The Boudicca Parchments

Chapter 11

“Do you have any aisle seats left?”

“We have one, but it’s right at the back.”

“That’ll do.”

The girl at the checkin pecked away at the keyboard, printed out the luggage tag, fixed it to the suitcase and then gave the man back his passport along with his boarding pass.

“That’s 6 °C, boarding at Gate 37 starts at 21:50.”

And with that he picked up his carry-on bag and the documents and walked off.

He didn’t know why, but he was always nervous when he went through security at Heathrow Airport. It was there for his own protection, but he always felt like a criminal when he went through it. Then again, when he thought about it more carefully, he was a criminal and so it was only natural that he should feel self-conscious in the face of all that scrutiny.

He wondered how thoroughly they would check his hand luggage. He didn’t want to let the parchment out of his sight. But in some ways taking it in his hand luggage was more risky, as hand luggage is subjected to even greater security checks. Still, he was sure that neither the parchment, nor the hard cardboard tube he had put in, would show up as anything suspicious in the x-ray.

Nevertheless, he smiled with relief when he got through to the other side without anyone saying anything. He put on his belt and shoes and put his wallet and mobile phone back in his pocket. He realized that he had plenty of time for duty-free shopping. But he knew he wouldn’t do any. Duty free was a rip-off. You could get cheaper goods at any discount store.

He decided to phone HaTzadik.

“Hi, it’s Sam Morgan.”

“And?”

“I just want you to know… I’m at the airport.”

“Lod?”

“Heathrow.”

“Why are you calling?”

Shalom Tikva sounded impatient.

“I just wanted to let you know.”

“Call me when you land.”

The line went silent.