A part of her wanted to just stay in her seat. Curl up and hide. Wait for the plane to turn around and take her back. She hadn’t realised how comfortable she had actually become in London. So what now? When she got off the plane, walked through the airport and hailed a cab – then what? How did she begin to walk back into her life? Did she just turn up on the front doorstep? Finally she stood up and began to head down the aisle – after all, she really had no choice. She was slowed by another passenger who was lagging behind the others – an older man in an untucked business shirt and jeans. He seemed to be having some trouble getting his bag out of the overhead compartment. He gave her an apologetic look when she reached him. ‘Sorry about this . . . stuck,’ he added unnecessarily. ‘No worries, let me give you a hand,’ she offered. As she tugged at his bag while he pushed from the other side, he chattered away to her.
