All Inclusive Read Online Free PDF

morning than this eternal whinge. Whenever, wherever they travelled by plane, Beth always said the passport thing as they were leaving the house, then again at the M25 junction (still just possible to turn back if, after frantic scrabbling through bags, the word ‘no’ came up) and then once more – as just now – way past the point of no return, on this slip road too close to Gatwick. If this irritated Delilah, then tough. As Delilah herself would say,
get over it
.
    Her passport enquiry was as firmly a part of Beth’s established holiday ritual as crossing herself and her fingers as the plane took off and having a Bloody Mary nerve-steadier in the departure lounge, regardless of time of day. If these things didn’t get said/done, the whole expedition would go horribly wrong. Either the plane would plummet to earth somewhere over the Brecon Beacons, or they’d miss the flight altogether and spend the next two weeks at home, miserably thinking of everyone else on the beach slapping on the lotions against too much sun and guzzling daiquiris at dusk. It was nothing to do with control and paranoia, nothing at all, merely good old-fashioned superstition and nothing wrong with that, if it was all the same to everyone.
    â€˜Zone X,’ Beth muttered to herself as she followed a heavily laden Volvo estate into the North Terminal’s long-term car park. She waited a tense second for Delilah to comment on her talking to herself, but therewas at last a welcome silence from behind. She would take this as a good sign. Perhaps, scenting aircraft fuel in the air, Delilah was grudgingly allowing herself to become just a teeny bit excited to be going with them, rather than spoilt-brat crotchety about it. Surely any other girl would have leapt about with delight to be taken on a two-week Caribbean holiday during termtime? A bit of ‘Wow! Thanks Mum!’ wouldn’t go amiss. Beth was willing to concede that the weary aftermath of glandular fever ruled out the leaping bit, but, please God – she put in an ardent request – let her lighten up or she’d personally take Delilah snorkelling a long, long way out to sea and get Carlos to drive the boat back fast to the beach, leaving the girl to see how far sulking got her among the sharks and swordfish.
    â€˜Oh. Oh we’re here.’ Ned shook himself, yawned and stretched, knocking his fingers against the rear-view mirror. He rubbed his hand, yawned again and then clambered out of the car and stood blinking in the chill morning air like a bear fresh out of hibernation.
    â€˜Delilah? Do you want to lock your phone in here?’ Beth asked as she stashed the house keys in the Audi’s glove compartment.
    â€˜Er . . . no? Like, I’ll need it?’ She was doing that irritating thing that teenagers did, talking to her with that ‘Are you
completely
mad?’ insinuation at the end of every simple sentence. Beth sometimes wondered if she’d been right not to believe in corporal punishment. Obviously she wouldn’t ever consider walloping a toddler, but there were certainly times during these mid-teen years of Delilah’s when Beth was sure that giving her a hearty slap would do them all some good.
    â€˜No you won’t.’ Ned seemed to have snapped awake at last. ‘It won’t work on the island.’
    â€˜But . . . uh? Texting?’
    Her father gave her a look. ‘Oh God,
all right
! Delilah handed over her phone and watched with an expression of utter misery as her absolute best friend and lifeline was locked away.
    â€˜They’ve got an Internet room at the hotel,’ Beth consoled her as they wheeled their luggage to the shuttle bus stop. ‘You won’t be completely cut off from the rest of the world.’
    What
is
that woman wearing? What does she think she looks like? Delilah sat on the front of the baggage trolley and studied the broad pink velour bottom of the passenger