Journey to the Centre of Myself Read Online Free PDF

orange and eat a croissant. I wrap another in a napkin.
    The ride back to the airport takes three minutes. Where the hell did we travel around last night?
    Just after eight my mobile rings. Oh my God, it’s Steve. I totally forgot to call him.
    ‘Where the hell are you?’
    ‘Sorry, sorry, I forgot.’
    ‘I wanted to ring last night but daren’t in case you were sleeping. Are you there?’
    ‘No, I’m still in Frankfurt. We got snowed in, my plane leaves just before nine-thirty. Listen, funny story—’
    ‘I don’t have time, Kaz. I just wanted to check you were okay. Please keep in touch.’
    My teeth clench.
    ‘I’ll call you when I get to Berlin, but I won’t be ringing often, Steve. I’m here for some alone time.’
    ‘To get away from Adrian.’
    ‘To get away from everybody.’
    I hear a sigh. ‘I don’t have time for this right now. I’ll speak to you later.’
    He hangs up the phone.
    My brother works as a Sales Rep for a Pharmaceutical company. He has to travel a lot, sometimes for hours around the region. It’s hard work, but he is rewarded for it with a huge salary. He’s developed a thick skin and a pushy attitude to get where he is. I reckon he got his experience through being a bossy big brother.
    On the plane at nine-thirty, I smile as we set off. We travel around a hundred yards and stop. People look around at each other and then out of the window as if the tarmac could tell us why we’ve stopped. A few minutes later the tannoy starts, again with the German first. I watch as people stand up and put on their coats.
    ‘Engine problem,’ translates the guy next to me before it’s announced in English.
    ‘Are you kidding me?’
    ‘Ah, happens all the time in the winter, you get used to it. Part of my job now.’
    He smiles and I smile back.
    ‘So what do we have to do now?’
    ‘Wait at Gate Twenty Eight.’
    I gather my belongings once again. It would seem I’m holidaying in Frankfurt airport.
     
     
     

 
    Chapter 5
     
    Amber
     
    I peer at my phone. It’s a text from Will.
    ‘It’s my husband ,’ I say, delivering the word slowly to Mirelle.
    She places her hand over her mouth and mock yawns. ‘Boring.’
    I read the message. Will has invited Olly, Sam and Alfie for tea. Thanks for the notice. Now after work I’ve to cook dinner for everyone. Well, they’ll have to take the house as they find it. I’ve no time to tidy up.
    ‘So what’s Mr Stockley want? Other than your ovaries.’
    I raise an eyebrow. ‘Nosy much?’
    She shrugs. ‘Whatever, I was merely making conversation.’
    I feel guilty. ‘He’s invited his friend, their wife and child over for tea.’
    ‘Eww, poor you. That’s why I’m staying single. How much fun can you have with a kid around?’
    I bristle though she doesn’t notice.
    ‘How old is it?’
    ‘ He is two.’
    ‘I’m off to The Hula Bar tonight. Wouldn’t you rather come out with me?’
    I stick out my tongue.
    ‘So what about my challenge?’
    I fold my arms across my chest. ‘Your challenge is both stupid and juvenile and I won’t be taking part in it, or answering any texts. I had one drunken moment of madness and that’s it, over.’
    She bites her lip. ‘But why do you think you did it? It’s not usual behaviour for a happily married woman, is it?’
    ‘You can’t let it go, can you? What is your problem?’
    Mirelle shrugs again. ‘I guess it was nice to consider I wasn’t alone in my misbehaviour. I’m sorry, you’re right, I’ve overstepped the mark. The challenge is a stupid idea.’
    I nod, accepting her apology.
    ‘Sure could have been fun, though,’ she adds.
     
    I step through our door at ten to six. I love our house with its creamy walls and Picasso prints. My bare feet sink into plush beige carpets and the open plan of the downstairs gives a sense of space. We have two brown leather sofa’s that face each other, his and hers, plus a forty-two-inch television fixed to the wall.
    After the lounge,