Who We Were by B M Carroll

Who We Were

Who We Were by B M Carroll
English | 2020 | Mystery & Thriller | ePUB | 3.2 MB


Twenty years after they went their separate ways, friends and enemies are coming together for their school reunion. Katy, who is desperate to show that she’s no longer the shy wallflower. Annabel, who ruled the school until a spectacular fall from grace. Zach, popular and cruel, but who says he’s a changed man. And Robbie, always the victim, who never stood a chance.

As the reunion nears, a terrible event that binds the group together will resurface. Because someone is still holding a grudge, and will stop at nothing to reveal their darkest secrets…

‘Ladies and gentlemen, this is the cabin crew speaking. We have a medical emergency on board and our plane will be met on the ground by an ambulance. On landing, please stay in your seats while the paramedics attend to the patient. We apologise in advance for any inconvenience and will notify the transfers department of possible delays.’

Luke’s announcement is met with mutterings of frustration and sighs of inconvenience. Selfish bastards. A woman – fifty-something, extremely overweight – uses her bejewelled hand to beckon him over.

‘I must get off this plane. I have a flight to catch.’ Her accent is Eastern European, her tone accusing. ‘You were already late taking off. It’s your fault I have so little time to connect.’

Luke masks his irritation behind a slight, ultra-polite smile. ‘I’m afraid the announcement applies to everyone, ma’am. You all need to stay in your seats. The paramedics will stabilise the patient and we’ll do our best to have you off the aircraft as soon as possible.’

‘Where is this patient?’ She swings around in her seat. ‘Tell me, which row?’

Jesus Christ. What is she planning to do? March down there and berate the man – who appears to be in the throes of a serious allergic reaction – for causing such inconvenience? Or declare that she could merely slip past the seat in question, and be on her merry way?

‘I need to get back to my duties, ma’am. Excuse me.’

A flash of colour from the rings before her fingers bite into his arm. ‘Listen to me, you faggot. I have a right to get off this plane as soon as it lands. I have no travel insurance to cover missed flights. Do you understand me?’

It always takes him by surprise. Invariably, it’s the respectable-looking passengers, rather than the rough ones; the middle-aged women and harmless old men, as opposed to the supposedly mannerless youth.

He looks down pointedly at the fingers pressed into the white cotton of his sleeve. ‘What did you just call me?’

She is not going to fall into the trap of repeating herself, not when there are other passengers listening now. She removes her hand quickly. Pats her hair.

Let it go, he tells himself. Fatima is waving at him from the galley. They need to prepare for landing. He has bigger concerns, a procedure to go through to get this plane on the ground, a man whose life may be relying on their efficiency. She is a nothing. A bigoted, selfish, nasty nothing.

It’s that word, though. Faggot. It reminds him of his father.

Luke forces himself to walk away. After a few moments he has even resumed the slight smile – it’s almost part of his uniform, that smile – proof that he is above people like her.

‘Rubbish, anyone? Just pop it in here. Thank you.’

Back to the intercom. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position …’ He sounds as competent and calm as ever. Not at all rattled. ‘Cabin crew, please prepare for landing.’

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