Read Girl on a Plane for Free Online Page B

glasses of water, one for each of us. Before I can stop him, Tim tops Fred’s water up with his.
    â€œTim!
You
need that!” I cry.
    â€œBut . . . it’s just . . . I was worried . . .” His face crumples.
    â€œYou’re probably right,” I say quickly. “Fred needed more too. Here, have some of mine.”
    With Sweaty at the back, the Giant at the front, the bomber in the middle, and the two new hijackers sitting in first class, the plane takes off again. I glance at my watch. Two thirty. There’s that moment of weightlessness and then the lurch as my stomach hits the ceiling.
    I look through Tim’s window at the hazy shapes below getting smaller and smaller. The plane circles over the airport, stops climbing so steeply, and levels out.
    â€œWe’re not going so high,” I say.
    â€œNo.” David’s face is resigned. “Looks like they really are taking us to their Revolutionary Airstrip after all.”
    â€œAnd I was hoping for a miracle,” I say.
    â€œWell”—​Tim leans forward to look at us—​“we’re still all in one piece.” David and I smile at each other, surprised, then look back at him. “What?” he says, frowning. “It’s what my dad says.”
    â€œAnd it’s perfect,” I say. He looks pleased.
    At last the baby’s cries gradually begin to subside into sobs, then snuffles, then silence as he sleeps. And the plane continues droning on and on in the wrong direction.

8
1530h
    The captain has just come onto the intercom to tell us that we’re still flying south from Beirut, down the Mediterranean coast. Tim and I look out the window, but there’s nothing but sea on this side.
    â€œWhat about a game of cards, you two?” David slaps a pack down on my table. “Can you play whist?” He starts to shuffle, slicing the cards around, arcing and flipping them together, looking worryingly expert.
    He explains the rules to us and then deals. I look at my hand, trying to remember what he’s just said, but I can’t focus properly. My brain just hasn’t taken it in.
    David starts winning one trick after another.
    â€œYou’ve played this a lot, haven’t you?” I say.
    â€œYep.” He grins and trumps me again. When he wins the game, he shuffles and deals once more.
    I look at my new cards. “David, you can’t have shuffled them properly.”
    â€œWhat’s the matter? Bad hand?”
    â€œYes.
Again.
”
    His tricks pile up.
    Tim looks despondent. “I’ve only managed to win one trick!”
    â€œIt’s because
he
keeps changing the rules,” I say, leaning the other way, trying to steal a look at David’s cards.
    â€œHey!” He moves them out into the aisle where I can’t see. “Typical!”
    â€œTypical cheat,” I say, putting down a feeble two of clubs. “We’ll play cheat next, Tim. Then we can
all
do it.”
    â€œWould this be because I’m winning?” David asks airily. And then, when he does win: “I don’t expect you want another game?”
    I shake my head. “No, thanks.”
    While David gathers up the cards and packs them away, Tim gets his Etch A Sketch out again.
    â€œI’m going to draw you, Anna, and then you, David,” he says.
    And soon the wobbly lines of an unflattering portrait appear on the screen. “Really!” I cry. “Look at the size of my nose!”
    â€œSorry.” Tim tips the Etch A Sketch up to clear the screen and starts again.
    â€œWhat about that?” he says.
    â€œMuch better. Though my chin’s a bit on the witchy side.”
    David leans over to look. “No, I’d say that’s quite accurate.”
    Suddenly the intercom crackles overhead, and we all tense.
    â€œ. . . do you mean?”
The captain’s voice is full of anger.
“Look, if you can’t give