Me-Before-You-by-Jojo-Moyes

I didn’t look back. I ran all the way to the Swiss Air desk and it took me three
goes to say my name clearly enough to request my tickets.
I arrived in Zurich shortly before midnight. Given the late hour, Mrs Traynor
had, as promised, booked me into a hotel at the airport and said she would send a
car for me at nine the following morning. I had thought I wouldn’t sleep, but I
did – an odd, heavy and disjointed trawl through the hours – waking up at seven
the next morning with no idea where I was.
I stared groggily around the unfamiliar room, at the heavy burgundy drapes,
designed to block out light, at the large flat-screen television, at my overnight
bag, which I hadn’t even bothered to unpack. I checked the clock, which said it
was shortly after seven Swiss time. And as I realized where I was, I suddenly felt
my stomach clench with fear.
I scrambled out of bed just in time to be sick in the little bathroom. I sank
down on the tiled floor, my hair sticking to my forehead, my cheek pressed
against the cold porcelain. I heard my mother’s voice, her protests, and I felt a
dark fear creeping over me. I wasn’t up to this. I didn’t want to fail again. I
didn’t want to have to watch Will die. With an audible groan, I scrambled up to
be sick again.
I couldn’t eat. I managed to swallow down a cup of black coffee and showered
and dressed, and that took me to 8am. I stared at the pale-green dress I had
thrown in last night and wondered if it was appropriate for where I was going.
Would everyone wear black? Should I have worn something more vibrant and
alive, like the red dress I knew Will liked? Why had Mrs Traynor called me
here? I checked my mobile phone, wondering whether I could call Katrina. It
would be seven in the morning there now. But she would probably be dressing
Thomas, and the thought of talking to Mum was too much. I put on some makeup
and then sat down by the window, and the minutes ticked slowly past.
I don’t think I had ever felt lonelier in my life.
When I couldn’t bear being in the little room any longer, I threw the last of my
things into my bag and left. I would buy a newspaper, and wait in the lobby. It
couldn’t be worse than sitting in my room with the silence or the satellite news
channel and the suffocating darkness of the curtains. It was as I was passing