A Proper Family Holiday by Chrissie Manby Read Free Book Online Page B

blue linen shirt, and he looked half-intelligent. Tired and fed-up as Chelsea was after twenty-four boring hours at Gatwick, she found herself straightening up a little in anticipation of her good-looking row-mate’s arrival. She quickly hid From Booty Call to Bride in her handbag, pulled out the new Malcolm Gladwell instead and surreptitiously checked her reflection in the screen of her phone. Maybe Chelsea and this handsome stranger would get talking.
    What Chelsea didn’t realise was that the man was not alone. His travel companion was too small to be seen over the headrests, but the Hugh-alike ushered ahead of him a blonde-haired child, about six years old. She had the sweet and gentle face of one of Cicely Mary Barker’s Flower Fairies and was dressed in a pink party dress and a pair of silver tulle wings. As she walked the length of the plane, the little girl dispensed fairy luck with her pink plastic wand. Everyone was charmed. You could hear the cooing that followed her progress. Then at last the girl stopped level with the row she and her father would be sharing with Chelsea. She looked at Chelsea. She looked up at her dad. She looked back at Chelsea and her big blue eyes narrowed alarmingly.
    ‘You told me that I would have the window seat.’
    ‘Lily,’ said the Hugh-alike, ‘that lady is already in the window seat. Go in the middle. Quickly.’
    ‘No.’ Lily stood her ground in the aisle. She folded her arms. ‘You said I could go by the window.’
    ‘That was when I thought we would have more choice,’ said Lily’s father. ‘These are the last two seats left on the whole aeroplane. Everybody is waiting to go on their holidays. Get in.’
    ‘I won’t,’ Lily insisted.
    ‘ Lily ,’ Her father tried a different tone of voice. It didn’t work. The girl pushed out her bottom lip and stood her ground.
    ‘Is there a problem?’ a steward asked.
    The passengers in the rows to the front and side strained to get a better view of the unfolding situation.
    ‘No,’ said Lily’s father, ‘there isn’t a problem.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Lily, ‘there is.’ She turned to the steward with all the confidence and entitlement of Anna Wintour discovering a civilian in her front-row seat at Chanel, then pointed back at Chelsea with her wand. ‘She’s in my seat. I was promised the window seat. I was told I would be able to see my house when we flew over it.’
    ‘Aaaah.’ The steward at least seemed to find Lily’s truculence charming. ‘You want to see your house, do you?’
    ‘I do,’ said Lily. ‘I’ve been looking forward to it all week.’
    Chelsea smiled but didn’t move. She really did not want to be on the aisle for three hours. No way. This princess Lily would doubtless want to get up and down the whole flight long and Chelsea didn’t want to have to keep getting up and down herself to let the little girl out. But Lily was not about to quit. She folded her arms and gave Chelsea a death stare. Lily’s father and the steward also looked at Chelsea now, though in a slightly more imploring way. The steward cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows. It took less than ten seconds for Chelsea to cave.
    ‘OK,’ said Chelsea. ‘I’ll swap.’
    Chelsea dragged her luggage out from beneath her seat and shuffled out into the aisle. Lily sprang past her without so much as a ‘Ta very much’ to acknowledge her sacrifice. Still, Lily’s father at least seemed grateful.
    ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Really, thank you. It’s just that … I know I shouldn’t have promised her, but …’
    ‘It’s OK. I understand,’ said Chelsea.
    ‘It’s very good of you.’ The dad smiled at Chelsea as he squeezed himself into the middle seat. The pitch between the rows was so tight, he had to fold himself like a collapsible umbrella. ‘Saved me a whole lot of earache.’
    ‘I bet.’
    ‘Are you sure you’re going to be all right in the aisle?’
    ‘Of course.’
    ‘I’ll make sure I don’t nick