Prologue: a decidedly nasty journey

Lily whistled as she packed. It was the end of school – for the Summer holidays at any rate; this year’s September would return all to quickly, and she couldn’t wait to get out of the hell hole, otherwise known as St Christoph’s school for girls. A boarding school; pathetic, really.

She wasn’t in much of a hurry; the taxi would be late anyway, and she’ be late for her plane flight too. It was quite inevitable. Most of her friends had departed already – were either picked up by their own parents or had taken the taxi. Not Lily though, she didn’t begrudge them it though; she did live around six thousand miles away after all. A long stretch of sea and a ten-hour airplane ride separated her from home.

The aim of the hour that Lily had spent packing, was to squeeze all of her belongings into one small bag; her only allowance for a cheap economy ticket on a plane which stopped in three different airports before she arrived at her destination.

She was glad that she was wearing thin, white cotton shorts and a rolling stones t-shirt because had she not, and had the windows not been thrown wide open, she would have been sweating like a pig. Quite uncomfortable really.

When she finished, Lily cast around for some shoes, finally locating a comfortable pair of extremely worn out flip-flops under her bed. She lugged her baggage down the many stairs and left it at reception before running back to her room to grab her much-loved green messenger bag with all airplane necessities inside it; cell phone for when she arrived in the US, a book to keep her occupied, laptop, passport and money. And an iPod, for when she wanted to go to sleep; a vintage one, of course (as in the old ones with four buttons lined in a row just beneath the screen), because she was completely broke after having purchased a new laptop, which wasn’t fair really, considering it was a necessity for school. Her parents had clearly said though, that she had to learn how to be independent.

Screw that, she huffed as she looked for the taxi which should have been waiting at reception but was not.

“God damnit,” she moaned, throwing her eyes skywards searching for mercy of some kind. Now she was going to miss her flight – or be even later than she was already. She flipped open her battered phone and called the taxi services.

“Zorro taxis, how can we help you?”

Zorro taxis. What a stupid name, honestly. It was quite shameful for poor zorro, having a really crap taxi service named after him.

“Hi, I’m at St Christoph’s, and I’m meant to have a taxi picking me up….ten minutes ago,” she said exasperatedly.

“Oh…let me check bookings.”

“Forget it, just send me another taxi quickly please, or I will be holding your company personally responsible for the six hundred pound flight which I’m going to be missing if said taxi doesn’t arrive within the next five minutes.”

Lily felt mean as she said it but they were starting to piss her off; and it was the truth after all.

“Yes, I’ll see what I can do,” stammered the man on the other side of the phone, who was clearly not very experienced at all.

“Thanks.”

Precisely four minutes and thirty eight seconds later, a yellow car – yes, it was yellow, there was a reason why it was such a cheap service, roared through the school gates and up to reception to meet her. The driver scrambled out of his seat to load her one bag into the trunk of the car; obviously he had been warned that she was not a happy bunny at the moment.

“Let’s go!” she cried, gesturing at the road.

“Um…where to, ma’am?”

“Lily. Ma’am is for old women,” she snapped, mimicking her mother, “to Heathrow.” If there wasn’t any traffic on the M4, the highway which was used to get to the airport, then it should only take half an hour; leaving her one hour to check in, find the gate, get some lunch and finally board. Although thinking about it more in depth, Lily realized that generally the rule was that you had to check in at least 45 minutes before the flight…so if there was traffic, she was screwed, most definitely.

The next hour was a blur; she did make it, about thirty seconds before the check in desks closed for her flight; VSO84. She didn’t get lunch after all but maybe that was a good thing, she reflected, sitting in her cramped economy seat, with a fat man next to her, feeling really sick due to the large amounts of turbulence they had been having. It was not fun.

About half way through the flight, Lily lurched, grabbed a sick bag from the seat pocket in front of her, and made a wild dash for the bathroom.

She was sick – thankfully none of it got on her clothes.

But she still smelt awful; and of course, because of the stupid security measures, they weren’t even allowed toothpaste on flights anymore. Which made the rest of her journey decidedly unpleased, even downright nasty.

And so began the summer holidays of Lily Scott: spectacularly terribly. As she leant back into her seat, still trembling slightly, glad that the plane had leveled out somewhat, she thought, perhaps rather optimistically, that at least, the next two months could only get better.

A/N: people, new story, you know the drill, I’d really appreciate some reviews; I know it’s not long, but it is only a prologue…and sorry there’s not much description yet, particularly of Lily, but I’ll get to that soon enough.

-Menace xxx to all 