. I go back to waiting and Mr Ho brings me over a pot of tea to help pass the time.
When, almost two hours later, Jack still hasn’t arrived, it’s time to start feeling uneasy. I ask to use the phone at the reception desk and, as I dial Jack’s number, I tell Mr Ho that although Jack had warned me he might only be able to take the Wednesday evening flight, I can’t help feeling worried because he would have phoned to let me know. When I get through to his voicemail, my voice is shaky with tears of disappointment and frustration.
‘Jack, where are you? I know the flight was delayed, but you should be here by now. I hope it doesn’t mean that you’re not arriving until tomorrow—if that’s the case, you could have at least warned me. Have you any idea how worrying it is to be without any news from you for the last four days? Even if you didn’t want to answer your phone you could have phoned me, you must have got all my messages. Please give me a ring, Jack, it’s awful being stuck here not knowing what’s happening—not that I’m not being well looked after,’ I add hurriedly, aware that Mr Ho is listening, ‘because I am, but I just want you here. Please phone and tell me what’s happening—I’m in the lobby now, but I’ll be going back up to my room, or you can leave a message with Mr Ho at reception. I love you.’
I hang up to find Mr Ho looking sympathetically at me. He suggests that I go through for breakfast and, when I tell him that I’m not hungry, he promises to call me if Jack phones, so I let him persuade me to have something to eat.
As I make my way to the terrace, I bump into Margaret and Richard, the couple I met the day before on the trip to the temples, and my eyes fill with tears of disappointment when I explain that Jack hasn’t turned up. They tell me not to worry, pointing out that he had warned me he might be delayed, and insist that I spend the day with them. I tell them I’d rather stay in the hotel for the next couple of hours in case Jack phones or suddenly turns up, but that I’ll join them in the afternoon if he doesn’t.
I go up to my room and phone Adam. I’m relieved when he doesn’t pick up as it suits me to leave a message letting him know that Jack wasn’t on the flight. Later, I go down to join Margaret and Richard, the strain of not having heard from Jack clearly visible on my face, especially when I tell them that I’ve tried his mobile again several times without success. They are kindness itself and I’m glad to have them to take my mind off things. I punctuate the time I spend with them with fruitless calls to Jack’s mobile, urging him to phone me.
In the evening, my new friends refuse to let me sit and mope alone so we have dinner together, where they talk brightly about how much they’re looking forward to meeting Jack the following morning. I eventually get back to my room around midnight and find a message from Adam, saying he’s sorry he missed my call and asking if I would like him to go over to the house to see if Jack is still there. I phone him back and tell him that yes, if he doesn’t mind, but then we work out that if Jack is to catch the flight that evening, he will already have left for the airport. So I tell him not to bother and that I’ll phone him the moment Jack arrives and we joke again about the telling-off he’s going to get for worrying us all.
The next morning, Margaret and Richard keep me company while I wait for Jack to arrive from the airport so they are there to witness my distress when he doesn’t turn up. At Margaret’s suggestion, I try to find out from British Airways if Jack was on the flight, but they are unable to help me, so I phone the British Embassy. I explain everything to them and maybe because Jack’s name is known, they tell me they’ll see what they can do. When they phone back and confirm that Jack wasn’t on the flight, I burst into tears. I manage to pull myself together long enough to tell them that he doesn’t seem to be at home either, but, although they are sympathetic, they tell me there isn’t a lot they can do at this stage. They suggest I phone friends and relations in England to see if they know where he is and I thank them and hang up.