The Dr Pepper Prophecies Read Free Page A

so irrational, I will.  I’ll see you at work tomorrow.'
    He lets go of my trolley and starts to walk away.  I stare after him.  He doesn’t look back.
    He’s actually going to leave, isn’t he?  He’s actually going to leave me stranded here.  I mean, I know I told him to, but he’s supposed to realise that I’m trying to save face.  How else am I going to get home?
    He’s gone.  He’s left me.  I’m dumped and abandoned.
    Bastard!

Chapter 3
     
    I need a phone.
    I dump my bag on the top of my trolley and hunt through it.  Where’s my…?  Oh.  I left it at home, due to astronomical phone bill.  This is why I prefer the Internet.
    Pay phone.  It’s an airport, there must be pay phones.  I can’t be the first woman this has happened to.
    I look around wildly as I zip up my bags.  I’m looking too fast to read the signs.  Slow down, try again.
    Lifts, toilets, arrivals, information.  Pay phones.
    I heave my trolley in that direction.  It keeps trying to curve round to the right.  I nearly run over several people’s toes.  Every single time I have to use one…
    I find a phone and guard it while I rummage in my bag for my English money.  Then I feed the phone all my twenty pence pieces.  And dial Will’s number.
    It starts to ring.
    He has to be home.  Will’s always home.  He gets withdrawal symptoms if he’s away from his computer for more than a couple of hours.
    He picks up. 'Knightley.'
    Thank God. 'It’s me,' I say.
    'Welcome back!  Are you home already?'
    'I’m at the airport.'
    'I thought Martin was picking you up?' Will says.
    'We broke up,' I say.
    'Ah.'
    'I don’t fit his image anymore,' I add.
    'Oh.'
    'I refused to let him drive me home,' I explain.
    'I see.'
    'And I’m stuck.'
    'You could take a bus,' Will points out.
    'I could,' I admit.
    'Or a train.'
    'True,' I whisper.
    'I’ll be there as soon as I can.'
    'I love you,' I say.  I can hear Will smiling down the telephone.
    'See you in a bit.'
    'Bye.'
    I hang up.  Already I feel better.  I love Will’s voice.  It’s deep and rich and velvety.  Beth once called it sexy, but I can’t hear that.  For me, listening to it is like getting a hug.  And, in the twenty-five years we’ve known each other, I’ve needed a lot of those.
    Nothing to do now but wait.  I grab my trolley and go off in search of a chair.
     
    **
     
    By the time Will arrives I’ve read an article on ‘30 reasons why it’s great to be single’ and I’m killing myself laughing over Sophie Kinsella’s latest.  Plus I’ve bought myself a box of Belgian chocolates and I’m really feeling much more positive about this whole thing.
    Some sixth sense mak es me look up in time to see Will heading towards me.  He’s wearing his standard blue jeans, battered Timberland boots that he’s had for about ten years and my favourite soft cream shirt that makes me want to hug him even more.  Will is tall and dark and has blue eyes.  He looks kind of like a young Jeremy Northam – think Emma .  He’s way too good-looking to be an accountant.
    He gets to me and stands there, looking down at me. 'One day,' he says, 'I’ll stop bailing you out and you’ll have to manage on your own.'
    'I can manage on my own,' I protest, as I start shoving everything into my bag.
    'I know you can,' Will says, folding his arms across his chest. 'The problem is that you don’t.'
    'Can’t you be more sympathetic?' I say, finishing packing my bag and getting up. 'I did just get dumped.'
    Will sighs. 'Mel, I am sympathetic and I am suitably outraged on your behalf at how that frelnik has treated you.  I’m not saying this to be nasty, I’m saying it because I’m your friend and I’m trying to be honest with you.'
    'Could you be honest later?' I ask, moving closer and leaning my head on his chest. 'I’m very upset.'
    'You’re better off without him,' Will says, hugging me. 'I don’t know what you ever saw in him anyway.'
    By this point, neither do