Trust Me
by
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Anita succumbed to the inevitable and returned to her seat to stare glumly out of the window as the engines revved and the plane began its journey to the take-off runway. She was stuck here now. She should have controlled her temper and done as Luke said and not got on.
Once aloft, a combination of her reluctance to pursue any more conversation with Mr NextSeat leading her to stare out at the endless blue with sporadic clouds through the porthole, along with the soporific droning of the engines, resulted in her dozing off. When she woke the plane was beginning its descent. The nap, however fitful, had refreshed her sufficiently that her natural optimism reasserted itself.
Once stationary on the ground in Barcelona, Anita collected her hand baggage and joined the shuffling line of people leaving the plane. Mr NextSeat was ahead of her, but somehow on reaching the terminal he was behind her. There was something about him that raised the hair on the nape of her neck. She was sure she felt his eyes on her the whole time, but managed to stop herself turning to check. She’d be glad when they finished with officialdom and she need never see him again.
When she entered the arrivals hall, after passport control and collecting her baggage from the carousel, she noticed a bank of drivers holding up the names of their previously booked passengers. As she was about to move away to find what coaches were available for the last lap of her journey, her brain caught up with her eyes as she recognised Luke’s name. Her spirits perked up. This was more like it. She approached the sign holder and identified herself.
“But whhhere ees Señor South?” he asked while looking behind her.
“He missed the plane and will come on later.”
“I supposed to collect Señor South. No one say nothing about you”.
Anita firmed her lips, she’d had more than enough of her wishes being ignored. “Nevertheless, here I am and here he is not. I’m sure he will be very annoyed if you do not take me to our hotel.”
The driver, whose name was found to be Esteban, stood his ground valiantly all the way out to his car. But ultimately Anita, bolstered by the emotional buffeting she had endured throughout the day, prevailed. Triumphantly she got in the car as Esteban stuffed the luggage in the boot.
Esteban was still muttering as he slid behind the wheel and set off, driving with one hand and apparently ignoring all other traffic despite discordant horns and flashing lights. The car’s efficient air conditioner was a relief after the dry heat outside, even though it was night. Spain was certainly a change from England’s cool May weather. Soon the traffic thinned and the car picked up speed. Suddenly a ring tone drew Anita’s attention from the darkness outside. Esteban answered it and soon was gabbling indecipherably. It didn’t sound like Spanish. At least not like her GCSE Spanish. Probably a dialect, she decided. With nothing to see outside and Esteban’s voice rabbiting on, crowning her day of mega-stress, Anita let herself zone out.
When she came to, a couple of hours later according to her watch, the car was still travelling through the pitch of the night and Esteban was still on the phone. Surely he had not been on for the whole time? Ingrained manners initially held her back from interrupting, but eventually, with no way of knowing how long the call was going to take, the need to have some questions answered won out and she tapped on the glass partition which was only half drawn across. His eyes met hers in the mirror. He appeared annoyed as he lifted his hand off the steering wheel to gesture towards the phone in his other hand at his ear. With no warning the car slewed towards the middle of the road. Anita screamed. Esteban’s hand was quickly back on the wheel as he readjusted the car’s direction with no discernible disruption to his phone conversation, although it might not have been quite as heated as before. Anita slumped back in her seat, defeated.
Finally, Esteban finished his conversation and slid the phone onto the dashboard before turning up the radio with the obvious intention of discouraging conversation. Undeterred, Anita leant forward and raised her voice. “How much further?”
Her only response was a Latin shrug of his shoulders. Not sure if this meant he did not know the distance or did not understand the question, Anita gave up and flopped back in her seat. There was not much she could do anyway.
The journey continued until eventually the car slowed and turned off the main road onto a rough, unmade track. There didn’t appear to be any lights or buildings. Where the hell were they? Anita sat upright and tasted the metallic flavour of fear flood her system. This was not Salou, with its promised bright lights from numerous bars and clubs.
The car drew to a halt in front of a small building. It was not possible to see much in the dark, although some light could be discerned behind badly drawn curtains at a window. Esteban turned in his seat. “We arrive,” he announced unnecessarily.
“But where? This is not Salou,” Anita said.
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About the Book
It was meant to be a romantic holiday and Anita is waiting to board a plane to Spain with Luke, her relatively new boyfriend, when he starts acting strangely and uncharacteristically. She is bewildered and concerned, then irritated with his actions but when he starts issuing orders, it is the last straw and she defiantly boards the plane without him. By the following day, as a result of her impetuosity, she is in Spain, alone, and in the hands of a dubious group controlled by the sinister Señor Bolaño. They want information she has not got and it is only through the protection of Manuel, one of her abductors whom she intuitively trusts virtually from their first meeting, that she has not succumbed to outright terror and panic.
Manuel, an undercover Spanish policeman, had spent two years fast-tracking his way to become a trusted confidant of Señor Bolaño, only to have his careful plans derailed by the English Señorita’s impulsive nature and his immediate attraction to her. The pursuit of a state-of-the-art device, the erstwhile Luke’s involvement and further abductions and escapes across Spain and Portugal set the pace for their whirlwind romantic adventure. Will they both survive to start a lifetime of love?
About the Author
Patricia H Squire was born in Venezuela and throughout her childhood also lived in Argentina, Iraq and Portugal. She has had a range of jobs including Personal Assistant, dental nurse and secretary, radio operator in the WRNS (Women’s Royal Naval Service), teacher and library administrator for an animal welfare charity. She is married with two grown up sons and currently lives in Sussex with her husband and ancient cat.
Patricia has a BA Hons in English Language and Literature also an MA in Creative Writing and Authorship. This is her first completed novel, although she has written several short stories, a number of which were entered in competitions and awarded “Highly Commended”, with one in an anthology entitled First Impressions published by Sussex University. Patricia’s non-fiction writing includes a Cat Puzzler Book and Dog Puzzler Book, as well as co-authoring a book on puppies under the name of Patricia King – all these were produced by Fine Folio Publishing Ltd.