Ride The Mountain by Patrick Gooch

Author:Patrick Gooch [Gooch, Patrick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

He was punctual almost to the minute.

The ambulance drew up, the rear doors opened, and I was helped into its interior.

Three-quarters of an hour later we drew up outside the terminal building. I was pushed down the vehicle ramp in a wheelchair by my accompanying nurse as a female attendant hurried to greet us.

The VIP Lounge is separate from the regular passenger section, and the attendant steered me through its tall glass doors to a reception desk. I was aware of the sympathetic glances of another attendant while she registered the flight details. My damaged shoulder had been lightly plastered to appear a broken collar bone; and a tight dressing applied to my chest held me stiffly upright; but the most uncomfortable part of the whole procedure was the splint behind my left knee, which allowed for only limited movement of the joint.

What I did find disconcerting was what had been done to my face. In the ambulance a woman had used cosmetics skilfully to suggest severe cuts and bruises. After which she had given me spectacles to wear. I had not been allowed to look in a mirror; but when I was wheeled into the seating area, I received numerous glances from other passengers.

Eventually, the flight was called, and the nurse, accompanied by yet another attendant, pushed through the departure lounge down the jetway to the plane door. I was helped from the wheelchair and supported to my first-row seat. My female nurse sat in the aisle seat, and frequently asked if I were OK, could she provide anything.

And so nearly three hours passed in a series of uncomfortable positions. Turning my body this way and that without finding any respite from the painful dressings attached to me.

Eventually, the plane landed in Moscow; and while we sat there, passengers started making their way forward towards the exit.

“I thought it was you, Alexei,” said a tall, full-figured individual in his fifties. Ignoring the nurse he leaned over her head. “Well, well, you`ve come unstuck this time with your free-riding on the slopes. You`ll be out of the picture for a while, I shouldn`t wonder. I`ll wager your boss will have something to say about that.”

The fellow, laughing at his remark, was preparing to continue his taunts, until urged to move off the plane by those behind him. I had only understood snatches of what he said, but it was enough to realise he was delighting in Alexei`s supposed misfortune. A good thing he had not peered too closely and seen through my disguise.

When the plane had finally emptied, our carry-on bags were retrieved from the overhead locker and my wheelchair from the baggage hold. The nurse pushed me through the terminal to a waiting minibus. I was helped into a seat, and the chair stowed in the rear.

We were driven round to the Novotel, chosen principally for the continuous stream of people arriving and departing at all hours; thus, their constant demand for attention at both the reception and the concierge`s desks meant we received only the briefest of attention.

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