Silenced Read Online Free PDF

the line.
    ‘I’ve made a really thorough check and spoken to my line manager,’ he said firmly. ‘You have no booking with our company and as far as I can see, you never did have.’
    She took a breath, ready to protest. But he pre-empted her.
    ‘I am very sorry, miss. If you would like to make another booking, we can help you with that, of course. Not for Friday, I’m afraid, but we can fly you home on Sunday. A single ticket will cost you 1, 255 dollars.’
    ‘But this is ridiculous,’ she said indignantly. ‘I don’t want another ticket, I want to fly on the one I’ve already bought. I demand that you . . .’
    ‘We’ve done everything we can, miss. The only thing I can suggest is that you check your email account to make sure it really was our airline you booked with and not someone else. There are sometimes false tickets on sale, though it’s extremely rare for that to happen. But as I say, check that and then contact us again. I’ve reserved a seat for you for Sunday. Okay?’
    ‘Okay,’ she answered in a weak voice.
    But it was not okay. Not at all.
    She felt weary as she hung up. This was the last thing she needed just now. The whole trip had been dogged by administrative hitches. But it had never occurred to her to worry about the flight home.
    She strode out of the room into the corridor.
    ‘I’m sorry to have taken so long, but there seems to be a problem with my flight home.’
    He looked concerned.
    ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’
    ‘Is there a computer with internet access I could borrow? Then I could get into my email and double-check my booking.’
    He shook his head.
    ‘Sorry, miss, I’m afraid we haven’t got one here. Our internet connection was so bad that we decided we’d be better off popping to the internet café round the corner when we needed to go online.’
    She took her leave, thanking him for his help and all the important information he had been brave enough to entrust her with, and went to the café he recommended.
    There was a spring in her long-legged step as she entered the café and asked to use a computer for fifteen minutes. The proprietor showed her to computer number three and asked if she wanted coffee. She declined the offer, hoping she would be on her way back to the hotel very shortly.
    The fan inside the computer whirred as the processor tried to upload her inbox onto the screen. She drummed her fingers impatiently on the table, sending up a silent prayer for the system not to crash so she had to start all over again. She knew from experience that the internet abroad was not what it was in Sweden.
    The café’s air conditioning was as noisy as a small tank rumbling along, reminding her of the region she had visited before her trip to Thailand. Her hand went automatically to the chain she wore round her neck, under her blouse. Her fingers closed round the USB memory stick that hung on it, resting against her chest. There, encased in that one little bit of plastic, were all the facts she had collected. She would soon be home and all the pieces of the puzzle would fall into place.
    ‘Sure you’ll be all right?’ her father had asked with an anxious note in his voice, the evening before she left.
    ‘Course I will.’
    He stroked her cheek, and they said no more about it. They both knew she was more than able to look after herself, and anyway, the trip had been her own idea, but the question still needed asking.
    ‘Just ring if you need any help,’ her father said as they parted at Stockholm’s main airport.
    But she had only rung once and the rest of their communication had been by email. She had deleted the emails as she went along without really knowing why.
    The computer had finally accessed the site and something came up on the screen.
    ‘You have entered the wrong password. Please try again.’
    She shook her head. This was clearly not going to be a good day. She tried again. The computer growled as it laboured away. And again:
    ‘You