26
Jane looked out over the harbour from the room in the Radisson Waterfront, Cape Town, and wished she could fly.
Why couldn’t she be like normal people, who hopped cheap charter flights to Spain or Italy for a weekend or to Australia or the Far East for their annual holidays? Why, whenever she even contemplated the notion of confronting her fear, did she know for certain that she would be counting the minutes and seconds to her inevitable death as the airliner plummeted towards the ground or sea?
She was booked on another ship home and the irony was she had almost lost her life on the high seas when she’d been on George’s freighter.
The time and cost of the impending voyage weighed heavily on her mind, too. Now she was out of a job, the price of a last-minute berth on the cruise ship
