The Duchess in the Dorm [Published - Sample Only]

Chapter 9 - Off the Grid (part 2)

Lizzie ran her rail-card through the reader and walked up the steps to the main platform. She checked the screen and saw that her train was seven minutes out. It would be a 90 minute trip to London's Victoria station and then she would take the express to Gatwick airport. Her flight to New York City's JFK airport was scheduled for 10:50 AM. Arriving on Christmas Eve was problematic but her research had indicated that in the city that never sleeps she would be able to take care of the few required errands for the next phase of her journey. The nearly empty train arrived right on time and Lizzie boarded a middle car. She picked a seat away from the door, put her duffel under the seat, and leaned against her backpack. The slow-rolling motion of the train and the sound of the wheels on the smoothly welded rails combined with her lack of sleep soon put her completely out. 45 minutes later, she awoke with a start as the doors of the car opened. For a moment she thought that she had missed her stop but smiled when she looked through the window and saw that she had quite a ways to go. Under her breath Lizzie cursed. "Bollix, I was more tired than I thought."

Lizzie managed to stay awake until the train pulled into Victoria station for her transfer to the express line which would take her to nonstop to the international airport. After exiting the train, she had to go down two flights of stairs, through a tunnel and up on the other side of one of the far platforms. She had put both straps of the large duffel over her shoulders and carried the backpack by its handle. The total weight of her luggage was a bit more than she had wanted, but she was confident that she could haul it through a train station or two and the four large international airports she would be using to go off the grid. As much as she wanted a strong cup of coffee, Lizzie decided that she would wait until she was checked-in and comfortably early for boarding in the international departures hall. The express train was right on time. She once again took a middle car and sat by herself. As the sun was rising through the rain and fog she admired the view of the green English countryside. During the 30 minute ride from London to the airport, Lizzie caught herself going over the events of the last few days and simultaneously wool-gathering over the days to come. As the train pulled into the south terminal of Gatwick airport, she tried her best to put the past behind her. She gathered her luggage once again and made her way to the check-in line. It was early on December 24th, the Christmas Eve celebration was well underway in most of the Western world. The lines were not too bad for once. Gatwick was always busy, but in her experience not to the level of Heathrow; even on a holiday. It was 9:12 in the morning when she got in the long queue for security and passport control. She had just over two hours until her flight departed, so all was in accordance with her plan.

Hidden in a small pocket in the inner lining of her jacket was a diplomatic passport as issued to members of the royal family; she hoped not to need it. In the document case around her neck was a standard-issue maroon-colored British passport with a one-week tourist visa to the USA and a two-year student visa to Australia. All of these documents were completely above board, it was just the name Elizabeth Wilson that was a bit of a deception.