sweeps through me. People are praying. This is real.

We're going to die.

We're going to die.

'I'm sorry?' The American man in the next seat looks at me, his face tense and white.

Did I just say that aloud?

'We're going to die.' I stare into his face. This could be the last person I ever see alive. I take

in the lines etched around his dark eyes; his strong jaw, shaded with stubble.

The plane suddenly drops down again, and I give an involuntary shriek.

'I don't think we're going to die,' he says. But he's gripping his seat-arms, too. 'They said it

was just turbulence-'

'Of course they did!' I can hear the hysteria in my voice. 'They wouldn't exactly say, 'OK

folks, that's it, you're all goners'!' The plane gives another terrifying swoop and I find myself

clutching the man's hand in panic. 'We're not going to make it. I know we're not. This is it. I'm

twenty-five years old, for God's sake. I'm not ready. I haven't achieved anything. I've never

had children, I've never saved a life…' My eyes fall randomly on the '30 Things To Do

Before You're 30' article. 'I haven't ever climbed a mountain, I haven't got a tattoo, I don't

even know if I've got a G spot…'

'I'm sorry?' says the man, sounding taken aback, but I barely hear him.

'My career's a complete joke. I'm not a top businesswoman at all.' I gesture half-tearfully to

my suit. 'I haven't got a team! I'm just a crappy assistant and I just had my first ever big

meeting and it was a complete disaster. Half the time I haven't got a clue what people are

talking about, I don't know what logistical means, I'm never going to get promoted, and I owe

my dad four thousand quid, and I've never really been in love…'

I draw myself up short with a jolt. 'I'm sorry,' I say, and exhale sharply. 'You don't want to

hear all this.'

'That's quite all right,' says the man.

God. I'm completely losing it.

And anyway, what I just said wasn't true. Because I am in love with Connor. It must be the

altitude or something, confusing my mind.

Flustered, I push the hair off my face and try to get a hold of myself. OK, let's try counting

again. Three hundred and fifty… six. Three hundred and-

Oh God. Oh God. No. Please. The plane's lurching again. We're plummeting.

'I've never done anything to make my parents proud of me.' The words come spilling out of

my mouth before I can stop them. 'Never.'

'I'm sure that's not true,' says the man nicely.

'It's true. Maybe they used to be proud of me. But then my cousin Kerry came to live with us

and all at once it was like my parents couldn't see me any more. All they could see was her.

She was fourteen when she arrived, and I was ten, and I thought it was going to be great, you

know. Like having an older sister. But it didn't work out like that…'

I can't stop talking. I just can't stop.

Every time the plane bumps or jolts, another torrent of words pours randomly out of my

mouth, like water gushing over a waterfall.

It's either talk or scream.

'… she was a swimming champion, and an everything champion, and I was just… nothing in

comparison…'

'… photography course and I honestly thought it was going to change my life…'

'… eight stone three. But I was planning to go on a diet…'

'I applied for every single job in the world. I was so desperate, I even applied to…'

'… awful girl called Artemis. This new desk arrived the other day, and she just took it, even

though I've got this really grotty little desk…'

'… sometimes I water her stupid spider plant with orange juice, just to serve her right…'

'… sweet girl Katie, who works in Personnel. We have this secret code where she comes in

and says, 'Can I go through some numbers with you, Emma?' and it really means 'Shall we

nip out to Starbucks…''

'… awful presents, and I have to pretend I like them…'

'… coffee at work is the most disgusting stuff you've ever drunk, absolute poison…'

'… put 'Maths GCSE grade A' on my CV, when I really only got C. I know it was dishonest.

I know I shouldn't have done it, but I so wanted to get the job…'

What's happened to me? Normally there's a kind of filter which stops me blurting out

everything I'm thinking; which keeps me in check.

But the filter's stopped working. Everything's piling out in a big, random stream, and I can't

stop it.

'Sometimes I think I believe in God, because how else did we all get here? But then I think,

yes but what about war and stuff…'

'… wear G-strings because they don't give you VPL. But they're so uncomfortable…'

'… size eight, and I didn't know what to do, so I just said 'Wow those are absolutely fantastic

…''

'… roasted peppers, my complete favourite food…'

'… joined a book group, but I just couldn't get through Great Expectations. So I just skimmed

the back and pretended I'd read it…'

'… I gave him all his goldfish food, I honestly don't know what happened…'

'… just have to hear that Carpenters song 'Close to You' and I start crying…'

'… really wish I had bigger boobs. I mean, not Page 3 size, not completely enormous and

stupid, but you know, bigger. Just to know what it's like…'

'… perfect date would start off with champagne just appearing at the table, as if by magic…'

'… I just cracked, I secretly bought this huge tub of Haagen-Dazs and scoffed the lot, and I

never told Lissy…'

I'm unaware of anything around us. The world has narrowed to me and this stranger, and my

mouth, spewing out all my innermost thoughts and secrets.

I barely know what I'm saying any more. All I know is, it feels good.

Is this what therapy is like?

'… name was Danny Nussbaum. Mum and Dad were downstairs watching Ben Hur, and I

remember thinking, if this is what the world gets so excited about, then the world's mad…'

'… lie on my side, because that way your cleavage looks bigger…'

'… works in market research. I remember thinking the very first time I saw him, wow, he's

good-looking, He's very tall and blond, because he's half-Swedish, and he has these amazing

blue eyes. So he asked me out…'

'… always have a glass of sweet sherry before a date, just to calm my nerves…'

'He's wonderful. Connor's completely wonderful. I'm just so lucky. Everyone's always telling

me how great he is. He's sweet, and he's good, and he's successful and everyone calls us the

perfect couple…'

'… I'd never tell anyone this in a million years. But sometimes I think he's almost too goodlooking.

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