Heart Surgeon in Portugal Read Free Page B

the windscreen during her driving test. Weeks after her eighteenth birthday she had passed first time: Jon had to have two goes and for once in her life Ellie could crow over her very clever brother.
    It was just unfortunate that her little finger caught in the briefcase zip-tag and slid the zip open - but she did manage to catch the wretched thing before it brained the sleeping woman in the seat in front. ‘Ouch!’ yelped Ellie as pain seared through her hand.
    Everyone in the vicinity looked up in surprise - including Mr Big.
    Nothing could prevent the sea of papers which were cascading everywhere.
    Watching the infuriated Mr Big spring from his seat and come striding towards her through the confetti she had made of his precious documents, Ellie had immediate and heart-sinking recall of an inoffensive little bottle of mineral water being confiscated when she passed through Airport Security …
    And Mr Big was absolutely seething. ‘What the devil d’you think you’re up to you - you …’ Words seemed to fail him but he looked nasty enough to throttle her and instinctively Ellie flinched away from him.
    ‘You can see it was an accident!’ she flung back in self-defence. ‘That lady would have been badly hurt if your c-case had landed on her. I’ve just prevented a n-nasty injury. For which you would have been r-r-responsible!’ Furious with herself for sounding so stuttering and breathless, she quickly gathered in the pieces of paper being thrust toward her on all sides, cramming them back into the open briefcase, tight red tee-shirt heaving with humiliation.
    ‘If you weren’t such a clumsy little idiot this wouldn’t have happened in the first place,’ he snarled, snatching back his briefcase and towering over Ellie’s quaking form.
    Ellie had to acknowledge there was a certain logic to this but she refused to let him put her in the wrong, just because she was half his size and couldn’t see inside the overhead lockers.
    ‘Y-you rammed your briefcase in, right in front of my stuff,’ she retaliated bravely. ‘If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s yours!’
    ‘Hear hear!’ called her American admirer and a few others - who hadn’t really seen what happened but had decided the posh man was bullying the pretty girl -joined in the general muttering. Several lone sheets had floated a few rows down and all were safely returned to Mr Big who gave Ellie one last withering scowl and then took himself back to his seat to sulk into his copy of The Guardian.
    Briefly distracted, the snogging couple resumed their canoodling.
    Ellie decided to take her mind off things and read her Portugal guide book, but her hands were shaking and her little finger was bruised and black.
    The lady across the aisle could see the girl was trembling in spite of the spirited way she had dealt with her accuser. She leaned across and put a comforting hand on her arm.
    ‘Storm in a teacup,’ she murmured, ‘no real harm done.’
    Her voice was low and melodious. And she had a lovely smile. Ellie wondered if she was famous .. there was something about her, something familiar …
    She smiled a wan thanks. Gradually the trembling stopped and the book held steady in her hands. But the finger still throbbed and blackened. She bought a large bottle of water from the drinks trolley and gulped down the lot.
    An hour later, she left her seat and went to the front of the aircraft where several passengers were waiting their turn in the loo queue. Because of the cramped legroom Mr Big’s legs were sticking out a bit in the aisle so she was extra careful not to bang into his shiny black shoes. It was just unfortunate and completely unintentional when her bare elbow rather roughly swept the edge of his newspaper. As she waited in the loo queue, Ellie could feel those dark eyes boring into her shoulderblades. And he was still watching when she came back to her seat, biting her lower lip as those speculative eyes examined her. How easy it was to read