forty-three
The roar of the aeroplane’s engines as it gained height overhead was all Elizabeth could hear. She pushed two crisp notes towards the taxi driver who mouthed something to her, but he may as well have been speaking another language, it was futile trying to decipher his words above the chaos of London’s main airport.
‘Sorry.’ Elizabeth shouted the apology before turning away to break into a clumsy trot towards the entrance doors.
There were people everywhere, scurrying like ants, in and out of shops, pouring up the escalators, swarming towards the check-in desk. Elizabeth dug in her bag and pulled out her ticket. Los Angeles International Airport was etched in bold black writing. A journey that would take her one way, for an indefinite amount of time, away from her family and
