Olivia
‘Come on, come on, where are
you?’ She groaned, wiping her damp hair from her even damper face.
The hotel had promised to provide an airport transfer.
She had the email confirmation in her hand, and yet here she was, waiting at Arrivals with nobody here to collect her.
What was the point in being organized if other people couldn’t do their jobs?
She scanned the printed-out piece of paper once again,
checking and rechecking all the details. It was all there, no question about it. So where was her driver?
Exasperated, Olivia took another gulp of water and pulled her sweaty T-shirt away from her skin.
A large family barged past her, their luggage trolley piled so high with suitcases that Olivia was surprised they could even see where they were going.
Two of the children stopped dead in their tracks and fixed Olivia with a look of complete and utter bewilderment.
One of them, no taller than her knees, began to giggle uncontrollably.
‘Girls, don’t stare at the lady,’ their mother barked, yanking the taller child’s hand and pulling them away.
Olivia felt her already flushed face burn more intensely; she’d never felt more exposed in her entire life.
‘Do you need a taxi, miss?’ a man standing a few metres away shouted at her.
‘No, no, I’m waiting for someone, thank you.’
‘I’ll take you. Where do you want to go?’ He stepped closer to her.
‘No, honestly, I’m fine.’ Olivia felt her voice lift a few octaves.
She needed a moment to think. To catch some air. To make a new plan.
‘Come.’ He went to grab her rucksack, a dead weight lying on the ground.
‘No!’ she shouted, snatching the bag back. ‘I said, I’m fine
. Please leave me alone.’
The young man looked startled and held his hands up in apology. ‘Sorry, miss, I was just trying to help.’ He gave a small bow and disappeared into the throng of people buzzing around the Arrivals lounge.
Olivia narrowed her eyes once more in search of anyone holding a sign that bore even the slightest resemblance to her name.
At this point, she was tempted to pretend that yes she was, in fact, Mr Bob Salsbury going to the Hilton Hotel.
Anything to get her away from this overbearing heat and noise.
Suddenly the world shifted, and everyone’s faces began to swirl and merge into one.
Olivia’s head felt light, and her hands began to tingle.
Oh God, not again.
She sat down on her backpack and placed her head between her legs. Flashes of colour danced across her field of vision and her stomach rolled with nausea. How could she have failed this badly at the first hurdle?
Olivia continued to take deep, slow breaths.
Soon the dizziness retreated, and her body began to solidify back into its skin.
Although she still felt completely and utterly hopeless, Olivia knew that she needed to focus.
There was only so long she could sit here waiting for her driver.
If they didn’t show in the next hour, she would get a taxi. In order to get a taxi, she’d need …
‘Money,’ she affirmed, standing with a newfound determination. She hoisted her bag on to her back and waddled over to the nearest cashpoint, carefully trying to avoid being knocked over by the unrelenting mass of travellers.
‘Do you need help, miss?’ an eager voice piped up from behind her. Olivia turned to find another smiling stranger staring at her expectantly. How desperate and hopeless did she look?
Do you really want to answer that?
‘No, I’m fine thanks.’ She nodded curtly, turning back to face the smeary, grease-stained cash machine screen. Thank God for the extra-large hand sanitizer she’d packed as a
last-minute addition. Noticing that her new helpful stranger hadn’t quite left her side, Olivia warily punched in her PIN and withdrew a sizeable wad of cash.
‘Do you have everything you need now? Can I get you a taxi?’ the man bleated, his hand twitching in readiness to relieve her of her backpack and carry it to his car.
Olivia paused for a second, rivers of sweat now pooling in the small of her back. Was she going to wait around for another hour in the vain hope that someone would magically appear with a big white sign saying …
‘JACKSON!’ she shouted, her eyes clocking a weary-looking man lazily waving a placard in the air. ‘THAT’S ME.’ She pushed past the over-friendly stranger and made for her driver, who was standing on the other side of the Arrivals lounge.
‘Excuse me,’ she called, forcing her way through. ‘Excuse me!’ But the man didn’t even blink; he simply continued to stand, slouched over, waving the sign at half-speed.
‘HELLO?’ she bellowed, her bag almost knocking an elderly lady to the floor as she darted between two reuniting families.
‘Hi. It’s me,’ she panted, finally standing in front of the man with the card. ‘I’m Miss Jackson.’
‘Evergreen Hotel?’ he asked half-heartedly, the sign still held aloft in front of him.
‘Yes!’
‘Come.’ He jerked his head towards the exit and began to walk off.
‘Wait, hold on,’ she called. ‘I need to get a SIM card for my phone. Could you help me?’
‘There’s no time,’ he shot back over his shoulder, picking up his pace so that Olivia had to break into a light jog just to keep up.
No time?
You’re the one that’s nearly an hour late!
‘Please,’ she begged, the momentary bliss of relief disappearing as quickly as it came. If she didn’t have a local SIM card, there was no way she was going to be able to keep in contact with people – not unless she was willing to fork out fifteen pounds a day.
‘We’ll get it later,’ he replied, beckoning her to follow him.
‘Are you sure? Is there a phone shop near the hotel?’
‘Sure. Now come. The car is just down here.’
Olivia followed her driver through the double doors and nearly collapsed as the wall of heat hit her.
If she’d thought the inside of the airport was a melting pot of chaos, it was nothing compared to the inferno waiting for her outside.
Olivia had been following the weather reports for days before she’d arrived in Delhi.
She knew full well what the temperature would be.
But this heat was different. It was thick and heavy and clung to the skin like a coat of burning leeches, sucking you dry from the inside out.
Even her eyeballs seemed to shrivel inside their sockets in response.
‘How far away did you say the car was?’ Olivia wasn’t sure she could last another thirty seconds in the heat.
‘Not far.’ Her driver gestured to some vague spot in the distance.
It turned out that their versions of the word ‘far’ differed enormously.
By the time they reached the car, Olivia didn’t even bat an eyelid at its battered and bruised exterior.
She barely registered the smashed front light and the scratched bonnet; all she cared about was clambering inside and whacking the air conditioning up to full blast.
‘Excuse me?’ Olivia asked, feeling the sweat-slicked skin
on her back sliding down the leather seats. ‘Could we have the AC on, please?’
The driver gave her a toothy grin in the rear-view mirror. ‘No AC. Just windows.’
Wherever you are, Leah, I hope you’re bloody happy with yourself.
*
By the time Olivia arrived at her hotel she wasn’t sure whether to be sick, cry or simply pass out. The journey had been one of the most traumatic of her life. There were cars and people and bikes and cows
everywhere; lining the roads, pulling out with no warning, beeping their horns so loudly that the sharp sound was still reverberating in her eardrums. Yet despite the absolute pandemonium on the roads, her driver didn’t even break a sweat.
Not when a family on a moped cut them up and nearly sent them flying into another car.
Not even when a group of begging children stuck their hands through the car window and began grabbing at Olivia’s clothes.
He simply blinked, changed gear and continued to drive.
Finally, the car pulled to a stop.
‘Here we are,’ the driver stated solemnly. ‘Do you want help with your bags?’
‘No, I think I’ll be fine, thank you,’ Olivia managed, her frayed nerves still sending waves of panic through her body.
‘OK.’ He opened the boot and waited for Olivia to drag her rucksack out.
‘Before you go,’ she said, heaving the solid weight up on to her shoulders, ‘where was that phone shop you mentioned? I still need to sort my SIM card out.’
The driver, without uttering a word, turned around and
pointed over towards the end of the dirt track. Olivia could just about make out a small wooden shack with a big 3G Vodafone sign tacked up outside.
‘That?
You cannot seriously mean that?’
‘Yes.’ He shrugged, jumping back into the car. ‘It looks closed though.’
‘Well, where can I get one from the—’ she called, but the driver had already slammed the door and started the engine. Olivia watched him drive away and felt the sticky sense of dread solidify in her stomach.
‘Thank you very much for the help!’ she bellowed to the clouds of dust the car had left in its wake.
Olivia looked up at the building in front of her. She had to admit she was a little taken aback by its shabbiness. In the travel guide, the photographs made it look a hell of a lot cleaner and newer and, in fact, quite different from the crumbling hotel presenting itself to her.
‘You can do this,’ she repeated under her breath, trying hard to reassure herself as she dragged her tired feet up the steps and into the rather deserted-looking hotel reception.
‘Hello?’ she called quietly.
Olivia dropped her bag to the floor and tried again.
‘Hello! Is anyone here?’
An elderly man jolted into life from behind the front desk. He was unshaven and clearly half-asleep, with an unlit cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
‘Hello,’ he chirped brightly, as though being caught sleeping on the job by one of your customers was nothing to be sorry for. ‘You have a reservation?’