More Than Politics {Book 1}: Editing

~11~

Bvvvv. Bvvvv.

Ama snorted in her sleep as her phone went off under her pillow.

Bvvvv. Bvvvv.

She reached for it, her sleep filled eyes squinting at the blurry screen. Someone was calling her.

"Hello?" She croaked.

"Rise and shine sleeping beauty!" Came a voice. "You only have an hour to pack and get ready!"

"Graham!" Ama yelled, realising who it was. "What do you think you're doing! It's four in the fucking morning."

"Might want to cool it on the attitude. And have you forgotten that we're supposed to be heading to Boston today?"

"No of cause I have not. But there was no need to wake me up like that. Don't you have to get ready too?" Ama grumbled, climbing out of bed walking into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

"I was ready yesterday afternoon."

"Then why don't you leave me to get ready?"

"Because we're campaign buddies and need to travel together." He said flatly.

"Sorry but I'm perfectly capable of finding my own way there."

"Well that's too bad."

"I guess it is." Ama chirped, thinking she'd won the argument. She was just about to hang up when...

HOOONK!!!

She screamed in fright. There were thuds coming from the hallway then Phoebe poked here head around the door.

"Ama! Are you ok? What was that noise? What's going on?" She paused for a breath.

That was when they noticed laughing. Ama looked down at her phone when the horn sounded again.

HOOONK!!!

Ama grabbed a pair of tinted glasses and the girls rushed down stairs into the front yard. There was nothing there.

HOOONK!!!

Finally they saw it, beyond the gates was a tall, imposing, tower of a coach.

"What do you think of the hybridised motor home? Great isn't it."

"It's towering monstrosity!" She yelled. "There is no way I'm riding in that thing."

Someone came to stand at the gates. It was Graham, just visible in the dim light. He wore a disdained look on his face, making him look like a sadist with the glum grey of his suit.