Panic Button (4 page)

Outside, Max and Dave helped the stern-faced driver load everyone’s luggage into the boot of the limo.

“Thanks,” Jo said, more to Max than Dave.

Before closing the boot, the driver pulled out a small leather pouch and unzipped it.

“Gentlemen, your phones please.”

Dave took his phone from his trouser pocket, turned it off and dropped it into the pouch. He was a picture of nonchalance. Jo looked on as Max hesitated for a moment, wiping a smear of finger grease from his phone display before doing the same. The gesture was tender, almost loving - he was clearly fond of technology.

“Thank you. Ladies?” The driver shook the open pouch at Jo and Gwen, who were seated inside the limo. Gwen reached across Jo’s lap and deposited her girly-looking phone inside the pouch.
 
The driver, openly wrinkling her nose at the glitzy handset, held the pouch out to Jo.

“No, sorry I can’t,” Jo said, “I promised my daughter I’ll keep in touch this weekend.”

The driver paused a moment,
then cleared her
throat. “It is a mandatory stipulation. Phones may interfere with the game.”

“Then I’ll turn it off.”

“Ah, come on...” Dave said, climbing aboard the stretch limo.

“The rules of the competition state that
all
phones are to be relinquished for the duration of the flight,” the driver continued, “Otherwise the competition is null and void - for all participants.”

“It’s just for a few hours,” Max said.

Jo’s fingers tightened their grip on the handset, a physical manifestation of maternal instinct.
Our lifeline.

 

The driver smiled at her. “It is only a few hours. I can’t change the rules, I wish I could...”

Jo glanced at the limo, Dave and Gwen’s impatient eyes peering back at her. Max gave her a reassuring nod as if to say
if I can do it, so can you
.

“Okay, okay. Just give me a second.”

Palms sweating, Jo speed-typed a text message.
 
NO PHONES ALLOWED ON PLANE PUMPKIN. CALL U WHEN I GET 2 NY. LUV U MUM XXX

The driver continued smiling, though her eyes were pencil hard. “Feels like losing a limb, doesn’t it?”

Jo wondered if the driver was enjoying her power trip perhaps a little too much. She nodded solemnly and hit SEND, before turning her phone off and dropping it into the pouch.

Max hopped into the limo after her and the driver closed the door behind them, still clutching the pouch. Moments later, the engine purred and they were off and away from the terminal building.

The interior of the limo was like an Aladdin’s Cave of riches. The seats were upholstered in the finest leather with chrome door fittings and sparkling tinted glass windows. On the right hand side of the limo, running the full length from the driver’s partition to the rear seats, a bar was stocked with decanters, glasses and yet more champagne on ice. Beneath the glass surfaces of the bar, the rainbow
colours
of ultraviolet mood lighting undulated and bathed the limo interior in a psychedelic party glow.

Max was busy examining a pedestal situated between the bar and the seats, which was topped with a little control panel of shiny chrome buttons. He fiddled with the buttons and, with a click and a whirr, an LCD flat screen television popped up out of the pedestal.

“Whoa,” Max said, awestruck.

The screen flickered into life automatically; displaying the same All2gethr logo the passengers had seen at the winners’ lounge. The animated alligator graphic sprang into life, uncurling itself from the globe and popping the cork on a cartoon bottle of champagne. Computer generated bubbles filled the screen, arranging themselves into a single word: ‘CONGRATULATIONS!’

“The riches.” Max grinned at Jo, who smiled back in agreement.

Dave stroked the soft leather arm of his seat, luxuriating in his surroundings, peering out of the window with glee in his eyes.

 

“Can you see it yet?”

“Oh-my-God!” Gwen already had her head out the window on her side of the limo.

Max and Jo followed suit, opening the sunroof and standing up to get a better look.

“Check it out!” Jo exclaimed.

There it was, in the distance, the embodiment of material success fashioned from metal, glass and rubber - a gleaming white private jet. As the stretch limo drove nearer, Jo saw the words ‘
Deppart
Airlines’ emblazoned on the fuselage. She grinned at Max as the crosswind blasted their faces.

“Yeah! Woo-
hoooo
!” Max hollered, ecstatic.

The others joined in, their gleeful voices buoyant on a collective wave of excitement and anticipation for the adventure to come, as the limousine drove on.

Jo and the others clambered out of the limo, eyeing the jet in awe.
 
It was even more impressive at this close distance, all sleek lines and immaculate paintwork. The side of the aircraft, nearest the nose, had ‘Challenger 604’ painted on it in fancy gold calligraphy. The cabin door was open, stairs down in welcome. A stocky baggage handler, dressed in overalls and a fluorescent tabard, started loading their bags into a luggage apartment under the watchful gaze of the limo driver.

Dave bounced up and down on the tarmac. “Yeah baby!”

Gwen sidled up to Jo. “Boys and their toys, eh?”

“Yeah, got to confess though, I am just a tiny,
weeny
bit impressed.”

“Me too!” Gwen laughed. “Who’s going first?”

Dave already had one foot on the steps. He stepped back, gesturing to Gwen that she
go
first.

“After... me!” He squeezed in front of her and hopped up the steps.

“You swine!” Gwen laughed and followed behind.

“Age before beauty,” Jo said to Max, who smiled, grabbed the handrail and climbed the steps.

Jo followed close behind and paused for a moment before boarding, feeling uncomfortable. She turned, looked back down the steps and caught the luggage man eyeballing her. Jo held his gaze for a few seconds before turning back to the jet entrance. Men like him looked at her like that sometimes, especially when she had to run the gauntlet of the building site around the corner from her workplace, but she’d caught something else in the baggage handler’s eyes. Was it contempt? Maybe he was just resentful that she and the others were flying to New York in style while he lugged their suitcases around on the runway like a lackey. He wouldn’t be scowling if he knew how crappy her day job was, that was for sure.

Goosebumps formed on Jo’s arms and she wasn’t quite sure if they were the product of the man’s stare or the intensifying crosswind. She took a lungful of air and stepped inside the aircraft. It had been such a long time since she’d flown.

The Alligator’s familiar voice greeted them one-by-one over a loudspeaker as they entered the plush private jet.

“Dave, Gwen, Max and Jo - welcome aboard! We hope you enjoy your flight.
 
This is
Deppart
Airlines executive charter flight D-665 to New York.”

Classical music lulled through the cabin like a calming breeze. Dave led the way inside. The jet’s compact interior was impeccably stylish, all pristine marbled surfaces and warm lighting. Four stylish beige leather seats, each with a computer touch screen, dominated the central cabin space. The chairs
swivelled
so the passengers could face each other over polished drinks tables. Each screen displayed the name of one of the four winners in sleek blue all2gethr.com branding. The cockpit entrance was curtained off at the front of the plane. An illuminated sign indicated the bathroom to the rear. A bar area, also at the rear, was stocked with yet more champagne on ice and numerous spirits, next to a wall mounted LCD screen. Unlike the others, this particular screen was off.

 

“This is incredible,” Gwen said, looking at her name displayed in big blue characters on the touch screen computer monitor.

“So this is how the other half live, eh?” Dave grinned from ear to ear. “They have a bar, oh
yes
.”

“I could get used to this,” Max said, flopping down in front of his touch screen, “No expense spared I see.”

The letters of his name moved into an animated swirl, forming the all2gethr.com logo. Once again, the Alligator uncurled itself from the globe and stared out from the screens. Jaw waggling in vaguely lip-synched animation, its voice boomed over the speakers as the music faded out.

“As guests of all2gethr.com, you are cordially invited to be pilots in an all-new, exclusive social networking game. There are fantastic prizes to be won, including diamonds from Tiffany’s, VIP tickets for a Broadway show and, best of all, a brand new 4x4 Jeep!”

Jo and the others cheered and applauded.

“Stand by for further instructions. Please make yourselves at home.”

The grinning Alligator faded from their screens and the saccharine orchestral melody returned.

Curiosity, and the need to be away from Dave’s ‘unique’ sense of
humour
for just a little while, led Gwen to the bathroom. Bright ceiling-mounted lighting flickered into life as she opened the door.

thought Gwen. She’d never seen luxury like this. The bathroom even had a shower cubicle as well as the requisite sink and toilet. A big LCD TV screen was mounted on the wall opposite the
loo
, little standby light glowing. She crossed to the sink and sniffed at the expensive soaps and
moisturisers
, stroking the soft cotton towels and flannels hanging there. There were even bathrobes, embroidered with the
Deppart
Airlines logo in heavy gold thread.
Lush,
she thought,
Emily will never believe me when I tell her about this.

 

Gwen chuckled under her breath, imagining the look on her sister’s face. Always the rebel, Emily would probably have stolen a bathrobe by now and been kicked off the plane, God love her. Gwen checked herself in the circular mirror. The movie star lighting surrounding the mirror was flattering, and she dabbed a little of the complimentary cologne behind each ear. She smiled at herself, playing the part of the private jet set princess for an imaginary prince on the other side of the looking glass.
What will my prince look like when he comes? More like Max than Dave I hope
, she chuckled to herself. The sudden whine of the engines startled her from her reverie. Remembering what she was about to do she clutched at the sink instinctively, expecting the plane to lurch forward at any moment. The fingers of her right hand fumbled beneath her silk scarf, finding the warm metal of the crucifix pendant, hanging from its delicate silver chain. She stroked the familiar shape, drawing comfort from it.

Her mind raced as she asked herself what she was doing here, alone on this plane, flying to New York with a group of strangers. But that was her father’s voice. She could hear his authoritative tones
sermonising
in her head, dismissing her hopes, her dreams of working in the fashion industry.
Focussing
on her reflection in the mirror, she recounted all the reasons why she had to do this trip, why she needed it so badly. New York could open so many doors for her - opportunities that simply didn’t exist at home. One such opportunity had arisen when a friend on Gwen’s All2gethr list had offered to introduce her to a top fashion magazine editor. She’d get herself a meeting at one of the NY fashion bibles while she was there - even if she had to sleep over in a foyer.