Cometh the Hour (The Clifton Chronicles 6)

Ghuman paced around the room as he waited to be put through. He snatched at the phone the moment it rang.

“It’s Patel, in accounts, sir. You asked me to—”

“Not now,” said Ghuman. He slammed the phone down and was just about to ask his secretary what was taking so long when it rang again.

“Who is this?” he demanded as he picked the phone up.

“My name is Tariq Shah, Mr. Ghuman. I am Air India’s senior controller at Santacruz airport. How may—”

“I have reason to believe that a Mr. Sebastian Clifton and my daughter, Priya, are booked on your 12:50 flight to London. Check your manifest immediately and let me know if they’ve already boarded the plane.”

“Can I call you back?”

“No, I’ll hold on.”

“I’ll need a couple of minutes, sir.”

Two minutes turned into three, and as Ghuman could no longer pace around his office while he held onto the phone, he grabbed the letter-opener on his desk and began stabbing his blotting pad in frustration. Finally a voice said, “Neither Mr. Clifton nor your daughter are on that flight, Mr. Ghuman, and the boarding desk has already closed. Do you want me to check the 18:50 flight?”

“No, they won’t be on that one,” Ghuman said before adding, “What a clever young man you are, Mr. Clifton.”

“I beg your pardon?” said Shah.

“Listen carefully, Shah. I want you to check every other flight that’s leaving India for London tonight, whatever the airport, and then ring me straight back.”

* * *

Seb and Priya pulled up outside the domestic terminal just before one o’clock, to find Vijay standing on the pavement looking out for them.

“Take the bike back to the garage, Vijay, then go home and stay put for the rest of the day. Don’t report back to work until tomorrow morning. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” said Vijay.

Seb handed him the keys to the bike and another five hundred rupees.

“But you have already given me more than enough money, sir.”

“Nowhere near enough,” said Seb. He took Priya by the hand and led her quickly into the terminal and straight to Gate 14B, where some passengers were already boarding. He was glad he’d carried out two dress rehearsals, but it didn’t stop him continually looking over his shoulder to check if anyone was following them. With a bit of luck, Ghuman’s thugs would be heading for the international terminal.

They joined the queue of passengers boarding the flight to New Delhi, but Seb didn’t feel safe even when the stewardess asked everyone to fasten their seatbelts. Not until the wheels had left the ground did he breathe a sigh of relief.

“But we won’t be safe even when we’re back in London,” said Priya, who was still shaking. “My father won’t give up while he thinks there’s the slightest chance of getting me to change my mind.”

“That will be pretty difficult, if we’re already married.”

“But we both know that won’t be possible for some time.”

“Have you ever heard of Gretna Green?” said Seb, not letting go of her hand. “It’s like Vegas without the gambling, so by this time tomorrow, you will be Mrs. Clifton. Which is why we’re taking a plane to Glasgow this evening, and not London.”

“But even if we do that, my father will only take some other kind of revenge.”

“I don’t think so. Because when he returns to London he’s going to have a visit from Mr. Varun Sharma, the Indian High Commissioner, as well as a chief inspector from Scotland Yard.”

“How did you manage that?”

“I didn’t. But when you see my uncle Giles again, you can thank him.”

* * *