Free The Blasphemer: A Novel by Nigel Farndale Page A

below 10,000 feet. Because I am definitely not feeling euphoric .
    The flight attendant held a paper napkin to his head and made a surprisingly calm announcement over the Tannoy.’ You may notice, lady and gentlemen, we are experience some difficulty. But do not try to panic. We get through this together. This a twin turboprop. It can fly on one engine.’ He began reading from his card. ‘ “In the unlikely event of a landing on water, you find you life vest under seat. Please remove pen and other sharp object …” ’ Daniel could not concentrate. His mind had latched on to the words: We get through this together.
    Nancy felt under her seat for her life vest. Daniel did the same. When they had put them on, they looked at each other for the first time since the explosion. Nancy’s velvet-brown eyes were wide with confusion and fear, her pupils dilated. They kissed clumsily, their lips dry. ‘I love you,’ she said. Her eyes were beginning to water.
    ‘I love you,’ Daniel echoed, taking her hand, his voice sounding distant to him, disembodied. He looked at Nancy’s tear-rimmed eyes. When wet they looked like melting chocolate. He wanted to reassure her, tell her any lie that would stop her looking so frightened. ‘It’s going to be OK, Nance. It’s going to be OK. This is a seaplane. We’re supposed to land on water. We’ll be fine. We’ll be …’ He stopped. They both knew they weren’t going to be fine.
    Nancy gripped his hand. Her knuckles were white. ‘Be brave, Dan,’ she said. ‘I love you.’ Heavy tears were hanging on her lashes. She closed her eyes and repeated. ‘I love you. I love you … Martha! I’ve got to ring her.’ She felt for her mobile in her shoulder bag, turned it on and looked at its screen. ‘No signal. Come on. Come on . There.’ She pressed a speed-dial button and held the phone to her ear. ‘Come on. Come on. Please pick up. Please. Please . Hello? … It’s gone to voicemail … It’s me, darling. I love you.’ She sobbed and passed the phone to Daniel.
    ‘I love you, baby. I love you. Be a good girl. Be a brave girl. Mummy and Daddy love you.’
    They were the only words he could think to say, the only ones that could be said.
    He thought about their life insurance, the wills they had made, how they had named his parents as Martha’s guardians. Martha would be looked after. The baby would be looked after. Grampy and Grumpy would look after her. Daniel thought, too, of the second drawer of his desk, the one that was locked, the one that contained Nancy’s Rampant Rabbit, the ecstasy pills he brought home from Glastonbury but never got round to taking, their stash of grass wrapped in clingfilm. Martha would find them all one day.
    ‘We gonna be OK? We gonna be OK?’ The tall, black man was shouting this to the flight attendant. The question brought Daniel back to the horror of the present tense. The plane was listing and it made him feel disorientated, as though delivered from gravity. He looked out at the wing but there were no visual references, no horizon, just lonely, cloudless sky.
    They were floating rather than falling now. Daniel retched again. The fear had penetrated deep into his gut and was making his hands tremble uncontrollably. He stared at them as if they were not his own. From behind came the sound of Susie being sick, too. There was a jarring sensation as the plane banked right.
    This can’t be happening. Not to me. Not to someone who worries about this happening as an insurance against it happening.
    They seemed to be taking too long to hit the water, given their rate of descent. Daniel rapped at his watch – 9.08am.
    Let’s get this over with. I can’t stand this fear any more, this waiting, this living in fear of dying.
    At this moment he realized that Hall and Oates were still playing on the sound system: ‘I Can’t Go For That (No Can Do)’.
    The plane levelled out again, the wings dipping one way before correcting to the other.