Mum's the Word by Dorothy Cannell Read Free Book Online

flight attendant with the hundred-watt smile.
    Some things science can’t explain. Ben emerged from his claustrophobia when his little white tray was placed in front of him. Artificially flavoured meat? Reconstituted lettuce? Thinking up rude names to call his meal promised to keep him occupied—if not for the rest of the trip, at least while I went to the loo.
    I staggered down the aisle toward the lavatory. A woman waiting ahead of me suggested that a priest might be hearing confessions. She’d been waiting, she informed me sourly, for ten minutes to get inside.
    Out came a brazen hussy, Gucci makeup bag tucked under her arm, hands clutching a hardcover book, a corner of which almost got me in the eye. But the person who can hold fifty-some people hostage while she lolls in the loo is unlikely to be the sensitive type.
    â€œSo sorry,” she fibbed through lips as violently red as the blood enlivening the glossy black jacket of
Monster Mommy
. “I’m afraid I was swept away by one riveting scene after another and completely lost track of time.” Snap-snap of her fingers at the steward. “Drinks for everyone aboard. No, nothing for me. I have an extremely taxing cocktail party to attend immediately after we land and I’ll be as déclassé as dry roasted peanuts if I can’t quote chapter and page.
People
magazine said, ‘This book will find its way onto every coffee table in America, even the vinyl coatedones. It will burn its way into your heart, brand the letter M on your soul.’ ” Snap-snap of her fingers at a man who looked as though he hadn’t taken his daily Milk of Magnesia, her husband seemingly because he swept her away by her ear. To add insult to injury for us cross-legged sufferers, a stewardess was sleepwalking her way down the gangway reading what looked like the same book. What were the airways coming to?
    When I finally did enter the standing-room-only convenience, my usual panic set in. We’d be landing before I figured out how to engage the lock in accordance with instructions in three languages—none of them English. Instant darkness when I pushed a button. Afraid to touch anything else, lest it hurtle us into a forced landing, I kept a restraining elbow on the door and succeeded in dropping my bag. Down on my knees, retrieving the bits and bobs, my panic elbowed off in new directions. Had I left home responsibly? The last few days had tumbled over one another. Had I stocked up on enough Ovaltine for Jonas? Had I reminded Dorcas enough times to give Tobias his vitamins? What if all my relations
did
materialize on the doorstep, empty suitcases in hand, ready for a raid? Dorcas is cursed with a kind heart. So too, is Mr. Jonas Scrooge, however hard he fights the demon. Yes, I had taken the precaution of hiding the few pieces of jewelry left to me by my mother under the loose floorboard in my bedroom, but Aunt Lulu has the nose of a search-and-seize police dog.
    Squeezing back into my seat, I whispered in Ben’s ear (so as not to alarm the oriental gentleman), “I’ve ordered our flight captain to turn back.”
    He gave me a seasoned traveller’s smile. “Ellie, you must rid yourself of the idea that we’ve abandoned Dorcas and Jonas to a fate worse than death. I don’t believe in Chantal’s psychic powers.”
    â€œThe Tramwells think the world of her.”
    â€œThey’d think the same if she were a vampire. So long as she served a decent cup of tea.”
    â€œDarling, you’re so right!” Suddenly I wasn’t merely happy, I was bursting with the conviction that together Ben and I were invincible. No matter that I wasn’t the woman of my mother-in-law’s dreams, I was a consort fit for a Mangé!Who better to know the fat content of an orange? Shifting in my confined seat, I wrapped my arms around my husband’s neck and kissed that marvelous, seductive mouth of his. I