Heart Surgeon in Portugal Read Free

herself lavishly with the tester, selected the smallest size of the ‘eau de parfum,’ and debit card at the ready, hurried to the duty-free tills.
    ‘Boarding pass please,’ intoned a bored cashier, an unexpected demand which had Ellie scrabbling in her shoulder-bag while a queue built up behind her. Why hadn’t Jon warned her flying was so complicated?
    On board the flight she was a little disconcerted to see hers was an aisle seat next to an extremely amorous couple who were almost lying sideways, their entwined legs intruding into her own miniscule leg space. The man had greying hair and his companion, as much as could be seen of her, was also past the first flush of youth. They couldn’t be much younger than her parents! So embarrassing .
    A young American in khaki shorts gallantly heaved Ellie’s red trolley case up onto the rack. And though she wasn’t aware of it, was so charmed by her smile and her cute English accent, he quite forgave the blast of perfume which gave him a fit of the sneezes - and had every passenger within ten feet cringing for fear he’d got summer flu and was spreading his germs round the aircraft.
    The plastic carrier with the vital yellow folder and a few other bits and pieces (which Mrs Robey had insisted were essentials) got wedged safe and secure behind the red case. Ellie lowered herself gingerly into her seat, trying to keep her legs out of harm’s way.
    A flight attendant leaned over to ask the dishevelled couple to please sit up and fasten their seatbelts - which they did without a shred of embarrassment.
    ‘Bag under your seat, dear,’ the steward said to Ellie, then drew back swiftly, nose wrinkling in an odd sort of way. ‘Oh,’ said Ellie, and ‘sorry.’
    A glance at her watch showed take-off should have been five minutes ago. There’d been no announcement about any delay. She did hope they’d soon be airborne; the aircraft appeared to be full. Her companions, now upright, continued to kiss and caress each other so blatantly that Ellie turned her head away and prayed for take-off and a tail wind to speed the Faro flight.
    Across the aisle sat a handsome older woman in a cream linen trouser suit, white hair in a sleek chic bob, complexion expertly made up, apparently disinterested in the people pushing past to find their seats. Tortoiseshell half-glasses perched on her aquiline nose, she was poring over a typescript, diamonds glinting on thin manicured fingers, a bottle of mineral water tucked into the pocket in front of her and a cream Mulberry tote beneath her seat. Sensing Ellie’s scrutiny, the woman looked up, taking in Ellie and the canoodling lovebirds at a glance. She raised her perfect eyebrows, they exchanged rueful smiles, and the woman went back to her reading.
    Ellie was beginning to feel really fed up. Take-off was now ten minutes behind schedule. She glanced again at the woman across the aisle, wondering what was taking such close concentration. This passenger looked more used to flying business class than budget airline. Perhaps she owned a house out in Portugal and was a frequent flyer …
    A sudden flurry of activity at the front of the plane caught everyone’s attention. At the same moment the plane’s engines thrust into a drum-roll of thunder, a paean of welcome for the last – and late! – passenger. Three flight attendants, including one of the male stewards, were welcoming aboard a tall man, crowding around him. For all the world , thought Ellie, as if they’d got Prince Harry and Brad Pitt rolled-into-one coming on board.
    She dipped her head into the aisle, craning to get a better look. When nursing on Critical Care, she had taught herself to lip-read the mouth movements of patients hooked up to complex machines, and indignation rose as even from a distance she could tell this new passenger was thanking them for holding up the plane. What a nerve, making them late for take-off! Who did Mr Big Guy think he was – chairman of the